VIII.   REFLECTIONS ON RENNES-LE-CHATEAU (RLC)

 

La vérité naît de la contradiction et du croisement des points de vue divers.

 

Prof. Pierre Bayle (1647-1706)

 

Truth is born of contradiction and the intersection of different points of view.

 

Epilogue

 

If the mystery of RLC remains unsolved and is known only to a few people, these people will never publish it. Nor is it possible to approach it with reliable elements. We're dealing here with a gigantic jigsaw puzzle, of which we're missing numerous pieces, and of which we don't even have the final image that their final arrangement would reproduce.

 

The only tool at our disposal to get a glimpse of what it's all about is the logical analysis of a few facts. From them, we can construct a working hypothesis that will lift a tiny corner of the immense veil that covers the whole RLC affair.

 

Since it's always more interesting to have an extremely restricted view than no view at all, let's leave it to a humble candle to illuminate our darkness in place of the saving rays of our star.

 

The key characters in the RLC enigma all come from aristocratic backgrounds, from very old families who have the unique privilege of having survived the indomitable march of time. In their archives, they have preserved deeds, relics, documents and memories of events that were unknown, unedited or kept secret.

 

Some of these secrets have been divulged, some have not yet, and some may never be. What may be divulged sparingly, from scholar to scholar, from initiated to initiated, will be by means of signs, codes and encrypted messages, illegible and incomprehensible to ordinary mortals. Or, they will be divulged in bulk, as in the case of the Rennes-le-Château mystery by the writings of Plantard, de Sède and de Chérisey, only to be subsequently labelled as fantasies and forgeries.

 

But the seed to make people think will have been sown. Hopefully, it will germinate in people's minds, making them aware of something “they hadn't thought of”. The awakening must be gentle. A surge of truth would be counter-productive for most of humanity. Qui va piano va sano.

 

It's very interesting and instructive to note that all the families involved in the RLC affair are all connected in one way or another. From ancient times to the present day. It's always the same names we come across. We find few, if any, families of proletarians sheltered by days of hard, underpaid labour, ignorant by necessity or by complacency, with practically non-existent education, living in wretched conditions, exposed to all the diseases of the times. For most of them, death, that shameful absurdity, that insult to divine greatness, is often welcomed as liberating, saving.

 

On the contrary, all the families involved in the RLC affair were either prelates or heirs of aristocratic families, Heirs of Emperors, Kings, Archdukes, Marquis, Counts and Barons, whose names resounded in the ether for centuries, even millennia. What must we conclude from this situation? How then can we understand or explain the alleged fraudulent actions of the protagonists? Isn't there more going on here than meets the eye?

 

Here follows a list of the families directly involved:

 

The Empress Zita de Habsburg-Lorraine, princess of Bourbon-Parme, The Archduchess Maria Theresa of Austria-Este, from the Imperial house of the Habsburg (the Countess of Chambord [potential future Queen of France]), The Archduke Johan Salvator von Habsburg, Baron von Brandhof and Comte de Méran, also called “Monsieur Orth” or “Monsieur Guillaume”, The Count of Chambord, (the potential future King Henri V of France, of the Bourbon Branch) who refused the throne of France, The Aragon, The Marquis de Blanchefort, The Marquis Chefdebien, The Marquise de Nègre d’Ables, The de Hautpoul, The Marquis de Chérisey, The Labouisse-Rochefort, The de Sède, The Plantard de Saint Clair, The de Barcelone (future kings of Aragon), The Bayles (Bales), The Bels, The Belle, The de Blanchefort, The Borrell, The de Castille, The de Chaumeil, The de Gellone, The de Charroux, The du Puy de Vatan, The Fouquet, The de Goth, The de Joyeuse, The de Marquefave, The Perillos, The Poussins, The Trencavel, The Urgell, The de Voisin.

 

And the prélats : Mgr. Roullet de la Bouillerie, Mgr. Billard, Mgr. Beuvain de Beauséjour. Bigou, Boudet, Gélis, Rivière, Sarda, Saunière.

 

What are we forced to conclude from this situation? How can we understand or explain the allegedly fraudulent actions of the protagonists? Isn't there more going on here than meets the eye?

 

When people talk about the mystery of the treasure of Rennes-le-Château, they mean the "something" that Abbé Bérenger Saunière is said to have discovered, and which made him immensely rich.

 

Some people, however, confuse what this abbot is said to have found with "all" the other treasures buried either in RLC or in the surrounding area. This amalgam is evidently a big mistake. Abbé Saunière did indeed discover "one" of the treasures of RLC, one of the secrets, but certainly not all of them. That said, we can now frame the events surrounding his discovery, although the mystery remains as to what he actually discovered.

 

Since events clearly did happen at RLC, they are therefore to be considered as “facts”. And we know that while theories can fade in the face of facts, the opposite is never the case. This “something” that Saunière discovered was therefore “one” of the treasures hidden at RLC and/or in the surrounding area, but not two, three or four.

 

We have no idea what the essence of the treasure might have been. Some think it was a material treasure, while others believe it was a spiritual one, in the form of documents. Still others see it as both.

 

Analyzing the invoices, kept by Noel Corbus, the man wo bought the estate from Marie Denarnaud, the Bérenger’s maid, relating to the construction works undertaken by the Abbot, we know that the total expenditure for the renovation of the church, including works on the presbytery and cemetery, costed, with inflation, some 4.5 million Euros as of 2019. The construction of Saunière's estate that included the Tour Magdala and Villa Bethania (and the purchases of land) would cost over 10 million euros today.

 

If the abbot discovered gold, it was totally out of question for him to deposit it in France, this mainly to the “we are out to get you” attitude of the republicans against the Church. The priest, traditionally clothed in black, were called “les corbeaux” or “the crows” and were not longer welcomed. His only alternative was to have its secrets discretely carried out of France. Was it to Budapest, to the central bank of the Habsburg dynasty?

 

Or did the treasure consist only of compromising documents of Merovingian origin, Visigothic (brought back from sacked and pillaged Rome in 410, by the Visigoth, and including what the Romans had themselves looted from Solomon's Temple), relating to the Church of Rome, Cathar, Templar or involving the House of Habsburg or the House of France? Speculations are still open and free.

 

However, we know that several mysteries of the history of western Europe, and some of its lost treasures, merged at RLC. This place is unique in the world. The text above the church door in RLC - Terribilis locus iste - could be applied to the hamlet of Rennes-le-Château itself or its unique geological specificities as well, but with the word “terribilis” in its secondary sense of: fabulous, magnificent (this girl is terrible).

 

First conclusion

 

No one knows what treasure Saunière uncovered, and we will probably never know it, but what everyone does know is that the Habsburgs, the House of France and the Vatican were astonishingly preoccupied by it. This would not have been the case had the treasure in question been only gold, silver, jewelry or concerned the Cathars, the Knights Templar or the Crown of Aragon matters.

 

Now let's analyze, by process of elimination, to piece together the puzzle based on the reliable data (the facts) in our possession.

 

Among the countless possible treasures buried in and around Rennes-le-Chateau, one concerned with absolute certainty to the Marquise Marie de Nègre d'Ables, d'Hautpoul, d’Auxillon et de Blanchefort (°1714 - †1781), Dame du Château de Rennes-le-Château.

 

The whole affair of RLC and Bérenger Saunière starts with her and with her confessor, the abbé Antoine Bigou (°1719 - †1794). He succeeded in 1774 his Uncle Jean Bigou as priest of RLC.

 

We know that in 1732, Marie de Nègre d'Ables, marquise d’Hautpoul married François d'Hautpoul-Rennes, the last lord of RLC, a descendant of the old Blanchefort lineage. The couple had three daughters: the third, Gabrielle d'Hautpoul de Blanchefort, married the Marquis Paul François Vincent de Fleury. A dispute arose among the daughters regarding the succession of their parents, with the eldest, Elisabeth, refusing to hand over certain documents deemed "very dangerous" to the others.

 

For the record: during a private visit to the Hautpoul castle in Rennes-le-Château, I photographed the bed of the Marquise Marie, in which she is said to have slept until her death.

 

On the headboard is displayed a marquis’ coronet. The coat of arms on the left, bearing a six-pointed star, has nothing to do with Judaism, contrary to what was stated by Madame Stéphanie, the castle guide in October 2025.

 

This motif is, in fact, locally associated with the lineage of Nègre d’Ablès/Blanchefort. Having been informed of my research, I trust she will henceforth convey the correct version of this heraldic emblem to future visitors.

 

The one on the right is that of the Hautpoul family, former lords of Rennes-le-Château. It should be noted that some local decorations depict only three hens, thus simplifying the original coat of arms which, in its complete form, features six hens arranged 3-2-1.

 

The situation degenerated to such an extent that Marie de Nègre d'Ables, no longer able to get along with her daughters, her heirs, decided to weed them out and entrusted her family fortune and archives to abbé Antoine Bigou, specifying that some must remain secret. The abbé, parish priest of Rennes-le-Château, was her chaplain, confidant and confessor. He obviously knew the contents of these papers but was duty-bound (sic) to keep them secret.

 

Unfortunately, as the French Revolution and its anti-clerical attitude became increasingly dangerous, all the movable and immovable properties of ecclesiastics were systematically confiscated, the Abbé Bigou was forced into exile 12 years later. He is said to have decided to go to Sabadel, a place in Spain just across the Pyrenean Mountain chain, today encompassed into the city of Barcelona, rejoining some other priests.

 

A rather recent discovery, dated early 2009, made by a French researcher found Bigou’s death certificate in an ancient church register of Collioure, a small Catalan village some 28 km south of Perpignan and only 26 km of the today’s Spanish border between Cerbère, a small coastal town of the oriental Pyrenees (F) and Portbou (SP).

 

According to the register record, the said priest died on 21^st March 1794, at the age of 75 years old and was buried in the Collioure parish cemetery. Collioure has been occupied by the Spanish until the “Siege of Collioure”, that lasted from the 6^th to the 29^th of May 1794, when it was reattached to France. I could not verify this allegation.

 

But did the priest not find himself, despite himself, at the head of a small fortune and, above all, in possession of documents of the utmost importance, stamped secret? What to do with them?

 

Aged about 65, and no longer in good health, how could he pass the records to a future successor? He knows that if he leaves the country for Spain, he won't be able to take any of the deposits under his responsibility with him and has the right intuition that he'll never see his parish again.

 

The abbé decided to encode the tomb of the Marquise Marie de Nègre d'Ables with certain phrase from the Gospels, in Latin. By the way they were worded, they were bound to attract the attention of a new parish priest, lost somewhere in the future. He counted on providence that one day, his messages and caches would be discovered and understood.

 

It was Abbé Saunière who, a century later, came across the inscriptions and caches. He (or they) would decipher them and discover “something” worth a fortune.

 

But how did Saunière know, in the first place, there was something hidden at RLC? The answer is: from his colleague at Rennes-le-Bains, the Abbé André Boudet and probably also the Abbé Gélis de Coustaussa. And how did they know?

 

It is well known in certain authorized circles, that two great families were very interested and involved in the research carried out at Rennes-le-Château. These were the Habsburg imperial dynasty and the French royal dynasty. As we have seen earlier in this Essay, some other ancient dynasties were involved as well, without forgetting to mention, trailing behind the very oldest families linked, in one way or the other, to the Merovingian dynasty.

 

The Austrian imperial family and the French royal family knew that there was something that absolutely had to be found. But finding what? Documents relating to the legitimacy of the Habsburgs? To the credibility of the Roman Catholic dogma? Or both? Because one should not forget that the Habsburgs functioned discreetly as ambassadors and protectors of the Church of Rome.

 

This aspect would later explain the exceptional recognition, unprecedented in the Church history, given by Pope John Paul II to Charles of Habsburg (1887-1922), the last emperor of Austria and last king of Hungary. He beatified him on October 3, 2004, only 82 years after his death. Recognition? What for?

 

As the Habsburgs were active in the Rennes-le-Château affair, could there be a link between the mysteries of this little hamlet and the Vatican? Was it a matter of finding clues, caches, tombs, crypts, harboring material or historical treasures in the form of writings? And if they were ever discovered, who would keep them secret and safe?

 

To carry out these searches on the RLC site, the sponsors needed someone reliable, who wouldn't arouse suspicion, who had to live in the hamlet, and would be able to act secretly and at will. To find such a person was an almost impossible task to achieve.

 

But, as is often the case, an extraordinary set of circumstances intervened. Unless it was cleverly concocted by members of a secret organization that some claim to be the "Priory of Sion". Whatever its name, it's real and seems perfectly organized.

 

Its players, orbiting in the highest spheres of society, included, as well, priests from the hamlets around Rennes-le-Château. Such as Antoine Bigou, Henri Boudet, Antoine Gelis, the Bishop de Carcassonne, Mgr Arsènes Billard, and even other no less emblematic places, such as Bugarach, Perillos, etc.

 

The Marquis François-Marie de Chefdebien-Zagarriga (°1834- †1887), president of the royalist committees of Languedoc-Roussillon, was a close friend of the family of the Count Henry-Charle-Ferdinand d'Artois, Duke of Bordeaux and better known as the Comte de Chambord (1820- †1883).

 

The Marquis was, in this part of south of France, the central figure of the nobility resistance to the republic anti-clerical and anti-nobility actions.

 

Marie Thérèse of Austria-Este, called countess, although her title is Archduchess, was the widow of the Count de Chambord, heir to the French throne. She was the niece of the Austrian Emperor. Her father was the Archduke of Austria, Franz IV, of the Imperial House of Habsburg.

The Comte de Chambord was the son of Charles Ferdinand d'Artois and Marie Caroline de Bourbon-Sicily. He would have restored the monarchy to him in 1873, and would have been the King of France, Henry IV, and sole heir to the eldest branch of the Bourbons (son of the Duc de Berry). Had he not stubbornly refused to accept the tricolor flag as the national emblem and be so hostile toward the principles of the Revolution.

 

In order to find this “something very important”, the “interested parties” were looking for a man they could absolutely trust. At the time when the Marquis Chefdebien was entrusted with this arduous mission, it just so happened that Bérenger Saunière's brother was the tutor of his children.

 

Through a combination of circumstances, obviously due to chance, the parish priest Bérenger Saunière found himself detached to the seminary in Narbonne, as a tutor, for a period of 6 months. One of the consequences of his anti-republican speeches and opinions. The Narbonne’s seminary is only an hour's drive from the Château de Chefdebien, where Bérenger’s brother Alfred is staying. The meeting was therefore pre-programmed.

 

Alfred Saunière, informed by the Marquis that he was looking for someone he could trust at RLC, told him that the right man for the job could very well be his brother. He's young, 33 years old, a royalist, strong, intelligent, well-educated and above suspicion.

 

In spite of himself, he happens to be the new parish priest of RLC, which gives him complete freedom of movement. As a parish priest, he also enjoys the unique privilege, through the confession of his flock, of being kept abreast of the slightest rumors spreading through the hamlet. And the icing on the cake is that he is in urgent need of the funds needed to restore his church, which is in ruin and threatening to collapse.

 

The restoration of the church will be the ideal alibi for discreetly opening breaches, demolishing walls, plastering partitions, building screen walls, violating graves in the cemetery, moving graves, etc., without suspicion. All these actions, made possible by the very plausible and legal cover of restoration, will enable in-depth research to be carried out, without any suspicion, in order to uncover clues, caches, or even treasures.

 

Although Saunière was completely unaware of the plot being hatched without his knowledge, he felt very strongly, especially following the insinuations of the priest of Rennes-les-Bains, Abbé Bigou, that there was something to be found at RLC. He's a seminarian, which corresponds to 6 years of higher education. He is a well-educated man and knows the rich history of his region.

 

Upon departing the seminar in Narbonne, Bérenger Saunière returned to his parish, having received 3,000 francs-gold from the Countess de Chambord. What was the rationale behind the countess’ decision to provide him with such a substantial financial gift? Why was he, the hitherto unknown parish priest from an equally obscure hamlet, the recipient of such a substantial financial gift?

 

Prior to undertaking a more detailed examination of this Countess (sic), it is essential to acknowledge the relationship between this figure and the private physician of her family (the royal family), Dr. Carrière. Born in Limoux, he was also a native of the region and is presumed to have been a close associate of RLC affaire, as this individual was the nephew of the priest Lasserre. This priest was revealed to be a friend of Abbé Henri Boudet, who, as has been previously established, was the mentor of Bérenger Saunière.

 

I've already written a few paragraphs about the countess, earlier in this essay, as I did about the Archduke of Austria, the man who regularly visited Saunière, making annual payments of some thousand francs-or (francs-gold). But let's get closer to them and find out who knew what!

 

We know that the Marquis, Chefdebien, close to the Count of Chambord whose wife is a Habsburg, knew that there's something secret at Rennes-le-Château. But, how did the Marquis know, since it was a secret? It was the Count de Chambord who told him.

 

New question: how did the Comte de Chambord know? Quite simply, by closing “the circle of initiates”. The Comte de Chambord's tutor, when he held the title of Duke of Bordeaux, at the age of about 15, was none other than General Armand, Marquis d’Hautpoul de Blanchefort. He was the nephew of Marie de Nègre d’Ables, sometimes also called Marie de Blanchefort. It was he who recounted what had happened in RLC. during the Revolution, some 55 years ago.

 

Then the Count de Chambord, on a fine summer's night, probably suffering from insomnia, and short of better ideas, told his wife, the Countess de Chambord, who, let's not forget, is a Habsburg, about the secret. Not all French people think only of trifles! As these royalist families often met, pursued by the republicans, it was then either the Comte de Chambord or his wife who informed whom it might concern, but with certainty the Marquis Chefdebien.

 

It is noteworthy that within the entourage of the Comte de Chambord we find the Marquis de Chérisey, forebear of the later Chérisey who would be linked with Pierre VI Plantard, a lineage already documented in the twelfth century through Jean de Plantard and his wife Idoine de Gisors, as well as Gérard de Sède (Géraud-Marie), Baron de Liéoux.

 

From there, insiders in orbit, including the bishop of Carcassonne Monseigneur Billard and the abbots, were in turn informed.

 

In 1828, the Count of Chambord’s grandfather, who had become king in 1824 under the name of Charles X, entrusted his education to Baron de Damas. Years later, at the age of 13, it was the Duke de Basas (linked to the family of the Marquis de Chérisey) who, responsible for the education of the future Henry V, had placed him in the hands of a man named Hautpoul de Blanchefort. The latest, as we have seen earlier, was a member of the family of Marie de Nègre d’Ables, Dame de Hautpoul de Blanchefort, of Rennes-le-Château. She was the one who held the secrets and confided them to her confessor, the future fugitive Abbé Bigou.

 

When Alfred Saunière arrived at the Marquis’ castle, it's the Marquis who doesn't tell him anything about the secret - he probably didn't know anything about it either - but informs him that there's something to be found in RLC, and that he's looking for someone of great confidence to discreetly begin a search there.

 

It's quite astonishing that a "very poor" parish priest in the Aude region had, among his financial documents, pre-printed envelopes on the letterhead of the central bank of the emperors of the Austro-Hungarian empire, the Fritz Dörge Bank, 4 Kossuth-lajos in Budapest.

 

Conclusion: whatever the abbé Bérenger Saunière discovered in Rennes-le-Château, it had something to do with the Habsburg, the Bourbons, and the Vatican because of the Habsburg involvement in the Church's matters.

 

Saunière discovery concerns, so, only a substantial part of all the treasures hidden in RLC and the area.

 

Second conclusion

 

Another hypothesis is that the Marquise Marie de Nêgre d'Ables, d’Hautpoul de Blanchefort, was in possession of highly secret Templar documents. The documents would have rested for centuries in the château's family archives. New question: How did they get there?

 

The answer could be as follows: The 6^th Grand Master of the Order of the Temple of Jerusalem (the Knights Templar), succeeding Mgr. André de Montbard and preceding Mgr. Eudes de St. Amand, was none other than Seigneur Bertrand de Blanchefort (also Blanquefort) (°1109 - †1169), the great reformer of the Order, a relative of the Blanquefort of Rennes-le-Château.

 

And that's not all. A certain Fra. Hugues de Blanquefort (Blanchefort) happened to be a Grand Master (1150) of the Priory of Sion, succeeding Fra. Evrard de Barres and preceding Fra. Bernard de Tremblay. These are “facts”.

 

Before continuing, we should also point out that in 1108, Pierre Raymond de Blanchefort received an order from Count Bertrand de Toulouse (also Bertrand de Tripoli) (*abt 1065 - †1112), Marquis of Gothie and Provence and Duke of Narbonne from 1096 to 1108, to bring a relic back to France. It was the iron piece from the lance that pierced Christ's side. It was to be found in the church of Antioch.

 

The relic was eventually brought to the safety of Montségur castle. However, during the siege by Simon de Monfort's troops, the castle finally surrendered, and four Cathars escaped over the cliff at night, carrying presumably some Cathar secrets and some relics to the d'Hautpoul family in RLC.

 

The names of three of them are known with certainty: Aicart, Hugon and Peytavi. Of the fourth we have no information.

 

Rumor has it that these men went to the Sabart cave to recover something very important. This cave is in the commune of Tarascon-sur-Ariège, in the opposite direction to RLC and the Hautpoul-Blanchefort castle.

 

Going to the cave would have meant a detour of 38 km. Such a detour, before heading back to RLC, would have meant travelling 78 km through enemy territory. And this at the height of the Crusade against the Cathars, in the heart of a region infested with Simon de Monfort's soldiers, and carrying the Cathar secret(s), even if only documents. The risk would have been so enormous that I'm inclined not to believe it.

 

That the cave in question preserved some secrets is almost self-evident. Many of the region's caves were known as hiding places, whether for Cathars, Templars or anything to do with the secret treasures of Rennes-le-Château. They had to be hidden somewhere, somewhere where they would be safe. But for a 38 km detour to be considered, in such a dangerous situation, seems unreasonable to me.

 

The 38 km route winds through the valleys of the Saint Barthelemy massif (2348 m), which I know very well having climbed it on the 9^th of July, 2013. The shortest route, but also the most arduous, is over the mountain. You need to be in super great shape to cover 19 km, as the crow flies, in mid-range mountains. I don't think it's possible to accomplish such a physical feat after ten months of siege and the stifling conditions that accompany it.

 

Templar commanderies existed throughout the Cathar country. We know that they were all destroyed during the roundup ordered by Philip the Fair, with the complicity of the Pope of Avignon, Clement V. All but one was destroyed, that of ”Le Bézu”. Its ruins are exactly 6.23 km (direct line) from Rennes-le-Château, and just 400 m as the crow flies from the rural hamlet below called “A Tiplie” - “Les Tipliés” for “Les Templiers”. Coincidence ?

 

And yet another important clue. The name of Pope Clement V, the man behind the scheme to arrest the Knights Templar, was Raymond Bertrand de Goth. Guess now what was the name of the commander, since 1286 of the Templar commanderie at "Le Bézu"? Yes, “de Goth”. He belonged to the same family as the pope.

 

If this commanderie, transformed around this time by Templars from Mas-Deu, a Catalan commanderie, following a donation by Pierre de Voisins, the lord of Rennes-le-Château, and the Templars of Bézu, was spared on 13^th October, 1307, was it because RLC depended not on the King of France, but on the Count of Barcelona? But why, then, were the others attacked and destroyed? Or was it by express order of the Pope, to spare a member of his family and his men?

 

The “Bels” family had unavoidably contact with the “de Voisins” family, because they found themselves as lawmen at the court of the Counts of Barcelona for centuries, and this, since before the X^th century. (Case of Olesa, Charta from the Count of Flanders, etc.).

 

It's worth noting that Pierre de Voisins had been Simon de Montfort's lieutenant... Did he have any secret documents relating to the Cathars he was supposed to have hunted down? Were these documents hidden in his castle in RLC?

 

But now comes the apotheosis. The fireworks of wild coincidence. Pope Clement V's mother was none other than a Dame “de Blanchefort”! And here we are with two Bertrand on our backs: Bertrand de Goth and Bertrand de Blanchefort. The Dame “de Blanchefort” named her son, the future pope, Bernard, in memory of Bernard de Blanchefort, the most prestigious Grand Master of the Templars from her lineage and illustrious member of her family.

 

These are the kinds of details that are often ignored by the public or simply downplayed. Ask an American citizen the names of the parents of their first president, George Washington (°1732 - †1799), and chances are they won’t know. Their names were Augustine Washington and Mary Ball.

 

Mary Ball’s father, Joseph Ball (c.1649-1711), was an Englishman from Essex County, England, who emigrated to Virginia during the 17th century.

 

As we have pointed out throughout this essay, the “Ball” families of England, as well as those from the Scottish border, are of Flemish origin. The name “Ball” is merely a local phonetic variant, among many others, of the original surnames Bels, Belle, or Balliol.

 

The inauguration of the Church of Mary Magdalene was attended by Monsieur Guillaume, also known as M. Orth and Archduke Johan Salvator von Habsburg, Baron von Brandhof and Comte de Méran (°1852 † abt. 1890), in his identity, and a senior French Army officer representing Mgr. Henry, Head of the House of France. The Bishop of Carcassonne, Mgr. François-Alexandre-Léonard de Beauséjour and other high-level personalities also attended the event.

 

What must you do, or better said, what must you offer to have the honor to welcome the visit of an heir of an Imperial House, of a Superior Officer representing the King of France and of a Bishop? And this, in a lost village, lost in the desertic Corbières region, at the even more desertic region at the foothills of the Pyrenean Mountain chain?

 

What had Rennes-le-Château, with only 63 inhabitants in 1981, to offer to the future President of the France's Republic, Mr. Francois Mitterrand to have him to visit "officially" the site and its Church in March of that year? Certainly not to get some voters voices.

 

On the picture, we see the president facing the devil “Asmodeus” and carefully examining the translation of the Latin text into French: “Par ce signe tu le vaincras” or “By this sign you will conquer him”.

 

One should remember that the pyramid in front of The Louvre Museum was his idea and was built under his presidential mandate. This leads us to conclude that the president's visit to RLC is not a one-off, but rather a logical consequence of an interest in certain things…

As we have seen shortly earlier, the inauguration of the Marie-Madeleine church took place on 6th June 1897, in the presence of Archduke Johan Salvator von Habsburg, Baron von Brandhof and Comte de Méran, under the assumed identity of Mr. Guillaume or Mr. Orth. These substitutions of identity served three main purposes:

 

1. To protect heirs.
2. To divert attention from an imperial or royal lineage.
3. To avoid political or religious conflicts.

 

It should be noted that this person did not go unnoticed at RLC nor in the region. His aristocratic allure and his great presence made the locals call him the “Stranger”. The substantive “presence” is better rendered in German by the word “Stattlichkeit” or even better by the French word “prestance”.

 

His impeccable high-level French was also far too high for the locals, but it was his German accent that inevitably betrayed his origin, albeit without identifying him. Police verification of Mr. Guillaume's identity revealed that he was indeed a close relative of the Austrian emperor.

 

Zita de Bourbon-Parme (°1892 - †1989), Princess of Parma, became, through her marriage to Emperor Charles I of Habsburg-Lorraine, Empress of Austria, Queen of Hungary and of Bohemia.

 

Otto of Habsburg-Lorraine (°1912 - †2011), their eldest son, became Head of the Imperial House. Zita, like most Habsburgs, was considered God's faithful servant. Which says a lot about Habsburg-Vatican ties.

 

What is interesting for us is that the Empress Zita stayed a while in Carcassonne and visited the small city of Limoux, some 20 km southward. Limoux is only 20 km away from Rennes-le-Château.

 

It’s almost certain, though we have no proof, that Zita also visited RLC incognito. Why would an empress travel from Vienna, or Budapest, to visit the insignificant town of Limoux (4000 km up and down), staying in the city of Carcassonne, the only place in the region with a hotel worthy of hosting her? And what was she doing in Limoux? Without Rennes-le-Château, the whole trip makes absolutely no sense.

 

These representatives of the highest level of society did not come to inaugurate prestigious buildings such as those found in Versailles, Vienna or Budapest. Nor were they there to honour a Cardinal, a Bishop or an Apostolic Pronotary. These people travelled to inaugurate an insignificant small church, just a little bigger than a chapel, situated in a remote village isolated from the rest of the world in the Corbières region of the south of France.

 

The purpose of the visit was to honor a country parish priest who was known to have engaged in inappropriate physical contact with his housekeeper, who was under the canonical age prescribed by the Church, and who was reported by local authorities for desecrating and vandalizing several graves at night in the cemetery of his church. What conclusion can be drawn from all of this?

 

It's worth pointing out that Abbé Bérenger isn't the only one to have discovered something at RLC. Historians have always wondered where the sudden and mysterious immense fortune of Louis XIV (°1638 †1715) came from.

 

During his reign, France experienced a revival unique in history. Money was as present as air. There's probably not a church, nor a state building in France that hasn't benefited from major royal gifts for restoration or embellishment. And we are deliberately not mentioning Versailles, the evidence is too overwhelming to even mention it.

 

The nobility also benefited enormously from the royal largesse. It was no longer the “Grand Dukes' Tour” but the “Grand King's Tour” ! Where did the money come from? Certainly not from the king's parents.

 

The king's father, Louis XIII married Anne of Austria, the Infanta of Spain. She was an Austrian archduchess of the House of Habsburgs. And here we go again, carried away in the dance, to the tunes « Nous n’irons plus au bois ».

At the time of the French king Louis XIV (°1638 - †1715), there was already some rumors concerning a huge treasure hidden in RLC. Nicolas Fouquet (°1615 - †1680), the Superintendent of Finances of the king (till 1661), had a brother called Louis Fouquet. One day Nicolas received a letter from him, dated Rome 17 April 1656, with a few strange sentences.

 

Louis and the painter Nicolas Poussin wanted to speak to him about an “immeasurable fortune, which will not be equalled on earth” and about “a great secret”. Poussin was the painter of the “Les Bergers d’Arcadie”. He was an initiate.

 

The treasure was most certainly different from the one that was discovered by Bérenger Sauniere. Was it the treasure of Blanche de Castille, (°1188 - †1252), the queen of France, by her wedding with king Louis VIII? In addition to that, she was the daughter of king Alphonsius VIII of Castille and of Aliénore of England (herself fa. of Aliénore d'Aquitaine and of the king of England Henry II Plantagenêt). She married in May 1200, the prince Louis de France, son and heir of King Philippe Auguste. She was the mother of the iconic King Saint Louis.

 

The treasure, which is thought to have been left behind, is believed to have consisted primarily of gold, jewels, and religious artefacts. It is reasonable to conclude that the value would have been considerable. If we were to assess its historical value at today's exchange rate, it would be worth several hundred million euros. Was this the source of the sudden affluence of King Louis XIV?

 

We know that Nicolas Fouquet, before his king Louis XIV (°1638 - †1715), became immensely wealthy. According to some historians, the sources of this wealth are two heritages, the first one coming from his father and the second one from his wife. However, such sudden wealth couldn't have been attributed to his ancestry.

 

The idea then arises that, as “Superintendant des finances”, Nicolas Fouquet may have dipped into the state's revenues. Did he really need to?

 

Admittedly, he took out “a few” small personal loans, but that will never explain his immense wealth, which came out of nowhere. Just as Bérenger's immense wealth couldn't have come from his pseudo “Mass traffics”. There was something else going on there.

 

Did Nicolas Fouquet take seriously the contents of the letter he received from his brother Louis and Nicolas Poussin, about a fabulous treasure? Everything leads us to believe that he did and found, at least, a part of the treasure.

 

Then Nicolas Fouquet made a huge mistake. He invited the king and his entourage to a feast in his domain of Vaux-le-Comte, located 50 km from Paris, halfway between Vincennes and Fontainebleau.  King Louis XIV, jealous by such an ostentatious display of wealth, by the brand-new castle, its interior decor, the beauty of the furniture, the magnificent park, and ignoring the source of Nicolas’s sudden huge financial fortune, had him arrested and put in jail for the rest of his life. The King thought that his Superintendent of Finances stole the money from the royal treasure.

 

But this was most probably an expedient, an excuse to get rid of him, of all his domains and fortune. The reality is that, shortly after this affair, the King himself became immensely rich. Versailles was planned and would be built using Vaux-le-Comte as a model. The Park would be inspired by the Vaux-le-Comte one, but the castle had to be even more prestigious than Nicolas's one.

 

Where did the king’s wealth suddenly come from? Did he get wind of Nicolas Fouquet's treasure? At that time circulated some rumors concerning a huge treasure hidden in RLC. Did Nicolas tell his secret in exchange for his life?

 

And was it also, as usual by chance, that shortly after Fouquet's conviction, Jean-Baptiste Colbert, one of king Louis XIV's key ministers, serving as Controller General of Finances and Secretary of State for the King's Household, ordered excavations in the region of RLC ?

 

Why was Nicolas’ private correspondences confiscated by the king, as well as Poussin's mysterious painting “Les Bergers d'Arcadie” ? As if a king had nothing else to decorate his bedroom with, he hung it in his own bedroom. In any case, the painting was kept there until it found its way to the Musée du Louvre in Paris. It would later become one of the cornerstones of the RLC enigma and the source of much interpretation and debate about its hidden messages.

 

Has this story something to do with Bérenger Sauniere? I do not think so because Fouquet’s story happened half a century before the birth of Marie de Negre d’Ables. So, she could never have been instrumental in it. In other words, somebody else than her must have told the painter Nicolas Poussin, Louis Fouquet and Nicolas Fouquet of “a” treasure in RLC. Who knew then ?

 

And another question arises right here: Was the treasure Marie de Negre d'Ables spoke about to some people of her very selected entourage, the same treasure as the one Louis Fouquet wrote in his letter to his brother Nicolas, or was it another one?

 

And here, too, we find the same families again in the frayed round.

 

• The King of France, from the House of the Bourbon, was an ancestor of the Count of Chambord who married a Habsburg. Remember that the Bourbon belonged to the Capetian dynasty that started with Hughes Capet, crowned 3d July 987.
• The King's Superintendent of Finances, Louis XIII, i.e. 8 positions before Nicolas Fouquet, was none other than a member of our dynasty, of the Bailleul lineage, Nicolas de Bailleul (°1586 - †1652). As luck would have it, he was also Chancellor to Queen Anne of Austria. Another Habsburg.
• Still another well-known family entered the danse with Charles-Alexandre de Croÿ (1581-1624), the Superindentent of Finances of Philippe III of Spain.

 

At the obvious risk of repeating myself, it's always the same families that we meet in this RLC affair, century after century, as if time had sealed their involvement with.

 

What else ?

 

To have the whole picture (as far as we know) of the possible treasures hidden in Rennes-le-Château, we must also note the “evacuation” of the treasures from three bishoprics near Rennes-le-Château, as well as those from the Château de Rennes itself.

 

1. We know that the Visigothic king of Hispania and Septimania, Leovigild (who reigned from 568 to 586), pursued a policy of strengthening Arianism and reducing Catholic influence. He persecuted several Catholic bishops, including his own son, Saint Hermenegild. So was the bishop of Carcassonne, Mgr. Serge (or Serenus), forced to flee, accompanied by his entourage: canons, clerics, and about a dozen members of his household, taking with him the treasure of his cathedral.

 

He sought refuge in "Rocaberti," also known as "vicus Rhedae," the ancient name for Rennes-le-Château. A religious community already resided there, providing a suitable environment for hosting the exiled bishop.

 

By "treasure," one should understand a collection consisting of relics, reliquaries, chests, liturgical vessels, jewelry and personal items, as well as various objects of worship, most of them made of gold or silver. A significant amount of money was added to this, that was part of the treasure money reserve, plus the money coming from tithes, and the revenues of the bishopric, along with a reserve designated for the payment of ecclesiastical staff.

 

The bishop remained in RLC for fifteen years before returning to Carcassonne, this time without the cathedral’s treasure. He took back only the essential liturgical items needed for the continuation of his ministry, leaving behind a canon, assisted by the local religious community, tasked with protecting and managing the treasure that had been secured. This is what has been reported.

 

2. In 719, the Umayyad (Muslim) troops, coming from Al-Andalus (Muslim Spain), crossed the Pyrenees and seized Narbonne, which became a strategic point in their attempt to push further north into Gaul. It was not until the year 759 that “Pepin the Short”, father of Charlemagne and King of the Franks, retook the city after a long siege. It was during the Saracen invasion, that the Archbishop of Narbonne, Monsignor Saint Arnac (or Arnachius, Arnacharius), is said to have also taken refuge in RLC, taking with him his court and the treasure of the cathedral. Here we go again… to RLC.

 

3. The third “evacuation” concerns the Bishop of Alet-les-Bains, Monsignor Charles de La Cropte de Chanterac, and took place during the French Revolution. The Civil Constitution of the Clergy (1790) suppressed many dioceses, including that of Alet-les-Bains. The bishop refused to swear allegiance to this Constitution, like many other so-called refractory bishops, and had to take refuge in Rennes-le-Château, which at that time belonged to his diocese. He is said to have later taken refuge in Sabadell, near Barcelona, just as the famous Abbé Antoine Bigou did.

 

All these “evacuations” were certainly no easy matter, and the bishops would gladly have done without them. To claim that the lack of evidence concerning the flight of the Bishop of Narbonne to Rennes-le-Château casts doubt on the reality of the event is to ignore the grave situation in which the clergy found themselves at the time of the Arab invasion. The absence of proof of these “evacuations” does not exclude their possibility. If one accepts one version of the facts, one must also admit the possibility of its opposite.

 

Here is an overview of the historical events of this period, which clearly shows the mortal danger that the actions of this horde of Muslim barbarians represented for the clergy.

 

In 719 Umayyad (Saracen) armies from Al-Andalus advanced into the Visigothic province of Septimania and by 720 Narbonne (Arbuna), the Gothic capital of Septimania, had fallen to the Muslim governor al-Samh. Contemporary chronicles (like the Chronicon Anianense) report that Narbonne’s defenders were overwhelmed:

 

“The conquest is dated to the year 720. The women and children were enslaved, while the men were slain…”

 

In other words, the city was captured by force and its population massacred or enslaved. Narbonne and Septimania then remained under Islamic control for decades. Sources : Wikipedia.

 

If the clergy had made the imprudence of staying in the city, there is no doubt that they would have been put to the sword, even beheaded, a fate that the invaders of that time particularly favoured and inflicted without scruple, and that some fanatic groups still perpetuate today.

 

There is also no doubt that the treasures of the city’s cathedral would have been taken away. Though not documented in writing, the flight of the clergy belongs to the realm of historical events, as it is both perfectly logical and vividly preserved through oral tradition.

 

That being said, we must take into account the fact that almost everyone seems to have forgotten the treasures consisting of gold and silver bars, parchments, historical documents, and various objects of great value, both historical and material, made of gold or silver, which may have been hidden in other places than the church and cemetery.

 

Almost all researchers focused their efforts solely on the Church of Saint Mary Magdalene, the small cemetery, the nearby natural caves and the topographic particularities of the area, neglecting the medieval castle that belonged to the noble families of Rennes-le-Château: the “de Hautpoul” and “de Blanchefort” lineages and standing in the very heart of the village.

 

Is it not self-evident that, if there were in this small village some secret to guard or treasure to conceal, the medieval castle would be the most natural and secure place for it? What might have lain hidden in its dark cellars and secret underground chambers since the time of its construction, somewhere between the 11th (the first castrum) and the 16th century?

 

One does not need to be a scholar who graduated from Harvard, Cambridge, or the École Polytechnique to realise that nearly all ancient castles were equipped with underground passageways and galleries leading to secret chambers, storage rooms, and escape routes.

 

In the case of Rennes-le-Château, such tunnels have indeed been discovered, though they remain, for the time being, inaccessible due to collapses or deliberate backfilling carried out at unknown periods. They may once have connected the seigniorial castle directly to the church, the cemetery, or perhaps to other, as yet undiscovered, locations

 

Could it be that Bérenger Saunière made his discovery not in, under, or around the church itself, but somewhere within one of these hidden underground passages? They may once have connected the seigniorial castle directly to the church, perhaps ending in its “secret” crypt or the adjoining cemetery, or even leading to other, as yet undiscovered, locations?

 

It seems however that Abbé Saunière never carried out excavations outside the perimeter of his church and the cemetery. His immense efforts at camouflage on these two sites alone seem to indicate that he concentrated exclusively there.

 

Let us now turn to the comtal castle of Rennes-le-Château, known as “Hautpoul de Rennes.” I had the opportunity to visit it privately on 23 October 2025. Since 2016, the property has belonged to the family of Gérald Rigaud of Toulouse. Before that, from 1947 to 2016, it was owned by the Fatin family, originally from Perpignan.

 

This imposing edifice, though half in ruins, once contained thirty-seven rooms, of which barely a dozen remained habitable in the time of Henri Fatin, son of Marius Fatin. What strikes one immediately upon entering is the great simplicity of the dwelling, which seems frozen in another age.

 

The main staircase, to cite only this example, cannot be compared with the vast and elegant structures admired in noble seigneurial residences; it evokes rather the austerity of a medieval fortress than the refinement of an aristocratic home. Within the castle itself, one searches in vain for any sign of architectural richness or luxury of any kind.

 

The bed in which the Marquise Marie de Nègre d’Ables slept until her death is still there, intact, but of great simplicity, its only ornament being the coats of arms of her family, those of the “Nègres d’Ables” and the “Hautpoul-Blanchefort.” If I describe this castle briefly, it is in order to better set the stage for the development that follows.

 

It is well known that the site of Rennes-le-Château was altered and thoroughly excavated by the village priest, Abbé Bérenger Saunière, as early as 1885, and later by generations of treasure seekers, spurred on by the media echo surrounding this place.

 

The true outbreak of the “treasure hunt” began with the publication of Gérard de Sède’s book “L’Or de Rennes”. Yet the real explosion came a few years later, through the work of a British scholar writing under the pen name Henry Lincoln. He joined forces with two other researchers, Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh.

 

Their book, “The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail” (translated into French as “L’Énigme Sacrée”), was published on January 18, 1982, and had the effect of an unprecedented earthquake. Like a seismic tremor, it erupted without warning one winter morning, and its resonance spread instantly across the globe

 

This account of “alternative Western European history” shook millions of minds within just a few days and even seemed to undermine the very foundations of the Roman Church. For some, it represented the second great fracture in its history, the first having been provoked in the sixteenth century by the priest and theologian Martin Luther (*1483 - †1546), initiator of the Protestant Reformation in Thuringia. Since then, the vast “planetary multinational” that is the Catholic Church has continued, over time, to crack and fragment.

 

The earthquake caused by The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail was by far deeper than that provoked by another major twentieth-century discovery: that of the Dead Sea Scrolls, brought to light between 1947 and 1956 in the caves of Qumran, near Khirbet, in Judea, among them, notably, the famous Book of Enoch. For of this discovery, only a handful of specialists ever truly knew, and scarcely a few of them grasped its full import.

 

The tidal wave unleashed by the work of Henry Lincoln and his collaborators, on the other hand, spread with the speed of a tsunami. It stormed the shores of all four continents and directly reached the general public. Its success was such that no fewer than 6 000 000 copies were sold worldwide. The book triggered, as we have seen, a genuine literary avalanche: no fewer than 800 works, written in many foreign languages, have since been published on the subject. It is estimated that 1.2 to 2 billion people read the book (Davinci Code) and know something about Rennes-le-Château.

 

Where the Hautpoul castle, though located at the very heart of this tiny village, ought to have played a role in the enigma of Rennes-le-Château… it did not. And it is precisely there that the paradox lies. For beyond its inaccessibility inherent in its function as a seigneurial residence, it contained within its walls a highly symbolic place: its private chapel, known as the Chapel of Saint Peter (ecclesia Sancti Petri de Redae), erected within the castle enclosure, on the mound of the fortress.

 

For what reason the lords of the place abandoned it, or at what exact time it ceased to serve its liturgical function, is unknown. What is certain, however, is that no excavation was ever undertaken there, even though, by its situation and its function, it might well have proven decisive in the search for the hypothetical deposits or some relics tied to the very ancient history of Rennes-le-Château.

 

There is, as far as the castle is concerned, indeed a good reason for this: it lies in the particular character of its owner, Mr. Fatin. He ensured that no one was ever authorized to enter his domain, not even to cross the boundaries of his seigneury. And the man did not do things by halves. The story is told of a tax inspector who, during a visit to the castle, found himself locked up there for several days. Following this incident, his wife forbade him, quite simply, ever to set foot in the place again.

 

The parish church of Rennes-le-Château, dedicated to Saint Mary Magdalene, remains indissociably linked to the figure of Abbé Bérenger Saunière. Yet, when one considers the singular magnitude that the “affair of Rennes-le-Château” has taken in the collective imagination, it is surprising to note that the other essential monument of the village, namely, the medieval castle, was left entirely on the sidelines of both research and controversy.

 

In Saunière’s time, the fortress was nothing more than an abandoned ruin. Uninhabited since the death of Marie de Nègre d’Ables in 1781, nearly a century before the arrival of the priest, it stood in a state of advanced dilapidation, a silent witness to a bygone seigneurial past.

 

After the time of Bérenger Saunière, the ruined castle changed hands several times, passing between various local owners who, however, never lived in it and took little care of it. Neglected, it served as a quarry for stones used in the construction of village houses.

 

Its penultimate holder was the Dallbies family. One member of this lineage, Maurice Dallbies (or Dalbiès), a soldier of the 53rd Infantry Regiment, is mentioned on the commemorative plaque dedicated to the victims of the First World War, affixed to the wall of the Church of Saint Mary Magdalene in Rennes-le-Château.

 

The premature death of this young man, and its repercussions within the family, may have contributed, through a series of indirect, cumulative but decisive effects, compounded by the hardships of the Second World War, to the decision to sell the castle. Thus, in 1947, the fortress passed into the hands of the family of Marius Fatin.

 

If it is probable that Abbé Bérenger Saunière’s “treasure” was essentially of a religious nature, the most elementary logic would suggest that it was hidden in the Church of Saint Mary Magdalene or in its immediate proximity the adjoining cemetery. The complete remodelling of the small church, the significant statuary, the enigmatic inscriptions introduced there, as well as the discreet yet persistent interventions of the priest within the cemetery enclosure, all seem to support this hypothesis.

 

But what of the other treasures that tradition or research have evoked? Where were they deposited, if not in this modest church? Perhaps in some nearby cave? And why not, more logically still, within the comtal castle itself?

 

For castles have always been considered places of protection and retreat. The access to the seignorial estates was restricted and strictly monitored. And the castle, at the heart of this domain, was by definition inaccessible to those without rights. In this sense, access to a fortress had nothing in common with that of a Spanish inn: it was a matter of privilege and close control, ensuring both security and discretion.

 

Concerning the underground passages: an article by Raoul Lambert (*1925 - †1994), published in La Dépêche du Midi under the title “In the Comtal Castle of the Razès”, reports the words of Henri Fatin (born in 1933 in Beirut). He told him: “…and you will shiver when they show you the entrance to the Roman oubliettes dating from 100 B.C.”

 

Today, nearly half a century later, no one remembers ever having heard mention of these oubliettes. But they, unlike memories, do not vanish. They remain, lurking in the shadows, silent, buried somewhere in the stone, waiting to be rediscovered.

 

There exists an underground passage, which begins at the bottom of the castle’s known oubliette. This one is located beneath the round tower, accessible through the kitchen, and appears as a circular shaft about five meters in diameter, plunging some fifteen meters deep. It was precisely at the bottom of this shaft that Mr. Henri Fatin discovered the start of a blocked passageway, oriented northwards, in the direction of the so-called “Visigothic hall.”

 

This passage, most probably an escape corridor such as is commonly found in old castles, could very well lead to a cellar or to other underground galleries. For these ancient dwellings did not only house noble halls and defensive towers: they often concealed entire networks of secret passages, hidden caches, and oubliettes.

 

It was precisely at the bottom of one of these oubliettes that Mr. Henri is said to have discovered two skeletons (according to the testimony of Mr. Gérald Rigaud, who recounts his words), still armed with their lances, as if frozen in the expectation of an interrupted combat. The gendarmerie, informed but remaining incredulous, wrote no official report of the discovery. We are, after all, in the south of France!

 

Out of superstition, Mr Henri filled the shaft with rubble. Only recently, thanks to the interest shown by a local historical society, did the new owner, Mr Gérald Rigaud, begin to clear it out little by little, with the help of volunteers who come to work on the site during weekends. The objective is not to recover the human remains, but rather to retrieve the lances in order to determine their age through classical dating methods, including carbon-14 analysis.

 

But it is certain that once one comes close to any kind of “goal,” the discovery may be kept secret and the volunteers politely, yet skillfully, sent back home, following the same pattern used by Bérenger Saunière, who dismissed his own workers after having made a discovery in his church. The owner, Mr Gérald Rigaud, will undoubtedly avoid any risk of expropriation by the French State in the event of an important archaeological find.

 

There is also talk of another underground passage, said to start from the bottom of the water well located in the open courtyard, accessible by what is called the “Lords’ entrance.” But what possible use could there be for a passage whose entry lies submerged under several meters of water? For me, this is already a mystery. It seems technically inconceivable that an escape passage could ever have been designed to emerge at the bottom of a water well.

 

And then there is the strange story of the “Charlemagne flagstone” which no one dares move out of historical respect. Tradition holds that the emperor himself once set foot upon it. Of course, the castle did not exist at that time, because it was only built four centuries later. Yet nothing prevents us from imagining that another construction once stood there, of which this paving stone may have survived as a vestige.

 

In reality, nothing is known about these stones. Today, they form the floor of a room arranged within the castle. Yet this room appears to be relatively recent, since one can see a loophole opening into its interior. This detail is an architectural absurdity, unless one admits that, originally, this space lay outside the walls of the castle. The paving, then, would have been in the open air, independent of the seigneurial construction, or perhaps part of a much older structure. Be that as it may, tradition still “holds the upper ground,” so to speak, and continues to be taken very seriously. No one dares to touch this floor.

 

On this subject, one observation proves intriguing: when water is poured at a certain spot, visible only by a slight hollow in the floor (barely discernible, in front of the left leg of the chair visible in the attached photograph), the water immediately disappears, absorbed into the depths. This suggests the presence of a cavity, a gallery, or another underground passage.

 

There are also strong presumptions that at the bottom of the garden, at the “Haut Bouclier” (sic), belonging to the family of the knights Fra. Joseph Andreas (Tobi) Dobler (*1949 - †2023) and Sor. Gerdrud (Gerda), both Templars OSMTH, Commanderie of Sainte Mary Magdalene, in RLC), runs a passage connecting the comtal castle to the church.

 

Likewise, the large and imposing rooms that make up the basement of the residence of two other knights, Fra. Ralf Theilenberg and Sor. Beate (Templars OSMTH, Commanderie of the Priory of West Germany), arouse astonishment. For such rooms can hardly be considered as mere cellars of an old house. Their robust construction, in no way inferior to that of a medieval castle, suggests that they may conceal something.

 

No, I do not see underground passages everywhere, but the fact is that they are everywhere! The ground beneath these very old dwellings, built either in proximity to or directly upon historic sites, is literally riddled with them. In those bygone times, an underground passage was not a superfluous luxury, but a necessity: a matter of security, and sometimes even of survival.

 

There exists a very interesting historical text, written by the former castellan, Mr. Fatin, on a large whiteboard measuring approximately 1 m in height and 0,50 m in width.

 

This “document” had been concealed behind a wardrobe on one of the castle’s landings. After taking it out of its hiding place, I immediately photographed it. I am attaching the photograph of its upper part.

 

It is quite possible that this “document” is well known to the new castellan and even to the lady in charge of the castle’s guided tours. When I took the picture, she was already ahead of me, just around the corner at the bottom of the staircase.

 

I wonder, however, why it had been withdrawn from the sight of the castle’s occasional visitors. Was it by accident, just temporarily or by deliberate intent? The following passage especially caught my attention:

 

“In 771 Charlemagne settled at Reds (Rennes-le-Château); he rebuilt the feudal castle into a command fortress, and it was from Reds that he directed the conquest of Catalonia. At Reds he had a denarius struck, bearing a double cross quartered with the letters R.E.D.S. (Collection Rousseau 1848, page 117, cited by Loupinien).”

 

I traced the Collection M.J. Rousseau and the name Loupinien. It is actually “Adrien de Longpérier”. His work is called : “ Notice des Monnaies françaises composant la collection de M. J. Rousseau, Paris, 1848.”

 

So is what M. Fatin wrote in his document, correct. I just wonder where this man got this information from? He who lived at the end of the world (sic). Some argue that his information comes from the priest from Rennes-les-Bains, Henri Boudet (*1837 - †1915).

 

Analysing this part of the text, I found out what follows: The local erudite tradition, relayed in the 19th century by certain authors, notably Abbé Boudet and his predecessors, claims that Charlemagne, as early as 771, stayed at Reds (Rennes-le-Château). According to this account, he is said to have rebuilt the ancient Visigothic castrum into a command castle, from which he directed the conquest of Catalonia.

 

To this legend is added the mention of a coin allegedly struck at Reds, bearing a cross and the mysterious legend “R.E.D.S.”, cited in the Collection Rousseau (1848, p. 117).

 

However, contemporary historical sources contradict these claims. The Carolingian chronicles,” Annales regni Francorum, Einhard’s Vita Karoli Magni”, place Charlemagne, in 771, within his well-known royal residences: Herstal, Quierzy, Worms, Ingelheim, and Aachen, without ever mentioning Rennes-le-Château.

 

That there was a Visigothic castrum at Rheda goes without saying. Dagobert II (*650  - † 679), King of Austrasia, having taken refuge there upon his return from exile in Ireland and England, must have found shelter somewhere, and that “somewhere” was certainly not a camping tent.

 

All the more so since it is known that he married there a princess, Countess Gisèle Adèle de Razès (*653  - † c.*676), daughter of Count Béra II of Razès (*620) and of Gisilicia of the Visigoths (*630). These figures lived neither in tents nor in humble cottages; to remain realistic cannot make us be accused of fantasy. They had three children: Rotilde, Sigisbert IV of Razès, and Adèle.

 

As for Charlemagne’s Hispanic campaigns, they began only in 778 with the expedition to Saragossa, whose tragic episode at Roncesvalles has remained famous. The military bases for these operations were Toulouse and Narbonne, not the Razès.

 

Thus, if the image of a Charlemagne residing at Rennes-le-Château seems to belong more to romantic myth and local historiography than to documented history, this does not, for all that, exclude the possibility that he may once have set foot there. Be that as it may, a few years later, he is indeed found in the region.

 

And if, as we have seen, members of our lineages were already established in the Razès, others, following the emperor, settled there in their turn.

 

Was it with the arrival of Charlemagne that the castel of Belcastel-et-Buc was built? Or did it already exist earlier, in the time of Charles Martel, his grandfather, during his campaigns in Septimania and Provence (around 737)? Or perhaps under Pepin the Short, his father, who recaptured Narbonne in 759, marking the true attachment of the South to the Frankish kingdom? No one knows.

 

These families, we saw earlier, stemming from the provincial nobility, were closely tied to the seigneury of Rennes-le-Château. The most commonly mentioned title held by the lord of the estate was that of Marquis d’Hautpoul de Blanchefort, inherited through an alliance between the families of Hautpoul and Nègre, as well as that of Baron de Rennes.

 

Now, the priest associated with this noble family was none other than the famous Abbé Antoine Bigou (†1794), the last parish priest to serve in Rennes-le-Château before the French Revolution.

 

He was the confessor of the local noble family, and in particular of Marie de Nègre d’Ables, Marquise d’Hautpoul de Blanchefort, who died in her castle in Rennes-le-Château on January 17, 1781. She is the emblematic figure around whom all the mysteries and legends revolve.

 

Following disputes with her daughters, the Marquise disinherited them. One of them, Élisabeth, known as Mademoiselle de Rennes, a ruined châtelaine, was dispossessed of her Château de Rennes in 1816 and died unmarried in 1820. Dame Marie de Nègre d’Ables entrusted her confessor, Abbé Bigou, with documents of the utmost importance, as well as historical secrets that had been jealously guarded by her lineage for over a thousand years.

 

The abbé Antoine Bigou became the keeper of ancestral knowledge, carefully transmitted from generation to generation within this ancient and illustrious family. Let us recall that one of their ancestors was none other than Bertrand de Blanchefort, 6th Grand Master of the Order of the Temple from 1156 to 1169.

 

These families were not only witnesses, but often active participants in the major events, both secular and religious, of the entire region. By virtue of their rank and position, they were custodians of knowledge of the highest order. Nothing that happened in Rennes-le-Château, within their domain, escaped their awareness, century after century.

 

The “de Blanchefort” lineage dates back to the Middle Ages, but the branch that concerns us more specifically in the context of Rennes-le-Château seems to appear as early as the XIIIth century. The name Blanchefort is found in several noble lineages of Languedoc and Aquitaine, but the local branch tied to Rennes-le-Château is believed to result from alliances, probably in the 16th century, between the d’Hautpoul family (or d’Hautpoul de Rennes), attested since the 11th century, and the Blancheforts.

 

Be that as it may, these very ancient families, owners of numerous estates, including that of Rennes-le-Château, must have possessed extensive knowledge of the historical events that marked the region: from the Moorish invasions to the Cathar heresies, including the Templars, the Crusades, the Inquisition, and the French Revolution.

 

I will open a brief parenthesis here to provide a striking example of this kind of matter. I refer to it in this Essay, Chapter VIII: The Bels in the South of France, Subchapter: The Bels in the History of Rennes-le-Château - Back to our subject III. (somewhere around page 386) :

 

Quote : “The Brun family secretly retained, for more than 722 years, relics of the French King Louis IX (*1226 - †1270), also known as Saint Louis. No one was ever aware of it until the reliquary was delivered to the Archbishop of Lyon, Mgr. Cardinal Albert Florent Augustin Decourtray, on 23d August 1992. The relic is now on display in the Church of Notre-Dame-des-Sablons, in the medieval city of Aigues-Mortes (France). But why did the family wait over seven centuries before entrusting it to the Church?”

 

“Even our lineage archives contained very old and unique historical documents. No one here knows who wrote them or under what circumstances they ended up in our collection. We were also in possession of unique historical documents relating to the Hohenstaufen dynasty. Under Fra. Robert Adelsohn Bels, they were returned to their rightful archives in 2000. These examples prove that there is indeed much more hidden information at large that we ever suspected!” Unquote.

 

Moreover, since nothing on these seigneurial lands occurred without the owners being informed, there is every reason to believe that they knew, if not everything, at least some important mysteries related to their small church dedicated to Saint Mary Magdalene. A parish church that should rather be seen as the chapelle castellane (castle chapel).

 

The lords of Rennes knew what lay in the crypt beneath the church. Is that not where were buried, or perhaps still lie, not only all the members of their families, notably the seigneurs d’Hautpoul, who held lands in the Razès since the 11th century, but also the Blancheforts? That’s quite a number of people for such a small crypt...

 

A quick calculation is telling. We suspect that all the lords of RLC were buried there from the mid-12th century up to the 18th century. At the rate of one generation every 30 years, that gives us approximately 25 burials! They must really be cramped down there... unless, of course, the crypt is of unexpected dimensions!

 

It is worth noting that only the men were entitled to rest in the crypt; a few women were buried in the cemetery adjacent to the church.

 

Ultimately, if treasure hunters are looking for a true earthly paradise to pursue their passion, Rennes-le-Château is the perfect place, with one significant advantage: this mythical location is not buried deep in the Amazon jungle, but only an eight-hour drive from Paris. A paradise for researchers, if it weren't for the formal prohibition of all digging, probing, or excavation on the territory of the commune by the Municipal decree of July 28, 1965.

 

Among all these riches and fortunes buried since the most ancient times, it would be interesting to know which ones Nicolas Pavillon, Nicolas Fouquet, King Louis XIV and Abbé Saunière, might have laid their hands on !