The Furness Secret

by Mark Williams

  January 1185 A.D. – Jerusalem – Helping the Order

  The last two decades had been good to William Marshal. He had performed loyal service at the royal court in England. Latterly, to the eldest son of Henry II, nicknamed the Young King even whilst his father was still alive.

  William Marshal had been a key member of the court of the younger Henry. Some time prior to the royal heir’s premature death, the Prince had his dressmaker stitch the Crusader’s cross into his coat. Dying, the Young King had been consumed with guilt about the lightness with which he had taken his crusading responsibility. William had promised Henry on his deathbed, that he would take the cloak to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. That he would place it on the tomb where the body of Jesus had been buried.

  The journey from England to the Holy Land had been long and arduous. But at the beginning of 1185, during the month of January, William had eventually arrived in Jerusalem. It was time to fulfil his promise. The Marshal had located the place he sought. He moved through the magnificent entrance arch and entered the church proper. He knelt down in front of the altar and reverentially placed the cloak down on the floor.

  William was glad to have finally discharged his duty. Henry II, the Young King’s father, had been pleased with the knight’s decision to make the trip and he hoped for some further royal patronage when he returned to Europe. As the Marshal stood, and turned to leave the altar, he felt a hand touch him lightly on the shoulder.

  Turning, two men were to be found standing close to him on either side. The red cross emblems identified them immediately. The one who had touched him spoke quietly.

  “You are William Marshal?”

  He nodded.

  “We have been sent word of your arrival. The Templar Master has a request of you, before you return to England. Will you hear him out?”

  William was intrigued. But he was by now an experienced knight and would allow no emotion to show on his face. So, he merely gave another nod.

  “Then, please. Follow us.”

  The three men walked back through the church and emerged into Jerusalem’s bright sunlight. They strolled through the city to the Templar headquarters. Entering, William was ushered into the presence of Gerard, the Grand Master. Looking up, he addressed his visitor.

  “Welcome to our humble lodgings. I received word earlier this week of your arrival in the City. I know that your former master had taken the cross and I was hoping that you could be persuaded to assist our Holy Order during your stay?”

  An eyebrow was raised at the Marshal who determined he had nothing to lose by hearing him out.

  The Templar Master had hoped that the Englishman would agree to listen to his position. And had decided some background information on the present situation of the Holy City would be in order.

  These were difficult times for Jerusalem. The succession had often been an issue since the Christians had reclaimed the city from the barbarous Islamic heathens nearly a century ago.

  The previous King Baldwin IV had died recently and his son had nominally succeeded him. Raymond of Tripoli was acting as regent. But another local nobleman, Guy of Luisignan who was a vassal of the English King Henry II also had a claim to the throne. Gerard explained to the Marshal that he was spending all his time trying to keep the peace between the two warring camps.

  This left little time for the Grand Master to concentrate on keeping the Holy City safe from the Muslim forces which were an ever present threat. On top of all that, the winter rains had been almost non-existent this year and Jerusalem was threatened by the prospect of mass starvation. And then he went on to explain what he needed from the English nobleman.

  “So, you can see we live in threatening times.”

  The Marshal could indeed.

  “It would be most useful.”

  He repeated for effect.

  “Most useful, if we could negotiate some sort of truce with the forces of Islam. At present, the strongest amongst their leaders is a man known as Saladin. He is currently with his supporters some way north in the city of Damascus. I would respectfully ask whether you would consider heading a delegation in a visit to that city to negotiate some sort of agreement?”

  “But why me? Surely you have many hundreds of Templars who are much more familiar with the customs of the area than I?”

  “You speak the truth. However I am afraid that our reputation is rather low with our Islamic neighbours. I have a suspicion that a request direct from our Order would be badly received. I could though, arrange for you to be presented as a representative of the King of Jerusalem.”

  The English knight considered the request. He was unsure of how to proceed. The task sounded dangerous and he wasn’t completely convinced of Gerard’s explanation of why the Templars could not attend Saladin themselves. The Grand Master seemed to sense his hesitation.

  “I can assure you William Marshal, that the Order would be most grateful for your assistance. The Temple in London would be available to provide you support on your return. And of course you will be serving the Lord in the land where Christ himself had his ministry.”

  Gerard raised his eyes reverentially to the heavens, bowed his head and clasped his bony hands together. Rather than serving the Lord, William was more convinced by the offer of future help from the London Templar Chapter. Somewhat reluctantly he agreed to head north.

  In actual fact, luck was once again smiling on the English nobleman. Saladin was only too ready to grant a truce. He had problems of his own defending his borders in the east, where there was already trouble in Mosul. The Muslim leader was anxious to avoid any simultaneous hostilities with the Christians to the south.

  So despite Saladin’s commitment to the jihad, the Holy War, he not only agreed to peace but also to provide sufficient food supplies to replace the lost harvest around Jerusalem. The Marshal returned in triumph to the Holy City and the regent Raymond of Tripoli was feted by the population. William returned home, hopeful that he had helped to ensure a strong Christian Jerusalem. That he had assisted a city that could exist in peace with its Islamist neighbours. His hope was in vain. The peace was to prove short-lived.

  August 1185 A.D. – France – Listening to the Priest

  It was summer in the blacksmith’s shop and Raoul took every opportunity to run errands to escape from the hellish atmosphere of the furnace. Today more raw iron was required. The smithy obtained this from a pit outside the city walls. As the valued apprentice, Raoul was in charge of the mechanics of obtaining the basic material. One of the labourers accompanied him. He pulled a cart that they had borrowed for transportation purposes.

  A mile or so, outside the city walls, the two came to the hilltop that held their charcoal pit. The pit was full of layers of ore and hot charcoal and sealed with earth at the top. Some of the charcoal mixed with the ore and added carbon. In this way the blacksmith had access to a crude form of steel.

  Raoul removed the seal from the pit and drew off some of the molten iron. Apprentice and labourer needed to wait for the lump to harden, before they could carry it back to the city. The two men settled down to wait on the grass bank of the hillside. The sun was beating down pleasantly and they looked forward to a welcome period of rest.

  Raoul’s peace was disturbed by a low buzz emanating from the foot of the slope. Peering into the distance, he could see a small crowd gathered round a tiny, stooped, wizened man. Maybe he was a teacher, or perhaps a monk. Raoul was intrigued. Apart from the priests in church he had never had any formal teaching. He turned to the labourer.

  “Stay here and watch over our metal. I am minded to move down the hill and find out what so interests the crowd.”

  The older man grunted. In his experience nothing good ever came out of exercising curiosity. He had no intention of moving.

  The youth moved down the slope, picking his way carefully over the rocks pitting the grassy bank. As he reached the bottom of the hill, he approached the grou
p cautiously. But no one paid him any attention. They were hanging on the words of the man in front of them. He was speaking quietly but with a fierce intensity.

  In graphic detail, the teacher described the horrors of daily life in twelfth century Europe. Living at the will of your feudal master. He railed how most people were left with not enough to eat. How illness was rife, throughout each and every kingdom, with war, famine and pestilence stalking the land. How, the preacher argued could any benevolent God, the God of the New Testament, allow the world to be as cruel as this.

  Raoul began to lean forward, listening with interest. The preacher was warming to his subject. And he was clearly brim-full of enthusiasm. His brown cloak hung loosely from his shoulders. His hair was spreading lankly down his back. He looked slightly dishevelled. But his eyes were clear, blue and full of fervour. He scanned the crowd, fixing his stare on each of them in turn.

  “Brothers and sisters, please listen to my words, I implore you. Which of you has not seen the wickedness and suffering abroad in this land?”

  His low voice cut clearly through the heaviness of the summer air.

  “Remember, my friends, the devastating famine of last year. The crop failures and the poor and weak, lying starving in our cities, towns and villages.”

  The crowd murmured, the memory was still strong.

  “Remember also, I beg you, what came with the hunger. Afflictions of every kind. Skin, mouth, bowels, limbs! And what of those that profited from the disaster. Hoarding what little food remained. And then the poor forced to sacrifice what little they had to pay the prices demanded to save themselves from starving!”

  Then came the lines that often caused alarm.

  “I ask you fellow citizens. What kind of God could allow this? The God of whom Jesus spoke is the God of everlasting love and peace. The material world in which we exist is not of his making. That is the work of Satan. The Church of Rome is too fond of the riches to be found in this earthly realm, to accept that we should care nought for worldly goods!”

  A shocked hush settled across the listeners. Furtive glances were exchanged between neighbours. Then suddenly they all drifted away like so many wraiths. This was heresy, pure and simple. To even entertain such thoughts was a wild and dangerous move. Let alone in public.

  But Raoul was still standing in the same place. The preacher smiled and beckoned him forward. Most of the time the crowd reacted as they had this afternoon. Converts were few and far between. It was a brave man who would risk following his words.

  The traveller spent the next hour teaching the young man the basics of his belief system. He spoke of how salvation could only be achieved by the gaining of spiritual knowledge. And how Jesus had taught how to follow this path. The preacher poured scorn on the practices of the Catholic Church. With its rituals and icons, decorated churches and early wealth, he regarded it as nothing less than the Church of Satan. Corrupting the pure message of Christ. Raoul thought of the precious objects in the church. He could see the preacher’s point.

  But before he had chance to get into much detail, it was time to return to the pit. The metal would have cooled sufficiently by now. However, as he left, he arranged a meeting place in the city with the preacher where he could learn more.

  August 1186 A.D. – France – Becoming a Priest

  Raoul had barely slept. He had woken at the crack of dawn filled with a sense of excitement and anticipation. Today was the day he’d spent the past twelve months thinking about. Today was the day he was about to take the ultimate step and undergo the Consolamentum ceremony. This would take him to the ultimate level within his chosen religion. He would be a full Cathar, part of an organised group of believers who took their name from katharos, the Greek word for pure.

  He was about to leave the blacksmith’s shop that had been his life. He felt as though he should be filled with guilt at abandoning the man who had taken him in as an orphan. Who had fed him, housed him and provided him with a trade and a living. But as he had learnt more about the Cathar tradition he had become convinced, that to follow it was his destiny.

  This morning after the ceremony, he would become a Perfecti, a priest within the church. Once he was a Perfecti his whole lifestyle would change. He would be expected to pray fifteen times a day and to fast on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Three times a year he would need to fast for forty days, to reflect the suffering of Jesus in the desert. When visiting believers, he would need to give a blessing and provide a gift in return for food.

  But to Raoul it would be worth the price. He would become the embodiment of the eternal spirit. And when he died, he would be saved for all eternity. He’d been shown all that was to happen at this morning’s service and he was anxious to get on with proceedings.

  As he dressed he could barely contain his growing sense of excitement. After breaking his fast, he made his way to the barn just outside the city walls where the service was to be held. Entering through the open door, he was reassured by the familiar face of his teacher, who was to act as the leader for the ceremony. He opened his arms in a welcoming gesture and turned to the small crowd of fellow Perfecti, who were gathered as witnesses.

  “Bless us.

  Have mercy on us.

  Amen.

  Let it be done to us, according to Thy word. May all our sins be forgiven.”

  The preacher bowed his head and the crowd followed and recited the Lord’s Prayer.

  The leader of the ceremony, raised his head, and looked round at the gathered priests. He brought his hands together gently and began the next stage of the service.

  “In the beginning was the Word.

  And the Word was with God.

  And the Word was God.

  All things were made by it, and without it there was nothing. In it was life and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in the darkness, but the darkness comprehended it not.”

  Raoul’s teacher then took the congregation and most importantly Raoul himself, through the vows under which he would be expected to live. Even though he had heard the words many times before, he nonetheless listened with rapt attention. This would change his life forever.

  The explanation over, the priest walked over to a small table that had been set up against the far wall of the barn. On top was placed a copy of the gospels, covered by a small white cloth. He gestured Raoul to join him in front of the table. The priest turned to face the young man and said to him.

  “Raoul, you wish to receive the spiritual baptism, by which the eternal spirit is given in the Church of God. This Holy Baptism has been passed down through the Church of God from the apostles and then from Good Men to Good Men and will continue to do so until the end of the world.

  Raoul, you must keep the commandments of Christ to the utmost of your ability. You must not kill, lie, swear an oath or steal. You should turn the other cheek to those who persecute you. You must hate this world and its works and the things that are made of this world.”

  Raoul knew what was expected of him. He looked the priest squarely in the face and replied.

  “I will.”

  The older man turned to the table and picked up the cloth-covered book. He placed it gently on the young man’s head. The entire congregation gathered round and placed their right hand on the book. They all fell silent in prayer for a few quiet moments. The preacher then kissed Raoul on the cheek and then his lips touched the book. This gesture was repeated from the other Perfecti in attendance.

  The ceremony was now complete. Raoul felt a sense of inner peace rush through his body. But he also felt a sense of responsibility. He knew that he would be expected to keep his vows for the rest of his earthly life.

  August 1187 A.D. – The Templars Retreat

  The Templar movement had gone from strength to strength. By the time of the Second Crusade in the 1140’s, they were already an extremely powerful movement. Apart from their headquarters in Jerusalem there were Temples spread acros
s much of the western European world. Indeed it was through these Temples that much of the recruitment for new knights took place. The Templars were strong enough, that Pope Eugenius III and King Louis VII, had planned the second assault on the forces of Islam from the Paris Temple. Over one hundred and thirty Templar knights were in attendance at the launch of the campaign.

  During crusades, the Christian, or Frankish forces in the Holy Land, or Outremer, were defended by a series of heavily fortified castles. They were remote, isolated places in which secular knights were not interested. But they were ideally suited to the Templars, who by nature of their Order’s rule lived austere, monastic lifestyles.

  In the 1150’s the Templars had taken over the key fortress of Tortosa. In the following decade they added a castle at Ahamant, and at Saphet in Galilee. In 1170, they were also given control over La Feve. This was a garrison occupying a critical position on the route between Jerusalem and Acre. All of the castles came with accompanying land, whose revenues would help support them.

  Nor were the Templars the only fighting Christian organisation by this time. The Order of Hospitallers of St John of Jerusalem actually pre-dated the Templars. They were originally set up to provide medical care to Christian pilgrims in the Holy Land. But perhaps inspired by the Templars, by 1126, Hospitallers were serving in the army of the King of Jerusalem. And by the 1130’s the Hospitallers were entrusted with the garrisoning of frontier fortresses. The Templars whilst grateful of the support were nonetheless insistent on a clear separation between the two organisations. They were not prepared or willing to share their secrets or their beliefs.

  By the 1180’s the strength of the Templar organisation was immense. It rivalled, and in many cases surpassed that of the medieval European kingdoms. The Order had vast stretches of land and enormous wealth, spread right across western Europe and Outremer. It was a force to be reckoned with, both militarily and politically.