29 – Gazing…

Higher

The almost colourless windows of the glass cage that forms the apse add to the simplicity of the abbey. It is a form of leadlight work that I find particularly appealing, and in fact had used in my own home at the time. The prismatic effect of some of the cut glass creates small iridescent rainbow spots of light that dance and move upon the stones constantly as the light outside changes and hides behind passing clouds. 

The use of polychromatic decorative carvings inside the church (such as that of Saint Michel seen yesterday behind the main altar) benefit greatly from this pure light – again a strong contrast when compared to the deep rich colours used in glazing the windows of Chartres Cathedral. We’ll take a closer look at some of these polychrome works later. 

Take time to appreciate the stone lace and lattice work, so typical of French Gothic, and yet unlike anything I have seen elsewhere. The placement of the external supporting structures and buttresses is incredible for its lack of shadow interference with the lighting. The strength of those internal supports is almost unimaginable. That this is the third tier of the Marvel stretches belief - for we were yet to see how this feat was achieved.

28 – From the nave…

The transept

With St Michel watching over the altar we faced the elaborate Gothic transept crossing and the apse. Reputedly based on the Abbey of St Ouen in Rouen, this part of the abbey emulates the best in Gothic architecture. While the exterior of this section of the building is decidedly flamboyant with flying buttresses and lace like tracery, there is a simplicity to the interior that somehow enhances and highlights the few decorative elements of detail in the stone carving surrounding the second and third tiers of the chancel windows. Likened by some  to a glass cage, light streams in from the windows of the chapels off the surrounding ambulatory behind the rear chancel arches. The central chapel directly behind the altar is that of Notre Dame. The height of the vaulting in the chancel is simply staggering and the contrasting colour of supporting stone piers serves to attract the eye to this. Once again the interior of the chancel's appearance belies the exterior forest of stone enabling it to stand erect - a testament to the architectural genius that designed it.

This sight must surely awaken any latent seeds of spirituality in even the least devout. Those more so spontaneously genuflected and began to pray.

I stood in awe.

27 – The Doors…

In To The abbey

Have you heard of Project Gutenberg? Johannes Gutenberg is of course widely acknowledged as the father of the printed word. The eponymously named Project has a simple mission – to encourage the creation and distribution of e-books.  Amongst the volumes available for download from this source is a fascinating and detailed glimpse into the past of Mont St Michel from the American journalist, historian and academic Henry Brooks Adams (February 16, 1838 – March 27, 1918). If you appreciate poetic, fine and slightly archaic writing it’s worth taking a look at this work.

Why do I mention this? Coincidentally during this trip to France I was to visit two very different places of Christian worship – the Mont and Chartres Cathedral. I went to Chartres principally to view the magnificent stained glass art of the cathedral windows – acknowledged to be amongst the finest in the world.  Adams’ work by coincidence is titled “Mont-Saint-Michel and Chartres” and he well illustrates through his writing how very different in character these two destinations are. Having already enjoyed the splendour and colour of the windows Chartres, the simplicity of the work found in the abbey of Mont St Michel is a marked contrast in style. And yet it is also very much in keeping with the monastic atmosphere of the island. 

We entered the abbey door. A hush fell on the crowd. Before us lay the towering transept of the abbey at Mont St Michel.  It was a lot to take in.

26 – Across the courtyard…

To The abbey

We had arrived at the summit of our climb of the Mont on the western platform, an ideal place from which to start the tour of the abbey and interiors of the Merveille. All that remained was to cross the stone courtyard with its strangely marked stone slabs, and to enter the church.  I once again marvelled at the amount of stone that had been transported to the Mont, and raised from its landing place so far below us. How many hours must have been spent in cutting and shaping the rocks, and what toil had so many men contributed to get each to its final place. In no small way the achievement of the buildings on the Mont must be close the accomplishment of the building of the pyramids of Egypt (an analogy I have mentioned before, as aptly as here). I needed to savour each step across these stones, thinking of the many millions who have gone this way before me, from the pilgrims of centuries ago to yesterday’s tourists. To the right stood gables of stone, and around the courtyard stood visitors, predominantly a coach load of the ubiquitous Japanese visitors that one increasingly encounters appreciating Europe. No matter what their language, nationality or faith, one could tell from the visitors’ expressions and actions that they too had just arrived and had yet to visit inside the church. There is something that noticeably changes in each sightseer once they have been through the abbey.

25 – The Mystery…

Numbers

Where is Robert Langdon when you really need him?

Crossing the expanse of the courtyard outside the abbey, the observant visitor will notice numbers and symbols cut into many of the granite paving stones.  At first I spotted a single number or letter. Was it an 8? Or was it the letter B? And what did it mean? The one thing I was certain about with everything on Mont St Michel was that nothing was insignificant. Everything had its purpose, and so too, I was sure would be these cuts into the cobbled pavers.  With the publication of his runaway bestsellers “The Da Vinci Code” and “Angels and Demons” the links between coded messages, historic French locations and ancient religious sites, especially those with centuries old secrets were never far from my mind. What secrets does Mont St Michel hold – and could these numbers have some deep dark hidden meaning?

I had to catch Segolene our guide, for her wealth of knowledge of the history of the Mont seemed limitless.

“The stones,” she explained, “were cut in quarries some distance from here – their final site - and each batch was marked with a location number for re laying.” Seeing an obvious slight look of scepticism on face, she added, “and the cutters were paid according to the number of stones they shaped. So the numbers were location markers and the letters were the mason’s code determining his wages due.”  I bought the explanation at the time, but still find myself wondering if that is all the meaning the glyphic symbols contain.

And – if Dan Brown ever works these into novel, remember you read the inspiration here first.

24 – Down below…

From up above

From the courtyard in front of the abbey one gets a good idea of just how far one has climbed.  The rock on which the abbey is constructed rises some eighty four metres above sea level, while the Fremiet statue of St Michel atop the abbey spire is said to be some one hundred and seventy metres high.

Looking west down to the Gabriel Tower, one sees acres of the silt now settled in the salt marshes of the bay. Distinctive in colour, this is known to the French as the “tangue”. The Gabriel Tower was added to the fortifications on the mont following the end of a period under siege in 1524. It is suggested by some that the tower had been named after Gabriel, one of three archangels of mention in the Bible. That would be fitting (romantic even) but it was in fact named after Gabriel de Puy a French military strategist. Designed to allow artillery defence from all approaches, in the seventeenth century when its defensive purpose was no longer required a windmill was mounted on the tower. It was repurposed as a lighthouse station for boats on the Couesnon river. Operational at the time for three and a half hours around the high tide, the light has been inactive since 1904. It was originally (in 1870) a static red light mounted in a wood cabin, then moved to the tower in 1881. For a height perspective – this three storied tower stands some eight metres to its peak.

Although the tower is now closed, one couple with our tour party did get to the doorway of the structure.

They returned engaged. Such is the magic of the mont!!!

23 – The Causeway…

Controversy

Arriving almost at the top of Mont St Michel one gets a great 360 degree perspective of the area and surrounding bay of the abbey.  One can also see why claim to ‘ownership’ of the Mont is rightfully made by Normandy – for in truth the site lies right on the border of Normandy and Brittany. That border is effectively defined by the small Couesnon River, and by an act of providence the Couesnon flows into the sea below the south side of the Mont.

But is it providence?

You may have noticed that I have on occasion referred to the Mont as an island, yet I always have a slight feeling of discomfort when doing so, for the motor causeway constructed some sixty years ago to carry visitors to the parking at the foot of the Mont has also effectively permanently joined the island to the mainland. And it has more significantly altered the flow of waters and tides around the bay – including the flow of the Couesnon.

The bay area of Mont St Michel is one of the largest, most ecologically diverse and important marine areas in the world. And it has been largely ruined. Fortunately it is not too late to undo the damage and a major project, proposed as far back as 1995, is now underway to return the bay closely to its former pristine glory. Known as Projet Mont Saint-Michel, fuller details of this ambitious and worthwhile project may be viewed here (use your back arrow key or browser history to return to this site). Work will free the island from the binds of the salt marshes, rid it of the unsightly parking area and return it to a marine setting. Visitors will again enjoy the Mont, and nature undisturbed.

It will once more become an island.

22 – At the church doors…

The clergy

It is hard to pinpoint just where the ambience of Mont St Michel begins to alter, but there is a definite change of feeling and mood as you ascend from the town towards the abbey. It is in part fostered by the architectural changes I have mentioned before and obviously also by the changing purpose of the buildings from commercial, to residential and finally to the three storied Marvel, centre of the mount. Somehow conversation becomes quieter and less intrusive. There are no signs requesting this, it simply seems to be a universal reaction to the space.  I am not a deeply religious person myself, certainly not in a conventionally ecclesiastical way but here I finally understood the spiritual use of the word celestial. Mont St Michel is that – celestial.

At the door to the church a trio of a priest and two nuns were engaged in one of those hushed conversations - a certain indication that we were close to the entrance to the Abbey. Perhaps they are resident members of the Monastic Fraternities of Jerusalem, the incumbent Catholic order resident on Mont St Michel.  You will notice the careful reconstruction work on the masonry at the base of the pillars, and once again the splendid ironwork of the door hinges.

The main part of the tour was about to commence.

21 – St Michel …

The Spire statue

Gazing up skywards we now had a magnificent view of the spire crowning the abbey.  The gilt statue of St Michel, the same one that as tiny a speck as it had seemed earlier had glinted in the sunlight and beckoned us across the miles, was now clearly visible, the detail of his winged presence continuing to encourage us to complete the last few paces required to enter the abbey. (Click on the image to view an enlarged version)

The work is by Emmanuel Fremiet, commissioned in 1894 to design the statue during restoration of the Abbey.  It depicts St Michel slaying the dragon – a typical pose of the Archangel in classical art – both in paintings and in sculpture. The dragon refers of course to Satan, Lucifer or the Devil, the story being told biblically as follows:

And there was war in heaven, Michael and his angels fought with the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels: And prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven: And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, who deceiveth the whole world; he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him. (Revelation 12:7-9)

Fremiet had gained some degree of artistic fame following the exhibition of his 1874 statue of Joan of Arc a work displaying a strong sense of realism, continued here in Fremiet’s St Michel. This piece was actually a two metre scaled enlargement of an earlier commercially produced 1879 Fremiet statuette of a mere fifty centimetres. Produced by the studios of Monduit, Mont St Michel’s statue is of gold leafed repoussé copper, for the weight of a bronze casting would have made its mounting on the spire impossible. A second rendition is on display in Paris’ Musée d’Orsay.

It is magnificent.

20 – Going up, going down …

On the stairs

I believe there are some nine hundred stairs on the way up to the abbey. I never counted - but recalling climbs up the Arc de Triomphe and Pantheon in Paris (where I did) this seems entirely plausible. In addition there are the ascending streets and ramps, there is the Grand Outer Staircase and the Grand Inner Staircase, and then there are just the ordinary stairs those in the towers and on the ramparts. In other words – you will need a bit of stamina getting to the top.

The abbey and church of Mont St Michel remain Roman Catholic, so it was no surprise to encounter nuns and priests along the way to the abbey. For over a century these would have been of the Benedictine order, but today (and since 2001) the resident clergy on the Mont are of the Monastic Fraternities of Jerusalem. Driven out of the abbey at the time of the Revolution and with much property of the church seized by the atheistic government of the day, the island was used as a prison from around 1793 for some seventy years. Amongst the first inmates were around 300 priests refusing to renounce their vows to God. Ironically the early hermit monks would have chosen this retreat for its isolation and solitude – something they wouldn’t get much of today with the Mont’s annual turnout of some three and a half million visitors.

19 – Entry gained …

beyond the gate

Once beyond the Barbican there is a notable change in architectural style. The comparative simplicity of mediaeval Romanesque gives way to a gothic style that is considerably more romantic, considerably more decorative and somehow more suited to its glorious purpose. This is not surprising, for (like Rome) Mont St Michel was not built in a day. We had already seen in the town how reconstruction and restoration of the inns and houses had resulted in half timbered construction being replaced with stonewall techniques, and hearing the history of the Abbey – the buildings of the Abbey, churches and the Marvel span a couple of centuries, both in terms of original and replacement construction - I guess the transitions are to be expected. I admire the way the French are able to combine styles of architecture that should not work together but which, in their capable hands, do. Perhaps the best example of this is the Louvre Palace in Paris, where elements embodying all of these styles and then the added modernity of Pei’s contemporary transparent pyramids combine to create a harmonious whole. I know some opinions differ on the success of this, but to me it works.

Still towering above the visitor these embellished walls, with their buttresses and gargoyled drainage systems encourage you to continue that climb to the summit. You cannot help but wonder how the builders managed to raise the heavy stone blocks used up such heights, capping the underlying base rock on which the Marvel and abbey sit. This question would be revealed as the tour progressed.

Again my group had moved out of sight.  It was time once more to catch up.

18 – The Barbican …

At the gate

Continuing with our climb up the Mont, increasingly dwarfed by the looming stone walls, we encounter part of the defensive structure of the buildings known as the barbican. Although the word is of argued linguistic origin (most probably from the Latin barbecana) barbican is a term applied to many castle fortified entrances. Commonly protected by twin turrets or towers as is the case here, this example is part of the fourteenth century defensive system of Mont St Michel.  As is usual the barbican was part of the front line defensive system of the abbey.  Linked by crenulated ramparts any attacker would be vulnerable to repulsion through objects dropped from above as well as artillery fire from the towers. Could the visible pitting of the lichen crusted hard granite stonework be relics of English attempts to breach the gate? Siege methods of attack became increasingly sophisticated as artillery weaponry increased in fire power – both in distance and effect, and most barbicans constructed beyond the fifteenth century (they are a common feature of later French chateaux architecture) were more decorative than practical.  

Entering through the barbican gate there was a notable change in mood amongst the visitors. The Disneyesque commercial character of the town was left behind and the spiritual nature of the Mont began to surface.

I knew then that this visit would be something special.

17 – The Marvellous …

Merveille

In French they call it simply Merveille, which translates into English as the Marvel or The Wonder. Mont St Michel in its entirety is often (perhaps confusingly) dubbed the “merveille de l’ouest” (the Wonder of the West). So what exactly should we expect when visiting the Merveille?

Most simply explained it is the core of buildings which formed the original (circa 1228) monastery - six tiered magnificent halls added to the then existing church. Predominantly built in the Gothic architectural style they combine the outward strength of a fortress with the plainness of their original religious intentions.  Built on three levels (our guide explained) the lowest level of the Marvel was the place for the pilgrims and the bourgeoisie coming to pay homage to St Michel. They had their own chapel and rooms as well as plentiful accommodation in the town buildings we have already seen in passing. The middle level was inhabited by nobility and royalty, whilst the upper level of the abbey and cloisters was the preserve of the clergy, those closest to their God.  If today that seems like a class system - indeed it was. And despite the often quoted divine rights of kings the power, wealth and influence of the church should not be underestimated.

This name – whether you choose Merveille,  or Wonder,  or Marvel - seems apt, as the soaring edifices of its construction dominate the Mount, from that first inland approach, all through the climb up its 900 or so steps, right to the top. It was Victor Hugo who was recorded in 1865 as having said, " Le Mont Saint-Michel apparaît … comme une chose sublime, une pyramide merveilleuse." Undoubtedly that is not the first nor last use of that adjective applied to the Mont for an often read analogy is that Mont St Michel is to the sea what the Great Pyramid of Cheops is to the desert.

I couldn’t put it any better myself. 

And still we climbed.

16 – Tombelaine

The Neighbour to the north

From the ramparts as well as from the saltmarshes below Mont Saint Michel, on a clear day you will see a smaller granite rock island off the Normandy coast. Situated a few kilometres from the Mont itself this is the island of Tombelaine.  Popularly (though probably apocryphally) believed to be named after a Princess Hélène reputedly buried here (Tomb of Hélène) Tombelaine was at one time also home to an abbey founded in the thirteenth century. More vulnerable than Mont Saint Michel, this island was occupied in early 1423 by the English during that period known as the Hundred Years War. All buildings and fortifications were destroyed in 1666 for fear of repeated English occupation.

Geologically these granite outcrops in the area are known as igneous intrusive formations, having formed below the earth’s outer crust – then being exposed through centuries of erosion of the outer sedimentary layers of softer rock formation.  Today Tombelaine is owned by the state as a bird and nature reserve. It is possible (given enough time) to hike across the bay from Mont St Michel, but be aware that you will be crossing quicksand areas and a couple of river burns, so your timing - in view of the strength and fearsome speed of bay tides - will be critical. Departure some four and a half hours before the high tide hour is recommended. A visit to Tombelaine will give the visitor some idea of what Mont Saint Michel would have been like before being built upon.

15 – Along the Ramparts

To the Liberty Tower

Walking along the ramparts, with its aged lichen encrusted balustrades, you approach the corbelled stonework of the Liberty Tower. Built as part of the fortifications during the Hundred Years War this part of the lower ramparts of the Mont date from around the early fifteenth century.

Apocryphally the Hundred Years War actually lasted a hundred and sixteen years from 1337 to 1453 – one of those frequently encountered trivia questions designed to trip up the unwary (like I). The war was in fact a series of conflicts between the English and the French and was punctuated by brief periods of peace. It was fought over entitlement to the French throne following the extinction of the Capetian line of French monarchs, between the houses of Valois (France) and Plantagenet (English). The Plantaganet dynasty of course descended from the lineage of William the Conqueror, so claiming rights to both French and English thrones. Strangely one common thread between English and French (who to this day do not agree on much) is the French name for the period being the “Guerre de Cent Ans”, for once a direct translation of the English term. The final victory was to the French, but at enormous cost, and resulted in great enrichment of England. A winning of the war but a losing of the battle I guess.

A telescope on the tower provides the visitor a north easterly view across the sands of the bay (the tide being out) providing views of the town of Avranches – a town with close ties to the Mont as we shall shortly hear.

And that’s as far north into Basse-Normandie as I would see.

14 – Red Door

What’s that secret you’re keeping?

Continuing the walk to the abbey, and not for the first time in France, I was fascinated by mysterious red doors. Readers of Paris…In My Pocket! will recall the ‘door to nowhere’ at the Cluny Museum I wrote about – now, probably due mainly to the particular shade (a tint of oxidised red) painted on this and other doors at Mont St Michel my thoughts went straight back to Cluny. Gaining access to this one was however no mystery. The vegetated state of the granite steps indicated that they and the door are not frequently used, and the presence of the somewhat rusted metal pulley hoist left me wondering just what this building once housed. Perhaps it still does?

Notice in particular the detail of the ironmongery on the door. The ironwork and ‘hardware’ was to be a feature throughout the Mont that would attract my frequent attention, some of it certainly dating back to the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The blacksmithing workshops of both Brittany and Normandy are legendary and here this traditional craft is still practised. Although I never got to see it there is a museum in Rouen (Musée Le Secq des Tournelles) devoted to the craft.

The impeccable work of the Mont’s stonemasons is also again evident, with some signs of recent repair and repointing work having been done. There were frequent signs of ongoing maintenance around the buildings of the Mont - I trust it shall never again be left to deteriorate as it once was. Tourist revenues at the site must be significant, but so too will be the ongoing costs of maintenance ensuring that your entrance fee will assuredly be well spent. The steel window frames I mentioned yesterday are more clearly visible here, and the clarity of the glazing in the windows gives away the fact that they too are recent installations.

I have used this image in a series of sepia prints I did – it takes on a strongly religious feeling with such treatment … or was I beginning to feel the spiritual ambience of the Mont as we walked ever closer to the abbey?

Incidentally - I never did find out what happens behind that door.

13 – Out of Town

And going up ...

Catching up with the tour party, we had left the (now) commercial part of the town and had started past the stone houses and buildings on the way to the great outer staircase leading to the abbey.  The stonework in the buildings is decidedly the output of artisan masons, for it is amazing how regularly cut the stones appear to be, and the arched decorative motifs provide relief to the otherwise solid façades.  The window frames I noticed are mainly steel, indicating probably fairly recent replacement. An occasional half timbered house front can still be seen, I was told these are surviving remainders of the earlier and more original island houses, but could not find out what lies beyond their walls nowadays.

It is evident from both the weathering and construction techniques used that the walls of the ramparts of the mount predate the stonework of the buildings. These rampart walls are largely part of the fifteenth century defence system built around the town, supported by and incorporating the many towers and watchtowers such as the one we saw here earlier on our walk. Embrasures and arrow loops give way to wider openings allowing for the use of heavier artillery and cannons in defence – for it was now not just uprisings amongst the local population that Mont Saint Michel needed to defend itself against. Repeated attempts at invasion by the British starting in the fourteenth century demanded increasing the strength of fortifications, as did the later wars of religion when Protestants would attack this Catholic stronghold.

And looming ever present, visible from every angle is the Marvel – the Church and Abbey of St Michel. 

The climb continued.

12 – Move on

Down the road

Passing through the King’s Gate or Porte du Roi and continuing along the main street I could not help being attracted by the various houses I was walking past. Now home to the many shops, boutiques and restaurants each designed to lure the visiting wallets to the Mont I looked forwards to my return here after the abbey visit and to exploring these in more detail. You will note the extensive use of the ubiquitous granite blocks, which have been applied widely in building the Mont - but also to be found  are some fine preserved examples of half-timbered and shingle clad houses, such as those seen here. Known as the Artichoke House the building bridging the street is memorable. It is so named after the floret like edgings of the window casements and lower floor support.

These two latter forms of construction would have been typical of the earlier houses of the town, but being mostly in a sad state of disrepair and some destroyed by fire they were replaced by the buildings seen today, sympathetically constructed in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The Inn of the Unicorn (now a postcard and souvenir shop) seen on the right side of the picture is a typical example of half-timbered construction.

I mentioned yesterday that the original La Mère Poulard premises now house the modern day Post Office - this is the building below the flower filled garden boxes to the left of the scene.

My pace now quickened – for the group I was with had moved on from view. Could they not see what I was seeing? I guess, we had after all come to see an abbey. There would be time for taking pretty pictures later.

I hoped.

11 – Zoom

a closer look

Unashamedly - and I hope you’ll find justifiably - today’s image is actually a digital zoom into the previous shot of the street scene (thank goodness for today’s high definition cameras).

Having spoken in earlier posts of the gates one encounters making the trip up the Mont to the abbey, this second gate with its visible (if reproduction) portcullis is known as the Porte du Roi or King’s Gate. You’ll also see the posts and chains of a drawbridge. These too are not original, but somehow suit the scene! The film set analogy springs once more to mind. To compare how this looked in the late nineteenth century, an appealing sepia image of the gate from the Cornell University collection may be viewed here. (Use your back arrow to return to this page).

What does endure however and what I most want to draw to your attention is the sign indicating that you are the door of La Mère Poulard, home of arguably the most famous (and costly) omelettes in the world.

Annette Boutiaut came to the Mont St Michel in the 1870’s to serve as chambermaid to Sir Edouart Corroyer, the then head of historic buildings. Married to one Victor Poulard in 1871 the young couple took a lease in 1879 on one of the local auberges or inns, where Mme Poulard soon established a reputation of providing well for the many visiting pilgrims to the abbey. Prepared in hand beaten copper dishes and made to a secret recipe that from my observations of kitchen activity would have included dollops of butter and not a little cream - good for the soul if not the heart - La Mère Poulard’s most famous dish became the (not so) humble omelette. That first auberge now houses the local post office, and Annette’s original fireplace over which her famous egg dish would have been cooked is still to be seen. The inn moved into larger premises and today two hotels named after the Poulards accomodate visitors to the Mont.

The omelette is a widely available dish at many eateries on Mont St Michel – and prices elsewhere do not approach those of La Mère Poulard where you will be charged per hundred grams of your serving. With a minimum portion of two hundred and fifty grams as at the time of my visit, your stock of Euro’s will take something of a knock. Which begs the question – to eat or not to eat? Reasoning that I may not pass this way again, I ate. Filling and airy - more a soufflé than your regular hotel omelette - was it worth it? Let’s simply say I cannot recall any other meal I had during this visit to France - but then again I’m not sure I could afford to eat once more until I came home. Who cared?