A short summary

Let us make a brief inventory of the manner in which things stand: In the late 18th century, Antoine Bigou is the priest of Rennes-le-Château and he is about to go into exile in Spain as an outcome of the French Revolution. There is no doubt that he knows the location of the two family tombs of the Hautpoul family and of the Calvary cross, which still stands in his cemetery. He knew about the family tombs because he was the village priest and interred Marie d’Hautpoul in the ladies’ vault. After her deathbed confession, Bigou becomes a man who believes – perhaps correctly – that Fate has given him a major role. But how can a small village priest, in the decade leading up to the French Revolution, do anything at all to change the course of history – or preserve one of its more vital secrets? He realises that he can do very little, except to make sure that the secret is safe for the immediate future and that hopefully someone in a future era will be able to access it. He will seal the secret, create a clue (the “tomb” of Marie d’Hautpoul in the cemetery of his village) and leave it for future generations to try and break and unlock it. It is simple, intelligent, and within his power.

We know that underneath the church, there is the crypt of the lords of Rennes-le-Château, namely the Hautpoul family. This is in itself nothing out of the ordinary and can be found in hundreds of French towns. As to its exact location, we know that this crypt leads to a “forgotten” opening outside, on the north wall of the church. This is the location where Bigou located his (false) tomb of Marie d’Hautpoul. We also note that this location is where the chapel and the presbytery join. The coincidence is all the more remarkable when we note that the cellar of the presbytery is situated just on the other side of this wall… and that it is still there, hidden underneath the wooden floor of the presbytery’s exhibition, as we proved in another text, detailing the presbytery. Hence, from the underground of the presbytery, whose use is solely reserved for the priests of the village (with the consent of the local lords), at least two galleries leave. If one leads to the crypt of the lords, the other seems to lead outside, where it surfaces in this false tomb… and perhaps in a secondary network which could have been part of some type of vault… and thus may have harboured some treasure(s).
Perhaps Bigou may not have been aware of all aspects of the mystery at the time that he heard the confession, but he must have been able to work out many elements by himself… and at least knew enough… that which mattered. And that’s what Saunière will recover almost exactly a century later.
It is entirely possible that, from the crypt, one can access another network, which may lead to an exit elsewhere. We equally note that this system may be extremely old, perhaps even dating back to pre-Christian times. If so, it would mean that underneath the village, a vast necropolis could be hidden from view. If, of course, anything is still left, for over the centuries, if not the millennia, certain people had and controlled access to this underground kingdom and may have robbed it clean. But the question is whether it is a stand-alone location, or whether it has got links with other sites, either nearby, or far off… in short: elsewhere. If this is the case, may this be the reason why, when going to Spain in exile, Bigou passes through Durban and Perillos first?

"Jésus de Galilée nest point icy"

Let us construct a scenario… After all, so many screenplays have been based upon this mystery that one more, perhaps closer to the truth and the heart of the mystery, won’t hurt. Bigou knows. It’s an extraordinary secret. Perhaps the first thought that goes through his head is to destroy everything. Then he reconsiders. Can he destroy something that has been passed on and which has been painstakingly – perhaps even to the point of giving one’s own life for it – preserved? He is now the heir of this tradition and perhaps he too should pass it on? Continue the line? But to whom should he pass it on? He has no children, unlike the many generations of the Hautpoul family that passed it on as such. He will soon go into exile. Who can he give it to? Perhaps one of his eventual successors in Rennes-le-Château? A man who will begin his post in the small village without any awareness whatsoever about what it is that he is sitting upon? But if Bigou is somehow able to inform him, then, like Bigou, his entire world will suddenly change and he will no longer be the man he was before.
Bigou comes up with the visual clue of the tomb of Marie d’Hautpoul. But will that be enough? Coincidences do exist, or at least, it will probably not be enough to interest any of his successors. So he needs another “hint”. He needs to write something down. Yes, write something down, for not everyone is able to read. But priests are. Leave it somewhere where only his eventual successors will be interested in and have access too. But not too obvious. A bit like a warning, a key phrase, repeated about a dozen times, as if it was a litany… or even a magical ritual.
And that is exactly where fiction becomes reality: there is such a paper; it is in bad shape, but nevertheless preserved. It seems as if the top two lines are missing from the page. What remains are ten, identical lines: “Jésus de Galilée nest point icy”. “Jesus of Galilee is not here.” The obvious reaction is: of course not. Why would he be? We are in Rennes-le-Château, not the Holy Land! But still, this is Bigou. This is 1790, not 1970, let alone 1997, when the connection between Rennes-le-Château and Jesus becomes far more popular. But it is neither 1917, when Saunière dies. Saunière, who at that time, is working on a model, upon which we find that “Jesus of Galilee is there”, or at least Saunière seems to say so, for on this model, he identifies one site as “Tomb of Christ”. And, indeed, whereas Bigou stated that Jesus was not in Rennes-le-Château, Saunière seems to suggest that Jesus is in Perillos!

Everything must disappear… again

Let us observe we are neither drunk nor insane. Worse, we are still on topic; we are still talking about the cemetery of Rennes. Worst, we are still talking about the tomb of Marie d’Hautpoul, which – everyone agrees – is at the very heart of the mystery. Indeed, our scenario is a reconstruction, and it is not proven that this is the way in which Bigou thought and operated. It’s logical, consistent and concise, but therefore not necessarily the truth. But let us note one coincidence, already outlined in the first dossier on the model: the dimensions of this model, including the slightly off-set side, has the same dimensions as the tomb of Marie d’Hautpoul. Coincidence, or evidence that our analysis of what went on between Bigou and Saunière is indeed spot on?
But let us note certain other parallels too: Bigou creates a puzzle in his cemetery, to indicate what he has hidden: the underground system that sits underneath the presbytery, the church and the cemetery. Even ardent sceptics of the entire mystery may possibly agree with that (facts seldom convince them). But Bigou is not the only one who creates a puzzle: Saunière too encodes his knowledge, into a model. And it is almost as if the model provides the direct answer to the church register of Rennes, in which the note that “Jesus is not here” is written down.
At the same time, it is clear that Bigou played with the elements of the cemetery, and that Saunière is known to have desecrated the cemetery too – and it seems much more so than Bigou. Bigou knows a secret, then encodes. Saunière sees the puzzle, decodes it, obliterates the clues in the cemetery, finds the secret and late in his life, he encodes it as well, in his model. As to why he did not destroy the paper in the church’s register, we do not know. Perhaps as a souvenir? Or perhaps because he realised that on its own, it would not mean anything? Let us finally note that, as is the case in Perillos, these old parish registers are not located in Rennes-le-Château themselves, but are in the hands of a private citizen, a person who is well-known in the corridors of Rennes-le-Château.

Let us underline that the previous “path” would never have been reconstructed by us (or anyone else) if it hadn’t been done via contacts in Italy. Just like another “coincidence” brought us into contact with the journalist who knew about the “Cross of Hautpoul”. They are two key ingredients that made sense of the local puzzle, left behind by Bigou, and which bears striking parallels (dare one say mirrors?) with the actions of Saunière later on. But let us underline that without those elements, Saunière’s destruction of the clues left by Bigou was indeed perfect.

"The ossuary is full"

Saunière carried out various activities in this funerary enclosure. And he behaved rather oddly when it came to the ossuary. He himself works inside the cemetery, moving the ossuary from one location to a new location. Why does he do so? He states that the old one is full, if not overflowing. It is at this time that he also desecrates some of the other tombs, which will lead to the violent reaction from his parishioners, who do not approve.
On the surface, there is nothing too special about the work that Saunière carries out, provided it has the proper consent from all authorities, including the affected families, involved. When tombs are moved, the bones that are dug up in the process are then located in the ossuary. But… Like most other cemeteries, that of Rennes has already got an ossuary. Nothing suggests that it is full or almost full. Even if full, one can enlarge it. But Saunière breaks all the rules himself: he does not ask for any approval, he just does as he pleases, and no-one likes what he does. When caught, he does not say he is sorry.
In short, there is no logical reason why there should be an ossuary in the location where we find one today: on the northern side of the cemetery, right next to the iron gate, the entrance. We note that the wall against which the ossuary is built is yet another “gift” from Saunière himself, who had it constructed. It therefore suggests that Saunière was planning his new ossuary at the time that these works were carried out. Finally, let us note that the original ossuary was located near the “red tomb”, near the church’s tower.

All of this to note that this cemetery seems to have been the theatre of moving tombs – even disappearing tombs. Let us note that it was Saunière who was responsible for most disappearing acts: the tombs of Hautpoul, some other tombs that vanished, apparently casualties of war, and the ossuary. The Calvary disappeared earlier, shortly after Bigou fled the country. It seems that anything that is connected with the Hautpoul family, such as their tombs in and under the cemetery of Rennes-le-Château, seems destined to be wiped from memory. But the agent is not Time, but people, Saunière, who makes sure that is what happens. Whereas some of the work can be carried out easily by one man – and Saunière definitely had the physique for it – some of the work requires at least the help of someone who is able to carry or hold this or that. So, perhaps it was Marie who helped him in this, though perhaps there was another person involved? If so, who?

The last piece of the funerary puzzle?

So it is debatable whether or not Saunière needed help or not for most of the tasks in his cemetery. But when it comes to the relocation of the ossuary, it is clear that he definitely needed assistance. It is even debatable whether some tasks were do-able by him and Marie alone; we think that he needed the help of more people to carry it out: one or two helpers would have been appreciated, as well as a cart, to help transport the material across parts of the cemetery. Furthermore, not all of this could have occurred at night time. So it is clear that such work will have been noticed by the villagers. They did… we know. But what is equally of interest is that any payment for these “helping hands” was not written down in the famous “accounting booklets” which Saunière meticulously kept, but about which we know that not every sale or expenditure was logged into.

It’s clear that when Saunière personally financed an iron door, a wall and a new ossuary, he did this for purely selfish reasons. And by 1895, the community had come to that same conclusion – though it seems that not too many researchers have come to this logical conclusion! They may even have realised what really was going on. What if the villagers, like Marie, had always heard rumours about treasures or oddities? When Saunière began to dig around the place and damage the graves, did they realise they had been had? Saunière had claimed that the cemetery needed a reorganisation, but really, it was veneer for personal digs and safeguarding what he had found.
When the ossuary was moved, the last piece of the puzzle disappeared. Let us note that the original ossuary sits close (if not upon) the location where Pierrot Alquier and his colleague, whom we came across in part 2, discovered an opening in which “three men on horseback could stand”. We also know that soon afterwards, they possessed a tiny fortune… indeed, it seems that those who dig graves, like Alquier and Saunière, seemed to stumble upon “things” in Rennes. It brings new meaning to the expression “digging for gold”!

The angels’ square

As we make our way towards the exit of the cemetery, we notice a largely unused space on our left. It is here that the “angels’ square” is situated: the area where non-baptised children were buried. Largely, these were children which were stillborn or died immediately after birth. In situ, there are no visual clues that this is an area where people are buried: no tombs, no flowers… as if one does not speak about such things and prefers not to remember what happened. That is indeed understandable… at the time. Today, we could observe that the area has not been used for a very long time. Perhaps it is indeed merely the result of the likelihood that fewer people are born in Rennes-le-Château and even fewer infants die during childbirth. But it seems as if this has been the case for several decades, judging from the state of the area. Demographic evidence suggests that this is not the case. It seems somehow to be left untouched.
This location was popularly known as “the Square of Angels” or (the French) “limbes”, i.e. limbo. Limbo is a state in which non-baptised people were believed to be in after death; non-baptised children were termed “angels”. The word “limbo” comes from the Latin “limbus”, which means border or edge. This state, which was not “hell” or negative, but rather passive, was situated at the edge of Paradise… and Hell.
Geographically, in the cemetery of Rennes-le-Château, we note that it is located against the southern wall… a wall constructed by Saunière, the wall that has the iron gate in it. It is also a wall that did not exist before Saunière’s time. And that is one of the main reasons why originally the “Angels’ square” was not located here. When we consult the few documents that exist about the state of the cemetery before Saunière’s time, we find that the area indeed did not exist, or at least not there. In fact, it was located against the wall of the church, in the famous section that Saunière totally rearranged. Indeed, it was normally intentionally placed against the wall of the church – the edge of the holy ground – so that the parents of the deceased infant were comforted in some respect that the link with Heaven was not completely destroyed. Furthermore, they were often placed against the walls of such buildings because popularly, it was believed that the rain that dripped from the roof of a holy building “baptised” the tomb of the non-baptised children. It is clear that Saunière had no such regards for the feelings of his parishioners and radically altered the location of the site, though he did somewhat place it against the wall of his “reposoire”, so that its unholy rainwater did somewhat fall on their non-baptised limbs.

The logic of the innocents

It is clear that Saunière did not act alone. And it is clear that there is great logic and thought into what Saunière did in this sector. The site of the new ossuary sits against a small building, which Saunière used as his study and library. Previously, we have noted that it was totally illogical for Saunière to build his study there, for it meant that he had to leave the house and walk some distance to work and/or to read. He could have built it closer, or elsewhere, or not at all, but instead, he chose to build it there. He built it on top of a cistern, to which he needed to grant the local community access, but which he declined to do on July 14, 1895, when a fire broke out in the village.
It is clear that if there was an access to the underground network, Saunière had to guard and protect certain things, as innocently as he could make it appear to be. But not everything could be easily hidden, like the desecration of the tombs. In fact, when you do a chronological overview of the various elements, one has to wonder whether the villagers lit that fire on July 14 1895 on purpose, so that they had to break in and use the water. Saunière was not at home, so under the guise of an emergency, did they inspect his study while he could not interfere? But that’s just a mad conclusion, for sure…
Equally mad thought: this library sat on top of a body of water. And where does it go to? Towards the castle and the cemetery. Was it once incorporated into an underground system of the dead? And if Saunière was a magician as some people claim he was, then did he perform rituals in his library? If so, let us note that in magic, the presence of innocent souls, such as those of non-baptised children, is a great “battery”.

The cult of the dead, according to Saunière

Is it a coincidence that Saunière built his library on top of a site that sits on top of water that may be part of network to do with the dead and next to a site that was reserved for the innocent souls? If you believe that this is indeed the case, for example if you are convinced by the thesis of The Rise by Isaac ben Jacob, then indeed you may not think this is just a coincidence.
Finally, it is extremely odd that this “Angels’ Square” was located so close to – if not touching – a water point, a cistern even. Did this not pose great potential danger for contamination? Let us also note that this cistern and some parts of the “underground natural network” that existed for thousands of years (as it was natural), must, at the time of Saunière, have been inspected if not strengthened in certain places. It was after all Saunière who installed a water feature just outside of the cemetery, so someone with some hydraulic knowledge must have installed the required equipment and system for this to work. The workmen must have known some aspects of it.
But if one studies the detail of the “Marcot” document, than it clearly shows a “dry” gallery that runs parallel to a gallery which carries the water to the cisterns of Rennes. The “Angels’ Square” sits right on top of this dry passage. Coincidence? Or evidence that through this section, one can pass into the dry subterranean gallery? Let us note it was he who installed that section and designated it as being riddled with the bones of deceased babies. Who in their right mind, even if totally obsessed with the treasure of Rennes-le-Château would want to dig there? Unless, of course, there are no bones at all…

You will be punished where you sinned

It is clear that the interesting parts of the cemetery are in a relatively small and clearly identified area… at least, that is now the case with the publication of this article. There was an “original area” and there was a “new area”, which Saunière created. Both provide key access points to the underground network, apart from the “normal” points of access, i.e. under the presbytery and inside the church itself.
As to the location of his own tomb and that of Marie, that was in another area, namely the far west of the cemetery, against the wall of his villa. His tomb was a vault, which in theory could extend underneath the parting wall and into his domain. Was this final choice deliberate, or merely the result of circumstances, like available spaces to implant such a construction? It seems unlikely, for we of course know that Saunière had been making “room” in his cemetery to accommodate the newly deceased and he must have pondered where he wanted to be buried himself. Still, let us note that the tombs of Saunière and Marie are located on the east-west axis of the “Cross of Hautpoul”. Was it a symbolic hint that even in death, he guarded over the “kingdom of the dead” of his village? Perhaps…
Of course, since 2004, Saunière rests in a new tomb, inside his own domain. A lot of controversy surrounds this relocation and there are many rumours flying around the place, most of which are not really worthy of comment, or which do make a point, but at the most basic of level so that the argumentation does not carry any weight whatsoever. But let us merely note that the new location sits along the “Marcot axis” (the pre-Revolutionary document that maps the layout of the cemetery of Rennes-le-Château), highlighted by the presence of two wells. Perhaps the land of the dead of Rennes-le-Château has not yet surrendered all of its secrets?

André Douzet