CHAPTER NINE

PRIESTS AND PRELATES

Corruption optimi pessima.

The Rennes-le-Château enigma not only involves men of mystery, like the alchemists and Rosicrucians, and ancient noble families like the Habsburgs: it embroils a surprising number of priests as well. Some of them were almost as mysterious in their own ways as Flamel, Paracelsus and Tesla.

Bérenger Saunière

Bérenger Saunière, the best known of them, was born in the tiny hilltop village of Montazels close to Couiza in the high valley of the Aude on April 11th, 1852. His father worked for the Marquis of Cazemayou, and the family were loyal monarchists. Bérenger was the oldest of seven children, and his brother, Alfred, also became a priest. Their attractive terraced house overlooked an eighteenth century fountain decorated with three enigmatic stone Tritons.

In 1874 Bérenger passed the entrance examination for the Grand Diocesan Seminary where he studied for five years. He was ordained in June 1879, and on July 16th was appointed as Assistant Priest in the Parish of Alet. Three years later he became Curé of Clat, where he stayed for a further three years. On June 1st, 1885, he was appointed as Parish Priest of Rennes-le-Château. As an enthusiastic and traditional Royalist and a strong anti-Republican, Bérenger proceeded to preach two powerful anti-Republican sermons on Sunday October 4th and Sunday October 18th that year. As a result he fell foul of the victorious anti-clerical Republican politicians in Aude after the election. In January of1886 he was nominated as a lecturer in the Seminary at Narbonne, but in July of the same year he was re-appointed as Curé of Rennes-le-Château.

In 1887 some extensive work was carried out in his little church of St. Mary Magdalen, principally in connection with replacing the altar. The old altar was said to have stood on two stone Visigothic pillars, one of which was allegedly hollow and was believed to have contained the mysterious coded parchments with their odd message about Poussin, Teniers and the blue17 apples.

It was in 1888 that Saunière and the Abbé Boudet of Rennes-les-Bains got to know each other. Henri Boudet was fifteen years older than Saunière and possessed a deep, complex and scholarly mind. There is no doubt that he exerted a powerful influence over the younger priest.

On July 1st, 1889, Monseigneur Félix Arsène Billard, the Bishop of Carcassonne, made a special visit to Rennes-le-Château.

During the period between May 4th and June 12th, 1890, Saunière was also placed in charge of the Parish of Antugnac, about seven kilometres from Rennes-le-Château.

In 1891 he erected the statue of Our Lady of Lourdes, with the inscription Penitence! Penitence! below it. It was during this same year that he uncovered the famous dalle du chevalier which is currently on display in the museum at Rennes. It is a very ancient carved stone — old enough to be Visigothic or Merovingian. Its primitive carving might represent a knight carrying a child on horseback, although some authorities have suggested that it is meant to depict the Holy Family's flight into Egypt to avoid Herod's barbaric cruelty.

In 1897 Saunière created the “Terrain Fleury” wall decoration at the south of the church, near the confessional; and, at the same time, the very peculiar bénitier (holy water stoup) was built. According to émile Saunière the grimacing demon at the base of this curious arrangement is meant to represent, or personify, Republicanism, which Bérenger greatly disliked: it's certainly one possible explanation! The inscription reads: “By this sign (i.e., the sign of the cross) you will conquer him.” The letters B.S. on this strange statuary are either the initials of Bérenger Saunière or a combination of Boudet-Saunière to show that both priests had a hand in designing the work.

In 1899 Saunière purchased various parcels of land around the church and presbytery — all in the name of Marie Dénarnaud his young housekeeper. Massive building projects went on for the next few years: the Villa Bethania, the Magdalen Tower, the orangeries and promenades. Money was obviously coming in from somewhere to pay for all these expensive projects…but from where?

Unfortunately, on January 28th, 1908, Saunière fell foul of the new bishop, the unpleasantly inquisitive, bureaucratic and persistent de Beauséjour. Monseigneur Billard had been an ideal bishop: a good and tolerant man — prepared to live and let live as far as Saunière was concerned. Although Bérenger fought off de Beauséjour successfully most of the time with the nonchalant contempt that such a bishop richly deserved, there can be little doubt that de Beauséjour and his bureaucratic henchmen in the diocesan hierarchy eventually wore Saunière down, and were largely responsible for the deterioration of his once robust health.

By 1915 de Beauséjour's spite had deprived Saunière of his parish title. In 1916 he made a pilgrimage to Lourdes in the hope of recovering his health and spirits. He came home full of plans for a new tower fifty metres high, for a rampart all around the village, for a piped water supply to each home…but these grand designs were never realised.

According to Émile Saunière's account of his famous relative's life, Bérenger had a heart attack on January 20th, 1917, sent for his friend, the Abbé Rivière, Priest of Espéraza, to hear his final confession, and died on January 22nd.

Rumours and dimming local memories supply most of the other sinister and curious information which has accumulated around Saunière's death: it is said that mysterious visitors called shortly before Saunière had his “heart attack”; that his coffin was ordered and paid for in advance; that Father Rivière was so shocked by Saunière's last confession that he himself became ill and was unable to work for several months afterwards; that Saunière's parishioners filed past his body as he sat in state covered by a red cloth from which each mourner plucked a pompom as a souvenir…

Marie lived on until 1953 having promised that she would reveal her old master's secret when she knew herself to be dying. She had a stroke two weeks before her death which left her speechless and paralysed, and, although she tried very hard to whisper the secret to Noël Corbu, who had befriended her during her declining years, nothing intelligible came out…

She and Saunière lie buried side by side at the west end of the little cemetery alongside the church of St. Mary Magdalen.

Abbé Boudet

Was Henri Jean-Jacques Boudet the power behind Bérenger Saunière? Those who have studied his role in the mystery closely, declare that Saunière was only the highly visible puppet who attracted all the limelight while Boudet the puppet master remained concealed in the shadows behind the stage.

Boudet was born on November 16th, 1837, at Quillan, into a poor family. Fortunately a neighbouring clergyman detected the boy's intelligence and generously paid for his education. On Christmas Day 1861, the twenty-four year old Boudet was ordained; in 1872 Bishop Billard appointed him as Parish Priest of Rennes-les-Bains. Like Saunière a few years later, Boudet was a tireless walker. In view of Saunière's strange interests in stones, one of Boudet's comments to Gassaud (another neighbouring priest) may be significant: “I enjoy the greenery on fine days,” he wrote, “but I like the winter when the greenery no longer hides the stones…”

Boudet's tantalising and enigmatic book La Vraie Langue Celtique et le Cromleck de Rennes-les-Bains was more or less completed in 1880, but it took another six years of re-setting and typographical modification before it finally came off the press in 1886, at Boudet's own expense.

From 1886 to 1914 only ninety-eight copies were sold; 100 were given away to libraries, V.I.P's and charities; 200 more were given to interested visitors who had come to Rennes-les-Bains for the “water cure” — it was in its heyday a fashionable thermal health spa. This left 102 copies which were destroyed in 1914. The original run of 500 copies cost 5382 gold francs to produce…all very strange. Some sources indicate that the unpleasant Bishop de Beauséjour ordered the last of Boudet's books to be destroyed in 1914 when he allegedly also deprived the sick old priest of his living. Other sources indicate that Boudet himself had them destroyed. De Beauséjour seems a prime suspect, but there is said to be evidence from Boudet's own correspondence to indicate that the destruction was in accordance with his wishes.

Boudet's death and burial were almost as strange as his book. His mother and sister had died in 1895 and 1896 and been buried in the cemetery at Rennes-les-Bains. When de Beauséjour removed Boudet from his Parish in 1914, he was 77 years old and reported to be gravely ill with intestinal cancer. He retired to Axat where his brother Edmond, a lawyer, had lived until his death on May 5th, 1907. It was strongly rumoured — although such stories are difficult to substantiate — that Boudet, despite his grave illness, did not die of natural causes. He is alleged to have been visited by some sinister strangers and died in agony a few hours later. Similar rumours circulated in connection with the death of Napoleon I. The official line was that the former Emperor had died of stomach cancer: the rumour was that he had been poisoned. It was also rumoured that despite Saunière's deteriorating health in 1917 he had rallied considerably and was showing signs of a full recovery before the same sinister visitors called on him just before his “heart attack” of January 20th.

Poisoned or not, Boudet was interred beside his brother Edmond and on the stone which covers them both is the carved “book” with its cryptic inscription. It may be simply the Greek word for fish (the early Christian acrostic); it could be a clue to pages 310 and 311 of Boudet's book; or it might mean something entirely different but of equally mysterious significance.

Maurice Guinguand is reported to have given an account of a local lawyer's, or notary's, visit to Saunière in 1884, or 1885. This man asked for the priest's help in translating certain Latin documents connected with the ownership of land once belonging to Paul Urbain de Fleury, who had died in the 1850's. By a very odd coincidence, a few months later, this notary died as the result of a shooting accident which took place while he was in Saunière's company.

There have been several other sinister events — in and around Rennes-le-Château — before, during and after Saunière's time.

Monge and Montroux

On May 27th, 1732, Abbé Bernard Monge, the incumbent at Niort-de-Saux, was found by the gate of his presbytery garden with a fractured skull. The man responsible was François de Montroux, the legal guardian of young Marie de Nègre d'Ables, who was later to marry François d'Hautpoul, Lord of Blanchefort, and eventually, as his widow, to lie beneath one of the strangest tombstones ever carved.

Montroux was banished, but during his absence he lent François d'Hautpoul the money to buy the late Abbé Monge's former presbytery. The whole discreditable episode is vaguely reminiscent of Ahab, Jezebel and Naboth's vineyard.

The Murder of Gèlis – Sauniere again?

Jean-Antoine-Maurice Gélis was born on April 1st, 1827 at Villesequelande in the Aude, and was appointed as the Priest of Coustaussa near Rennes-le-Château in 1857. By 1897, when he was in his seventieth year, he had become a timid, suspicious old recluse. He would open the sturdy door of his presbytery only to his niece when she brought his meals and clean laundry. He took the food and clothes indoors while she waited on the step until he had re-secured the door. Despite these elaborate precautions, the old man was brutally murdered during the Eve of All Saints' Day, 1897. Whoever he had admitted — for there were no signs of a forced entry — had struck him first with the heavy old nineteenth century fire tongs and then — as the old man had struggled towards the window to attract attention and shout for help — with an axe.

The local paper, Courrier de l'Aude reported fourteen grisly wounds to the head and multiple skull fractures. The floor, walls and ceiling were splashed with blood. Three great pools of it lay on the floor — but the murderer had left neither hand nor foot print anywhere. Despite the wild savagery of the attack, Gélis's body had been laid out reverently with the hands across the chest. There was a considerable quantity of cash lying quite conspicuously about the house — none of that had been taken, but the presbytery had been ransacked.

Whoever had murdered the old priest had been desperate to find something. Had he found it? According to the account in the Courrier de l'Aude masked men had broken in and searched the presbytery a few years previously. Perhaps that was why old Gélis had been so cautious?

One grim theory even points the finger of suspicion towards Saunière. Suppose that Boudet and Saunière in the process of working out their decodings of the cryptic parchments had passed a document or two to Gélis to decipher. Suppose further that it had contained just enough information to arouse his curiosity and suspicion and that he had stubbornly refused to return it until the other two told him more. It would never have crossed the old man's mind that a brother priest would raise a hand against him — but Saunière was no ordinary priest. Perhaps, as we have already hinted, he had never felt any genuine vocation, that he had endured the long years of boredom and deprivation in the seminary simply to become the Priest of Rennes-le-Château in order to be in the most advantageous place to look for the legendary treasure?

What emerges from a long, close study of Bérenger Saunière is a picture of a man with great determination and stamina; a man of remarkable physical and mental strength; a great individualist, verging on the eccentric; a proud, impulsive and energetic man, who will not take no for an answer and who, in his prime, is capable of successfully defying both civil and ecclesiastical authorities; a libidinous and passionate man whose emotional needs encompass the devoted Marie Dénarnaud, the flamboyantly exciting Emma Calvé…and several others. Saunière is not a man to tangle with unless your own muscle, stamina and ruthless aggression are at least the equal of his. Querulous old Gél is came nowhere near playing in the same league as Saunière. To butcher a man in a moment of wild anger and then solemnly and reverently lay out his corpse is not characteristic of any ordinary murderer.

Now tie in the rumours of Saunière's deathbed confessiosn and the traumatic effect it had on Rivière. Did Saunière murmur something like this?

“Father…I have sinned…I shot and killed a notary…I also struck down helpless old Father Gélis…” Did Rivière turn pale with shocked revulsion to think that hands which had committed at least two murders had celebrated Mass for years afterwards as though nothing untoward had ever happened? And was that all that Saunière confessed to? Was there any mention of obscene black magic? Of the Convocation of Venus? Of dark ceremonies involving sexual rituals with Marie or Emma Calvé? If Rivière's mind was strong enough and resilient enough to absorb all that, did Saunière say even more? “…I found and systematically robbed the ancient tombs of Merovingian Kings and nobles…I passed through a secret doorway into a forbidden realm…Rivière, my friend, what you think of as reality is not reality at all…” The dying Saunière draws his last weak breath and subsides into silence.

Gèrard de Sède

Gérard de Sède, author of Le Trésor Maudit de Rennes-le-Château, tells of his 1963 meeting with a scholarly old priest called Joseph Courtauly, who was in charge of the Parrish of Villarzel-du-Razès. Like the unfortunate Abbé Gélis of Coustaussa, the aged Courtauly had become very suspicious in his old age. He even refused to admit his Vicar-General on one occasion. Gérard de Sède was told by Courtauly that in 1908, when he was eighteen, he had spent two months as Saunière's guest in Rennes-le-Château. He had even been allowed to assist with some of the painting in the church, but Saunière had been insistent about the finest details of the work. Courtauly had also met Boudet whom he regarded as an amazing character. He recalled that Boudet had had trouble with the Bishop in 1914 and that — according to Courtauly's account — Boudet's books had been burnt in front of him. These comprised not only the residual copies of La Vraie Langue Celtique but also a work entitled Lazarus. (The Biblical Lazarus was the brother of Martha and Mary of Bethany, who might have been the same woman as Mary Magdalen. It was this same Biblical Lazarus whom Jesus raised from the tomb.) Courtauly recalled that Abbé Rescanière, the diocesan missionary, had been appointed to Rennes-les-Bains in May of 1914. Not surprisingly, he too had become very interested in the Boudet-Saunière mystery; but in the early hours of the morning of February 1st, 1915, two mysterious visitors arrived…Father Rescanière was found dead…his visitors were never traced.

According to Gérard de Sède, the old priest then showed him a superb collection of Merovingian and Visigothic gold coins which he said Saunière had given to him. Courtauly died in 1964; whatever else he might have been able to disclose about the Rennes mystery died with him.

The 1956 Corpses

In March or April of 1956, M. Descadeillas, Dr. Malacan, M. Brunon (an optician), and M. Despeyronat were excavating part of Saunière's garden when they exhumed three decaying corpses, all male and aged between thirty and forty. Strips of flesh, hair and even the recognisable remains of a moustache still clung to the skeletons. All three had been shot. The police were called. An inquest was opened. No conclusions were ever reached.

Were they from World War II? World War I? Or did those three corpses pay secret, silent tribute to Saunière's strength, speed and prowess with a gun? Had they been members of whatever strange, underground organisation had sent “visitors” to silence Gélis, Rescanière, Boudet and eventually — when he was no longer at his peak — the redoubtable Saunière himself?

Could they even have been three members of Count Taafe's Austro-Hungarian Habsburg secret police intent on dealing with Saunière and Marie as they had already dealt with Rudolf and Maria Vetsera? If so they had fatally underestimated their intended victims: from all that we can hypothesize about the reckless and colourful Warrior Priest of Rennes-le-Château, Saunière might almost have been the last of the Templars; first to attack and last to retreat.

Noël Corbu and Abbé Boyer

Marie Dénarnaud made over the estate to M. Noël Corbu who treated the old lady with great courtesy, consideration and kindness in her declining years. If anyone heard anything at all of her incoherent dying whispers on January 29th, 1953, it was Noël Corbu. On May 20th, 1968, M. Corbu himself was killed in a horrendous car crash on the road between Castel-naudary and Carcassonne. Less than a month later, Abbé Boyer, Vicar General in the Carcassonne Diocese, another investigator who was keenly interested in the Rennes affair, narrowly escaped the same fate when his car crashed near the Devil's Bridge on the Carcassonne road. Although severely injured, he recovered.

Abbé Mazières

Abbé Maurice-René Mazières was the Parish Priest of Villesequelande near Carcassonne when Gérard de Sède was carrying out his research. Father Mazières, who had been a lawyer before taking Holy Orders, was a very sensible and level headed man. He told de Sède: “This Rennes affair is very gripping, but I must warn you…it is also dangerous…”

Abbé Duvilla and the Couiza War Memorial

Another very interesting priest was Abbé Duvilla of Couiza, who went to that parish in 1917—the same year that Bérenger Saunière died. Duvilla had once been a lecturer at the Grand Seminary and was a man of formid-able scholarship. He had also been the Curé of Axat where he had often been visited by Boudet and by Johann of Habsburg. Johann had apparently been in the habit of lodging with Boudet's sister-in-law whenever he came to the village.

Duvilla commissioned a sculptor named Giscard to create a war memorial for him to go in his church at Couiza. Incidentally, this Giscard was the same artist who had made the fourteen Stations of the Cross for Saunière for his Church of St. Mary Magdalen at Rennes. This very strange war memorial shows a dead or dying soldier with his right knee uncovered, his left hand over his heart, and his right hand still holding his rifle. The right index finger points towards — and is almost touching — a strange round stone. The figure of Christ on the cross carved in the centre of this memorial is exchanging a long, meaningful look with the dying soldier. An angel on the right of the tableau holds out a crown to the fallen warrior. According to Gérard de Sède, the symbolism in this unusual memorial would be exactly right for a Scottish Freemason who had achieved the rank of Chevalier in the Order of the Rose-Croix. If de Sède is right, then the memorial does not only honour the heroes of Couiza who died in World War 1: it commemorates one hero in particular — Bérenger Saunière, Warrior Priest of Rennes-le-Château and Chevalier of the Rose-Croix — who fell in 1917.