“What you see now was built over several centuries, culminating in the dome with the gilded statue of Saint Michael.”
“According to legend, the Archangel Michael told the good bishop to build a church,” Kris whispered. “The bishop ignored the angel and he burned a hole in the bishop's skull. The Saint's skull, with a hole in it, can be seen in one of the churches.”
“It's never good to piss off an archangel,” James commented, as the driver continued her introduction to the abbey.
“The abbey has been a fortress, a sanctuary, a hospital, and prison. The ramparts were built to defend against the English. It should be noted that it has never been conquered.
“In later centuries, the Benedictine monks lived here in several private chambers that you will see, depending on the tour you take. At the base of the abbey is the town of Mont St. Michel, where you will find food, and accommodations for those staying on the island. The omelets are an island specialty, once served to pilgrims who required a quick meal—their own fast food—before continuing their travels.” This brought laughter among the tourists.
“The causeway that connects the island is under water at certain times during the day. Unfortunately,” she continued, “many have lost their lives to the quicksand and unpredictable tides. We ask that you do not attempt to cross over to the mainland on foot across the tidal basin, especially at night. It can be very treacherous.”
They crossed the mile-long causeway, the shuttle slowing as it reached the island terminal, and the driver announced the last departure time.
“The last shuttle of the evening departs the island at nine o'clock this evening. Several tours of the island and abbey are offered. The abbey is open until eight pm. There are private residences that date from the 13th and 14th centuries that are now part of the museum tours. Please check the tour schedule. Enjoy your stay.”
Years before, when the abbey had been on Kris’s list of places to visit that summer after college, it had seemed just one more gothic church on a list of several. There had been the usual tour, the curator—very much like a docent of a museum—pointing out the usual points of interest, and providing the usual history ofsea battles, assaults by the English across the channel, and the construction by William the Conqueror as a fortress almost a thousand years ago.
There was the usual display of cannon along the rampart and the various residences that dated back to the fourteenth century, but there was no mention of another story that was part of the history of the abbey, about a young woman who had defied her father, retreated to the island fortress, and created a tapestry that held a secret almost seven hundred years later.
They stopped at the tourist office, and asked for the director. Cate had made two calls to the tour office. The director remembered speaking with her.
“Yes, of course. Most unfortunate about the accident. Ms. Ross met with Brother Thomas when she was here. It was for a book she was thinking of writing. He is an authority on the abbey and the history of the island. “
She and James exchanged a look.
“Is he here today?” she asked.
“He is conducting evening mass. It started just a short while ago. I can let him know that you want to speak with him.”
He took out a cell phone and sent a text message—new age meets the old world, Kris thought, thanking him.
With a little less than an hour until evening mass ended, they followed visitors on the Grand Rue, the main street with shop and restaurants, then along the sea wall, the lane climbing steadily toward private residences and the island museums.
According to the tour they followed, there were four museums on the island—a maritime museum that explored the tidal phenomenon that had protected the island fortress for over a thousand years, the archeoscope where visitors could view a stunning technological presentation that explained the convergence of faith, history, and legend in a light show, according to the promotional brochure, and the history museumthat was like taking several steps back in time, with life-size wax models, true-to-life reconstructions, displays of weapons of the time including those used for torture.
“Just your average day at the office,” Kris remarked at the grisly scenes that had been recreated and left little to the imagination.
They followed the tour as they wound their way along a narrow lane that slowly climbed to a row of private residences.
According to the signage at the entrance of a two-story residence, it was almost completely intact as it had been in the 14th century, including furnishings, crockery, and wall hangings. A young woman dressed in period costume provided visitors with the narrative of what life was like on the island in the 14th century.
“Everything you see about the island, everything needed for the households of the time, inns, the abbey, had to be brought over from the mainland by cart, including all the granite stonework you see that was quarried on the mainland and then brought over the causeway that was nothing more than ocean bed when the tide went out. Construction of the abbey began in the eleventh century, and has been rebuilt over the centuries due to loss from fire of the early wood structures, poor early construction, and expansion to include the abbey.
“The island fortress was originally commissioned by William the Conqueror, who was Norman,” she continued. “And you will find many carvings, motifs, and original weaponry that has survived. Construction over the centuries include Norman, Gothic, and Romanesque architecture. This residence was built in the mid fourteenth century. We ask that you stay behind the rope barriers in the interest of preservation of the artifacts and furnishings.”
They followed the tour from the main room with the carved stone at the threshold that gave the year 1342 as the year theresidence was built. According to what Vilette Moreau had told them, that would have been after Isa Raveneau returned from Spain.
The residence had dark wood floors with mahogany window casements, the windows looking out onto the gardens they had passed. The furnishings were also mahogany, a large corner cabinet, armchairs with leather seats and backs, all the wood painstakingly carved with elaborate designs—scrollwork, floral motifs, carvings of birds and animals. This was no common worker's residence.
The kitchen had been painstakingly preserved with wood counters, a large stone hearth and oven, a huge copper pot that hung over the raised hearth, and crockery that lined the shelves. Fake vegetables lay on the countertop along with several fake plucked chickens, and added to the imagination of what it might have been like centuries past.
The rooms on the main floor were common rooms, fascinating with their period furnishings and utensils that provided a glimpse into the everyday life of the residents of the island. But the private bedchamber on the second floor was far more intimate.
The walls were those same granite stones and the floor was wood, but a large area rug filled the center of the room. The bed and other furnishings had been roped off.
As with the furnishings in the common rooms, the furniture was rich, dark mahogany, including the large, canopied bed with bed hangings. The headboard and bed frame had all been carved with delicate designs from nature. A cabinet that stood in the corner was also mahogany with a floral design carved into the doors.
An arched stone doorway was opposite the bed, and an arched window casement included a large brass urn at the window seat. The windows looked out on the gardens below andthe bay beyond. A large hearth filled the opposite wall of the room.
