Abbaye de Saint-Savin

Abbaye de Saint-Savin from the river-side garden

The church bells announced 2 o'clock and there was already a sizeable crowd of folks gathered outside the door to the abbey. Turned out they were nearly all French as well; France really does seem to keep it treasures well hidden from tourist eyes - anywhere else there would be queues of tour buses cluttering up the world for the rest of us. I am definitely not complaining; by the time I got round to visiting the church I had to share it with only one other person - that's the sort of crowds I can cope with. Considering this is one of the more import historical sites in France, there is not much pandering to international tourists: official audio guides, people guides and the majority of explanatory texts are all in French. There are one or two examples of multi-lingual leaflets and panels, but that's about it. Perhaps this just means all the funds have been invested in the site itself - sounds like a good plan! And the whole site is extraordinary!

Part of the refectory - where the monks ate together

I pockled about the gift shop for a bit browsing the books and waiting for milling "crowds" to disperse. After that I had the place mostly to myself, simply walking through an unmarked doorway into the stone stairwell up to the next floor. 

This part of the abbey was built or rebuilt in the 18th century but even so as a random part of the building it was fabulous: solid glowing white stone flooded with light from the large windows facing the river. It was as if this was just an ordinary set of stairs that you expected to be there. The only touristic piece of information was the explanation of why the stone stairs were so heavily worn - not from the monks but from gendarmes and their families who had been billeted in the abbey during the late 19th or early 20th century, their hob-nail boots had taken their toll.

The first floor contained monk's cells. These had been altered somewhat, some joined together with fireplaces added presumably to accommodate the gendarmes. Each had been furnished with grand displays describing some detail in the history of the abbey. In the hall I counted 13 doorways but I could not figure out how this grand building was designed to house only 13 monks; some redevelopment has clearly occurred through the years. In one of the displays is an idealised plan for the construction of an abbey prepared by that great Bangorian, St. Gall. On his plan, and indeed in the original layout of the abbey, there were huge gardens so the monks could be self-sufficient in food and herbal remedies; these needed much more than only 13 monks nevermind the other duties they had to perform. I remain baffled...

Fresco: Combat of Kings

Back on the ground floor is the refectory, just to emphasise how much room was required to feed all these monks. It is a huge space with a marvellous vaulted ceiling. Tucked away at one end is one of the original fresco panels from the church: it had been on the ceiling after the nave and almost above the alter. Seems the underlying barrel vault had started to deteriorate with a major crack appearing. So the painted plaster-work was removed and reassembled here. Rather fortunate, as it is very difficult to see the detail in the church. This panel, referred to as "Combat of Kings", represents Abraham leading the Israelite army against the army of the 3 Kings. Even after almost 1,000 years the quality of the work is quite amazing. And it prepares you for what is to come - the church itself.

Ceiling and nave of the abbey's church

Access to the church is through its main door facing the town square. There are frescoes on the ceiling of the porch, on the barrel vault of the nave and just before the alter. The church itself - like the church built by Eleanor of Aquitaine & Henry in Poitiers - is filled with light. It really is quite extraordinary. You need the brochure from the shop to explain the stories painted above your head; some such as Noah's ark are easy to interpret but since the frescoes are so high and have lost their original brightness and definition, and of course one's own knowledge of the Bible may be lacking - a few hints do not go amiss. The whole story from Genesis and Exodus is told in sequence.

To be honest I found the whole experience rather overwhelming and by the time I reached the church I was struggling to take it all in. Afterwards I took a moment sitting outside in a bit of a daze trying to process the information overload; I didn't succeed. Eventually I clambered back on the bike and drove straight home via Lussac de le Châteaux, Usson and Pressac. I was still a bit stunned and it has taken a day or two to recover and to realise I had missed a lot.

Fortunately I think I will be returning in the not too distant future with a few others to experience it all afresh. Now I will know to pace myself to really get the full experience of the Abbey and everything leading up to it.

Saint-Savin sur Gartempe

View of the abbey from the new bridge

Sunday morning. Today I managed to organise a croissant and coffee through the camp-site shop. Then it was packup time and get the bike loaded again. The underseat straps of the panniers were sagging a bit but to get the seat off meant untangling all the straps holding the panniers on. They were sitting clear of the exhaust OK and were solid enough when everything tied together so instead made a note to self.

The abbey in the town doesn't open till after lunch on Sunday so I planned to spend a couple of hours investigating the other wonders of Saint-savin. Drove into the main square before the abbey and set off walking with boots, helmet and jacket dangling off the bike. It was already getting too warm.

The old bridge between St.Germain & Saint-savin

Headed over the new bridge and got a better picture of the abbey. Looking down at the river flowing by, fish were swimming about, when I don't know how many frogs all started bellowing. I thought at first it was ducks but there were none about; couldn't find the frogs either, probably well hidden in the grassy bank.

Not far downstream is the old town bridge that used to link St.Germain to Saint-savin. It looks pretty good with the mansard roofed houses on the Saint-savin side. Took me a while to walk round there and as I was peering over the bridge, the blue-flash of a Kingfisher whizzed by; hunted everywhere to see if I could find it perched on a tree but no luck. Continued over the bridge and by now getting rather blasé about the quality of the medieval houses and streets - I have no more room in my head for these "ordinary" ancient stone buildings.

11th century church in St. Germain

Eventually walked down the avenue of trees between the abbey and the river to try and get some close-up external pictures of the abbey or the abbot's lodge at the opposite end from the church; it was more interesting to look at though it is in a pretty derlict state. On the river bank is a pink mill-house which has a glazed porch set over the wheel; sadly it too is pretty run-down. A couple of canoeists were attempting, vainly, to paddle up the mill-race in the wrong direction. It was that sort of lazy, warm day with nothing terribly important to be doing.

Continued down a wider avenue between the river and a residential quarter; mostly modern houses but some evidently repurposed and refurbished older stock. Just before the town road petered out to become a country road, on the other side of the river was the St.Germain church. Reportedly 11th century and although it did not look especially worthy, it definitely looked pretty with a lawn running down to the river and a couple of youthful weeping willows getting ready to dangle into the water. But it must be close to lunchtime, my stomach said; back to the town square for something to eat and sit in the sun waiting for the Abbey to open.

Antigny

Several times since Jouhet there were fingers-posts pointing to Château de Bois Morand as if it was somewhere one was expected to visit. The fourth one pointed off the road into a wood and seemed to be the destination of import. A quick u-turn and down the road I went.

Eglise in Antigny

The road soon became a track heading downhill with a 10 tonne warning sign. A left turn insisted no cars, motos or other wheeled vehicles were welcome; indeed the path seemed to lead into the yard in the centre of a group of private buildings. Nothing else was visible - a tall stone wall blocked what I took to be the château proper and a brick wall guarded farm buildings to the right; everything else was a dense wood. So the only way was forward, down the 10 tonne lane.

I expected the lane to take me down to the river somewhere but as I turned a right-angled corner, the track was littered from side-to-side with shattered glass; I decided to retreat! Attempting a 17-point 180° turn on a considerable slope with stones and ruts was testing; so much so that the bike decided I wasn't competent, threw me off and lay itself down in protest. The soft panniers prevented it going right down but still its dead weight represented something of a problem since as I tried to lift it up, it wanted to roll down the hill. After some heaving I managed to reach in and engage 2nd gear and then finally lifting it almost vertical before getting it properly under control.

Frescoes and under-roof of Antigny church

Once I had cooled down and blood-pressure had returned to normal, I remounted and got outta there. I suspect I had missed a trick; certainly looking at google maps and a few articles, it seems this château has something of a reputation but is not open to the public. Who knows why there is a need for sign-posts to lead you there. Onward to Antigny.

Antigny's church is located on an unexpected chicane - driving a horse & cart wouldn't cause a problem but any other sort of vehicle needs to take care. Also, on the way into the village you pass a local museum; I decided not to check it out but information inside the church indicated it might have some interesting objects including some archaeological treasures.

Medieval lantern in Antigny

From the doorway, the church is clearly early-medieval although not especially remarkable. To the right is a covered area which supposedly is where parishioners would gather before or after church services to gossip about village life. The bell tower and its tiny spire are likely later additions. Inside is very interesting! The frescoes of course are impressive though they are fading and difficult to make out. The roof or ceiling is very unusual though. A few simple supports between the walls reach up to the apex of the ceiling - these supports are unusually light especially given the medieval tendency to over engineer structures. The ceiling itself is shaped almost as a barrel vault except it is made of wood. At first glance they look just like regular voliges but then compare the arched shaped of the interior ceiling and the external, steep roof. It would be very interesting to see how the roof is actually held up! 

A couple of information panels inside the church describe the frescoes and mention the structure across the road on the common; it looks like a war memorial but actually is a medieval lantern.

Jouhet

A "green man" in Jouhet church perhaps?

Jouhet is a pretty, sleepy village on the east bank of La Gartempe. Most of the buildings in the town have some quirky feature about them - a first-floor "veranda", carved balustrade along the garden path, stone-mullioned window frames, hipped roofs, ornate chimney stacks or whatever. It already exuded character without the commune having to lift a finger. The main road heads toward a bridge over the river but before actually crossing the river,  turns sharp right to follow the eastern bank - as if the bridge leads to some unknowable place.

And on the way in to the village, the local shop, bar, tabac, restaurant all conveniently in one building was thronged with locals getting ready for Saturday lunch. Perfect timing - I decided to join them, a popular local eatery is always a good recommendation. A good choice it was too. The bar also acted as "guardian of the key" which gave access to the funerary where the frescoes lived.

Frescoes in Jouhet funerary

After lunch, I dandered toward the town square before the marie, the church, the bridge and the funerary. The church door faced the river with a narrow lane on one-side separating it from a row of houses, the biblioteque and the marie. Inside was quite plain and somehat disappointing as I had been expecting a painted ceiling. The arch before the alter was supported by a pair of half-columns one of which had a "grotesque" face; this i took to be an example of a stylised green man perhaps representing some elemental pagan spirit. Not usually as prominent and plain as this example though.

Outside again, I crossed the road to the funerary. I suspect this part of the village has gone through some restructuring over time; a funerary would usually be placed at the centre of the graveyard to be used for funerals and similar occasions - no sign at all of any gravestones. The exterior of the building was indeed quite austere but as soon as I unlocked the door, flooding the interior with light - the frescoes were extraordinary!

Jouhet funerary

These frescoes represented scenes from the bible usually designed for the illiterate majority. These particular paintings had been commissioned in the 15th century by a local count and the same artisan was employed in Antigny and other locations heading towards Saint-savin so their style would be quite similar. 

It was especially pleasant in Jouhet - I took a shine to the place - enjoying the heat of the afternoon and the tranquillity of the village. But I had to be moving, so I dropped the key back with the "guardian" and set off again. Crossing the bridge, I turned right to follow the left bank of the river north to Antigny. The roads here were proper twisty country roads; sadly they were short-lived before joining up with the main drag between Lussac-les-Château and Saint-savin - well it did have a white-line down the middle of the road!

Montmorillon

Back at Lathus, took the road for Saulgé following the left bank of the river. The church in Saulgé is the first (or last) in the series for frescoes; I was tempted to stop but time was getting on and I reckoned it would be better to setup camp and spend the evening exploring Montmorillon which had 3 fresco sites and other interesting stuff. Saulgé got deferred then till another day. Next stop was the campsite at Montmorillon.

Exposed roof timbers

Montmorillon is a pretty, large town, about twice the size of Ruffec, with a medieval centre and modern commerce on the outskirts of the town. By the time I had pitched camp, sourced grub for dinner and devoured same, everything in the old town had closed. I don't think folks had quite gotten in to the way of tourists just yet, no-one was at all keen to cater for them.

Exposed wall timbers

The modern centre is on the east bank of the river tucked away among narrow, ancient cobbled streets. There is a good mixture of modern and old buildings in the main square. As I arrived, the local judo or karate club had commandeered the steps of the tourist office and were presenting prizes, cups and awards to their junior members (all primary-school aged kids) all sitting around judo mats surrounded by parents and grand-parents while the officials boomed their praise over a loud PA system. I spotted a curry-shop on one corner but it was shut for some reason. It was on the corner of a street that led to the old bridge.

Eglise Notre Dame above the old city

La Gartempe flows through town and the traditional approach was over the old bridge from the east (where the campsite is) right into the old centre. The style of houses is unlike the Charente - no pantiles, instead simple plain red flat tiles with the roofes relatively steep and a bit of a flare at the bottom. Either side of the bridge, the buildings have their timber frames and the gable-end carpentery exposed. Despite their evident age, the buildings and the streets are all in good repair - not at all dishevelled as in Confolens.

On the other side of the bridge a cascade of buildings descend from the spire of the Eglise Notre-Dame to the level of the river bank. This side of the river also has narrow cobbled lanes meandering up and down through the heart of the old town. Montmorillon promotes itself as the Cité de l'Écrit and scattered among the maze of streets and lanes are lots of small bijou shops dedicated to the art of l'écrit - sometimes rather loosely. They were all closed already - the shutters came down at 5pm it seems.

It turns out - I discovered the next day - this self-styled "Cité de l'Écrit" is a modern invention - since the 90's in fact. Worse the idea had been invented in Wales at Hay-on-Wye! Despite this, Montmorillon does have a sound history associated with the book trade with the surrounding area using the river in the production of paper. The town became especially renowned for its production of large wall maps, the sort they used to have in every school. Other claims to fame are museums on macaroons and office equipment (typewriters). All this I missed; it will have to wait till I return.

Eglise Saint Laurent, part of the Maison Dieu

The next day, rather than trying to visit the various fresco sites, I preferred to head toward Saint-Savin itself taking in the villages of Jouhet and Antigny on the way. Before I left, I did locate the local brewery - a small affair hidden away in an industrial estate - and the Eglise Saint Laurant. This church formed part of the Maison Dieu a large religious complex that served variously as an hospitalier for pilgrims and, much later, a Jesuit seminary. The Maison Dieu, along with the Eglise Notre Dame, house the 15th century frescoes.

Access was not open though I did not try too hard, keen to get on the road again. I was hoping one of the villages would have a decent restaurant for a proper lunch.

Saintes

The city of Saintes sits astride the Charente as it edges closer to the sea. An ancient city from when the Romans used it as their first capital of Aquitaine. Indeed as you approach the eastern bank, as we did, you cannot miss the Arc de Germanicus. The arch sits rather incongruously in a large open space by the bank of the river. It originally sat before the bridge crossing into the old town but was moved when a new, wider bridge was commissioned in the 19th century.

After the Romans, the city was the capital of the province of Saintonge in turn giving its name to Saintongeais, one of the many Langue d'oïl languages spoken throughout the northern part of the Frankish Kingdom as vestiges of linqua romana.

Saint Peters

Steeple of St. Peters

There are several churches in Saintes but Saint Peters is the oldest and nominated as a cathedral. In fact, for centuries, it was the only church named after Peter except for the one in Rome. In its early days, it was the church for the local abbey and has evidently been added to over the years; the steeple and bell tower is adorned now with little minarets on top of the buttresses. Today it is surrounded by little, narrow streets hiding it from view most of the time so it is difficult to really get a sense of it as a whole.

The church is also the origin of the Angelus - the regular pealing of the bells in the morning, at mid-day and in the evening. Originally the bells summoned the monks to their prayers and, as our own church does in Alloue, after ringing the time, the bells peal three times three starting with the smallest; finally the great bell will ring perhaps 60 times or more. Since medieval times, bells were often inscribed with the start of the devotion

Angelus Domini nuntiavit Mariæ,
Et concepit de Spiritu Sancto.

or in English

The Angel of the LORD declared unto Mary,
And she conceived of the Holy Ghost.

and so each peal symbolically rings out the prayer, the first word giving a name to the devotion and the peal.

Although the devotion itself originates in Italy, the pattern of the bells has a less certain heritage though it is generally accepted that it originates with Pope Urban II (1035-1099) and with Saint Peters in particular. Pope Urban was visiting Saintes and was much taken with their practice of ringing the bells in the morning 6:00, at mid-day 12:00 and in the evening 18:00. So much so that when the first crusade departed in 1095, he decreed that the bells of all Christian churches should ring so that all Christians might share in prayer with the crusaders as they travelled into battle in the Holy Land. A marvellous idea, despite their inability to synchronise time across Europe and into the Near East.

So it is that Saintes can claim the honour of creating the Angelus. It has been modified several times over the centuries frequently being forgotten about too. Nor has it been the sole preserve of the Roman Church but has drifted into both Anglican and Lutheran churches. Indeed, in a largely secular modern Ireland when RTE attempted to stop their daily ringing of the Angelus at 6pm on its prime TV service, a national uproar ensued demanding its reinstatement; it had become as much a part of Irish identity as the harp on an Irish passport.

Roman Amphitheatre

Above the Arena

When we arrived in Saintes, it was a startlingly bright and hot day. The white stone of the arch, bridge and environs  reflecting the sun, forcing our eyes shut. I think this is why we gave up on the Roman artefacts museum and instead retired to our hotel and later preferred to wander the streets of the old town sipping beer and nibbling tapenades. The next morning, evidently feeling more energetic, we set off in search of the remains of the roman amphitheatre; it wasn't far.

This isn't the only surviving example of roman arenas in France nor is it an especially well preserved example. Nonetheless, as with many French national monuments you can wander and explore as you wish. Given a fertile imagination it is not at all difficult to envisage how the structure worked. Despite our common understanding of these roman arenas - from the film "Gladiator" for example, and even pictures of the Colosseum in Rome - functionally they are not terribly complex structures being made rather quickly and cheaply. And yet they acquire an excellence all their own.

In the Arena looking towards St Eutrope

I suppose modern day stadiums are not much different. We don't see the rough slabs of concrete and coarse reinforced blocks - instead we see the glint of gold medals, silver cups hoisted high, mexican waves and triumphs of passion.

There is definitely something disjoint between these two aspects of sporting arenas.

Keep that thought in mind!

Eglise Saint Eutrope

The exit of the arena leads down the hill fed by the "vomitoriums" - through back yards, vegetable gardens and allotments - even now I can feel the press of bodies, the sounds of tramping feet, the daze of victory or loss as my father led me away from great Windsor Park or the scrambles to get a seat and a pint after a match at Landsdowne Road.

As it was, we were vomited forth - with maybe a couple of other tourists - into the street right outside the great Eglise Saint Eutrope.

Steeple of St Eutrope

This is another old church but with a distinctly austere aspect from the base of its muscular steeple to its imposing entrance porch - the 30 foot tall doors designed to remind you where your place is in the scheme of things.

Inside is a little bit softer. Medieval churches - being in the dark ages - are surprisingly bright; and since most were repossessed after the revolution, 19th century morés have been unable to dim them. There are some fabulous stained glass windows in a very modern style - 20th century to my mind - but don't worry about dates; trying to figure when this one was built is rather difficult - should it matter.

Entrance to Crypt

Its curiosity is that it is built upon the plan of an older church. The guts of the upper building is 15th century whereas what has become the "crypt" dates back to perhaps the 9th century. An anonymous door at the foot of the steeple, below the level of the regular church gives admission to this ancient monument. As you get deeper into the crypt the architecture seems to age before your eyes as you descend into some Dantéan labyrinth.

Deep in the Crypt

And this brings us back to that dichotomy between what is and what has been. The scale of the crypt lit by dimness and concealing perhaps the sarcophagus of Saint Eutrope himself; was this a delicate memorial to medieval Christianity on a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compestella? Or was this displaced by the austerity of the church above, lit by the purity of the blue, red and yellow window lights which can only be seen by passing through a 30 foot door of massive wood and steel bolts. And all the time the bells peal above our head linking us with the pilgrims as they slaughter the defenders of Jerusalem.

To be sure religion is complicated but it is rare for a structure to articulate that complexity - in its innocence  striving towards greater "grace". Is this building the converse of the amphitheatre - an exuberance of the mason's art buried by a future sternness - what is that grimness hiding? a self-loathing, corrupt vision of the church as oppressor or perhaps a simple expression of the futility of man.

There are many houses of god in France, most of them frozen in time by a revolution in search of a secular liberté, fraternité, egalité - perhaps one of them has the answer.

St. Thegonnec

Entrance portal

Ossary

Calvary

locally carved "statue and dog"

Pipe Organe

Pulpit

Carved baulestrade surrounding the alter

side-panel

side-panel details

opened story box

Guimiliau Calvary

approach from entrance portal

beset by demons

detail

corner

front central detail

rear central detail

rear detail

view from ossary

Guimiliau

Entrance portal

door way

entrance

entrance

baptistry

pulpit

organ pipes

slaying a devel