Austerlitz, lena and des Arts ... Paris was starting to look like a vast chessboard on which the rich accumulated palaces and other playthings like so many sumptuous pawns.
‘And finally, there’s Jean-Baptiste de Chatel. He was born in 1766,
to a noble family from Orleans. He entered the Cistercian Abbey of
Pagemont in the Loiret at an early age. He wasn’t like you: he really
wanted to become a monk. But he soon got himself expelled by
the Abbey, discreetly, on the pretext of ill health, because the
Church wanted to avoid a scandal. Why do you think he did that?’
‘I spent four years in an abbey and you’re asking me why? I could
talk all day on that subject! Because he wanted to see the world,
because he had fallen in love, because he wanted to have children,
because he was attracted to women, or men, or he’d lost his faith »
‘No, it wasn’t any of those things. It was because he wanted to reform everything: the running order of Mass, the ordination of priests, the functioning of the Vatican ...’
‘A reformer?’
‘Yes, but a conservative reformer. He found the other monks didn’t pray devoutly enough to God and that Pope Pius VI and Louis XVI were too moderate.’
Margont shook his head, incredulous.
‘Pius VI, too moderate? You mean that Jean-Baptiste de Chatel was more royalist than the King and more Catholic than the Pope? How is that possible?’
‘Well, here’s an example. He wanted to ban all religions other than Catholicism.’
‘Wonderful! He wanted to ignite religious wars! What else?’
‘He was adamant that atheism should also be banned, and that education could only be provided by priests; he campaigned for renewed crusades to liberate Jerusalem.’
‘Oh, so that’s why the other members refer to him as “the crusader”. He’s a bigot!’
‘In 1791 he was keen to escape revolutionary France and considered the French clergy were too soft, so he went to Spain. He made an impressive start there: he was admitted to the Abbey of
Aljanfe, near Madrid, where he became the heir apparent to the abbot. In fact, many of the Spanish clergy shared his views that the French religious community was too moderate. His intransigent sermons were very appealing.’
‘But I wager he rapidly overtook even the most fanatical Spanish.’ ‘Fie did indeed. In Spain, you don’t take liberties with Catholicism, and in 1797 he was imprisoned by the Inquisition, accused of heresy because some of his interpretations of the Bible diverged from dogma. For example, he stirred up controversy about Christ’s poverty. According to the Bible, Christ had no personal or shared possessions. And it follows from this that the Catholic Church should also take a vow of poverty.’
‘That’s a long-standing debate that worries the Catholic Church a great deal. In the Middle Ages, Franciscans were frequently burnt at the stake merely for raising the question.’
‘His trial lasted three years.’
‘That’s incredible!’
‘It’s because he defended himself so vigorously. He used his
theological knowledge to confound the Inquisitors, he contested every point and argued ceaselessly. He kept going back to what he called the original Bible — that’s to say the most ancient texts in old Hebrew, in Aramaic and Ancient Greek - and referring to what he considered translation errors.’
Margont was astounded. He himself was quite capable of insolence - it was a typically revolutionary characteristic - and so he was always impressed when he heard about someone even more daring than he.
He said, as much to himself as to Lefine, ‘So in fact, he was saying to the Inquisitors - the most fanatical of fanatics - that they had the wrong Bible and he had the correct one, so he was the only man on earth to have access to the word of God.’
‘I would have loved to see that! And because inquisitorial trials are scrupulously recorded, the Inquisitors were obliged to answer him. Besides, Chatel drew attention to the irregularities in his trial. He knew all about inquisitorial proceedings because he believed that the Inquisition should be re-established in all countries.
During his time at the Abbey of Pagemont, he had worked on updating the proceedings - although no one had asked him to. Apparently he was already assuming that he would be the new inquisitor general of France.’
‘But where did he find the time? Monks are busy all day long: praying, listening to sermons in the chapterhouse, working, praying again, reading the Holy Scriptures, listening to the word of God ... They rarely have even short periods of free time.’
‘It doesn’t say in police reports how he found time.’
‘He must have done it at night...’
‘At the end of the trial the Spanish Inquisition condemned him to death. But the sentence was commuted to life imprisonment after an appeal was made to the newly elected pope, Pius VII. Chatel rotted in a Madrid gaol, dying a slow death while reading the Bible the Inquisitors were happy to let him have. It was Napoleon who eventually saved his life in 1808 when he suppressed the Inquisition after he besieged Spain.’
‘Chatel wasn’t very grateful. He thinks the Emperor is the
Antichrist. I thought he was joking when he said that, but now I’m sure that everything he said he meant literally.’
The police lost track of him after he was freed, and I haven’t been able to do much better. He only reappeared in 1813, in Paris, as a member of the Swords of the King. I can’t see any link between him and fire either.’
‘He doesn’t get on with Louis de Leaume. He can’t accept anyone’s authority, so he’s uncontrollable. I think even waging a campaign of murders would be too mild for him. What are his real aims, I wonder.’ Margont was lost in thought for a moment. They all have lives that reflect the period we’re living through: turbulent, full of confusion, contradictions and periods of wandering ... And we all believed that after the Revolution, everything would get better ... What do you know about the other members who aren’t on the committee?’
‘Not very much. They are a mixed bunch: monarchists, rabid believers whom Jean-Baptiste de Chatel convinced to join the Swords of the King with his sermons, refugees from other
dismantled royalist groups ... The biggest group are opportunists who’ve become royalists because they can see the tide is turning.’ ‘What did Charles de Varencourt really tell Joseph’s agents?’ There’s a whole police report on the subject. Very little on the committee members, because he claims they all keep their life stories to themselves. He only supplied new information on Vicomte de Leaume, whom he said had spent at least two years in England, living with friends in the Strand, the heart of the French royalist community. Paradoxically, what Varencourt really gave away was himself. The police had managed to identify all the members of the group - except him! Varencourt had believed that they already knew about him before he betrayed himself, but it wasn’t true.’ That was clever of him!’
‘He confirmed what the police already suspected - that the Swords of the King were planning to foment a popular uprising in favour of Louis XVIII.’
‘It’s a fashionable idea. Especially amongst monarchists. A bloodless revolution that would sweep away the republican-inspired
empire and restore the King. A sort of inverted Revolution, which would overturn all that the revolutionaries had put in place. Although that seems to me pie in the sky, just a way of refusing to face reality.’
‘And the group’s emblem. There again the police had their suspicions. The white cockade is deemed too popular by aristocrats, so the secret royalist societies like to develop their own devices of recognition. But Charles de Varencourt gave a detailed description of their emblem. And finally he revealed their proposed campaign of assassinations. But you’ll be furious when I tell you that although Varencourt supplied a list of eleven victims, Natai didn’t give it to me. He told me that his superiors were adamant that you shouldn’t discuss it with Varencourt.’