Day 82..."God will recognise his own" - 16th September

Spent the day exploring the Languedoc/Roussillon region. The Languedoc is the mountainous north-eastern foothills of the Pyrenees in France. The Albignesian Crusade occurred here, and lasted 40 years.

In the beginning of the 13th century, the Languedoc was an independant principality. Here, flourished the Cathars (or Cathari). A culture most advanced in Christendom with the exeption of Byzantium. Learning and philosophpy were esteemed, and esoteric thought - such as Cabala, flourished. The Cathars, dismissing the strict doctrine of Catholicsm, took on more fluid ideas. They recognised the feminine principle in religion, (preachers were of both sexes as well), religious tolerance was practiced, and they also believed in the equality of polar opposites (the Catholics believe the devil inferior to god). Their evil was material matter. And since material matter was evil, Jesus could not be of material matter. Their land was rich and prosperous, which made them complacent and decadant. The Catholic church became alarmed at this, as their influence was spreading to Germany, Flanders and Champagne. That Cathars dismissed aspects of the Catholic church - particularly the clergy and middlemen (if they were dismissed, what would they do for income? That was their worry). The Cathar dismissal of Catholic authority as well, was the most severe until Martin Luther began the Reformation.

So the Catholic church aimed for two birds with one stone. To stamp out Cathar heresy, and to also claim the rich spoils of the land for themselves. They got landowners from the north, who coveted Cathar land - to invest in their war. So behind the excuse of religious zeal, they set out to restore their power and wie out the Cathars. In the 1200's, more than 30,000 knighs and soldiers from Northern Europe descended on the Langudoc to the foothills of the Pyrenees. The whole territory over 40 years was ravaged and a whole population put the sword. The town of Beziers - some 15,000 were killed, many in the church itself, including women and children. Perpignan fell, Carcassonne fell (where we ate at the fortress last night). The zeal for the Crusade was "kill them all, God will recognise his own". (By the way, the Catholic army was aided by a Spaniard called Dominic Guzman...He reated a monastic order called the Dominicans - from which spawned an institution I think we all know...the Spanish Inquisition).

By 1243 all major Cathar towns and bastions had fallen, excluding some remote and isolated strong points. The citadel of Montsegur was chief among these. 10 months it helf tenacious resitance against 10,000 soldiers. It capitulated when its defenders numbered less than 400. The defenders were offered a chance to walk free from the fortress if they renounced certain ideologies and submitted to questioning. The Cathars asked for a two week truce. If anyone escaped during that truce - the people left would be killed. Near the end of that time, four men escaped down the sheer rock face of the western side and according to legend, carried the "cathar treasure". What it was, was not known. And it is a strange escape as they could have walked out the next day unharmed. The remainder, did now which to impart some knowledge to the inquistion or submit to the terms of the truce. They chose matrydom instead, where they wre dragged down the mountainside and burned en masse. What did they not which to impart? Why did some choose to die when they could walk free? And why did those men escape and risk the life of their friends? If they did carry treasure, it must have been something very small, or one of the persons themselves - for dangling off a sheer rock face in the middle of the night via rope would not have been easy...
Cathar heretics wre reputed by a number of legends to posess the Holy Grail. And what if the Grail was translated correctly - sang real (meaning holy blood) rather than san greal (holy grail). And from this fortress, the hamlet of Rennes le Chateau is not far...

I wont bother you with the details, there's a whole novel on it (and NO not the da vinci code, that piece of crap!). The Holy Blood, Holy Grail is a good read. Nathan was a quarter way through when we got here, so it was good for him to know what I was interested in. He found it intriguing as well. And he also now hates the Catholics more. ha ha.

We got up that morning in Carcassone and it was pretty rainy. It was cold and windswept, which assisted a moody ambience to our drive. I bought some yughurt and muesli from an off-licence and we ate while we drove. We were quickly in the countryside, as Carcassone is a pretty small town. I had thought that we might be lucky to see a few tourists sites and that is all, but I was astounded by what we found. The whole region was steeped in evocative legent, of a dramatic and bloodsoaked past. The sad history of the Cathars (mystery or no mystery) was on prominent display. I thought it would be kind of hidden history, but the residues were all around us.

We windy cliffs and mountians loomed impressively over us, with signs to/or views of ruined Cathar fortresses abounding. On the way up to Rennes le Chateau (I got sooo excited when I saw the sign), the road was tiny, narrow and winding up the hill. It circled round a hill that swept up high into the countryside, surrounded by low farmland and an ampitheatre of mountains. It was very evocative. Driving up the hill, we could see perched on a hill next door - the ruins of the Chateau of Blanchefort, (home to Bertrand de Blanchefort, 4th Grand Master of the Knights Templar).
Up on this high hill, in isolated farmland we arrived at the little hamlet of Rennes le Chateau. It surprised me how small it still was. (Despite the 2 car parks and 1 esoteric bookstore, it was comprised of only 5 or so small stone houses, complete with the church and large Tour Magdala).

I could not believe I was actually here. It felt so surreal! For those who don't know, Rennes le Chateau had a small church built over a smaller Visigoth structure. In 1891 the village priest called Sauniere did some small renovations and discovered some parchments in a Visigothic pillar. With the parchments he was dispatched to Paris (and took up quite an interest in Poussins 'Les Bergers die Arcadie' - which we saw at the Louvre!) He met with certain ecclesiastic authorities. He was welcomed into a small esoteric circle, and when he returned did more renovations including a possible crypt beneath a flagstone. Whatever he found, it changed his behaviour and lifestyle incredibly. He obliterated headstones, he decorated the church ina gaudy, bizzare and lurid fashion. He spent on an unprecedented scale (originally he was on an income of 6 pounds per year - not bad for a village priest). What he spent after, the equivalent of that amount today would value several million pounds. He held sumptous banquets and had influential people visit this small unassuming town, such as relatives of royals, actresses and politicians. Not bad for a small village priest. He must have stumbled on soe treasure, or secret which resulted in wealth and power... I think I'll stop writing this now, as I sound like an idiot.

Anyways, we sat and waited in the warmth of the car for the church to open. I would have died if it didn't! But it did. There were one or two people that came in (not the busloads I was fearing) but I was pleased with the attention, and had enough chance of having the liberty of the church to ourselves on a few occassions. We saw the inscription Sauniere placed above the door "Terriblis Est Locus Iste" (Latin for 'This Place is Terrible').

In the garden, I saw the visigothic pillar, with a bad statue of Mary on top. Inside, it looked like a normal little church, albiet with lots of garish plaster/plasticy religious stuff. But when you look closely, certain things about it looked a little wrong. In the door was Asmodeus (Judaic demon, custodian of secrets and guardian of hidden treasures). The plaques of the 14 stations of the cross were tacky, and had some subtle deviation or inconsistency to them. THere was one of Jesus carried into the tomb at night. Was it implying that he was crucified later in the day than expected? Or was he being carried out of the tomb, and not into it?

The Tour Magdala was a tower next door. Sauniere built it to house a library. It was an odd big tower, and looked a little fairy-tale castle-ish. Odd for a tiny five-house hamlet on an isolated hilltop. We didn't go in though.

We drove back down and went through windy mountainous roads, isolated and rainy - towards Montsegur. Nathan was very impressed with Montsegur. It really was a massive fortress, surrounded by a rock cliff face on all sides. It looked incredible. Secret or no secret, it was odd to know that people fought up there, and were burned on the bottom of the hillside where we were. The fact that it was dark and rainy added to the gloom. I couldn't comprehend how they could build such a massive fortress on top of such sheer rock face. No wonder that managed to hold out for months!
We could have climbed up to the fortress, but it was windy and raining steadily. And pretty cold. We would have been soaked. The rain was a hindrance. We were very disappointed, but not crazy. I thought it was best to see it from the outside anyway - it looks better. But Nate, I have discovered on this trip, loves going to the very top of things and guaging the surrounding area. We've climbed up domes and towers and castles and hills to see where we are, and admire the view. I'm glad he's done that.

We discussed going back to Carcassone, but decided to press on. We are glad we did too! On the way to Pyrepertuse, we drove through an evocative, windy mountain pass. It was called Gorges de Galamus and it was worth the drive, just to go through this! The road was half carved into the rock. Our car hugged it and we treaded slowly, the cliff thrusting up on our right side, and a steep drop and a river below us. There were cliff walks you could take somewhere, that would bring you into mountainous caves with religious icons carved or placed there. Amazing.

I was stil amazed at how prolific and still visible the Cathar history was. So many fortresses, and so many reinders of their fateful history. I knew about the Crusades, but always envisioned village huts burning. but here was massive proof of the Catholic Churches genocide.

Perypertuse squatted high and long atop a ridge with a drop of several hundred metres on either side. It looked almost an extension - or even part of the cliff itself. It was too rainy and expensive to go up, and the exterior is more spectacular than the ruined interior. From what I see, apart from Carcassone, most of the fortresses haven't really been occupied since. So we didn't go up. As it was, we were high in the hillside and from the windy clifftop we could look out over the sweeping valley. We saw a tiny village and some vineyards. Squatting on a neighbouring mountain in the distance, was Queribus, another Cathar site. It was built out of the mountain, a massive and impressive extension. From this distance, it almost looked like a big pimple or gouiter jutting out of the mountain face. ha ha. We drove right past him as well, enjoying the isolated country roads, local vineyards and tiny towns. All set amongst moody mountains and looming castles.

The best one, we don't even know its name: on the way home it was raining badly, and we happened upon a cute hamlet snuggled by a rushing river. A hill swept up behind it, covered in dense cloud. Then above that loomed a massive spooky astle. A fortress from childrens stories, sitting above the cloud. Like it was swiirling in mist in the air above the town and mountain.


We were so pleased with all we saw, and glad we didn't stop and give up at Montsegur. Satisfied, we drove back through cute countryside and arrived home around 7-8pm. We drove straight to the castle of Carcassone and had dinner in there again. (And again I lapsed into fairytale daydreaming. But I will note this - I do see muddy skirts, and lepers and men with no teeth...I am a realist you know.) hee hee.

We walked around but many of the restaurants wre ore expensive, or looked cheap and tacky. We searched hard, lest us be copouts, but the best choice was where we ate last night. Still smarting from getting crap Spanish fare, we ate there again. We both had the pate this time - its so good! And Nate had pork ribs. We got our first bad bottle of wine since away (a granny tasting wine) but it was so cheap that we felt ok ordering half a bottle of something else. After a whole day of driving and wonder, we were pretty tired and headed to bed around 11/midnight.