A church entrance Part 2: This Place is Forgotten

 

Childhood memories

We are told that Saunière as a young man led his playmates into the countryside around his hometown of Montazels and further afield, like Rennes-le-Château. If true, it means that Saunière knew the area of Rennes-le-Château very well. Even if he did not acquire this knowledge from an early age, his long walks in the countryside once he was priest of the village would have made sure he became. He wasn’t alone: his colleague of Rennes-les-Bains, Henri Boudet, also knew his surroundings well, for he worked this knowledge into his book, “La Vraie Langue Celtique”, claiming there was a cromlech around his town.
Though Boudet’s cromlech were somewhat less than standard, even his cromlech was made of giant stone formations, so it shouldn’t be illogical to conclude that he was very familiar with all rock formations around his town – seeing that those rock formations were what he would label “the cromlech”.

Indeed, Boudet wrote about the history of Rennes-les-Bains, but it was Saunière who was a child of the region and will have known the stories, legends… and lies that went around the villages, and between the various villages. The educated man that he was, over time, he must have come to realise that some of these legends were merely adaptations of legends from elsewhere. By speaking to Boudet, he will have learned that some of these legends predated Christianity and were adapted to fit into the new religion. That certain Christian sites (churches, oratories, etc.) were, before the advent of Christianity, often pagan sacred sites. They were “reused”, often not merely the location, but in some cases, no doubt even the building material of those temples – especially if they were Greek and/or Roman temples that were Christianised.
To this, we need to add that it is known that the plateau of Rennes-le-Château – as well as the surrounding area – was occupied since thousands of years and, if some sources are to be believed, was even the site of an important Visigothic settlement. This means that there was plenty for a young boy – and the later amateur archaeologist that he became (even lecturing on the subject) – to explore, and it must also have meant that several sites held some importance in the memories of the locals. Though many of these sites must have still stuck out above the ground, it is clear that some parts would have been subterranean, and these were of course even more appealing to the young boy that he had been.

An old path

Discoveries are often done just off the beaten track. And in this case, the beaten track is at the back of Rennes-les-Bains, where the road climbs towards the big mast that sits on the left-hand side of the River Salz, near the fork in the road that winds its way slowly to Rennes-le-Château. Alongside this road – which is largely only so well maintained so that vehicles have access to the mast – is an area where shrubs and trees have not totally taken control of their surroundings, and it is clear why not: the ground is covered by exposed rocks. The site isn’t big by any means; perhaps three by four metres wide. Big enough to stand out – if one is looking. It has the feel of a small – note: small – amphitheatre, or the remains of an old settlement, of the type of “Clansaye”.
The area is clearly worked – rocks have been cut out in what appear to be rectangular slabs. The style of working this rock is what one might call “traditional”: the rock surface is largely horizontal, and the slabs were removed just like the obelisks of Aswan were dug out, or the quarries of Malta… and so many other places where rock was removed from its native bed. In short, here we are confronted with a quarry – a small quarry. So small, one wonders why it was ever used.

An ancient quarry

Whenever we touch the mystery of Rennes-le-Château, we refuse to initially reveal the location, for we know that dozens of other “researchers” will totally destroy the site within a matter of weeks. Of course, any bona fide researcher, or official party, will be taken to the site, if they so desire.
We will note that the site is quite close to the “Devil’s Armchair” and the other megalithic remains that sit on this side above the town of Rennes-les-Bains. The quarry seems to have the same type of rock as the other monuments, and one could argue that for a pagan cult, where the type of rock itself was important, it would have been incorporated into the religious significance of the site. We note that in pagan times, stone was often removed from the holy mountains, so that the “essence of the deities” was actually present in the daily utensils the people used.

Today, the lowest section of the quarry is filled with water; it is not deep, but the constant presence of water does mean that its exploration is impossible – or at least extremely cumbersome. It is not a spring; it is merely the fact that the quarrying has left a type of “rock pool”, out of which water can only disappear through evaporation, and even in summer – as attested in 2008 – there was plenty of water there.
Around the central part of the quarry itself are a number of “steps” – gradients – that were obviously important for the working of the quarry itself. Indeed, because of this, and the pool, it is hard to imagine that we are in a quarry; one would suspect it is part of something else, something less “work intensive” than a quarry; a temple, or the remains of another construction. Hence also why we drew the comparison to Clansaye, near the Valley of the Nymphs, where the archaeologists tell us that the buildings date back to Celtic times. Alas, this is not the discovery of a temple, but it is nevertheless the discovery of a forgotten site – once worked by our ancestors, as a quarry. And thus the all-important question is: where were its stones used?

A solid hypothesis?

A detailed observation – carried out over a number of visits – has allowed us to create a working hypothesis. Even though it is an appealing theory, at present, there is little to no evidence to suggest that this is an ancient temple. If it was, and given its proximity to a road, as well as other sites of interest, someone would have mentioned it… not necessarily in recent times, but definitely in the last century – for example, by the likes of Boudet himself? Furthermore, if this was a cult place, it is clear that only a very small congregation could gather here. Evidence speaking against its great antiquity can also be derived from the state of the stone and the marks on it. Hence, we need to conclude that this is not an ancient temple.

All the evidence on site suggests that this is a quarry, and we extracted a piece of stone from the quarry, to see where this might possibly have been used. But first, we gave this piece to a stone mason, who told us the sandstone was easily workable, but was also quite brittle and hence wouldn’t last long. In short, for any inscriptions or other purposes, the stone was not ideal. He himself would not have proposed this material for any such purposes.

To exploit this sandstone quarry, the workmen would have had to clear the top part of this rock surface, which would have been deemed unsuitable – as it would have been too exposed to the elements and hence would already have degenerated beyond any practical use. Once this “bad stone” had been removed, stone blocks would literally be carved out of the stone. The size of the slab was done by drilling down, evidence of which can still be seen. A horizontal “cut” was then made, quite similar to how meat is cut… equally making sure the cutting did not go against the “grain” of the rock.

Watershed events

The conclusion that the site was a quarry is thus easily drawn and solid… as a rock. The traces of the excavation work also reveal that it was done by professionals, as well as continuous, in the sense that this wasn’t an “attempt” to quarry this rock, but that a certain amount of rock was quarried, and that the rock quarried was obviously used elsewhere as part of a specific project.
Despite the professional approach, let us note that the professional verdict on the matter is that the type of sandstone is not the best in quality, and hence, one can wonder why someone went through the effort of setting up a quarry here. It is furthermore a small quarry, which begs the question why someone would specifically want inferior stone from a rather inaccessible location, rather than just order top quality stone from somewhere else. The end conclusion of this quarry has to be “little quality, high cost”.
Furthermore, to work this small quarry, there is a need to have water – of course, today, there is a small pool at the bottom section of the quarry. Though one cannot inspect it fully, it would seem that the “pool” itself is a location where stone was quarried, and once quarried, it might have been filled with water, the water to be used for the extraction of the other stone slabs.

There’s more

It wouldn’t be Rennes-le-Château (or thereabouts) if there weren’t a number of oddities. In this case, it is the fact that the quarry is small, and would take a lot of effort to set up, for no real apparent purpose, for the quarry could not be used for twenty or so slabs – with less than ten truly removed. What could possibly be so special about these stones that warranted their extraction? Stone-wise, we know their quality is inferior – so whoever wanted this, did so for different reasons.

The usual leftovers of such industrial activity also seem to have been scattered widely around, or removed altogether, for the site itself is clean. Indeed, one might argue that many decades have passed between the site’s exploitation and today, but you merely have to look at quarries from the 4th or 5th century elsewhere in France, to see how “dirty” some of them still are. And this does add to the enigma: an altogether unimportant site, from which seven, eight or nine blocks of stone are removed, whereby, once removed, the site is then carefully left behind… as if to pretend that no-one was ever there?
Whether one needs eight stones, or one plans an entire operation, it is clear that the stones needed to be transported, and as they were rocks, they were heavy, and the access roads therefore had to be in good condition. Even though there is a road relatively nearby – a few hundred metres from the site itself – in its immediate surroundings, there is no clear sign of a road, or other means of good access. So, how did these blocks, each weighing ca. 280 kg, get transported? It is clearly a Herculean effort!
In short, we are confronted here with an anomaly: a professional stonecutter has removed sub-standard stones from this quarry, which has to mean that someone wanted these stone specifically, and the mason was almost “forced” to work here. Someone went through a lot of effort.

A priest… of course

It was during a rather everyday visit to the church of Rennes-le-Château that an idea came to mind which at first seemed farfetched. The entrance porch, of the church, was entirely redone by Saunière. Despite the work being carried out under his command, let us repeat that in the available documentation about his “Great Works”, there are no apparent traces of who was working on the porch, and when, and for how much. Of course, this omission is another blow for those who claim that Saunière’s accounts show “everything”, down to the last centime.
As mentioned in the first part, the porch itself is made from sandstone, and a type that has not withstood the test of time. Dare one call it substandard? And if so, why did Saunière, who was never tight with money, go for substandard stone?
We therefore decided to bring the stone we had removed from the quarry to Rennes-le-Château and compare the two, to see whether there were certain correspondences. There were, though of course, to test this hypothesis to the fullest, one should go much beyond a simple visual inspection. Such detailed work, we leave to others, with the proper experience in that field.

Within our working hypothesis, one can go further. For example: there are no traces of this work in the account books, and there is no real reason why the porch shouldn’t feature in there. Except if the stones for the porch were not part of the “normal work” Saunière had ordered, but were a “special order”?
Furthermore, if one begins to count the amount of stone slabs that have gone into the porch, one arrives at ca. nine stone slabs, rectangular in shape, as well as two semi-circles, that form the arch above them. It is, of course, roughly the amount of stones that have been quarried from our small quarry near Rennes-les-Bains. Coincidence?

A forgotten element

It was during one of our return visits to the site that we found, a short distance from the quarry itself, another site that had escaped our attention on previous occasions. This was a rectangular cavity cut inside another exposed rock, like a tomb – but without its slab. Searching for similar structures nearby, we found two more, both of which were buried under the vegetation and which were largely filled in with sand. Though it is possible that these three sites are quarries too, they definitely do not show the tell-tale signs of being a quarry. In fact, it is possible that these were tombstones from the Carolingian era. Of course, this is speculation, as no excavations have been carried out – we are merely giving our impression of the site as we’ve come across it.
But whereas we stumbled upon these other three locations by accident, it is clear that whoever used the quarry nearby, if only because of the amount of time spent on site, would have known about their existence, and would at the very least have taken an interest in them, if only on a professional level, for what our labourer was doing in the quarry, someone else had been doing there to create these “tomb cavities” – to give them a name they might in the end deserve, or not.
If – if – that were to be the case, than it seems we are in the presence of a small cemetery – a necropolis – an ancient necropolis. And if that were to be the case – and it is a hypothesis, nothing more – it could explain why someone wanted to have stones from this site, and no other – despite the poor quality of the material.

Saunière, or not?

Let us continue the hypothesis. We know that both Boudet and Saunière were interested in the past. We know Saunière had a rather strange fascination with the dead. We know both men were intimately aware of their surroundings and both should be considered as knowing about this site. The – theoretical – question is therefore whether the site is an ancient cemetery, and whether it was recognised as such by our two priests – or at least one of them.
Let us continue to build our hypothesis, which is untested, but to some extent not farfetched: what if Saunière got the stones for his porch from here? We know that Saunière saw the porch – as any other priest would – as a gateway between two worlds, the mundane and the sacred. We know that the church of Rennes had a necropolis – has a necropolis? – and that it was one of the preoccupations of Saunière. We know the priest had an ingenious mind and played with symbolism. So is it possible he took the stones from an ancient necropolis near Rennes-les-Bains and worked them into his church? Why not. The fact of the matter is that here is a quarry and there is a porch with an unknown origin for its stone slabs. Occam’s razor?

Of course, another scenario is possible. We know our priest was a bit of a “devil”: that he coupled the required with the practical, using smoke and mirrors to try and misdirect whoever needed to be misdirected.
Well, in this case, could it be that here, somewhere on this site, was “something” of interest to Saunière – perhaps, if they were tombs nearby, something inside of them. That the proximity of the quarry to these “tomb cavities” was an excuse so he could be there, and would have tools to “do things” to the tombs, having a ready-made excuse as to why he was there and what he was doing there: quarrying slabs for his church’s porch. It might also explain the “cleanliness” of the site after all the work was carried out. It might also explain why there is no trace in the accounts of the workmen that worked on the porch: were they somehow not meant to be included, as they were paid through different means – in secret? Did he not want to leave a trace, so that people could not contact the man – or men? Did he hire someone from abroad or far away, have him/them work on the quarry, resulting in stone slabs, which were then worked into the porch? If the work in the quarry was supposed to be the cover for something else, then it would explain why these labourers do not feature in the accounts.

At present, there is, indeed, little evidence for this, but the hypothesis does answer some of the anomalies and remains logical. It is indeed but a hypothesis and only the beginning of one. But it is a fact that there is a quarry.

André Douzet
We would like to thank Dominique and Patrice, for literally having shown us the way.