Eight

notre dame de paris, 1845

Someone must have broken into the room and switched documents. Surely that was the only explanation for the content of the papers strewn across the architect’s desk.

Eugène Viollet-le-Duc frowned. He looked from old architectural drawings of Notre Dame de Paris to sketches of the cathedral over the centuries. These records couldn’t be right, could they? Yet Viollet-le-Duc could not fathom the purpose of such a deception.

The world-renowned architect and artist had been hired along with Jean-Baptiste-Antoine Lassus to restore the grand cathedral. To Viollet-le-Duc, “restore” was a broad term. He had plans to bring the outdated building into the nineteenth century. He dreamed of simultaneously restoring the previous glory of the cathedral and adding modern flourishes to show the new generation how glorious the Paris institution truly was.

To ensure his own additions would be perfectly integrated, the architect gathered official historical records and sought out artists’ renditions of the cathedral over the centuries.

Now that he had both sets of records before him, something wasn’t right.

The cathedral’s construction had begun in 1163, and modifications had continued for centuries. The prolonged construction was due to both expanding the site’s glory to God and taking advantage of new advances in architecture. Viollet-le-Duc planned to use modern architectural styles and techniques, as his predecessors had done with their own generations’ discoveries. There was also more to be done than restoration and expansion. There was also rebuilding sections that had been destroyed. During the French Revolution of the previous century, which had ended shortly before his birth, the revolutionaries had destroyed anything they felt symbolized nobility. Religious symbols of the Kings of Judah on the façade of Notre Dame had been mistaken for Kings of France, and therefore defaced.

Yet if he could believe the drawings made by multiple artists, the old carvings on the façade hadn’t simply been vandalized. At different points in the cathedral’s history, the carvings on the façade had been altered to give them new meaning.

That meant not all of the destruction had been done to deface the monument, as he’d been led to believe.

Viollet-le-Duc hastily unfurled the official plans and sketches in his possession. None of them showed the strange writing carved into the facade. He turned his attention back to the drawings that showed the real carvings. With a magnifying lens, he looked more closely. Riddles. These words made no sense. What a strange thing!

And what was this? He looked more closely, focusing the magnifying lens. A drawing of the cathedral before the French Revolution showed a man holding a book. The stone book bore the Latin words Non Degenera Alchemia.

Viollet-le-Duc chuckled to himself. Stonemasons often bemoaned that they were uncredited for their efforts. To be remembered, they would sometimes carve representations of themselves into their work. The stone carvers who worked on this section of Notre Dame must have had a good sense of humor. They had put their own secret joke in a place that would be seen by scores of people. He appreciated the effort, and regretted that he was obliged to restore that section to its original meaning.

Suddenly seized with inspiration, he cleared the desk and sat down with his notebook open in front of him. With an expert hand, he began to sketch. A winged creature took form beneath his pen. This was no angel; it was a gargoyle.

He paused, picturing the current cathedral in his mind. Weathered stone gargoyles already surrounded much of the old church. Though far enough from the ground that one had to squint to see their details, those gargoyles had always inspired his imagination. It was a shame that their function as waterspouts also meant they naturally crumbled within decades rather than centuries. He wished to carve larger chimeras that could be appreciated both from the street below and up close. Grotesques that would not be hindered by being functional waterspouts. Viollet-le-Duc imagined a gallery high atop the cathedral, where commoners could climb to view the splendid city and also get a closer look at the architectural details of the cathedral itself. High above the stonemasons’ alchemy joke, this would be his Gallery of Chimeras.