by Freddy Silva
After handing Gualdino the reins of the Templar brotherhood, Arnaldo returns to near anonymity, performing otherwise subordinate tasks. Two years later, after signing the charter of the town of Redinha as mere “Brother Arnaldo,” the fourth Templar Master of Portugal, a true international man of mystery, gives his last breath unto God, humble to the very end.
This brief stewardship of Paes by the former head of the Ordre de Sion in the twilight years of his life appears as though Prior Arnaldo was instructing his young neighbor from Braga, adding to the speculation that Gualdino’s path was meticulously planned with a certain end in mind. In hindsight, given the careful groundwork laid down by the Templars and their associates in Portugal right from the beginning, Paes’s journeys to the Holy Land served as grooming for his future role, because it was under his tenure as Master that the Knights Templar came to establish a kingdom within a kingdom.
Gualdino Paes.
One of Master Gualdino’s first duties was to preside over the apotheosis of a long-festering confrontation between Afonso Henriques and an Englishman named Gilbert of Hastings, a monk sailing with the Christian army who took part in the siege and conquest of Lisbon in 1147. After the fall of the city, Gilbert was appointed the diocese’s bishop, following the convenient and likely premeditated murder of the incumbent Christian bishop and member of the Eastern Orthodox Church, which itself was involved in a decades-long spit with the Roman Catholics. Thus, his timely death conveniently prevented the Constantinople-based church from reclaiming the Diocese of Lisbon, and it was widely rumored that Gilbert, a Roman Catholic, was heavily involved in his predecessor’s suspicious “removal.”
Gilbert then took it badly that the king awarded the Templars properties in recently reconquered Santarém because its diocese came under the jurisdiction of Lisbon. The Englishman made enormous—and ludicrous—demands (such as a new church actually built by the Templars), maneuvering hard to acquire the benefits enjoyed by the knights by writing a petulant letter to Rome outlining the manner in which he was being disrespected. The situation was a delicate one, not least for Afonso Henriques, who’d secured Lisbon thanks to the convenient timing of an armada of 164 ships sailing along the coast on its way to the Second Crusade. But how did Afonso come to possess knowledge of this armada?
As the ships made landfall on June 16 in Porto to take on food, water, and provisions, they found Bishop Pedro Pitões waiting for them at the quay.13 In the Cistercian’s cloak was a letter from the king: “To Pedro, Bishop of Porto, greetings. If perchance the ships of the Franks should come to you, take care to receive them with all possible friendliness and courtesy; and, in accordance with the agreement which you may conclude with them to stop with me, offer yourself and whoever else they may desire with you as security for its absolute inviolability; and so you may come with them to me at Lisbon. Farewell.”14
Essentially, the king commandeered the fleet and was instructing it to make an unscheduled stop in Lisbon. The proposition would be tempting to the soldiers, especially for the manner in which the region around Lisbon was described by Raol, the armada’s chaplain:
. . . second to none, rich in products of the soil, whether you are looking for the fruit of the trees or the vines. It abounds in everything, both costly articles of luxury and necessary articles of consumption. It also contains gold and silver and is never wanting in iron mines. The olive flourishes. There is nothing unproductive or sterile or which refuses to return a harvest. They do not boil their salt but dig it. Figs are so abundant that we can hardly eat a fraction of them . . . the air is healthful. In its pastures the mares breed with a wonderful fecundity.15
Beside the city flowed the mighty Tejo, at the time so bounteous it was said to consist of two parts water and one part fish and shellfish. Afonso reasoned that this western Eden would tempt the men to stay awhile. And while there they might as well help expel the Moors from the magnificently fortified city and complete the task his father had attempted forty years earlier.
How had Afonso known an armada was arriving in Porto? There exists a cryptic letter written at the time of the ensuing skirmish from Bernard de Clairvaux to his nephew Afonso, alluding to the king having sent an emissary to Clairvaux requesting help in removing the Moors then entrenched in Lisbon: “I have received Your Highness’ letter with great pleasure. . . . What I have done in the matter will be evident from the outcome, as you will see for yourself. You will see with what promptitude I have complied with your request and the exigencies of the matter. Pedro, the brother of your Highness, and a prince worthy of all honour, has acquainted me with your wishes. . . . My son Roland will bring you documents which set forth the liberality of the Holy See.”16
Clearly, Bernard used his influence in Rome in persuading the Holy See to divert a contingent of men scheduled for the Holy Land by cunningly suggesting they remove infidels from the western flank of Europe en route, the natural consequence of which would help his illustrious nephew consolidate the Cistercian-Templar plan to secure a new territory where their New Jerusalem could flourish. A later Cistercian chronicler made this very clear: “[The Cistercian Order] reached out to [Portugal] with spiritual and material assistance, such as the conquests of Santarém, Lisbon . . . and other successes, for which assistance was provided by the intervention of Bernard and his contacts: this is proof of the material assistance our saint [Bernard] placed within reach of Afonso Henriques in the instigation of his reign, for which the king placed his reign under the [Rules] of Clairvaux.”*1917
In shrewdness, both uncle and nephew were alike.
As Bishop Pitões opened negotiations in Porto on the king’s behalf, the Norman and English knights sailing with the fleet at first refused to attack unless the king gave them the right to plunder everything inside Lisbon’s city walls, without sharing as much as a brick with the Portuguese army. Back at his camp to the north of Lisbon, Afonso debated the situation: “Having been constantly harassed by the Muslims, it surely has not been our destiny to accumulate material wealth,” he said, and with that he conceded the terms, with the caveat that “myself and all my men shall have absolutely no share in them.”18 The Crusading soldiers not only stripped Lisbon of its wealth, they also reneged on the provision for the peaceful terms of surrender, forcing Afonso to intervene in stopping the ensuing atrocities.
So Afonso won the city on the back of the Crusades, but since the army was under orders from the pope, technically he owed Rome a small favor. And Rome wished that Bishop Gilbert would be given what he wanted. It was a bittersweet position for Afonso, for the king was no friend of the antics of the Roman Church, and proved so when he promoted a black monk to the post of Bishop of Coimbra with the power to conduct mass. This symbolism of a monk conducting mass—let alone an African—was an affront to the Holy See, who had complete dominion over the anointing of bishops.19
Afonso dug his heels in, and the dispute with Gilbert smoldered for twelve years.
Then suddenly, around 1158, as though Afonso had been waiting for the opportune moment, the king abruptly presented Gilbert with a tempting proposition: if the Templars relinquished their holdings in Santarém, would the bishop show good faith by exchanging them for a massive plot of less-than-prime agricultural land north of Lisbon presently belonging to his diocese, along with a dilapidated old town and its ruined castle?
By now, Afonso had become an acute reader of people, and his offer played to the bishop’s greed and vanity: the cities of Lisbon and Santarém for the bishop, a seemingly worthless tract of land for the Templars.
Greed and vanity triumphed. However, after Gilbert “gave up all his rights and those of his successors to all the churches already founded in that territory, in perpetuity,”20 Afonso Henriques, as arbitrator, and probably in distaste of Gilbert’s morals, withheld for the Templars the two main sites in Santarém demanded by the bishop—the church of Saint James and the temple of Our Lady of Alcáçova.
And so the Templars came away with the s
trategically poor and second-rate agricultural lands of the municipality of Ceras, a crumbling town, and its wreck of a castle.21 The transaction was witnessed by Petrus Silva and accepted without one word of protest by Master Gualdino Paes on behalf of the Order of the Temple.
Why should the Templars negotiate such a ridiculous deal?
Afonso’s abrupt change of heart coincides with a series of interrelated events. Following the taking of Santarém, Gualdino Paes and Arnaldo da Rocha each move to homes in Braga and spend the next six months making plans before returning south to assist the king in preparations for the liberation of Lisbon. After the battle, Paes makes his second journey to Jerusalem, where he teams up with André de Montbard to assist in the conquest of Asqalân.
For André it was a bittersweet time. Shortly before winning the city he learned of the passing of his uncle Bernard de Clairvaux. For Gualdino it was an opportune time and place, because two days later André is appointed Templar Grand Master.
The two knights spend the subsequent three years attending to business in the Holy Land until André himself passes away in January 1156, precipitating Gualdino’s return to Portugal, whereupon he reconnects with Master Arnaldo. In essence, Paes benefited from five years of training under the supervision of not just two Templar Masters but two officials of the Ordre de Sion.22
It is at this point that Afonso Henriques makes his move and negotiates a massive swathe of territory from Bishop Gilbert and the church he represents, then transfers it to the Knights Templar and their recently appointed Master, Gualdino Paes. The timing suggests Paes returned to Portugal with some undisclosed instruction that required forward motion to take place.
Is it possible the vast and apparently worthless territory of Ceras played a part in this unrevealed plan?
The truth is that the territory awarded to the Templars may have been poor compensation for the rich ecclesiastical properties in and around Santarém—two of which the Templars kept anyway—but when combined with adjacent territory later donated by the king, the Templars were suddenly in possession of a massive chunk of land, one-third of Portugal to be exact, large enough to establish a kingdom within a kingdom. On top of this, the lands of Ceras were guaranteed “free from all ecclesiastical interference” from Rome, so when the charter was sanctioned by papal bull in June 1159, the Templars were effectively given the right to build without homage to the church.
Within a matter of weeks Gualdino and the Templars moved out of Santarém to their fifth and final base in Ceras, named for the goddess of agriculture, grain, and fertility of the land. In this lackluster domicile the golden age of the Knights Templar was about to begin, as though the entire exercise had been patiently premeditated.
32
1121. SAINT-OMER. IN THE HOME OF A CRYPTOGRAPHER NAMED LAMBERT . . .
Godefroi de Saint-Omer arrived back in his namesake town after three laborious years digging under Temple Mount with his fellow knights.
As the Flemish town was previously owned by the late Baudoin I, the scrolls secreted in the Templar co-leader’s tunic would be assured safe passage and protection. The rest was up to a local human encyclopedia named Lambert de Saint-Omer, in whose warm study Godefroi now stood.
Lambert de Saint-Omer, retired canon and schoolteacher of the Chapter of Our Virgin, was not only a wise man (he compiled an encyclopedia on human knowledge) but his personal friendship with Godefroi ensured that the deciphering of the scrolls about to be entrusted to him could be conducted in secret and the results kept in the family, so to speak.1
Whatever Godefroi and the Templars found, these scrolls were just the start. After years secreted on Temple Mount they would abruptly leave Jerusalem and within a historically expedient time frame build an enormous empire, amass an estimated £692 billion ($1.1 trillion) in today’s currency, and found Europe’s first independent nation-state. Clearly they discovered something of great significance on the site of Solomon’s Temple, and the speed at which donations of property were given to the Order meant it was of great benefit to counts, kings, and laypeople alike.
Lambert de Saint-Omer.
Assuming the knights numbered no more than a handful, it is safe to assume the donors had not handed over property by being threatened with violence.
What curious information did these scrolls contain? Vows made by incoming Templar recruits such as Arnold of Sournia, who joined the Order in 1142, unequivocally imply a promise of some considerable spiritual benefit: “I, wishing to come to the joys of Paradise, surrender my body and my soul to the Lord God and the Blessed Mary and the brothers of the knighthood of the Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem.”2
One latter-day member of the Ordre de Sion equally describes the Templars’ treasure as spiritual in nature, consisting in part of a secret that would facilitate a major social change.3
33
1947. QUMRAN. TWO GOATHERDS, IN A CAVE, BY THE DEAD SEA . . .
Muhammed and Ahmed of the Ta’amireh tribe stumbled upon the weathered scrolls buried in one of the caves beside the ruins of a former community of mystics called Essenes, who existed around the time of John the Baptist. Until this fortuitous moment, the “treasure” of the Essenes was considered all but lost.
The crumbling parchments*20 revealed that in addition to a stockpile of gold bullion and silver ornaments hidden under Temple Mount from an advancing Roman army, “an indeterminable treasure” had also been secreted there.
Treasure typically implies one thing. Money. The sudden rise from rags to riches by the Order of the Temple indicates the brotherhood directed all its resources to find, dig, and spend a hoard of loot. And yet if they become overnight millionaires from this Essene heist, why should they need or even accept an unprecedented sum of donations from people all over Europe? Furthermore, the central caveat for joining the Templar Order was the renouncement of personal wealth; in fact, all knights had to honor a vow of chastity, obedience, and to hold all property in trust.*21 Clearly, money or the accumulation of personal wealth was not a prime motivation. Had the knights been looking for buried treasure there were far easier ways for noblemen to get rich than to become knights but work as miners laboring for years through solid rock in dangerous and hot and claustrophobic conditions! They could just as easily have held on to their inheritances.
A clue appears in the original rites of Royal Arch Freemasonry, in which the ritual of entry into the three degrees describes, allegorically, how the Templars found a secret buried chamber under Temple Mount. Access to this chamber is said to have involved the removal of a rectangular keystone with an iron ring. Once lowered inside they discovered an important scroll, but “being without light” they were unable to interpret the information it contained.1 Once they had “received light,” however, the men came to understand its knowledge.
The light they required did not come from a torch but its figurative interpretation: enlightenment. (In the Masonic ritual the initiate is blindfolded; then the blindfold is removed.) From that point the initiate undertakes an obligation to rebuild the former temple.2 To all intents and purposes the ritual is a reenactment of a true event, and the scroll is nothing short of an archive containing spiritual laws, the Word of God.
The word archive derives from the Greek arkheia (magisterial residence), a very apt description for a place where God resides; its root is arkhe. But there’s more. Still assuming that the Templars were seeking nothing more than financial treasure, an examination of the etymological fingerprint of that word reveals otherwise. Treasure in Portuguese is tesouro, whose Greek root is thesauros (a storehouse, a treasure). Interestingly, in old Portuguese both words are interchangeable and synonymous with a treasure of learning, the latter often equated with books or a library.3 So in a manner of speaking, the Templars did discover a treasure, but not so much a treasure of gold as a treasure of words.
But an ark containing a treasure of words? Are we dealing with a receptacle housing laws that, metaphorically speaking, descended from a very high
source? Did the Templars recover the Ark of the Covenant, or perhaps some of its contents?
It is written that the temple of Solomon was built for the singular purpose of housing the Ark, and just before its Holy of Holies was breached by an encroaching Babylonian army, the sacred box was sealed in a secret room beneath Temple Mount.4 It is also written that the Laws of God placed in this receptacle were important enough to merit that any stranger who approached the Ark without proper training was punished on pain of death. This seems rather a harsh attitude. But if by “stranger” the account actually refers to a non-initiate, this would be consistent with Egyptian Mysteries schools’ principles in which only adepts and initiates of the temple could be entrusted with hermetic and gnostic secrets lest such knowledge be used irresponsibly.
The laws placed in the Ark of the Covenant should not be confused with the Ten Commandments, because those are hardly secret; even by Moses’s time, around 1300 BC, they were commonplace. In fact, these Commandments—all forty-two of them—were already in vogue as the Utterances of the Pharaoh during the time of Thutmosis III, affirmations for the orderly conduct of one’s personal life to ensure a favorable outcome when the soul finally departs the physical body for the afterlife.
In truth the Ark contained far more than Commandments. According to scripture, when God instructed Moses to come up to Sinai, he said, “I will give thee tables of stone, and a law, and commandments which I have written, that thou mayest teach them.”5 That’s three separate items. In Exodus 34:27–28 it is made clear that the Tables of Testimony were written by God, and the Ten Commandments were written separately by Moses. The church has strategically ignored the Tables and focused on the Commandments as the important issue.6
With regard to the Templars, it is the Tables of Law that are of interest because they supposedly contain a kind of cosmic equation. They are a precious instruction, an understanding of creative forces at work in nature. Anyone in possession of such information has direct access to how the universe functions and the very laws of cause and effect. The power of the land is said to be derived from these instructions; thus, they are in themselves a means of power and certainly not meant to be entrusted to the ignorant or the foolish.