The Chateau du Glandier is one of the oldest chateaux in the Ile de
France, where so many building remains of the feudal period are
still standing. Built originally in the heart of the forest, in the
reign of Philip le Bel, it now could be seen a few hundred yards
from the road leading from the village of Sainte-Genevieve to
Monthery. A mass of inharmonious structures, it is dominated by a
donjon. When the visitor has mounted the crumbling steps of this
ancient donjon, he reaches a little plateau where, in the seventeenth
century, Georges Philibert de Sequigny, Lord of the Glandier,
Maisons-Neuves and other places, built the existing town in an
abominably rococo style of architecture.

It was in this place, seemingly belonging entirely to the past, that
Professor Stangerson and his daughter installed themselves to lay
the foundations for the science of the future. Its solitude, in
the depths of woods, was what, more than all, had pleased them.
They would have none to witness their labours and intrude on their
hopes, but the aged stones and grand old oaks. The Glandier
--ancient Glandierum--was so called from the quantity of glands
(acorns) which, in all times, had been gathered in that
neighbourhood. This land, of present mournful interest, had fallen
back, owing to the negligence or abandonment of its owners, into
the wild character of primitive nature. The buildings alone, which
were hidden there, had preserved traces of their strange
metamorphoses. Every age had left on them its imprint; a bit of
architecture with which was bound up the remembrance of some terrible
event, some bloody adventure. Such was the chateau in which science
had taken refuge--a place seemingly designed to be the theatre of
mysteries, terror, and death.