Among the numerous historical monuments of antiquity, this one is one of the most famous, the most "talking", since there are inscriptions on it. However, he is also one of the most mysterious. We are talking about the world famous "tapestry from Bayeux", and it so happened that here, on the pages of VO, I could not tell about it for a long time. I didn’t have any original materials on this topic, so I decided to use an article in the Ukrainian magazine “Science and Technology”, which today is also distributed both in retail and by subscription in Russia. To date, this is the most detailed study of this topic, based on the study of many foreign sources.
For the first time I learned about the "tapestry" from the "Children's Encyclopedia" of the Soviet era, in which for some reason it was called … "Bayonne carpet". Later I learned that they make ham in Bayonne, but the city of Bayeux is the place where this legendary tapestry is kept, which is why it was named that way. Over time, my interest in the "carpet" only got stronger, I managed to get a lot of interesting (and unknown in Russia) information on it, well, but in the end it resulted in this very article …
There are not so many battles in the world that have radically changed the history of an entire country. In fact, in the western part of the world, there is probably only one of them - this is the Battle of Hastings. However, how do we know about her? What evidence is there at all that she really was, that this is not a fiction of idle chroniclers and not a myth? One of the most valuable pieces of evidence is the famous "Bayesian Carpet", on which "by the hands of Queen Matilda and her maid of honor" - as they usually write about it in our domestic history books - depicts the Norman conquest of England, and the Battle of Hastings itself. But the celebrated masterpiece raises as many questions as it does answers.
Works of monarchs and monks
The earliest information about the Battle of Hastings was received not from the British, but not from the Normans either. They were recorded in another part of northern France. In those days, modern France was a patchwork quilt of separate seigneurial estates. The power of the king was strong only in his domain, for the rest of the lands he was only a nominal ruler. Normandy also enjoyed great independence. It was formed in 911, after King Charles the Simple (or Rustic, which sounds more correct, and most importantly more worthy), desperate to see an end to the Viking raids, ceded land near Rouen to the Viking leader Rollo (or Rollon). Duke Wilhelm was Rollon's great-great-great-grandson.
By 1066, the Normans extended their rule from the Cherbourg Peninsula to the mouth of the Som River. By this time, the Normans were real French - they spoke French, adhered to French traditions and religion. But they retained the feeling of their isolation and remembered their origin. For their part, the French neighbors of the Normans were afraid of the strengthening of this duchy, and did not mix with the northern newcomers. Well, they did not have a suitable relationship for this, that's all! To the north and east of Normandy lay the lands of such "non-Normans" as the possession of Count Guy of Poitou and his kinsman Count Eustace II of Bologna. In the 1050s. they both were at enmity with Normandy and supported Duke William in his invasion of 1066 only because they pursued their own goals. Therefore, it is especially noteworthy that the earliest record of information about the Battle of Hastings was made by a French (and not a Norman!) Bishop Guy of Amiens, an uncle of Count Guy of Poitou and a cousin of Count Eustace of Bologna.
Bishop Guy's work is a comprehensive poem in Latin, and it is called "The Song of the Battle of Hastings." Although it was known about its existence for a long time, it was discovered only in 1826, when the archivists of the King of Hanover accidentally stumbled upon two copies of the "Song" of the 12th century. at the Royal Library of Bristol. The Song can be dated to 1067, and at the latest to the period up to 1074-1075, when Bishop Guy died. It presents a French, not Norman, point of view on the events of 1066. Moreover, unlike the Norman sources, the author of the Song makes the hero of the battle at Hastings not William the Conqueror (who would still be more correct to call Guillaume), but Count Eustace II of Bologna.
Then the English monk Edmer of Canterbury Abbey wrote "A History of Recent (Recent) Events in England" between 1095 and 1123. " And it turned out that his characterization of the Norman conquest completely contradicts the Norman version of this event, although it was underestimated by historians who were keen on other sources. In the XII century. there were authors who continued the Edmer tradition and expressed sympathy for the conquered English, although they justified the victory of the Normans, which led to the growth of spiritual values in the country. Among these authors are such Englishmen as: John Worchertersky, William of Molmesber, and the Normans: Oderic Vitalis in the first half of the 12th century. and in the second half, the Jersey-born poet Weiss.
In written sources, Duke William receives much more attention from the Normans. One such source is the biography of William the Conqueror, written in the 1070s. one of his priests - Wilhelm of Poiters. His work, "The Acts of Duke William", survived in an incomplete version, printed in the 16th century, and the only known manuscript burned down during a fire in 1731. This is the most detailed description of the events of interest to us, the author of which was well informed about them. And in this capacity, "The Acts of Duke William" is priceless, but not devoid of bias. Wilhelm of Poiters is a Normandy patriot. At every opportunity, he praises his duke and curses the evil usurper Harold. The purpose of the labor is to justify the Norman invasion after its completion. No doubt he embellished the truth, and at times even deliberately lied at times in order to present this conquest as just and legitimate.
Another Norman, Oderic Vitalis, also created a detailed and interesting description of the Norman conquest. In doing so, he was based on those written in the XII century. works of different authors. Oderick himself was born in 1075 near Shrewsberg in the family of an Englishwoman and a Norman, and at the age of 10 was sent by his parents to a Norman monastery. Here he spent his entire life as a monk, pursuing research and literary work, and between 1115 and 1141. created a Norman story known as Church History. A perfectly preserved author's copy of this work is in the National Library in Paris. Torn between England, where he spent his childhood, and Normandy, where he lived his entire adult life, Oderic, although he justifies the conquest of 1066, which led to religious reform, does not close his eyes to the cruelty of the aliens. In his work, he even forces William the Conqueror to call himself a "cruel killer", and on his deathbed in 1087 he puts into his mouth a completely uncharacteristic confession: “I treated the locals with unjustified cruelty, humiliating the rich and the poor, unjustly depriving them of their own lands; I have caused the death of many thousands by famine and war, especially in Yorkshire."
These written sources are the basis for historical research. In them we see an exciting, instructive and mysterious story. But when we close these books and come to the tapestry from Bayeux, it is as if we are from a dark cave into a world flooded with light and full of bright colors. The figures on the tapestry are not just funny 11th-century characters embroidered on linen. They seem to us to be real people, although sometimes they are embroidered in a strange, almost grotesque manner. However, even just looking at the "tapestry", after some time you begin to understand that it, this tapestry, hides more than it shows, and that even today it is full of secrets that still await their explorer.
Travel through time and space
How did it happen that a fragile work of art survived much more durable things and has survived to this day? This in itself an outstanding event is worthy, at least, a separate story, if not a separate historical study. The first evidence of the existence of the tapestry dates back to the turn of the 11th and 12th centuries. Between 1099 and 1102 French poet Baudry, abbot of the Monastery of Bourgeles, composed a poem for Countess Adele Bloyskaya, daughter of William the Conqueror. The poem details the magnificent tapestry in her bedchamber. According to Baudry, the tapestry is embroidered in gold, silver and silk and depicts her father's conquest of England. The poet describes the tapestry in detail, scene by scene. But it couldn't have been a Bayeux tapestry. The tapestry described by Baudry is much smaller, created in a different manner and embroidered with more expensive threads. Perhaps this tapestry of Adele is a miniature copy of the tapestry from Bayeux, and it really adorned the Countess's bedchamber, but was then lost. However, most scholars believe that Adele's tapestry is nothing more than an imaginary model of a tapestry from Bayeux, which the author saw somewhere in the period before 1102. They cite his words as proof:
“On this canvas are the ships, the leader, the names of the leaders, if, of course, it ever existed. If you could believe in his existence, you would see in him the truth of history."
The reflection of the Bayeux tapestry in the mirror of the poet's imagination is the only mention of its existence in written sources up to the 15th century. The first reliable mention of the Bayeux tapestry dates back to 1476. Its exact location is also dated to the same time. Inventory of Bayeux Cathedral in 1476 contains data according to which the cathedral possessed "a very long and narrow linen cloth, on which figures and commentaries on scenes of the Norman conquest were embroidered." Documents show that every summer, embroidery was hung around the nave of the cathedral for several days during religious holidays.
We will probably never know how this fragile masterpiece of the 1070s. came down to us through the centuries. For a long period after 1476, there is no information about the tapestry. It could easily have perished in the crucible of the religious wars of the 16th century, since in 1562 Bayeux Cathedral was ravaged by the Huguenots. They destroyed books in the cathedral, and many other objects named in the inventory of 1476. Among these things - a gift from William the Conqueror - a gilded crown and at least one very valuable unnamed tapestry. The monks knew about the upcoming attack and managed to transfer the most valuable treasures to the protection of local authorities. Perhaps the Bayeux tapestry was well hidden, or the robbers simply overlooked it; but he managed to avoid death.
Stormy times gave way to peaceful ones, and the tradition of hanging a tapestry during the holidays was revived again. To replace the flying clothes and pointed hats of the XIV century. skinny pants and wigs came, but the people of Bayeux still gazed with admiration at the tapestry depicting the victory of the Normans. Only in the 18th century. scientists drew attention to it, and from that moment the history of the Bayeux tapestry is known in the smallest detail, although the very chain of events that led to the "discovery" of the tapestry is only in general terms.
The story of the "discovery" begins with Nicolas-Joseph Focolt, ruler of Normandy from 1689 to 1694. He was a very educated man, and after his death in 1721 the papers belonging to him were transferred to the library of Paris. Among them were stylized drawings of the first part of the Bayeux tapestry. Antique dealers in Paris were intrigued by these mysterious drawings. Their author is unknown, but perhaps it was Focolta's daughter, famous for her artistic talents. In 1724, explorer Anthony Lancelot (1675-1740) drew the attention of the Royal Academy to these drawings. In an academic journal, he reproduced Focolt's essay; then. for the first time the image of the tapestry from Bayeux appeared in print, but no one yet knew what it really was. Lancelot understood that the drawings depicted an outstanding work of art, but he had no idea which one. He could not determine what it was: a bas-relief, a sculptural composition in the choir of a church or a tomb, a fresco, a mosaic, or a tapestry. He only determined that Focolt's work describes only a part of a large work, and concluded that “it must have a continuation,” although the researcher could not imagine how long it could be. The truth about the origin of these drawings was discovered by the Benedictine historian Bernard de Montfaucon (1655 - 1741). He was familiar with Lancelot's work and set himself the task of finding a mysterious masterpiece. In October 1728 Montfaucon met with the abbot of the Abbey of Saint Vigor at Bayeux. The abbot was a local resident and said that the drawings depict old embroidery, which on certain days is hung in the Bayeux Cathedral. So their secret was revealed, and the tapestry became the property of all mankind.
We do not know if Montfaucon saw the tapestry with his own eyes, although it is difficult to imagine that he, having devoted so much effort to finding it, missed such an opportunity. In 1729 he published Focolt's drawings in the first volume of Monuments of French Monasteries. He then asked Anthony Benoit, one of the finest draftsmen of the day, to copy the rest of the tapestry without any modification. In 1732, Benoit's drawings appeared in the second volume of Monfaucon's Monuments. Thus, all the episodes depicted on the tapestry were published. These first images of tapestry are very important: they testify to the state of the tapestry in the first half of the 18th century. By that time, the final episodes of the embroidery had already been lost, so Benoit's drawings end on the same fragment that we can see today. His commentary states that local tradition attributes the creation of the tapestry to the wife of William the Conqueror, Queen Matilda. This is where, therefore, the widespread myth of "Queen Matilda's tapestry" originated.
Immediately after these publications, a series of scientists from England reached out to the tapestry. One of the first among them was the antique dealer Andrew Dukarel (1713-1785), who saw the tapestry in 1752. Getting to it proved to be a difficult task. Dukarel heard about Bayeux embroidery and wanted to see it, but when he arrived in Bayeux, the priests of the cathedral completely denied its existence. Perhaps they just didn't want to unwrap the tapestry for the casual traveler. But Dukarel was not going to give up so easily. He said that the tapestry depicts the conquest of England by William the Conqueror and added that it was hung every year in their cathedral. This information returned the memory of the priests. The scientist's persistence was rewarded: he was escorted to a small chapel in the southern part of the cathedral, which was dedicated to the memory of Thomas Beckett. It was here, in an oak box, that the folded Bayesian tapestry was kept. Dukarel was one of the first Englishmen to see tapestry after the 11th century. He later wrote about the deep satisfaction he felt to see this "incredibly valuable" creation; although he lamented about his "barbaric embroidery technique."However, the whereabouts of the tapestry remained a mystery to most scholars, and the great philosopher David Hume further confused the situation when he wrote that "this interesting and original monument was recently discovered in Rouen." But gradually the fame of the Bayeux tapestry spread to both sides of the Channel. True, he had difficult times ahead. In excellent condition it had passed the dark Middle Ages, but now it was on the verge of the most serious test in its history.
The capture of the Bastille on July 14, 1789 destroyed the monarchy and initiated the atrocities of the French Revolution. The old world of religion and aristocracy was now completely rejected by the revolutionaries. In 1792 the revolutionary government of France decreed that everything connected with the history of royal power should be destroyed. In a burst of iconoclasm, buildings were destroyed, sculptures collapsed, priceless stained glass windows of French cathedrals were smashed to smithereens. In the Paris fire of 1793, 347 volumes and 39 boxes with historical documents burned down. Soon a wave of destruction hit Bayeux.
In 1792, another batch of local citizens went to war in defense of the French Revolution. In a hurry, they forgot the canvas that covered the wagon with the equipment. And someone advised to use for this purpose the embroidery of Queen Matilda, which was kept in the cathedral! The local administration gave its consent, and a crowd of soldiers entered the cathedral, seized the tapestry and covered the wagon with it. The local police commissioner, attorney Lambert Leonard-LeForester, found out at the very last moment. Knowing about the enormous historical and artistic value of the tapestry, he immediately ordered to return it to its place. Then, showing genuine fearlessness, he rushed to the wagon with the tapestry and personally admonished the crowd of soldiers until they agreed to return the tapestry in exchange for the tarp. However, some revolutionaries continued to nurture the idea of destroying the tapestry, and in 1794 they tried to cut it into pieces to decorate a festive raft in honor of the "Goddess of Reason." But by this time he was already in the hands of the local artistic commission, and she managed to protect the tapestry from destruction.
In the era of the First Empire, the fate of the tapestry was happier. At that time, no one doubted that the Bayeux Tapestry was the embroidery of the wife of a victorious conqueror, who wanted to glorify her husband's achievements. Therefore, it is not surprising that Napoleon Bonaparte saw in him a means to propagandize a repetition of the same conquest. In 1803, the then First Consul planned an invasion of England and, to warm up the enthusiasm, ordered to exhibit the "tapestry of Queen Matilda" in the Louvre (then it was called the Museum of Napoleon). For centuries, the tapestry was in Bayeux, and the townspeople bitterly parted with a masterpiece that they might never see again. But the local authorities could not disobey the order, and the tapestry was sent to Paris.
The Paris exhibition was a huge success, with tapestry becoming a popular topic of discussion in secular salons. There was even a play written in which Queen Matilda worked hard on the tapestry, and a fictional character named Raymond dreamed of becoming a hero soldier to be embroidered on the tapestry too. It is not known if Napoleon saw this play, but it is claimed that he spent several hours standing in front of a tapestry in contemplation. Like William the Conqueror, he carefully prepared for the invasion of England. Napoleon's fleet of 2,000 ships was located between Brest and Antwerp, and his "great army" of 150-200 thousand soldiers set up camp in Bologna. The historical parallel became even more apparent when a comet swept across the skies over northern France and southern England, as Halley's comet is clearly visible on the Bayeux tapestry, seen in April 1066. This fact did not go unnoticed, and many considered it another omen of defeat England. But, despite all the signs, Napoleon failed to repeat the success of the Norman duke. His plans did not materialize, and in 1804 the tapestry returned to Bayeux. This time he ended up in the hands of secular rather than church authorities. He was never again exhibited at Bayeux Cathedral.
When peace was established between England and France in 1815, the Bayeux tapestry ceased to serve as an instrument of propaganda, and was returned to the world of science and art. Only at this time did people begin to realize how close the death of the masterpiece was, and began to think about the place of its storage. Many were concerned about how the tapestry was constantly being rolled and unrolled. This alone hurt him, but the authorities were in no hurry to solve the problem. To preserve the tapestry, the London Society of Antiquaries sent Charles Stosard, an eminent draftsman, to copy it. For two years, from 1816 to 1818, Stosard worked on this project. His drawings, along with earlier images, are very important in assessing the then state of the tapestry. But Stosard was not only an artist. He wrote one of the best commentaries on tapestry. Moreover, he tried to restore the lost episodes on paper. Later, his work helped restore the tapestry. Stosard clearly understood the need for this work. “A few years will pass,” he wrote, “and there will no longer be an opportunity to complete this business.”
But, unfortunately, the final stage of work on the tapestry demonstrated the weakness of human nature. For a long time, being alone with the masterpiece, Stosard succumbed to temptation and cut off a piece of the top border (2.5x3 cm) as a keepsake. In December 1816, he secretly brought a souvenir to England, and five years later he died tragically - he fell from the forests of the Bere Ferrers Church in Devon. Stosard's heirs donated the embroidery piece to the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, where it was exhibited as a "piece of Bayesian tapestry." In 1871, the museum decided to return the "lost" piece to its true place. It was taken to Bayeux, but by that time the tapestry had already been restored. The decision was made to leave the fragment in the same glass box in which it had arrived from England and place it next to the restored curb. Everything would be fine, but not a day passed without someone asking the keeper about this fragment and the English commentary on it. As a result, the keeper ran out of patience, and a piece of tapestry was removed from the exhibition hall.
There is a story that tells that Stosard's wife and her "weak female nature" are to blame for stealing a fragment of the tapestry. But today no one doubts that Stosard himself was the thief. And he was not the last one to take with him at least a piece of the ancient tapestry. One of his followers was Thomas Diblin, who visited the tapestry in 1818. In his book of travel notes, he writes, as a matter of course, that with difficulty gaining access to the tapestry, he cut several strips. The fate of these scraps is not known. As for the tapestry itself, in 1842 it was moved to a new building and finally placed under the protection of glass.
The fame of the Bayeux tapestry continued to grow, thanks in large part to printed reproductions that appeared in the second half of the 19th century. But this was not enough for a certain Elizabeth Wardle. She was the wife of a wealthy silk merchant and decided that England deserved something more tangible and durable than photography. In the mid-1880s. Mrs. Wardle gathered a group of like-minded people from 35 people and began to create an exact copy of the tapestry from Bayeux. So, after 800 years, the story of Bayesian embroidery was repeated again. It took the Victorian ladies two years to complete their work. The result was great and very accurate, similar to the original. However, the prim British ladies could not bring themselves to convey some of the details. When it came to depicting male genitals (clearly embroidered on tapestry), authenticity gave way to modesty. On their copy, the Victorian needlewomen decided to deprive one naked character of his manhood, and the other was prudently dressed in underpants. But now, on the contrary, what they modestly decided to cover up involuntarily attracts special attention. The copy was completed in 1886 and went on a triumphant exhibition tour of England, then the United States and Germany. In 1895 this copy was donated to the town of Reading. To this day, the British version of the Bayesque tapestry is in the museum of this English town.
Franco-Prussian War 1870-1871 nor did the First World War leave marks on the Bayeux tapestry. But during World War II, the tapestry experienced one of the greatest adventures in its history. On September 1, 1939, as soon as German troops invaded Poland, plunging Europe into the darkness of war for five and a half years, the tapestry was carefully removed from the exhibition stand, rolled up, sprayed with insecticides and hidden in a concrete shelter in the foundations of the Episcopal Palace in Bayeux. Here the tapestry was kept for a whole year, during which it was only occasionally checked and again sprinkled with insecticides. In June 1940, France fell. And almost immediately, the tapestry came to the attention of the occupying authorities. Between September 1940 and June 1941, the tapestry was exhibited at least 12 times to German audiences. Like Napoleon, the Nazis hoped to emulate the success of William the Conqueror. Like Napoleon, they viewed tapestry as a means of propaganda, and like Napoleon, they postponed the invasion in 1940. Churchill's Britain was better prepared for war than Harold's. Britain won the war in the air, and although bombing continued, Hitler directed his main forces against the Soviet Union.
However, German interest in the Bayeux tapestry was not satisfied. In the Ahnenerbe (ancestral heritage) - the research and educational department of the German SS, they became interested in the tapestry. The goal of this organization is to find "scientific" evidence of the superiority of the Aryan race. The Ahnenerbe attracted an impressive number of German historians and scholars who readily abandoned a truly scientific career in the interests of Nazi ideology. The organization is notorious for its inhuman medical experiments in concentration camps, but it has focused on both archeology and history. Even in the most difficult times of the war, the SS spent huge amounts of money on the study of German history and archeology, the occult and the search for works of art of Aryan origin. The tapestry attracted her attention by the fact that it depicted the military valor of the Nordic peoples - the Normans, the descendants of the Vikings and Anglo-Saxons, the descendants of the Angles and Saxons. Therefore, the "intellectuals" from the SS developed an ambitious project to study Bayesian tapestry, in which they intended to photograph and redraw it in full, and then publish the resulting materials. The French authorities were forced to obey them.
For the purpose of study in June 1941, the tapestry was transported to the abbey of Juan Mondoye. The group of researchers was led by Dr. Herbert Jankuhn, a professor of archeology from Kiel, an active member of the Ahnenerbe. Jankuhn gave a lecture on Bayesian tapestry to Hitler's “circle of friends” on April 14, 1941 and at the German Academy in Stettin in August 1943. After the war, he continued his scientific career and published frequently in The History of the Middle Ages. Many students and scholars have read and quoted his work, unaware of his questionable past. Over time, Jankuhn became Professor Emeritus of Göttingen. He died in 1990 and his son donated the Bayesian tapestry to the museum, where they still form an important part of his archives.
In the meantime, on the advice of the French authorities, the Germans agreed to transport the tapestry to the art storage at the Château de Surcher for safety reasons. This was a sensible decision, since the Chateau, a large palace of the 18th century, was located far from the theater of war. The Mayor of Bayeux, Señor Dodeman, has made every effort to find suitable transport to transport the masterpiece. But, unfortunately, he managed to get only a very unreliable and even dangerous truck with a gas generator engine with a capacity of only 10 hp, which ran on coal. It was in it that they loaded the masterpiece, 12 bags of coal, and on the morning of August 19, 1941, the incredible journey of the famous tapestry began.
It was all right at first. The driver and two escorts stopped for lunch in the town of Flurs, but when they got ready to set off again, the engine did not start. After 20 minutes, the driver started the car, and they jumped into it, but then the engine went bad on the first ascent, and they had to get out of the truck and push it uphill. Then the car went downhill, and they ran after it. They had to repeat this exercise many times until they covered more than 100 miles separating Bayeux from Suurchet. Having reached their destination, the exhausted heroes did not have time to rest or eat. As soon as they unloaded the tapestry, the car drove back to Bayeux, where it had to be until 10 pm due to the strict curfew. Although the truck became lighter, it still did not go uphill. By 9 o'clock in the evening they had reached only Alancion, a town halfway to Bayeux. The Germans were evacuating the coastal areas, and it was overrun with refugees. There were no places in hotels, in restaurants and cafes - food. Finally, the concierge of the city administration took pity on them and let them into the attic, which also served as a camera for speculators. From food he found eggs and cheese. Only the next day, four and a half hours later, all three returned to Bayeux, but immediately went to the mayor and reported that the tapestry had safely crossed the occupied Normandy and was in storage. He remained there for another three years.
On June 6, 1944, the Allies landed in Normandy, and it seemed that the events of 1066 were reflected in the mirror of history exactly the opposite: now a huge fleet with soldiers on board crossed the English Channel, but in the opposite direction and with the aim of liberation, and not conquest. Despite fierce battles, the Allies struggled to recapture a foothold for the offensive. Suurcher was 100 miles from the coast, but the German authorities, with the consent of the French Minister of Education, decided to move the tapestry to Paris. It is believed that Heinrich Himmler himself was behind this decision. Of all the priceless works of art kept at the Château de Surchet, he chose only the tapestry. And on June 27, 1944, the tapestry was transported to the basements of the Louvre.
Ironically, long before the tapestry arrived in Paris, Bayeux was released. On June 7, 1944, the day after the landing, the Allies from the 56th British Infantry Division took the city. Bayeux was the first city in France to be liberated from the Nazis, and unlike many others, its historic buildings were not affected by the war. The British war cemetery has a Latin inscription stating that those who were conquered by William the Conqueror have returned to liberate the Conqueror's homeland. If the tapestry had remained in Bayeux, it would have been released much earlier.
By August 1944, the Allies approached the outskirts of Paris. Eisenhower, commander-in-chief of the Allied forces, intended to pass by Paris and invade Germany, but the leader of the French Liberation, General de Gaulle, feared that Paris would pass into the hands of the Communists, and insisted on the speedy liberation of the capital. Fighting began on the outskirts. From Hitler, an order was received in the event of leaving the capital of France, to wipe it off the face of the earth. For this, the main buildings and bridges of Paris were mined, and high-powered torpedoes were hidden in the metro tunnels. General Choltitz, who commanded the Paris garrison, came from an old family of the Prussian military and could not violate the order in any way. However, by that time he realized that Hitler was crazy, that Germany was losing the war, and he was playing for time in every possible way. It was under such and such circumstances that on Monday, August 21, 1944, two SS men suddenly entered his office at the Maurice Hotel. The general decided that it was after him, but he was mistaken. The SS men said they had Hitler's orders to take the tapestry to Berlin. It is possible that it was intended, along with other Nordic relics, to be placed in a quasi-religious sanctuary of the SS elite.
From the balcony, the general showed them the Louvre, in the basement of which the tapestry was kept. The famous palace was already in the hands of the French resistance fighters, and machine guns were firing in the street. The SS men pondered, and one of them said that the French authorities, most likely, had already taken out the tapestry, and there was no point in taking the museum by storm. After thinking a little, they decided to return empty-handed.
