The Furness Secret

by Mark Williams

  It was the start of a firm friendship between Pope Boniface and Jacques de Molay. Throughout the three years of his journey around the western Christian states, mutual gifts of land and influence were exchanged between the two men.

  New Years Eve 2010 – Charles’s House

  The historian wasn’t one for wild celebrations. New Year’s was just another evening for him. He’d had dinner with his wife at the usual time, and had retired to his study. He wanted to spend a little more time with his photos of the Abbey chamber.

  The images of the locker wall were laid out sequentially on his desk. They were all close ups, so it needed the best part of twenty to make up the entire panorama. Shaking his head ruefully, he examined each in turn. The locker doors were displayed in great detail. The carpenters who’d constructed them had done an excellent job. They maybe looked only a hundred years old.

  He let his mind wander, trying to speculate what might have been stored here when the Abbey was still at the height of its power. Charles peered intently at the image of the last door. There was what looked like some kind of damage in the corner. Strange, the rest of them were so well preserved.

  He picked up a magnifying glass and squinted at the last section. As it came into focus it became clear that it wasn’t damaged after all. It looked like some sort of carved writing. Henry knew that medieval masons often left a mark in stone. Was this similar, maybe some sort of ancient carpenter’s mark?

  He looked at the letters again. It was one word and a date. He screwed up his eye further and worked out the word was Dalton, a nearby town. And the date was MCCCXXII, 1322. Over a century after the chamber had been constructed.

  Leaning back in his chair, Henry suddenly shot bolt upright. Could it be? Was it another clue from the Middle Ages? The historian had created a few local history web sites in his time. And he knew the significance of that date.

  May 1307 A.D. – France

  After his successful mission to the west, the Grand Master had returned to Cyprus at the end of 1296. The next ten years were spent consolidating the position of their island base.

  Several raids on the Holy Land had taken place. The most successful had been those where the Christians had been able to join forces with the Mongols against the armies of Islam. But although they had enjoyed a few minor successes, they had not been able to re-establish any stronghold on the mainland.

  It would seem that nothing short of a papal backed crusade would succeed. Jacques had therefore been pleased when he had received in 1306, a request from the new Pope to discuss that very issue.

  Pope Clement V had replaced Jacques’ friend Boniface as the Holy Father, after the brief pontificate of Benedict XI. Pope Boniface had died a broken man, exhausted by seven years of feuding with the King of France. The two men had quarrelled constantly over the extent of Philip’s attempts to exercise control over the clergy in France. In 1302, Boniface had issued the papal bull, Unam sanctum, which emphasised the Pope’s superiority over any temporal monarch. Philip found any such limit of his power abhorrent and had responded furiously. Accusing Boniface of heresy, he even had the Pope temporarily imprisoned. Philip loathed the man. Any friend of Boniface’s was likely to earn the King’s undying enmity.

  In order to meet Clement’s summons, Jacques had travelled to France in December of 1306. The Pope however had fallen ill and it was May of the following year, before he was able to obtain an audience. De Molay was seated in front of the Pope one fine spring morning. But the discussions were not as warm and cordial as with his predecessor.

  Pope Clement was exasperated. It was not an emotion with which he was usually familiar, but in his opinion, de Molay was being obstinate in the extreme. It should have been obvious to the most obtuse of men that the Templars were under pressure. And it was from no less a figure than Philip the Fair, King of France. But Jacques seemed too blinkered to see what to Clement were the clearest of danger signals.

  “So you are determined then Templar Master. You will not yield, despite my warnings. My grave warnings, of how this will be received by the King.”

  “Your Holiness, I beg your support. All of our battles over the last 100 years, are they to be for nought? Are we to allow the barbaric heretics of Islam, free rein over that most holy of lands?”

  His Holiness breathed hard and forced his voice to remain calm and quiet.

  “Jacques, you must recognise the limitations that our times place upon us. The plan of the Hospitallers for a small expedition, rather than the campaign you suggest, can you not agree that it has much within it to recommend? Not least because it is strongly supported by the King.”

  At the mention of the Hospitallers, de Molay could not keep from snorting. Even in the presence of the Pope.

  “No, your Holiness, I see nothing within that execrable scheme which I could recommend to any Believer.”

  The Hospitallers did not have the same level of combat experience of the Templars. And Jacques’ experience of the small-scale campaigns over the last ten years had convinced him that the plan was doomed to failure.

  In actual fact, the ideas of the Hospitallers on the nature of any future crusade were the least of his problems with his fellow Order. He was only too well aware, that Philip of France was keen to merge the two organisations together. And he strongly suspected that the Pope was of the same opinion.

  This was of course completely unacceptable to the Grand Master. His responsibility handed down to him by the Templar’s founder, was to keep the order strong and independent. Its survival was imperative to ensure that when the time came, they could provide the service that had been revealed to Hugh. That they would be available if the Great Prophecy came to pass.

  Pope Clement sighed. He’d expected nothing different from the conversation. But he left Jacques de Molay with a final warning ringing in his ears.

  “You must do as you see fit. But the King has heard rumours of secrets within the Order. In his view, heretical secrets. You would best be on your guard. He would be a very dangerous enemy to make.”

  De Molay, for his part, also found frustration mounting. He’d been through this.

  “I have already informed you Your Holiness, that these ceremonies, which are used on entry to the Order, are already under investigation.”

  The explanation was met with a fixed, pointed stare, and a last admonishment.

  “You have been warned.”

  The Grand Master made his exit. He presumed King Philip had learnt some of the Templars’ initiation rituals. And this constituted his secret. Jacques shivered involuntarily. It was as well the King did not know the full truth, or indeed the Pope. In actual fact, on many occasions he could barely believe it himself.

  It was widespread knowledge that the practice that had been followed at Jacques’ initiation had lapsed in many instances. There were just too many knights joining and two few experts in the theological arguments. Most of the new recruits were just instructed in what to do during the ceremony, not the rationale of the underlying belief system. It hadn’t seemed to matter and had speeded up the rate of recruitment. But might it now return to haunt them?

  The following week, a rare loss of judgement would result in Jacques causing further upset to the French King. This wouldn’t help his cause in future events.

  On returning to Paris, Jacques had determined to examine the books of the French Temple. It would be prudent, in his opinion, to have as much wealth readily available as possible in these dangerous times. The treasurer, Jean du Tour, had carefully prepared a set of accounts detailing assets and outstanding loans, for de Molay to peruse. At the top of the list was an item that caused the Templar leader to explode with rage.

  “Treasurer! What abomination is this? On whose authority was this loan made?”

  His voice was raised in anger and his face red with displeasure. The Treasurer hurried in from the adjoining room. He had no doubt to which loan the questions referred. Earlier that year, unde
r considerable pressure, Jean had made a huge advance of 400,000 gold florins to the King of France. He had wanted at the time to inform the Grand Master. But Philip, for whom he also performed the role of Treasurer, had expressly forbidden any disclosure. Jacques continued.

  “Remove yourself from my sight. I will need to decide what action to take on this.”

  Jacques decided on the action of expelling the Treasurer from the Order. The King was not pleased.

  To King Philip this was the last straw. He had long harboured designs on the wealth and property of the Templars, at least those that were held within the boundaries of his kingdom. The rumours surrounding the strange induction ceremony of the Order seemed like a good excuse to move against them. Philip was aware that Jacques had been a close confidant of his old foe Boniface. And now the Grand Master had made the grave mistake of offending him personally.

  Late Spring 70 A.D. – Jerusalem – The Temple

  Six weeks from the visit to the merchant, Judas carefully and reverentially turned a precious volume, over and over, in his calloused, worn hands. The smell of the newly bound covers around the papyrus was still strong. He’d read the words inside many times. He wasn’t sure he’d captured the idea properly. But it was the absolute best that he could produce.

  Judas raised the small book up, and placed it with great ceremony inside the earthenware vase. Now he needed to find someone in authority, to whom he could entrust the object for safekeeping. He loaded the vase onto a donkey provided by his trader friend, and set off south.

  Two days later, he caught his first sight for many years, of the city walls of Jerusalem rising magnificently from the rocky floor. Soaring even higher, the walls of the Great Temple were clearly visible to any approaching visitor. The sun glinted brightly off the white marble edifice. Herod had intended that the Great Temple should inspire awe in the local population. And he had succeeded.

  The preacher motioned the donkey on and approached one of the main city gates. The entrance was impressive. The outer walls of Jerusalem were constructed of huge stone blocks, the size of which never ceased to cause him wonder. Inside the walls, he found some lodgings for the night in the New City, close to the sheep market. That evening was spent buying a lamb for the morning.

  The next day, the old man approached the public entrance of Herod’s Temple on the south side of the Temple Mount. He gave his sacrificial lamb to an official posted at the gate. Moving inside, he went on to thoroughly cleanse himself, and then climbed a steep, tall staircase, to the Court of the Gentiles.

  The courtyard was large, surrounded on all sides by beautiful arched porticoes. They were double on three sides and triple on the last. The porticoes had high vaulted cedar roofs and contained elaborately decorated mosaic pavements.

  As Judas moved out into the enclosing walls, the bright summer sun revealed a buzzing hive of activity. Along one side of the large, open space stood a series of small, square, wooden tables. Behind these, moneychangers were having animated exchanges with their customers about fair rate of exchange, from Roman to Jewish coins. Serious looking priests were wandering around in plain white cloaks. And it was to the nearest priest that the old man hurried.

  Judas needed an audience with one of the Jewish scholars, in the inner temple. It would be necessary to gain an introduction from one of the priests in the court. But a meeting could not be immediately arranged. So, he was sent back to his lodgings, to wait until time could be made for him.

  During the evening a group of pilgrims and Judas were seated at the dinner table, in the small lodging house in the city. One of the religious travellers, a Jew, had been in the inner temple that morning. He was reviewing the gossip he’d heard between the elders.

  “The rumour amongst our leaders is that this time the Romans are determined. Vespasian has triumphed in Rome and has instructed his son, Titus, that Jerusalem must be taken back from the Jews.”

  The rest of the pilgrims exchanged worried glances. Before being called back to the civil war in Rome, Vespasian had wreaked havoc. He’d been despatched by the Roman Emperor Nero, to quell the Jewish rebellion that had erupted four years earlier. Arriving in Galilee, with three legions of around 60,000 men, he had started hostilities immediately.

  He had swept down through the region, southwards and eastwards, callously destroying each town in his path. But then the death of Nero had necessitated his return to Rome. Victorious, it sounded as though he was now relying on his son, to cement his reputation.

  The old preacher was keeping his own counsel. He had enough first hand experience of the Romans to realise that the inhabitants of the city were in grave danger. And also he thought to himself, it would be hard to get one of the scholars to focus on his problem, with everything that was happening.

  October 12th 1307 A.D. – Paris

  Having spent the summer at Poitiers, the autumn saw the Grand Master return to the intrigues of Paris. Jacques was deep in thought. Events were far from how he had planned them when he had left for France. His meeting with the Pope had left him concerned. The row about the King’s Treasurer could not have helped him with Philip. And yet had he not been given a key position within the court that very day. Would the King be prepared to move against someone to whom he had shown such public confidence?

  The Master had spent the day at the funeral of the French King Philip IV’s sister in law, Catherine of Valois. He had been a member of the ranks of honour. He had an important role in the procession, bearing one of the pall cords.

  Many other Templar leaders were in the French capital for the same occasion. The Grand Master had spent the early evening catching up on news, from throughout Europe and from Cyprus. But now, later at night, his worries had resurfaced. His mind kept replaying the meeting, from earlier in the year, in May, with Pope Clement.

  The day before the King’s sister’s funeral, Jacques had convened a formal Chapter of the Templars. He had spent the whole time reviewing the meeting with Clement, and his subsequent feelings of unease, with all the senior members of the Order. He’d also gone over the subsequent row with the King. There was a strong consensus that the Templars were under the greatest threat they had ever faced. Could it be that Philip would try and confiscate their great wealth?

  Now after the service, he had made his mind up that he must ensure the continuity of resources, no matter what. He sent word to summon two of his most trusted knights.

  They arrived at his Paris house late that evening. The Grand Master had a letter prepared for them, along with a short speech. He told them what was required and bade them well on their journey to London.

  Friday 13th October 1307 A.D. – Paris

  Jacques was an old man now, in his mid sixties. He’d had a tough life. A lot of it had been spent in the Holy Land and the years in the sun had left deep crevices etched into his face. He was heavily built and he’d always had an immense presence on the battlefield.

  His hair, once long, flowing brown locks was now thinning. What he had left was silver but grown long, to hang round his shoulders. A huge straggly beard that was starting to turn grey framed his face. Despite his age, Jacques still managed to exude confidence and composure. He still retained a lot of his strength. He was going to need all of it.

  The knock came at dawn when he wasn’t really expecting it. Well not exactly a knock. It was more of a crashing blow. A crowd of the King’s men, headed by William of Nogaret rushed into the house in which he was staying and placed Jacques de Molay under arrest. He was taken, ironically, to the Paris Temple where along with many other Templars he was placed in a locked room, and secured to the wall in heavy iron chains.

  Several of the Templar officers were already in the room as de Molay was roughly thrown to the floor and his chains fastened to the wall hoops. After the guards left, they told the Master of the offences of which they were charged.

  Jacques listened carefully as the alleged crimes were described. This was going to be diffic
ult. The King had mixed some truth, particularly on the initiation ritual, with some heretical gossip. But there was enough fact in there to damn the entire Order. It was immediately apparent that the future of the Templar movement itself was under the most serious threat.

  On the following Thursday the inquisitors began their work. Philip’s Chief Inquisitor Guillame de Paris had prepared the ground for the affair. The previous month he had written to the inquisitors of Toulouse and Carcassonne, requesting their assistance in an enquiry against the Templars. They were all now assembled in Paris, ready to carry out the King’s instructions.

  Jacques tried his best to retain his usual tranquil mind-set. But it was impossible. Hideous screams echoed through the basement of the Temple buildings, day and night. Periodically, the door to the cell would be thrown open and another wreck of a man returned to them.

  The inquisitors were not really interested in the truth they just wanted the Templars to verify Philip’s charges. Whether they were in fact true, was of complete irrelevance to them.

  Throughout the terrible next few days, it became clear that there was no way of holding out against the rack and the fire of their tormentors. One of the problems was that many of the captured Templars were not actually fighting knights. The Order had expanded and a large number of Templars were just involved in administering their various estates.

  By the Wednesday of the following week, Jacques was determined to stop the incessant torture and requested a personal audience with their inquisitors. There was no alternative, but to confess to the charges both for himself and the entire Templar organisation. At least this way he could gain some time. And he needed some breathing space to figure out a plan. Jacques gave the word for capitulation. So confessions were obtained from the greatest, the Grand Master, down to the most humble, Roland de Grandeville, who merely took care of the ploughs at Mont Soissons.