World War II and the Bikini

While in France this summer researching and writing on the Huguenots, we spent a week in Caen (also an important Huguenot site) exploring WW II history and D-Day, Giles' particular passion. He references everything in the context of WW II. Our first visit to the beach at La Ciatot, warm Mediterranean seaside environment on all sides, he looked out on all the sunbathers and said, "Did you know that the French invented the bikini? After WW II there was a really big fabric shortage so they came up with that." In fact, he was partially correct, though it was the French testing nuclear weapons on the Bikini Islands after WW II that led to the invention.

The following are clips of Giles (10) explaining what happened in WW II at various beaches, bunkers, and museums in Normandy. He really loves this history, and has spent the months before our travels reading everything he could get his hands on about D-Day and WW II.

Giles explaining what happened on D-Day at Omaha Beach:

Giles explaining what happened on D-Day at Pegasus Bridge:

Giles explaining what happened on D-Day at the German cemetery near Pont du Hoc:

 

Giles explaining what happened on D-Day at Gold Beach:

Giles explaining what happened on D-Day at the Mulberry Harbors:

 

Giles explaining what happened on D-Day with tanks:

Giles explaining what happened on D-Day... (a few more coming)

Horrors against the Huguenots in Orange

CHAPTER ON FIRST CIVIL WAR 1562, PROVENCE, DAUPHANY, AND ORANGE AND CHATEAUNEUF DE PAPES:  horrors here in orange not surpassed in the most savage annals of war history. Page 49 vol 2 of Baird. This makes a full chapter maybe two. Cathedral of Notre Dame of Nazareth, completed in 1208, but looks very Romanesque, square tower, round arches, and crammed into medieval streets so it’s hard to get a complete view of it. That may be just today. In December of 1561 the gospel had taken such a hold on the people in this place that Huguenots far outnumbered RC. The cathedral became the temple for Huguenot worship. William of Orange had become the duke of this principality in France, by marriage, I assume. It’s nowhere near Holland. Apparently he was still RC as his dukedom became more Protestant and pressures were exerted on him to crush Reformation in his dukedom, which he sort of half-heartedly did at first. Meanwhile, the Reformation is growing in the Netherlands; he would eventually be converted to Christ and become a champion of Reformation. As far as I know, he never lived in Orange, but may have visited. In the first war of religion, Orange was brutally put to the sword, men killed, women raped and abused and then killed, children and elderly put to the sword, the few who survived thrown in prison, the ancient Roman theatre. It has a vast wall with inset Roman arches but is an imposing wall, theatre, fort, slum, prison, now back to theatre (we ate our 30^th wedding anniversary dinner at a café right in front of it). There is a castle ruin behind it that probably played a role in the war. The arch of triumph built in BC 20 celebrates the Roman victory over the Ghauls in this region. Very impressive, intact edifice, lots of detailed stone carving visible in its three arches (middle large, two on sides smaller and narrower, unlike Nîmes’ which had four, two large ones for chariots, and two smaller for walking through, but Nîmes was just a city gate for walking in and out, right and left traffic, through the walls, this a triumphal arch, larger middle one for chariots, and two walking ones, still pretty large).

Angers another stronghold of Huguenot gospel

Angers was a stronghold of the Huguenots

At a convent within sight of the cathedral the Edict of Nantes was drafted and edited, later to be signed by Henri IV at Nantes (Cheryl spotted the plaque on the building where it was drafted). The castle is unique in its stone work, with dark stone layers alternating with lighter stone work; it also has multiple round large towers connected by shorter wall sections. Inside is the largest tapestry in the world, a vast exploration of the Apocalypse from Revelations. 

Narrow winding medieval streets bring you from the castle past the convent and to the XI century cathedral, again the earlier part of what must have been a cloister on the south side uses the darker stones like the castle. Inside the ribbed vaulting is wide and unadorned and there is no ambulatory, so it feels sort of cramped. It feels very popish, a black robed cleric praying to an image of Mary in the chapel in the north transept, and the rose window in the south transept enacts the apocalypse. 

Nearby is Saumur, local duke a faithful supporter of the Huguenot cause who gave up his castle in 1593 to be the first seminary for training Protestant pastors. Sadly, this seminary also produced Moises Amyraut, who would attempt to modify Reformed theology after Dordt into Amyraldianism, four point Calvinism, hypothetical universalism. But this all happens decades after the setting of my Huguenot historical fiction, set when the theology was more complete and faithful to Reformation gospel.

Arles, France, fiction excerpt where a friar preaches against the Huguenots

Here's another brief excerpt of my work on the Huguenots (pictures below of the cathedral steps where this takes place)

On the steps of Arles’ Cathédrale St. Trophime stood a monk, his sandaled feet just visible under the folds of his long habit, the rope knotted at his broad middle encircled a thick belly that jiggled as he moved. He had pulled his pointed gray hood far onto his head, and its rim cast an eerie shadow on his face.

“What of the edict!” he cried, throwing off his hood. His eyes goggled wide and terrifying. With an audible moan, the crowd that had gathered fell back. “This King of Navarre and his mother—they are the true Jezebel and Ahab! They are the ones who have inflicted this seditious edict on France! France has one king, one law, one religion! There is no other religion! Thus it is not possible for any edict to sanction another religion; an edict that does so is not true, nor is it binding on your consciences. Hear my words!”

He held aloft a parchment, the sleeve of his gray habit falling past his elbow. The fleshy skin of his arm looked like the white belly of an albacore, and it quavered as he shook the parchment over the crowd.   

"Well now, my people,” he continued, his tone sarcastic, “what must I and the other true preachers of France do? Must we obey this order, this edict, this sacrilege? What shall we tell you? What shall we preach?” He leapt to his left onto the lowest step of the cathedral, then turned back to where he had just stood and whimpered, 'The Gospel,' Sir Huguenot will say.” He stretched out the syllables of the word l’Evangile as he spoke. He liked the taunting sound of his own voice and said the word several more times, his voice growing louder.

Taking the steps three at a time—when he moved his whole body reminded Philippe of a mound of new sheep cheese, soft, wobbly, and pasty white—now back on his former step, he turned and continued. “I must tell you, this edict notwithstanding. What they mean by ‘Gospel’ is anathema. Follow their easy gospel, alas, and you are damned. Damned by the pernicious errors of Luther, of Calvin, of Beza, of Pierre Viret, and all other such preachers, with their erroneous doctrine, condemned by the Church a thousand years ago, and since then by the holy œcumenical councils—they’re all worthless and damnable. Now then, is not my telling you this the true preaching of the gospel? Is it not the gospel to bid you beware of their teaching, to bid you refuse to listen to them, or to read their books? Though this edict forbids me to speak evil of Reformers and Huguenots, who it is well known seek only to stir up sedition, murder, and robbery, as they have begun to do in Paris and numberless places in the realm—is not this the true preaching of 'the Gospel?'”

As if he had rehearsed, the friar paused and dropped down a step and turned back to where he had been standing, now addressing himself, as it were, and in a girlish tone, placing a limp fleshy hand over his heart and another on his forehead as he spoke. “But someone here may say: 'Oh, friar, what are you saying? You are not obeying the king's edict; it forbids you to speak evil of Calvin and his companions; the edict forbids you to call them heretics and Huguenots; oh, friar, you will be denounced to the courts of justice, you will be thrown into prison—yes, you will be hung as a seditious person.'” At his own words, he made as if to swoon, his wide body teetering as if about to plunge down the steps. Several scurried to steady him.

Then, his gray habit swishing, the friar returned to his original place on the steps and looked aghast at where he had just stood. “I answer, I do the will of God and of the pope by denouncing these seditious heretics before you. This foul edict guards and protects these damnable prophets of Baal who lead you to ruin by their so-called ‘Gospel.’” He slapped the parchment viciously with the back of his hand at his words.

He spun around again, assuming the tone and posture of his critic. “'Stop, friar, you are saying too much; you violate the edict; you will be hung.'”

Leaping onto a still higher step, with a flourish, he untied his rope belt and coiled it around his neck, pulling up on it with his hand. “Very well,” he continued, his head lolling to one side, his voice raspy, “then there will be a gray friar hung! Moreover, by this seditious edict many others like me will have to be hung.” After one last jerk upward, he uncoiled the rope from his neck and returned it to his plentiful waist. “We, the true pillars of Mother Church, will uphold the edifice of Rome, which will never be overthrown until the end of the world, whatever blows Calvin and his crew may pretend to strike against it!”

Castles, castles, castles! Happy birthday Gillian

Our youngest, Gillian, turns eight today in France. As an important part of the Huguenot research we have been visiting castles--and staying in one, or at least on the immediate grounds of one at the conciergerie or gatehouse.

Quick breakdown of historical significance of a few of the castles pictured: 

Amboise is where da Vinci lived out his final days under patronage of Charles VIII; it is the site of the slaughter of 1,200 Huguenots in 1560, the first royal chateau on the Loire.

Chenonceau, aside from its important WW II role with the French Resistance and as the line of demarcation between occupied and so called free France, it is the castle where the queen mother, Catherine de Medici orchestrated policy against the Huguenots, including the St Bartholemews Day Massacre in 1572 (see the birthday girl standing in Catherine's study).

Chervernay, also with WW II significance in that many of the treasures from the Louvre were hidden here including da Vincis Mona Lisa, has only minimal Huguenot significance, except that my wife really wanted to visit this charming castle and village, and she puts up with heaps from me planning our itinerary around research. We all loved it, especially the TinTin fans amongst us, this castle being the place wher the author of TinTin got his inspiration... Castles are good places for writing inspiration.

Blois is important to Huguenot history. Readers will learn about the arch nemesis of the Huguenots the Guise brothers, orchestrators of several premeditated massacres (Vassy and Sens come immediately to mind) and defiant violators of royal edicts designed to create a modicum of peace and freedom of worship for Huguenots. They were both murdered here, but not by Huguenots, by King Henri III who was fed up with these two trouble makers, always Catherine de Medici behind foul play in France, however.

Montpoupon and another along the Loire, just really cool castles (stopped along the dike in the Loire and stepped out to take this picture, there was a French license plate that had fallen off a car some time before, just what I'd been looking for), and more of "ours", la celle guenand.