The Curious Case of the Bejewelled Skeleton Dear International Living Reader, ''But I've come all the way from Ireland to see Felix!'' I pleaded in French (and German) to the woman at the Musee d'Art et d'Histoire's reception desk. I'm in Fribourg, northern Switzerland, a town climbing up from the banks of the Sarine River. I'm not sure why there are hardly any tourists here--within its Old Town, Fribourg has a stack of historical goodies to offer: the covered wooden Bern bridge; 13th century gates that could still slam shut if the citizens so wished; curious pointy-hat towers; frescoed houses; fountains galore topped with golden sandstone figures
plus, the Musee d'Art et d'Histoire, where I've come, to no avail, to see where Felix--and his companions, Fortunat and Prosper--lie. But entrance is forbidden (due to redecoration.) I'd been intrigued by a throwaway line about the Musee in a guidebook: "Upstairs is the especially revolting jewel-bedecked skeleton of St. Felix with glitter for lips and a phial of dried blood resting beside the bones." Especially revolting, huh? Just my kind of thing! But why were saintly relics in a museum, not a church? Before leaving home, I'd trawled the website of the Catholic Encyclopaedia, but there was no mention of St. Felix of Fribourg. After I'd bought a postcard of the bejewelled Prosper--who certainly looks weird, but not especially revolting--the receptionist softened enough to give me an under-the-counter brochure in German about des Kultes der Katakombenheiligen (the cult of the Catacomb saints.) It was heavy going, but I gleaned enough to madden me even more about being deprived of the skellies. Felix is apparently decked out in the style of a Roman soldier, wearing a tunic, mantle, and shoes of red silk. (If Roman soldiers wore silk shoes and slapped glitter on their lips, I'm not surprised the Empire fell.) He also wears a crown made of silver thread, gold paper and colored glass. During the 1500s, it seems there was a huge demand throughout Europe for saintly relics. Some enterprising soul had the notion of snatching bones from Rome's Catacombs; a number went to various Swiss churches. My German wasn't up to figuring why the parishioners decked these stolen skeletons out like medieval drag queens, but I did discover that the Second Vatican Council decided they shouldn't have been declared saints; the churches were ordered to remove them. Hence, Felix and his pals rest in the Museum. Steenie Harvey Roving Euro-editor, International Living P.S. On Fribourg's rue de Morat, the Musee d'Art et d'Histoire is closed Monday. If you're especially interested in seeing the skeletons, it's probably best to phone first to check if they're back on display (contact details below.) Also, many Swiss restaurants close on Sundays. It's vital to reserve a table in those that are open--otherwise you'll be dining in the local Turkish kebab house or going for a Big Mac. |