Before you stands the Palais de Justice, but we are here for what used to stand on this exact footprint... the Abbey of Notre-Dame-la-d'Hors. This site is the perfect final chapter for our journey. It is a monument that physically embodies the entire story of Auxerre. A story of moving boundaries, redefined sanctuaries, and the brutal sweep of history.
Let us rewind to the seventh century. Bishop Vigile founded a monastery here, well beyond the safety of the old city fortifications. Because it sat out in the vulnerable countryside, they literally named it Notre-Dame-la-d'Hors, which translates directly to Our Lady of the Outside.
Vigile was a man of the people, building a hospital right next door for poor pilgrims. When he died in 684, his tomb became a massive draw. Sick people would literally be squeezed through holes carved into his sarcophagus, hoping for a miracle cure. A bit claustrophobic, but people were desperate. His relics were so prized that when rival monks tried to steal his bones years later, the locals nearly started a full scale riot to protect their patron saint.
But the defining physical shift for this abbey came in 1193. The city of Auxerre expanded its defensive walls, and the new perimeter wrapped right around this complex. Suddenly, Our Lady of the Outside was... inside. Since the old name no longer made any sense, they rebranded. The church featured a dome, a rarity for architecture in this region, so it became known as Notre-Dame-la-Ronde.
Safety inside the walls did not mean peace, of course. Around 1198, the local prior, Robert d'Auxerre, was abruptly thrown into solitary confinement by the bishop for reasons that remain a mystery today. Trapped in a cell, Robert was so profoundly bored that he decided to write a comprehensive history of the world. His chronicle was so brilliantly objective that it remains one of our most precious sources for medieval history. Spite and extreme boredom... the true engines of great literature.
Then came the French Revolution. In 1790, the abbey was seized and the monks were scattered. The revolutionaries turned this sacred, domed church into a military storage unit for hay and horse feed. They packed it so full that the heavy loads fractured the ancient stone vaults. By 1799, the roof was caving in, and the bankrupt locals had to sell their beloved sanctuary for scrap stone.
The chaos spilled right out into the street. Next door, a man named Royneau had to hide from a murderous mob by wedging himself up a chimney. He only survived because his neighbor grabbed a heavy piece of wood and single-handedly beat back the attackers. Ironically, Royneau had a plaque above his door from 1602 that read, Let this door be open to all honest people. Clearly, the mob lacked a sense of irony.
By 1882, the massive courthouse you see now was built over the ruins. The walls of Auxerre moved, the names changed, and the sanctuary was ultimately replaced by the law.
And speaking of the law, the Palais de Justice operates as an active courthouse today.
