St-Guilhem-le-Désert

Today I went to St-Guilhem-le-Désert, an ancient medieval village situated among extraordinarily large hills and ravines.  The Minnesota program organized a free excursion there and, since the village came highly recommended by nearly every guide book I have seen for this region, I knew that I could not pass it up.

History

Saint Guilhem was the grandson of Charles Martel, one the most important early founders of what would become France, and a cousin of Charlemagne, who would conquer and unify nearly the entirety of what is now present day France and Belgium and a large majority of Germany.  Guilhem was the Count of Toulouse, the Duke of Aquitaine and the Marquis of Septimanie, which is an impressive collection of estates.  He was a famous chevalier, or knight, and was famed for his prowess in battle.  He made a name for himself fighting the Muslim Moors, who swept up through Spain from Northern Africa.  He played an influential role in the Reconquest of Spain and the capture of Barcelona.

After the long, bloody war, Guilhem and his knights began to wonder about how they would ever achieve heaven since their entire lives’ work was killing, which is expressly prohibited by their holy book.  After the death of his wife, Guilhem decided that he would forsake the world, his fame, and his exhorbitant wealth, and he found a very remote spot amidst the massive hills and ravines of the south of France.  The abbey which built was named after him, Saint Guilhem Desert. The “Desert” part of the name does not refer to an actual physical geographic desert, but at the time refered to the area being a desert in terms of human contact.  It was very remote and rather hard to reach.  The abbey became a major pilgrimage destination over the years, for it is said that a piece of the True Cross resides there.  Charlemagne was given a piece of the True Cross, upon which the Catholic Church believes that Jesus Christ was crucified.  Charlemagne gave a fragment of his piece to his cousin, who brought it to his abbey.  So, for years pilgrims would come and beg miracles from this relic and from the bones of the Saint interred below the altar.  Lending volume to the traffic of pilgrims was the fact that the abbey was not far away from a major pilgrimage route that wound its way through Southern France to Spain.

They Abbey was closed during the French Revolution, when the National Assembly passed a law that cut State financing for religious institutions.  Much of the abbey’s property was taken by the State and sold.  There was a terrible flood in 1907, where the flood waters rose to as high as two meters (6.56 feet).  The force of the water filled the abbey and permanently damaged the paintings that had hung there and, worse, swept away the remains of St. Guilhem.  All that was recovered of the patron of the monastery was his tibia and another leg bone, which the Pope verified in his infallibleness as truly belonging to the saint.  So now the two relics are kept in an ornate container in an alcove near the altar, opposite the fragment of the True Cross.  Today, the abbey is kept by an order of Carmelite nuns.

I found the abbey to very overwhelming.  I am not overly spiritual, and am Lutheran to boot, but the experience of being in such an ancient, religious site to be very moving.  It is hard to describe precisely.  The fact that the abbey had been built in 804 and had been a center for worship for over a thousand years impacted me greater than I expected. 

Leading to the village, we had to cross over a very large, deep ravine with a swiftly moving river at the bottom.  Spanning this chasm nearby the automobile bridge was the ancient Pont du Diable, or Devil’s Bridge.  It was constructed in 837, according recent research done by the University of Montpellier, probably in a joint agreement between the abbey of Gellone (as Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert is also known) and the abbey of Aniane.  The story goes that after the first day of construction, the workers went home and when the returned the next morning, something had destroyed all of their progress.  So they started over, went home, and came back the next morning to find the same thing had happened.  After a while, the builders decided to hide at night and see what was destroying their work.  After night had fallen, they saw the devil himself appear and start to tear apart their hard day’s labor.  They emerged and confronted him.  Apparently, the devil did not like the fact that the bridge would improve access to the two monasteries.  The workers offered to make a pact with the devil: if he would build the bridge for them, then he could have the soul of the first creature to cross the bridge.  The devil, having a penchant for deals, thought that a guaranteed soul was well worth the effort, built the whole bridge in one night.  When the workers came the next morning, the were astonished to find the bridge as it stands today, fully completed and sound, with the devil waiting for them to collect his soul.  He stood, grinning ear to ear, wondering who they send over first.  One of the workers took a piece of meat out of his pocket and hurled it across the span of the bridge.  Suddenly, one of their dogs burst from the group and chased after the meat across the bridge.  The devil realized what they had done.  The wording of the pact had been for the soul of the first creature to cross the bridge, not the first man.  Filled with rage, the devil went howling down into the ravine and caused the river to flow in a furious torrent, as it does today.  So goes the story, in any case.

I found the village to be incredibly beautiful.  I can now easily see what it was named the most beautiful village in France.  I took many pictures, which I will find some of posting soon, so look for those.  After the tour, several people from my group went off to climb the massive hills that overlook the town and the abbey.  It was quite a hike, off the path and over rocks (almost like Connor in the third Assassin’s Creed game’s wilderness settings), but it was a breathtaking vista more than worth the climb.  It is hard to put into words and is one of those life experiences that you just need to live in order to get the full experience of it.  I am very sad that my pictures won’t do it justice.  But, it was a very fun expedition and a great day overall.