The Furness Secret

by Mark Williams

  The admissions of guilt, all revolved around the abuse of the cross during reception into the Order. The basic facts of the ceremony were told by each of the knights when they confessed. But they had not given the reason for the rite. For better or worse, only a few of the knights now knew this, and they knew better than to make any revelation. Apart from those who had been tortured, none confessed to the other charges. This was primarily because they were a complete fabrication. Even in his troubled state of mind, the Grand Master wondered what on earth possessed Philip to accuse the Order of worshipping cats

  Regarding the secret purpose of the Order, de Molay, had the comfort of knowing he had already sent word to England. But he could not be sure of the mission’s success. He was very aware that he had dispatched his knights to England without the proper documents. Jacques could but hope, that they would be able to argue their case with enough passion to overcome this problem.

  November 30th 1307 A.D. – London – At the Temple

  William de la More, the Master of the Order in London, was sitting in the centre of the Temple Church in turmoil. He had received news the previous month of the Templar arrests in Paris. Now word had reached him from the Archbishop of the new papal bull. Clement had issued Pastoralis Praeeminentiae. In the document, he spoke to all the Kings and Queens, throughout the Christian world. They were required to arrest Templars, wherever they found them, and to hold their lands and wealth, in safekeeping for the Church.

  In London, King Edward II had so far been unwilling to act against the powerful Templars. Despite Philip sending Bernard Pelet, Prior of the Mas d’Agenai to try and convince him of the Templars’ guilt. But with this papal bull, William was certain that arrest would be imminent.

  He knew there was little time of freedom left, and he determined to assist the two knights who had come as emissaries from the imprisoned Grand Master in France. He had been unsure at first if they were completely genuine, despite their handwritten letter. But he felt events were leaving him no choice.

  The London Temple Master left the church, and entered the large kitchen next door. The two Frenchmen were seated in the centre of the room, sharing the evening meal provided by the Temple Church. They were sitting in silence, as was required by their rule. De la More waited for the dinner to finish, then hailed the couple from the doorway where he was standing. They stood up and crossed over to him. He leant close to them and confided in a low conspiratorial whisper.

  “I have the directions you seek. You must hasten with the greatest speed. Grave events are about to befall our Holy Order. We are all in the most tremendous danger.”

  He led them back to the church where the discussions could continue in the utmost privacy.

  December 1307 A.D. – Paris

  The same night that the Grand Master had arranged for the confessions he was moved from the Paris Temple, into solitary confinement at Corbeil. Over the next days, alone with his thoughts, he tried to make some sense of the current situation. He had never been a theologian. But he could see that he was going to need to make some careful arguments in the coming months if he was to save the Order.

  His mind returned to over forty years in the past, to the discussions in the chapel with Humbert. It was becoming painfully clear that the beliefs that underpinned their initiation rites were going to be intensely examined. As a fighting man, Jacques had never really thought too carefully about the subject. But the time had come for him to make sense of his own religion.

  The Templars believed in the word of Christ and all of his teachings. Far from the idolatry with which they were being charged, the Order believed in the purity of the word of God. Following in a long tradition, dating back to the Christian church’s earliest days, the Order did not revere the cross, or the worship of saints. But they certainly viewed themselves as Christians. Better Christians in fact than those who followed all the traditions of the Church of Rome.

  De Molay had only confessed to the charge of spitting on the cross. And to him, that wasn’t even a sin to be confessed. Although he didn’t believe in the symbol he would have preferred not to treat it with contempt. But this shared act between the Templars, served as a strong bond.

  The Grand Master wondered how, or if, Pope Clement could be persuaded of the Order’s genuine commitment to Christ.

  On one of the long lonely afternoons in his cell, Jacques was pondering on that very issue, when a sharp rap interrupted his stream of thought.

  The jailor shouted de Molay’s name through the grill in the door. Jacques roused himself from the floor and approached the grimy opening. The key clanked in the lock and the door swung open. The jailor beckoned the Master out into the passage. His captor was a heavyset man who was sweating profusely from the heat of the torches that lined the dank, dark tunnel that was starved of fresh air.

  “You have visitors. From the Pope.”

  The words were growled. The guard looked like he would prefer the Angel of Death to be Jacques’ visitor.

  Clement’s representatives were awaiting him in a room at the front of the prison maintained especially for visitors. The Templar Master was glad to get back to some form of civilisation. He was all too aware his appearance must be appalling. The cardinals however, were too polite to draw attention to his looks or his clothing. They wanted to put the Templar as much at ease as they could, given the unusual circumstances. They pulled a chair into the centre of the room into which de Molay sank gratefully.

  “Brother Jacques, the Holy Father has been informed by King Philip, that confessions have been received from all of the Templar brothers who have come before the inquisitors.”

  The Master, nodded. Not that they’d had much choice he thought.

  “His Holiness would like to check that the confessions are related to the initiation rites. The problems around which subject were covered in your discussions in May.”

  The master nodded again. He cleared his throat, and began to start to speak, but his voice was too croaky to allow him to be easily understood. One of the cardinals walked over to a table in the corner of the room and returned with a cup of water. Jacques swallowed greedily and found that his voice had recovered.

  “Indeed. Apart from those unfortunates whose minds were unhinged by the most cruel and violent torture. They would have betrayed their own mothers. The others confessed merely to the initiation ceremony.”

  The cardinals exchanged worried glances at the word merely. As the Pope had told them, de Molay seemed in denial of the difficulties in which he found himself. But they were reassured that there seemed nothing more serious to which a confession had been made. They told the Grand Master they would convey this information to his Holiness.

  They exited the room, and Jacques was returned to the tender care of the Corbeil jailor.

  December 1307 A.D. – News from France

  The horses raced down the last few hundred yards of the valley, through the entrance arch and into the grounds of the monastery itself. They sped past the mill, which was already at work. The two men dismounted with a leap, leaving their horses sweating and breathing heavily. The peasant gardener hunched by the wall looked up in alarm.

  “Where’s your Abbot?”

  The question was barked by the taller of the two. The response didn’t come quickly enough for him, so he repeated himself.

  “Abbot John Comsbrook. Where is he?”

  The layman deferentially indicated the direction of the Abbot’s house and the two men hurried round the back of the church. They could see the dwelling they sought nestled halfway up the slope behind.

  The Abbot received them into his house, and sat them down at the table, whilst he selected a seat opposite. It was unusual to get armed visitors at the Abbey and he was anxious to see what business had brought them here.

  The two men made an odd pair. The first man was a head taller than the second, and much younger as well. The second shorter man, made up for his lack of height with his girt
h. He could barely fit his stomach between the bench and the wooden table. But evidently he was the more senior of the two, for it was he who opened the conversation.

  “Brother Abbot, Are you aware of the troubles that beset the Order of the Knights Templar?”

  The monk shook his head.

  “I am afraid little news of political significance, ripples the waters of our isolated existence.”

  The portly knight frowned. This may make the conversation more difficult.

  “Mmm… You are though aware, of a certain Templar deposit that was made with your predecessors?”

  The Abbot started a little. So this visit was about the Templars’ chests. Interesting. He had wondered ever since his appointment if this day might arrive. The Abbot willed his expression to remain impassive. And gave a little nod to his visitor who continued.

  “Very well then. We have been sent personally by the Grand Master of the Knights Templar, Jacques de Molay, to remove this deposit. He resides at present in Paris. We have a sealed letter with his personal authority.”

  He opened a leather bag he had placed on the floor and removed a small package. It was placed on the table, directly in front of the Abbot. He picked it up delicately, removed the seal and began to read it. What he wondered, could have caused the Templars to come for their hoard, after the best part of a hundred years?

  The letter gave no real purpose for his visitors’ trip. It was however crystal clear about one thing. It instructed the Abbot to hand over the contents of the Templars’ deposit to the bearer of the document. Unfortunately, Abbot John had strict instructions of his own, from a higher authority. He cleared his throat and explained.

  “It is I’m afraid, with the deepest regret, that I must graciously refuse your request. My instructions on this matter are clear. I can only release the document with either a letter from His Holiness himself, or by a deputation of Templars, with a document in the exact format required. It would appear you have no such document?”

  “I am afraid not Sir. As I have stated, the Order is under much pressure. All of our repositories are not at present easily accessible.”

  “Well then …..”

  The Templar had taken enough. His travels from Paris had wearied him immensely. And although he had been warned there might be trouble at the Abbey, he was determined not to let down his Grand Master. He stood up abruptly and drew his battle-sword.

  “I am afraid Brother Abbot, I must insist!”

  Abbot John remained calm, his face impassive.

  “Pray calm yourself Sir. You can achieve nothing here by force. I am sworn to provide no help without the appropriate documentation. And as a man of God I cannot break that oath. And as you do not know where the deposit is located……”

  The knight sheathed his blade. He saw the logic of the monk’s argument. But it did nothing to improve his mood. He turned and stormed angrily from the room followed by his companion. He would not look forward to the next meeting with the Grand Master in France.

  Abbot John breathed a sigh of relief at their exit. His bravado had concealed his nerves. He would need to inform Pope Clement of this visit. He summoned one of his monks to act as a scribe and marshalled his thoughts.

  August 1308 A.D. – Chinon – The Deputation

  Events were weighing heavily on the mind and shoulders of Jacques de Molay. The knights he had sent to England had been unavailable to return to him in person, as they would have been subject to immediate arrest in France.

  But they had sent word of the refusal of the Abbot at Furness to work with them in any way. Without either a letter in the exact format required, or personal correspondence from Pope Clement himself, there would be no release of valuables from storage. Neither of those was likely to be forthcoming. With Clement in office, there would be no papal communication. And the complex form of words required in a letter of release, was kept in the Templar Headquarters on Cyprus. There was no chance at all of retrieving it under the current circumstances.

  The previous month, the Grand Master had at last been released from the clutches of the infamous inquisitors in Paris. Although shackled together in wagons, the Grand Master, four of his officials and seventy-two Knights and sergeants had been told they were en route to Poitiers. There, they were to be released into the custody of the Church. And were to be granted an audience with the Pope Clement V.

  But for Jacques and his officials it was not to be. Some distance short of Poitiers, they were unceremoniously taken off the wagons at Chinon. It was made clear to them that at that moment they were still under the control of the French King Philip. They were locked in the round keep, the Tour de Coudray.

  Then, two days ago, Jacques had received news that three cardinals had arrived at Chinon. They were, Etienne of Suisy, Landalfo Brancacci and Berenger Fredol, the Pope’s cousin. The Grand Master was now waiting for the three cardinals to form a special apostolic commission of enquiry. At last there would be a proper hearing for the Templars, instead of the mockery of the investigation performed by the King’s Parisian inquisitors.

  The Grand Master could not understand why Clement had taken so long to remove him from the iron grasp of Philip’s thugs, after the meeting with the cardinals at the end of last year. Jacques had thought he had displayed enough contrition and told enough of the truth, to allow the Pope to give a pardon. And let the work of the Templars continue. Starting with resolving the problem in the north of England.

  The three cardinals returned to the papal residence with the news that de Molay was being consistent in his story. The Templars’ initiation ceremony did indeed involve spitting on a representation of the cross. But beyond that, it was the Grand Master’s opinion that the Templars, were to a man, devoted Christians. Given his confession to the initiation ceremony, the Grand Master and the other officials had been granted absolution by the cardinals.

  The seventy-two Templars who had left Paris with the senior members of the Order were subsequently questioned at Poitiers. All their testimony was in entire agreement with that of the Grand Master. Pope Clement was therefore able to conclude that the Templar Order itself should continue. But that it required reform, to rid itself of the rites of initiation. Philip, however strongly disagreed with this opinion and the stage was set for a long drawn out conclusion.

  March 1314 A.D. – Paris

  After the incarceration of de Molay and the others at Chinon, a fierce struggle had developed between Clement and Philip of how to resolve the Templar problem.

  For six long years, the Master and his three closest colleagues had been languishing under Philip’s yoke. The fourth comrade had perished in captivity. The Templars had been kept in different cells, in various degrees of discomfort. But after the results of the papal commission, they had all believed it was just a matter of time until their freedom was given to them. Albeit, that Jacques had confessed to a sin he didn’t believe, namely, the basis of the initiation ceremony. During his darker periods, the Grand Master wondered if his very imprisonment was a divine punishment for his confession. But he consoled himself that this was the only way to eventually gain his freedom. So that he could start to repair the damage to his beloved Order.

  But, by 1314, the reality of the situation was that King Philip had won. The Order of the Knights Templar was ancient history. All of its wealth had either been appropriated by European royalty or handed over to the Hospitallers. All of the knights had dispersed around the various Christian lands. The only thing that remained was to deal with the problem of the last Templar dignitaries.

  And so the news had arrived on March 14th. The King’s Justice had delivered it. And it had hit the four men like a hammer on an anvil. They were not to be pardoned after all. The King had pronounced his sentence of life imprisonment. This was because of their confession of six years earlier.

  The four men were by now being kept in the same room. The Grand Master had moved away from the others. A huge black cloud of depression
enveloped him. After such a long wait, the judgement had burst upon him as a complete shock. He thought back to all his discussions with the papal representatives. Was there anything he could have said or done to make a difference? He would never know.

  The four men were now faced with a difficult decision. They could accept their fate and resign themselves to life as confessed heretics. Or they could recant what they had said about their beliefs. Jacques knew that at the very least he would not give the King or Pope the satisfaction of believing they had destroyed his faith.

  He sent out word, that he believed in that which he had confessed. That the worship of the cross he regarded as idolatry so that the act of spitting on the Church’s symbol was without sin. Geoffrey de Charney who had been commander of the Templars in Normandy joined him in his retraction.

  King Philip reacted to the news swiftly, decisively and ferociously. He would put them to the flame that very day. The King made no attempt to clear the decision with Clement. Arrangements were made for the two men to be executed on a small island in the Seine, situated between the royal garden and the church of the Hermit Brothers.

  De Molay was in despair. Not at the loss of his own life. Rather in the destruction of the Templars’ Revelation and all that might mean for the world. What would now happen if the Great Prophesy came to pass? But he knew he had devoted his life to the Order. And had strained every sinew in his being to avoid this outcome. He went to his death calmly, sure of his spiritual future. But he had final words, for those who had condemned him to this fate. His voice rang out, clear and strong in the chilly Parisian evening.