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Authors: H.J. Gaudreau

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BOOK: H.J. Gaudreau - Betrayal in the Louvre
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“What does that mean?” Jim asked.

“We shall know it soon,” LeDuc said.  He then tipped the tube and a rolled scroll, with a purple ribbon around it slid out.  He caught it in his left hand and gently sat it on the table.  LeDuc then immediately disappeared below his table.  Jim and Eve nervously eyed the scroll, then each other, then their gaze returned to the scroll.  LeDuc reappeared wearing white cotton gloves and holding a folded piece of black velvet.  He sat the tube aside, unfolded the velvet and placed it on the table.  Then, he gently placed the scroll on top of the cloth.  After a short examination with a magnifying glass he began to gently untie the ribbon.  At last it fell free and the scroll began to unroll.  It was made of leather, not paper.  Around the edge was a gentle painting of flowers, all white lilies.  At the top, in the center was the fleur-de-lis.  In the center of the scroll was a painting of a tree, its branches intertwined and extending from a thick trunk.  On each branch was a miniature portrait with a name below it.  At the foot of the tree was a beheaded serpent and a sword.  Under the tree were several lines of text in the same ornate script as the names on the tube. 

LeDuc sat stunned.  His hands began to shake.  Jim and Eve could only stare at the beautiful and unusual document.  Monsieur LeDuc took his magnifying glass and silently began to read.  Finally, he stood, walked around the table and gripped Eve by the shoulders.  “Madame” he said, kissing her on each cheek then releasing her and gripping Jim the same way, “Monsieur…you have the Royal Patent of the Dauphin of France.”

Jim and Eve looked at each other.  Neither understood what LeDuc was saying.  The man’s excitement couldn’t be contained, his voice raising in pitch he said, “Madame, here…” he pointed at the fleur-de-lis in the top center of the scroll, “this is key…this document she is of the royal French family.  See here the fleur-de-lis?  This is the sign of French royalty since King Clovis the First.  And, see here…”  he pointed at a portrait of a young boy.  “the Dauphin.  You have the Royal Patent of the Dauphin himself!”

Eve turned to Jim then back to LeDuc, “I’m fairly certain we’re not talking about a fish, so please tell me what a Dauphin is?” 

“Madame, yes in a strange way we are referring to the fish.  You see, every member of the royal family he has his own coat of arms.  The oldest male child of the King, he is next in line for the thrown, no?  On his coat of arms swim a pair of the dauphins.  So, it has always been tradition to refer to him as The Dauphin.  You understand now, no?” 

Jim looked at Eve.  “Hon, I think this is a very big deal.  He’s saying this is a very historical document.  I’ll bet this is an important thing.”  Turning back to LeDuc he said, “Monsieur LeDuc, can you tell us which Dauphin this applies to?”

“Wait, are there more than one?” Eve asked, still confused.

“Ah, oui, of course,” LeDuc said immediately.  “You see, madame, it is always so.  It is always the oldest living son of the living King.  When the King dies, his son, the Dauphin, he becomes the King, no?  And his son, he becomes the next Dauphin.  If the boy dies, and he has a younger brother then the younger brother becomes the Dauphin, you see?”

Eve nodded.  She could see the excitement on LeDuc and her husband’s face.  As she looked around she also could see that LeDuc’s initial reaction had not gone unnoticed by the many passers by.  A crowd had begun to develop.  Already people were leaning over Jim’s shoulder trying to get a better look. 

John Taylor, being a bright young man, immediately radioed for additional security.  In short order two off duty Detroit police officers were at their sides.  LeDuc gently put the document in a lay-flat case.  The tube went into a separate case.  John Taylor, the guards, Monsieur LeDuc, Jim and Eve then made their way to the show offices and a vault. 

After securing their treasures they convened in the office of the Cobo Convention Center manager.  Mr. David Shilling, the show director, was using this office as his own during the show week.  He had never been associated with the find of an antique of this value and he wanted to know more. 

Soft drinks and snacks were brought in and the key players convened around the office couch and sitting chairs.  Shilling wanted to hear the whole story.  Monsieur LeDuc began with an explanation of the significance of a Royal Patent, and how they were used to document royal blood. 

“It is not the word ‘patent’ like your inventor Thomas Edison made.  No, the word is…ahhh, ahhhh….” LeDuc searched his excited mind for the correct English translation.  “The word she means the ‘open book’ in Latin.  It is a proof.  It is the document, the royal, or noble provides to their betters to prove they are a royal or noble.  You see?” 

Shilling leaned forward, “You mean to keep someone from impersonating a knight or a prince?”

“Exact!” cried LeDuc.  “There was no television, no glamour magazine, so when a noble went from city to city no one knew him.  Proof must be provided, you understand?”

“Got it,” said Jim.  “But why would the king, or even the king’s son need one?  Everyone knew who the king was I’m sure.”

LeDuc frowned, “I must confess, I do not know.”

Unfazed by this minor setback LeDuc continued with his story.  “The Royal Patents were rarely seen and then only by the church.  They were never seen by the public,” he said.

Then, as if it were not obvious enough, he stressed that French Royal Patents are extremely rare and extremely valuable.  There are two reasons for this.  The first is the simple fact that not many have survived. 

“There are none, all of the known Royal Patents, they were destroyed by the barbarians during the revolution,” he cried.

LeDuc explained this was an attempt to destroy the entire concept of royalty in France.  Only a few of the Patents belonging to the lesser nobles were still in existence.  Remarkably, one Royal Patent from the family of King Louis XVI existed, that of a cousin.  It had been stored in a wooden tube, the acids in the wood slightly damaging the leather over time.  The owner had been particularly astute in national politics and fled to Germany in time to salvage his fortune before the revolution.  He never returned to France. 

The second reason a French Royal Patent is so valuable is its sheer beauty.  The Patent on display in Berlin is breathtaking for its detail and technical artistry.  Portraits of each of the major members of the royal family and the pertinent family branch are rendered with remarkable realism.  Art historians and other scholars from throughout Europe have used this particular document as the source document for identifying specific individuals in various artworks across the continent.  

The Patent in the Cobo Center’s vault was extraordinary in that the entire Royal line was illustrated.  Each member of the royal line had their portrait painted in miniature.  The historical value, should it prove authentic, was astonishing.  The scroll was bordered with a bright, highly detailed painting of lilies and the central family tree was a beautifully done apple tree, a beheaded serpent lay at its roots and a sword dripping of the serpent’s blood hovered over the body. 

Monsieur LeDuc tended to focus his dissertation on Eve, to the exclusion of the men around the room.  He was in his element.  The excitement of the original discovery had not dissipated and he was obviously flirting with her. 

“The sword, she is important.  She represents the beginning of the French monarchy.  She is not the Holy Sword of the Redeemer.  No, she is the Sword of Charlemagne.  This represents the destruction of evil, represented by the serpent.  And the tree, it represents the royal line.  See how it takes its glow from the sword,” LeDuc continued.

Jim and Eve were then pressed to tell how the Patent came into their possession.  “There’s really not much we know.” Jim said.  He then explained that his Great grandfather had fought in the First World War and had returned from Europe with the item.  It had been kept in a box in his Mother’s house for years and after his sister had taken over the home he had moved the box to his own home. 

As the evening wound to a close David Shilling leaned forward in his chair and locked eyes with each of them, “You know Eve, Jim, you have an amazing find there.  It could make you very wealthy.  But, and this is a ‘big but’; you’re going to have to get this thing verified before you can sell it.  It could be a fake.  Even though you’ve had it for eighty years someone could have fooled your Great grandfather.” 

Jim was stunned.  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Who would do something like that and why?” asked Eve.  Shilling turned to Eve, “Oh Eve, it happens all the time.  Just think of P.T. Barnum and his famous Mermaid.  Many, many of the items in his, so called “museum” were out and out lies and forgeries.  Even his famous saying “there’s one born every minute” wasn’t really said by him! 

They both started to laugh.  Then Jim grew serious, glancing at LeDuc to ensure he wasn’t listening he said; “I guess you’ve got a good point David.  But isn’t LeDuc’s verification good enough?” 

David turned serious.  “No, LeDuc is an expert in French historical items, but this is beyond his level.  I’m not so sure LeDuc is the man for this job.”

Jim thought that over for a moment.  “I agree, just in the short time we’ve dealt with him I get the impression he’s a…well, let’s just say a bit over the top and leave it like that.” 

Eve leaned forward and lowered her voice as well, “I agree, LeDuc isn’t my first choice.  Do you have anyone you could recommend to validate this thing?”  

“Well, all I can think of is a professor of French history I know over at the U,” Shilling said, referring to the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor.  “I’ll call him tomorrow morning and set up an appointment for you.”

They spent a few minutes discussing Dr. Bill Rousseau at the University; then they made the obligatory comments on the school’s football and hockey teams, the upcoming Ohio game and other traditions of the area.  Soon, fatigue began to creep into the room and it was clear everyone wanted to go home or at least to their hotel room.  Eve mentioned it was late, and they all quickly agreed.  Shortly thereafter the conclave began to break up.  Shilling showed everyone out of his office and ante-room and said good-night. 

Eve and Jim headed to the garage. 

John Taylor went home to tell his girlfriend of his day’s adventure.

Raymond LeDuc went to make a phone call.

 

Chapter 9

 

That Sunday afternoon, Jim and Eve drove home.  Like most farmers Jim kept his hunting rifle and his shotguns locked in a tall metal cabinet known as a ‘gun safe’ in his basement.  It was here that he placed the tube and its precious contents.  They spent a nervous night knowing they had a possible fortune in the basement.  They would feel much better once the items were stored in their safety deposit box at the bank.  But first, they had to have these things authenticated.  On Monday morning Eve took a vacation day and they drove to Ann Arbor to meet with Dr. Rousseau. 

Fall is the best time of the year on the University of Michigan campus.  The trees on central campus are bursting with colour.   The “Diag,” so named for two diagonal walkways crisscrossing a large square in the central campus park area is filled with students and various groups passing out fliers; everything from “Save the Planet” to “Stop the War.”  Banners screamed “Beat Ohio State” and still more solicited attendance at lectures by various experts on subjects as diverse as “Gay Health” to “America in a Changing Economic and Cultural Millennium.”  What Jim and Eve always found so interesting was how the local Young Democrats could pass out literature on one corner, the Young Republicans on the opposite, then the two meet for pizza at Pizza Bobs on State Street afterward.  It truly was an eclectic place. 

Dr. William Rousseau, the man Shilling had recommended, had agreed to see them late in the afternoon that Monday.  Dr. Rousseau was an expert on French history and specialized in what he called the “transitional period” from King Louis XIV, through the end of the Bourbon Restoration and the fall of Louis-Philippe I.  He had written several well-respected books and, as is increasingly the norm, had published many articles in various blogs and other web sites devoted to his particular area of expertise.  They found his small office in the basement of Rackham Hall.  The office, contrary to the image most have of a university professor, was neat and tidy with a pair of plain chairs facing a moderate sized desk.  Behind him was a credenza with his computer monitor ensconced in a fairly good-sized bookcase.  The three other walls were lined with bookcases as well. 

Bill, as he preferred to be called, appeared to be near fifty years old and of average build with a salt and pepper beard and hair.  They shook hands all-round and were directed to the two chairs.  Bill listened closely to their story, stopping them only twice to ask a question and never interrupting the flow of the narrative.  Finally, the story at its current end, he sat back in his chair and asked to see the tube and the Royal Patent. 

Eve reached to the floor, picked up her large, oversized purse and pulled out, what appeared to be a cardboard tube.  Removing the top she turned to Jim and waited.  Jim, feeling a bit embarrassed by the procedure, removed a pair of white cotton gloves from his pocket and put them on.  Simultaneously, Eve took a rolled up piece of cloth from her purse.  Bill removed a few items from his otherwise neat desktop and Eve laid out the cloth.  Jim slid the tube from within the cardboard onto the cloth.  Then he removed a paper clip from his pocket, straightened it and opened one end of the tube as he’d been shown the night before.  He then removed the leather scroll, placed the tube to the side and unrolled the Patent on the cloth. 

Bill removed a large magnifying glass from his desk and said, “I’m impressed, you handled the document exactly as a museum curator would.  Who showed you?”

“David Shilling, over at the antique auction.  He said it would keep our skin oils off the leather,” Jim replied.

Rousseau bent over the document and began to glass various portraits.  “He’s correct, very important to preserve this if its authentic,” he muttered, obviously deep in thought.

Several silent minutes passed.  Rousseau occasionally muttered an approving comment, but largely stayed silent.  After several minutes he walked to the bookcase across from his desk, searched for a moment, then removed two books. 

Returning to his desk he put the books to one side, sat down and said, “First, let me say thank you for allowing me to examine such a wonderful find.”  Then, glancing at both Jim and Eve and sweeping his hand over the vellum document and tube he said, “Unfortunately, I am not the man that can authenticate these items.”  Jim could feel his shoulders sag.  Before he could ask the obvious question Bill continued.  “I would guess there is only one person that could properly do that in North America, maybe three or four in France.  These pieces are truly extraordinary.” 

Jim and Eve glanced at each other.  “Well, why is it so hard?” she asked.  “I thought you’d just do, I don’t know, maybe carbon 14 dating or something like that to establish the age, then maybe a comparison with similar works of the time and that would be that.”    

Bill looked at her and smiled.  “That’s actually very good.  How did you come up with it?” 

She smiled back.  “I teach science, 7th grade.  You’ve now got me at my limit of scientific expertise.” 

“I’d bet not,” Bill said. “You’re wrong, but not by much.  We can’t use carbon-14 dating.  That process is helpful, but it will only put us in the general time period; probably within fifty to a hundred years.  Its not nearly precise enough for this project.  We do have a process somewhat similar to carbon-14 dating which will be helpful.  And, we’ll have to ensure this is not a contemporary forgery.” 

Bill paused and began to examine the Patent again.  Almost as an afterthought he added, “No, for this project a chemical and dye analysis will have to be done on the ink and paint.  That will give us the composition.  The actual text and the paintings are also very important.  The text will be examined for correct phrasing.  The paintings will be examined to ensure they’re identifying the correct people.  The material itself will be examined using radioisotope analysis and other methods.  Additionally, the tube will be examined; its age can be determined fairly closely by the ivory.  The real trick will be doing this without harming the object.” 

“You said you can’t do all that analysis correct?” asked Jim.

“Correct, I don’t have the expertise for some of the testing.  And, the royal family tree is not my forte.  No, I would have to refer you to a colleague at the University of Montreal, Dr. Jean-Michelle Somme.”

He then reached for the two books he’d previously retrieved.  “Would you like a little context for these things?  I may be able to add to your mystery, or take some of the mystery away, I’m not quite sure.”  He smiled and studied their faces.

“Yes!” “Certainly!” they both exclaimed. 

“Well, first let me show you this picture.  It’s a rarely seen view of the royal seating area of the tribune royale.”

Jim clearly looked confused.  Bill said, “The tribune royale is the area reserved for the King or royal sovereign in a cathedral.  Very few cathedrals actually have one; the fifth chapel at Versailles is one of those few.” 

Bill walked to a small table in the corner and laid the open book on it.  He tapped a picture and said, “Look at this.” 

It was a black and white picture of a series of cushioned chairs behind a wooden fence.  They bent over the picture for a moment, then straightened, their confusion evident. 

Bill explained, “This area is never visited by the public, no photographs are allowed and only scholars are permitted here.  To the best of my knowledge, none has been given permission in thirty years.  What is important in this photograph is the background.  You see here?” 

He used the handle of a small magnifying glass as a pointer and touched the image of a small altar to the side of the seats. 

“This is the family altar.  It’s where the royals would go for private services, communion, contemplation, that sort of thing.  To the side, you can’t see it in this picture, is a confessional.  I’m showing you this picture because of the ambry behind the communion table.  The ambry is a storage area.  Normally they only store the communion wafers, wine, chalice, and other items necessary for Holy Communion in an ambry.  But, this one is different.  See how large it is?” 

Jim, being near sighted took off his glasses for a better look.  Eve shouldered Jim aside, pulled her shoulder length honey-brown hair aside, took the proffered glass and adjusted the book for a better view.  Jim, now standing to the side looked at Eve and grinned.  “You goof,” he said.  “Ya snooze, ya lose,” she shot back and laughed. 

“Yeah, that is big,” Eve said. “How come?”

“They need that much room to store the chalice and communion plate?”  Jim asked.

“Actually, it’s called a chalice and paten.  And let’s not forget the wine.  But, even with the wine your eye is correct.  That’s a lot of space for those items.”

“Well, why so much?” asked Eve.

“That, my friends…,” Bill began with a satisfied sigh, “is an interesting story.”  With that lead-in all three resumed their seats. 

“It seems the French monarchy is descended from the great warrior-king Charlemagne.  Charlemagne conquered all of Europe from the English Channel and Atlantic coast almost to the Urals.  At one time he held the title of King of the Franks, the King of the Lombards, and Emperor of the Romans.  In short, he was a powerful guy, both politically and physically.  He was unusually big and muscular for that period and, unfortunately, the swords of the day didn’t fit him.”

“How can a sword fit someone?  I though they were just a big, you know, a big knife,” asked Eve. 

“Oh, make no mistake, the fit of a sword is very important.  A man’s life depended on his sword.  It must have the proper weight, balance point and length.  If it doesn’t then it’s an inefficient tool.  And, a sword is nothing if not a tool,” replied Bill.  “I’m not an expert in medieval weapons, but I’ve spoken with several that are and that’s what they tell me.  In any case, Charlemagne could not find a sword that fit him properly so he had one made.  As it happened, when the sword was finished he entered into a period of great conquest.  People credited the sword with remarkable powers and it began to take on a life of its own. 

Eventually, the sword became so associated with Charlemagne and his successes that people began to see it as the source of his power.  After his death subsequent Kings were measured against him.  Naturally, his successors wanted to claim his legitimacy and his legacy.  What better way to do that than become associated with his powerful sword?  Therefore, at each coronation Charlemagne’s sword was carried in front of the new King as a sign of that power and ancestry.”

Bill paused, collected his thoughts and continued, “Charlemagne’s sword is one of the most celebrated weapons in history.  The sword is sung of in the oldest known piece of French literature, the Song of Roland.  In that story the sword itself granted great power to Charlemagne and allowed him to avenge the defeat of some of his troops.  The sword developed its own mystic, much like Excalibur in England.  The sword was even believed to hold supernatural powers. 

He paused again, “Does the sword hold supernatural power?  I have no idea, but I do know that it became hugely important to the man.  In one battle in southern France, Charlemagne had it ripped from his hand and he lost it.  One of his knights, seeing the King without his sword searched the battlefield; during the battle no less, found the sword, killed the man that had it and returned it to his King. 

“That sounds a bit nuts,” said Jim. 

“It does indeed, and probably was, but it did earn the man a great piece of land and ensured a town was named after the sword.”

“They named a town after the sword?  Not the guy that found it?  Oh he got the short end of that deal,” Jim laughed. 

“Yes, they did name a town after the sword.  It’s why we now have the town of Joyeuse, France,” Bill patiently explained.

“What, wait, I don’t get it,” Jim said. “He named a town “Happy” because a guy returned his sword?” 

“Well, it does sound a little odd when you put it that way,” Bill acknowledged with a grin.  “But, the name of the sword is ‘la Joyeuse,’ they named the town after the sword.”  

“So how does the sword relate to this ambry?” Eve asked bringing Bill back to the original subject. 

“Ah, well…this long area in the ambry is where the sword was kept between coronations.”  He again pointed with his pencil.  “It is the symbol of the House of Bourbon even more than the fleur-de-lis.  And, behind these smaller doors on either side were kept the instruments of the coronation called Regalia; the coronation crown and the individual crowns.”

“What?  Wait…what kind of crowns?” Eve asked. 

Bill appreciated the question, “Another interesting thing…all Kings after Charlemagne were crowned with the crown Charlemagne himself wore.  But, after the coronation, sometimes the same day, they switched to a crown made specifically for the new King.  There are several good examples in the Louvre of these individual crowns.  The crown of Charlemagne is also in the museum, it is known as the “Coronation Crown”.  Although, there is some dispute as to its authenticity among various scholars of that sort of thing.”

Bill returned to the picture.  Pausing to gather himself he said, “Here they kept the Royal Patents.  You have a Royal Patent, but not just any Royal Patent.  You have the Patent of the Dauphin of France.  Royal Patents were rare even then.  The royal family was considered to be
noblesse de epee
or
noblesse ancienne
.  Both terms were used and they mean noble by the sword or simply traditional or old nobility.  In any case, this type of nobility is handed down.” 

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