by Glenn Cooper
‘But you did not find the Grail,’ he said. ‘Alas, not,’ I replied, ‘but with proper funding and resources I believe I might be successful.’
He astounded me by offering to employ me as a member of his personal staff, assigned to work in the SS heritage bureau, the Ahnenerbe, which was headed by a man I did not know: an administrator named Wolfram Sievers, whom I subsequently learned was something of a bully boy despite being a serviceable musician. I would be given a generous salary, a secretary and, more importantly, a budget for travel and research. I inquired how he thought an esoteric academician like myself could be of use to the Reich.
He began by speaking vaguely about the desire he shared with the Führer to connect the aspirations of the German people to the rich Aryan heritage of the past. ‘The German people,’ he said, ‘respect the traditions of Christianity, but these traditions had to be put into the correct Aryan framework.’ Then he got more specific. He wanted me to lead the effort to scour Europe and the middle Orient to find and procure an assemblage of all the authentic, sacred relics of Christ. The German people would take pride in their ownership and appreciate the Reich for securing their safekeeping in what was likely to be a turbulent future. He was planning to house the artifacts at the SS castle at Wewelsburg in a special shrine he was going to build.
He produced a handwritten list of the relics he desired. The Holy Grail was there, of course, but also the Holy Lance, fragments of the True Cross, the Holy Shroud, the Crown of Thorns, the Sandals and Cap of Christ, the Burial Cloth, the Holy Nails.
The Grail has been my main area of scholarship, but I offered my opinion on the Shroud and the Lance. The only credible candidate for the shroud was in plain sight at Turin and the spearhead in Vienna was likely to be authentic, given its well-documented history. I had never given much thought to the other more minor relics. Himmler told me that he wasn’t worried about getting his hands on the Shroud of Turin, since he was certain Mussolini would deal it away for the right price. Enigmatically, he assured me that since the lance was already in Germanic hands he wasn’t concerned about that either. I wonder if the Austrians would agree!
Then he matter-of-factly mentioned that I would have to join the SS if I was to work for him. I gulped and nodded. I wasn’t going to destroy the opportunity of a lifetime by telling him what I thought of his SS goons.
He concluded by asking me where I thought I would begin my quest for the relics. I thought for a moment before replying that a good place to start was the greatest library of Christian texts: the Vatican Apostolic Library.
Five months later, Otto Rahn, climbed the stairs to his Berlin flat, dropped his battered leather suitcases on the rug and flopped onto his bed in a state of utter exhaustion. How many countries had he visited, how many cities? How many notebooks had he filled with his tight scrawl?
When he finally awoke he went to his favorite café for coffee and pastries then returned to his desk to take stock of his travels. He carefully removed the items from the paper and cloth packing materials and made labels in his best calligraphy. He set up his camera and tripod over the desk and positioned his gooseneck lamp for maximum illumination. Then, one by one, he photographed each object beside a metal rule.
The smallest artifacts were the thorns. He had been amazed at just how many purported Holy Thorns were scattered throughout Europe. Rahn had joked to the SS minder assigned to travel with him, that he didn’t wonder so much about which churches claimed to possess thorns from Christ’s crown, but which ones did not make the claim. Rahn acquired them from chapels in France, Spain, Flanders, Italy, Poland and Czechoslovakia. A combination of greed and fear generally served to separate a relic from a relic holder. Rahn travelled with hard currency and made it known that he personally represented Heinrich Himmler, a man whose reputation was known throughout the continent. Impoverished dioceses could generally be persuaded to part with their relics for the right price, but if a deal was not forthcoming, Rahn would hire local thugs to break into a church in the middle of the night and steal what could not be bought. Of course, all of the currency, threats and thievery in the world couldn’t separate famous relics from places like: Notre Dame in Paris, the Basilica of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem, St Peter’s in the Vatican or the Cathedrals of Monza or Milan.
He laid out each of his fourteen thorns, handling them with tweezers because of their delicacy. He had acquired only the species that his botany consultants had told him were typical of the thorny shrubs found in and near Jerusalem. European thorns were obvious fakes. The smallest spike Rahn possessed was two centimeters, the longest, five. When each was photographed and repacked, he began dealing with the even larger assemblage of petrified pieces of wood, all claimed to be fragments of Christ’s cross. These ranged from pinky-nail-sized chunks to pieces as long as a hand.
Five fragments of cloth were next, each stored in its own airmail envelope. Some were allegedly from Christ’s burial cloth, others from his burial cap. Most were the size of postage stamps and he also handled these with tweezers, because of their gossamer frailty. Finally, there were three small pieces of leather, said to be the remains of Christ’s sandals.
The dogs that did not bark that day were those relics Rahn had failed to find or failed to acquire. The Holy Grail, the object of his own decades-long quest, remained an enigma. He would mount another prolonged expedition to the Cathar caves and labyrinthine caverns of southern France as soon as he was able. Famed relics of Holy Nails and the True Cross were on public display in the great churches of Europe and Jerusalem. Rahn made a catalogue of these for Himmler’s review, but that was as far as he could go. Besides the Holy Lance relic at the Imperial Treasury in Vienna, another famous candidate for the Spear of Longinus was at the Vatican. And finally, Rahn had failed to visit Turin, as the shroud was, at least to him, unobtainable.
When he was done with the artifacts, Rahn began to review his notebooks.
Volume I chronicled his research at the Vatican Library, where he had presented his credentials as an expert in the crusade by the Medieval Church against the Cathars. The chief archivist was aware of Rahn’s book and eagerly produced a copy for his signature. From then on, Rahn had access to all manner of manuscripts, books and papal edicts. During his fortnight of daily attendance at the library, he had spent most of his time doing Grail research, particularly on his pet theory of a Grail-Templar-Cathar connection. But he had uncovered one particularly intriguing nugget of information, which was on a wholly different topic that he would highlight in his report to Himmler and Wolfram Sievers, his boss at the Ahnenerbe. It had come from an old Greek manuscript with the library accession code, VAT. GR. 1001 and it had left him perplexed but excited.
The next seven notebook volumes concerned the particulars of his relic hunts throughout Europe. He eagerly opened Volume VIII, the notebook that covered the week he had spent in Yerevan. His findings would factor prominently in his report to Himmler and Wolfram Sievers.
When at the Vatican Library, Rahn had requested archival copies of the works of Eusebius of Caesarea – a Roman historian who died in the mid-fourth century – and the book, Ecclesiastical History, written by Theodoret, a fifth-century Cypriot. The library had a copy of the original text in which Theodoret wrote about Empress Helena, the first collector of the relics of Christ. The empress had gone so far as to commission her own excavations in Palestine, to locate the tomb of Jesus and the site of his crucifixion. According to Theodoret, Helena discovered the True Cross and the Holy Nails. Rahn had read this about the nails:
The mother of the emperor, on learning the accomplishment of her desire, gave orders that a portion of the nails should be inserted in the royal helmet, in order that the head of her son might be preserved from the darts of his enemies. The other portion of the nails she ordered to be formed into the bridle of his horse, not only to ensure the safety of the emperor, but also to fulfill an ancient prophecy; for long before Zechariah, the prophet, had predicted that there shall be u
pon the bridles of the horses Holiness unto the Lord Almighty.
Rahn had hoped that the Eusebius would provide more details about what might have happened to Helena’s nails. Eusebius had authored numerous texts on early Church history, but what had specifically interested Rahn was his Life of Constantine: a nearly contemporaneous account of the first Christian Emperor.
After reading the Life of Constantine in Latin, Rahn had been disappointed at the lack of specificity concerning Helena’s Jerusalem discoveries. In discussing the book with the Vatican librarian, Rahn had learned that Eusebius, of Greek descent, had written his books in his native language, not Latin. The Latin versions of Life of Constantine were sixth century or later. There were no known copies of the book in the original Greek.
‘Pity,’ Rahn had said.
‘Why is that?’ the librarian had asked.
‘In my experience, there are occasionally important textual differences between original manuscripts and their subsequent translations.’
‘I could not agree more,’ the librarian had said. ‘I don’t know if it would make any contribution to your scholarship, but I do know that the Latin translations of Constantine were based on very early Armenian translations of the lost Greek manuscripts.’
‘And where might these be?’ Rahn had asked.
‘They are housed in Church archives in Armenia. In Yerevan.’
Rahn’s reception in Armenia had been frosty; the relationship between Hitler’s Germany and Stalin’s Soviet Union was teetering on the brink of collapse. But he had opened the doors of the archives of the Armenian Apostolic Church the way he had opened doors in other cities: by first opening his satchel of Reichsmarks. His money had also secured the services of a young translator who sat at his side for a week, working through a pair of Armenian texts: one, a seemingly complete version of all four books of the Life of Constantine, the other, an earlier but clearly fragmentary version containing only Book One and parts of Book Two.
Rahn started with the complete manuscript, comparing the Armenian version to the Latin version he’d read at the Vatican. With some minor exceptions, the texts closely matched. Then, on a whim, he decided to repeat the exercise with the earlier, partial manuscript and there he discovered something of considerable interest.
In Book One, Chapter XXXVII, the completed Armenian manuscript had this to say of Emperor Constantine’s defeat of Maxentius’s army in Italy:
Constantine, however, filled with compassion on account of all these miseries, began to arm himself with all warlike preparation against the tyranny. Assuming therefore the Supreme God as his patron, invoking His Christ to be his preserver and aid, and setting the victorious trophy, the salutary symbol, in front of his soldiers and bodyguard, he marched with his whole forces, trying to obtain again for the Romans the freedom they had inherited from their ancestors.
And whereas, Maxentius, trusting more in his magic arts than in the affection of his subjects, dared not even advance outside the city gates, but had guarded every place and district and city subject to his tyranny, with large bodies of soldiers. The emperor, confiding in the help of God, advanced against the first and second and third divisions of the tyrant’s forces, defeated them all with ease at the first assault and made his way into the very interior of Italy.
Yet in Book One, Chapter XXXVII of the earlier, fragmentary, Armenian manuscript, the second paragraph of the chapter had a slightly different second paragraph:
And whereas, Maxentius, trusting more in his magic arts than in the affection of his subjects, dared not even advance outside the city gates, but had guarded every place and district and city subject to his tyranny, with large bodies of soldiers. The emperor, confiding in the help of God, advanced against the first and second and third divisions of the tyrant’s forces, the Holy Lance glowing like fire whenever it touched his bridle, and defeated them all with ease at the first assault, and made his way into the very interior of Italy.
When Rahn reread his journal entry for that day of discovery his skin prickled with the same excitement. He hadn’t been able to celebrate in Yerevan, what with his joyless SS minder watching his every movement, but now he was back home and he knew how to party in Berlin.
There was a sharp, persistent knocking at his door. Rahn staggered to the door in his dressing gown in the grasp of a crushing hangover.
‘What?’ he asked through the closed door.
‘Herr Rahn, please open the door.’
‘Who is it?’
‘The door, if you please.’
There were two SS officers. He recognized neither. The ranking man was a young major with a face of stone.
‘Might we have a word?’ the major said after giving his name.
‘You might but I cannot until I’ve had a coffee,’ Rahn croaked.
They waited in his sitting room until he returned with his Moka pot, a new Italian invention Rahn had taken on his travels.
‘Care for some?’ he asked the officers.
They waved him off. Rahn blinked in gratitude as the black coffee passed his lips.
‘Now, what can I do for you?’
‘We received a disturbing report last night about you,’ the major said.
‘Did you?’
‘You were observed by someone known to us at the Eldorado Cabaret in Nollendorfplatz.’
Rahn stiffened and had another sip of coffee. ‘So?’
‘You are aware that it is a bar for homosexuals,’ the major said.
‘I hadn’t noticed.’
‘Beyond your attendance, our source reported that you were highly intoxicated and behaving in an overt manner.’
‘Overt?’
‘You were seen to go into one of the rooms at the rear of the establishment. This is where the homosexual activities occur.’
Rahn drank the rest of the coffee in a series of gulps. ‘What is it you want from me?’
‘To inform you what you already know, that homosexual activity is illegal and under the Law for the Protection of German Blood and German Honor such activity is punishable by death.’
‘Are you here to arrest me?’
‘We are not the Gestapo. If the intent was to arrest you, they would be here this morning.’
‘Then what?’
‘It seems you are, to a certain extent, immune from prosecution given the work you perform for the Ahnenerbe. You may consider this a warning. A stern warning. Similar behavior in the future cannot and will not be ignored or tolerated.’
Rahn exhaled deeply. All he could do was nod when the officers stood.
‘I hope you realize how lucky you are,’ the other officer said, speaking for the first time.
When they were gone, Rahn sat at his typewriter to begin his report. As he arched his fingers to begin he realized that his hands were still shaking.
When he entered Himmler’s office, the chief of police was drumming his fingers on Rahn’s report of 19 October lying on his desk.
‘Sit down, Rahn,’ Himmler ordered so sternly that he was scared the episode at the Eldorado had not been forgiven after all.
He watched as Himmler picked up the report, flipped to the third page and then put it down again.
‘Interesting account of your travels,’ Himmler said. ‘Some profound disappointments, especially with respect to the Grail, tempered, perhaps, by some intriguing new findings.’
If Himmler’s dour demeanor was the result of failing to locate the Grail, rather than his being caught in flagrante delicto, then Rahn was highly relieved.
‘Yes, indeed,’ he said, ‘I would have loved to present you the Grail on a velvet cushion but I feel certain I might yet succeed in the future.’
‘We shall see,’ Himmler said. ‘No candidates for Holy Nails, then?’
‘No, Herr Himmler, I was unable to obtain any nails as all of them are quite famous and lavishly displayed within churches in Paris, Jerusalem, Vatican City and several shrines throughout Italy. There was no chance of quietly purchas
ing such notable artifacts.’
‘Fine, fine. Before we get to the more interesting matters, let’s have a look at the rather mundane assemblage of artifacts you were able to harvest.’
Rahn laid out the thorns and all the bits of wood, cloth and leather on the conference table. Himmler inspected them from afar and reiterated his disappointment.
‘What makes you think any of these items are authentic?’ he asked.
‘I make no claim as to authenticity,’ Rahn said. ‘It is notoriously difficult to trace the provenance of a thorn or a piece of cloth. If I were to find the Grail within the Pyrenees, I would be quite confident of its provenance given my research into the mythology of the region. Likewise, given extensive writings concerning the Lance of Longinus, I would be willing to assert that the lance in Vienna is the True Lance or that the Shroud of Turin is the true shroud, provided we could exclude medieval fakery.’
‘And the nails?’
‘It would also be difficult to confirm their authenticity. As I noted in my report, there is evidence from Theodoret’s Ecclesiastical History that the nails were fashioned into Constantine’s bridle and helmet, but linking the text to specific artifacts in specific cathedrals is problematic.’