A village, life and death

Rennes-le-Château has a difficult task: it is both the site of the enigma of Saunière, its enigmatic priest, as well as a living village, and thus accommodating a community, like thousands of others in France. The often awkward combination means that the locals are able to live of tourism, but are also confronted with treasure seekers, which has on more than one occasion greatly disrupted the everyday existence of this village – including cutting of their water supply! Still, despite these problems, life in the village is dictated by the rhythm of the inhabitants. People move in, move out, get married, die, get buried, etc. All of these events are noted down in the appropriate registers, and often, the mists of time evaporate one’s existence. Let us, however, for this exercise concentrate on the final moment of everyone’s life: death, and how this event is present in this particular village.

Old habits die hard

The world of the dead is, practically everywhere in the world and definitely in Europe, set apart from the rest of the village or town. The cemetery is normally a walled-off enclosure, with normally just one access. Inside is the world of the dead, and the entrance is there for coffins to be carried in, or family members to enter the world of their ancestors and commemorate their memories. It is a place of peace and respect.
Though fenced off from the rest of the village, it was, in previous times, not the case. Originally, the tombs were quite often found at the centre of the village: cemeteries were not on the outskirts of town, far removed from daily life: they were normally in the very centre, near – around – the church, which in those days was more often visited than in modern times too. The installation of a wall surrounding a ceremony is also a relatively recent change.

The rich and the common folk

Though it’s said that you can’t take it – money – with you, the rich were able to afford a much more grand burial than the poor. Both service and memorial betrayed the individual’s wealth. Furthermore, the rich often requested that services were said for the memory of the deceased – which often were or were accompanied by other services in which people prayed for the soul of the deceased. Such services were often outside the reach of the common people. Also, the rich and the poor were often separated physically too. The cemetery was normally the domain of the common folk – the rich could afford to reside in or under the church, sometimes even inside a church solely for the use of the family – and a crypt solely for their use too. One church and one crypt could thus see an accumulation of ancestral bodies, spanning sometimes centuries.
Though the cemetery was part of the community life, the crypt’s presence (normally under the church) meant that it was even more visited and “overseen” then the cemetery. Any visitor to the church, was also visiting the family’s ancestors – though often unknowing of the fact of what exactly lay beneath their feet. Finally, even today, in a cemetery, we pay more attention to an elaborate tomb than to a mere cross. So, even though you may not be able to take it with you… you can, even in death, show it off.

All of this to position the village of Rennes-le-Château within the larger context, and not treat it as the exception, which so many have done. The cemetery of Rennes-le-Château was not some specific holy ground, like being buried in the Vatican; as a village, it followed – and largely still follows – the norm of every other village in France and beyond.
Like so many other places, it had a castle, a church, houses and a cemetery. It did not have a religious community living in some segregated part of it, as some communities had – and sometimes still have. It implies that Rennes-le-Château was never the centre of a specific religious devotion or attention – it was “just” an “ordinary” village.
Access to the cemetery of Rennes-le-Château is currently restricted. Only the inhabitants or people who can prove they have a descendent buried in the cemetery are allowed access. Is it legal? The action at the time was contested, but time has passed and the decision remains in place… We will merely add, without taking any sides in this debate, that an “open door policy” in the past had led to plundering and a rapid degradation of a site that should try and maintain its sanctity. At the same time, we add that Saunière himself, in his day, seemed to have little respect for the sacredness of the cemetery – or its inhabitants.

So though the door to the cemetery of Rennes-le-Château is now locked, let us imagine how the green door swings on its hinges, and we wander inside. What we see today bears little resemblance to what people saw thirty or fifty years ago. People have said that each time they walked through this door, it seemed as if graves had been moved. And that had been quite often the case: though not through magic, but through human hands trying to uncover some “secret”. And why all this digging in this place? Because Saunière himself did it and because one of the graves was supposed to be the grave of a famous local woman, Marie de Nègre d’Ables, which according to some theories, was a “fake” tomb – it really was Mary Magdalene buried there. So, as a result, every corner of the cemetery was dug up, four or more times over. But let us not forgot that the first profanation and destruction was allegedly – allegedly! – carried out by Saunière himself. As divine providence would have it, a few years later, Saunière himself was buried in this cemetery. When his own tomb became the subject of much desecration, his remains were moved to the grounds of his former domain.

Digging at the priest

So, let us begin with Saunière, who was apparently the first to penetrate into the kingdom of the dead of the village – both inside the cemetery as well as apparently inside the church, i.e. the crypt of the local lords.
It is difficult to trace the “out of the ordinary” actions of Saunière, for the church and the cemetery were part of his “working environment”. Access to these sites was for him no problem at all – and neither was his presence. But some activities fell outside the “norm” and were noted by the locals: Saunière was found to wander into the cemetery by night. It seems unlikely that he was so taken up by his duties as a priest that he could not let go of his job by night, and was constantly obsessing about his care for the dead. If we would consider this thought, let us note that his nightly forays into the cemetery were not for prayer or meditation, but instead seemed to involve digging up or around the location.
There are at first some minor complaints addressed to Saunière that he was moving tombs or tombstones, without the consultation nor approval of the families involved. He defends his behaviour by claiming that it is done so as to create more space in the cemetery! But the complaints do not seem to stop his behaviour and formal – official – complaints are therefore filed against him, first locally, then higher up the administrative chain. It is only then that Saunière decides to stop his work. We can only wonder whether he stops because he is afraid of the consequences if he continues to behave as such… or whether he has finished his work and thus is no longer required to continue digging. It is very well possible that the second solution is the correct one.
What to make of this behaviour? Was he searching for something? Or was he instead indeed “cleaning up”, as he said he was? Removing certain clues? Traces? Was he changing the layout of the cemetery, perhaps because someone had used it to give indications of something that could be deduced from its layout?

“Discovery of a tomb”… but which one?

Though we think we know much about Saunière, in truth, there are large sections of his life about which we know very little. We have documents at our disposal, but apart from the Corbu family, practically no-one ever got to hear a full and detailed account of “the real Saunière”. When it comes to the infamous notebooks, they were obviously there for Saunière as an aide as to what happened when. They were for his own personal use. But for anyone else, they reveal little. “September 21 – letter from Granes. Discovery of a tomb, rain in the evening.” What letter? From whom? What tomb? Is it an important discovery, or just the “highlight” of another apparently dull day? And is it important that it rained in the evening, e.g. had there been a draught? Or was it just something he wanted to use as a trigger for his memory when he would next read his notes?

Likely and not so likely scenarios

The general consensus amongst many researchers is that Saunière sought something and that he ended up finding it in his cemetery. But there are several problems with this. The first scenario is that he exactly knew where to find something. Which begs the question why he was digging all over the place. The second scenario is that he knew something was hidden, but did not know exactly where. This begs the question how he knew, and why that source had not located the exact site. Still, both suggest an “origin”: someone telling him something, for it seems preposterous to imagine that Saunière begins to dig up his graveyard for no reason – except, of course, if he was indeed “making room” for additional graves – but in that scenario, we would see other people doing the work for him, with the proper consents from the people affected, and definitely not him carrying out the work in the middle of the night.
Also, we know that if he knew that “something” was “somewhere in the cemetery”, it is clear that he had some indication as to where it was, for he did not disturb the entire cemetery, but only certain tombs.
We also note that the official complaints came on March 12 and 14, 1895. Saunière arrived in the parish on June 1, 1885 and after some initial problems, became an established member of the village on July 1, 1886. He brought with him a gift of 3000 francs from the Countess of Chambord, which he used to carry out the first essential repairs to the church. From 1886 to 1891, Saunière reworked his church into largely what we still see today. Then, in 1890, he begins to restore the cemetery, as well as the presbytery.
Let us therefore look at a “logical” scenario – which may not be the correct one, but at least it is a logical one. Saunière, upon his arrival in the village, does find “something” – a clue, a hint – which leads him to discover “something else”. Then, after this discovery, he makes sure that “someone” is no longer able to work it out for himself. And this involves playing and moving about certain tombs in the cemetery of the village.

Linking the cemetery with the presbytery

In 1892, work continues, or begins again, on the cemetery and its access. He also begins the construction of the “grotto” and, above the cistern, the construction of his repository, which he will use as an office annex library. By 1895, as we know, he is upsetting the locals, eliciting the complaints in March at the Prefecture. Three years later, in 1898, his “oeuvre” is finished: church, presbytery and everything else is completed.
It sees the start of the next phase, which will last until 1905: acquisitions for his “domain”, which we now know as the “Villa Bethania”. It is also the year – 1898 – that we know that he spent time in Lyon, in the months of May, June and September.
But let us backtrack, and note that 1892 is the timeframe when he works on the cemetery, the repository and the grotto. All of this work is around the access to the cemetery and all of this work places its access under his personal supervision: he spends a large amount of time in his repository, which sits right next to the entrance to the cemetery. It is difficult to get past him – unless, of course, it is one of those periods in which he is not in Rennes-le-Château at all!
An important question that needs to be asked is whether or not there is a relationship between this work and the work being carried out on the presbytery. We note that in theory, there is no real mystery why work was carried out here: the building was in such a dilapidated state that work had to be carried out. But though urgent repairs were in order, it is clear that in 1892, Saunière has been in the village for six years and only now becomes interested in this structure. Why wait so long?

Entry: whether dead or alive

Perhaps, indeed, we should praise Saunière for not first looking after himself but instead devote time and money to the church. But though the good of the community may be his prime preoccupation in 1886, by 1895, we see him desecrating the peace in the local cemetery – so at the very least, in the intervening decade, something has changed in his demeanour towards the villagers, who have slid down in his scale of importance.
Again, let’s apply some logic and a scenario, and see where it takes us: after some initial work, he now finds the “location” of “something” may be linked with the presbytery. We know, from another series of articles, that even recently, when the presbytery was reworked into a museum, an “underground structure” was opened and re-sealed. This suggests that the presbytery and the church shared one common underground structure. In a previous series of article, we showed that Saunière was aware of this information. We also noted then that the party wall between the church and the presbytery had been, originally, the primary entrance into the church. And that Saunière knew this too, as he spent some of his money on restoration.
Why repeat this information? Because, as we noted at the beginning, in villages, the dead were buried around the church, not merely in a designated place, but quite often all around the immediate vicinity of the church. What we see today is merely the last remnant of the original “sacred ground” where the villagers of Rennes-le-Château were formerly buried: all around the church.

Saunière ends up having the secret

Saunière’s actions may seem strange, but what to make of the actions of his predecessors? Why remove or obscure the tombs in front of the church to make way for the presbytery? Really, the priest can live anywhere and the construction of a new building would be secondary to the presence of tombs. Furthermore, who wants to live on top of dead people? Furthermore, doing away with the principal entrance to a church to rework it into the party wall of the presbytery doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. We should note that when this work is carried out, the local lord has a chaplain living inside the castle itself, which means that the need for a presbytery is non-existent. Though perhaps there is some reason to move the priest out of the castle, the presbytery could be built anywhere – and often is not attached to the church itself. Sometimes, it is even a few streets away.
In short, what it could mean is this: by putting the presbytery right next to the chapel, it is possible to create an entrance into the underground sections of the church, from within the presbytery. At the same time, some tombs or constructions that sat next or in front of the original entrance, would now become “locked” – closed off – because of the construction of the presbytery on top of them. The construction of the presbytery thus “locks off” any old entrance and the owner of that site regulates access to the underground structure. Still, a secondary entrance may exist elsewhere… perhaps masked as a tomb? Or “something” like that.
As to the presbytery, let us repeat what Saunière did: he would continue to live in the presbytery until the end of his life, even though he could move elsewhere – and with de Beausejour in power, was told to move elsewhere. He did not budge, and after him, Marie Denarnaud wouldn’t either. Why did these people, who could live elsewhere, in better accommodation, such as the villa, hold on to living in the presbytery? Was it because their successor might uncover something in the presbytery? Something Saunière uncovered when he had to start work on the presbytery? A tomb? Perhaps…

Bigou or… the scrupulous transmission of the secret

Every story has a beginning and thus it is clear that this story had a beginning at the time when the first local lords began to bury their dead in, near or under the church of Rennes-le-Château. This series ends with the dead of Marie de Nègre d’Ables, on January 17, 1781, when her chaplain, who is also her confessor, her adviser and right-hand man, is apparently put in charge of her burial and everything that comes with it. That man is the local village priest, Antoine Bigou. We know that shortly afterwards, the turmoil of the French Revolution forces him to flee to Spain, passing through Durban and Perillos on his way south – or south east, to be precise. Then, it seems, he passes on this information to another priest in exile, entrusting certain details to his personal notebook which will later turn up in Spain, and which today are in the hands of a fraternity.
But it may be the case that Bigou left certain “hints” scattered about Rennes-le-Château; or perhaps he simply did not have time to remove the “hints” that had always been there. Or perhaps the notebook contains references to specific tombs, which – as tombs do – remain in the same location… until the time when Saunière begins to move them about.
We note that the so-called Priory of Sion places great importance in the tombstone of this Marie de Nègre, and claims that it holds vital information on the whereabouts of “the secret”. But at the same time, we know that the principal agents in this affaire go to the lengths of changing or even inventing inscriptions on this tombstone, to make it fit within a preconceived theory, which pushes the reader into the direction of their “Priory of Sion” – and a Merovingian tomb, they tell us.
Though the Priory may not have been the guardian of the secret of Rennes-le-Château, the local priests may always have been the guardians of the secret of the Hautpoul family. And that secret may have been linked with certain tombs in the immediate vicinity of the church. It is the local lord that will have to secure the priest’s cooperation, as he “sits” on top of this secret. But after the French Revolution, times have changed and with all the work being carried out, Saunière is in a prime position to discover, retrieve and later obscure what he has found.
Now… why do we think this is “logical”? Because this information was given to us by a descendant of the Hautpoul family, currently residing in Italy. But to dig into that dimension, we will have to start a new chapter….

continued>>

André Douzet
We would like to thank Jean Brunelin for providing some of the photographs appearing in this article.