The Templars' Last Days Read online

  The Templars’ Last Days

  David Scott

  First published in Great Britain as an ebook original in 2015

  Copyright © David Scott 2015

  The moral right of this author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

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  Chapter 1

  I open my journal today, 13 October 1307, and it is with a heavy heart that I stare at the blank page. The irony of being here, sat over the most Holy relics of both the Christian Church and the Hebrew faith, whilst being instrumental in the destruction of the finest and most noble Holy Order of the Knights Templar is not lost on me.

  For no more than 25 feet below me in the hold of this fine Templar Cog, are the Holy relics upon which the Christian church is founded. Artefacts from the last supper of our Lord with his disciples, the first versions of the Books which make up the New Testament and much, much more. The most sacred symbols of the Hebrew Faith are also stored below – the Ark of the Covenant, the candlesticks from the Temple of Solomon are but a few amongst many others.

  I am still trying to reconcile with myself as to how did it come to this? What will happen when we land on foreign lands? What has really been achieved over the last few months? Have all the right options been taken?

  My mind drifts away from today's events occurring back in France, as I begin to flick through the pages of my journal to the first page of those hot summer days of July, to see if my memoirs can present me with any resolution to the many questions that are still occupying my mind.

  Although the July of 1307 was bright, warm and sultry, these were in fact dark and uncertain days for the Holy Order that had protected and nurtured me for all of my adult life. It felt such a long way away from those happy, carefree days when I first joined the Brotherhood of the Cistercian Monks and my being assigned to assist in the spiritual welfare of the Knights of the Holy Order, known as the Knights Templar, in what now seems to be almost another life.

  I was only 16 when my parents brought me to Paris in order to have me enter into the Cistercian Brotherhood. Life within the Order was completely different to anything I had so far experienced. The initial hardship of the strict disciplines imposed on its Monks, quickly became a strong source of comfort to me, if not physically then certainly mentally.

  My day was divided into three distinct labours. The day started and ended with both individual and communal prayer. Following the morning prayers, we would tend to our chores in the fields of our granges. Nurturing our crops was never boring for they were always changing in tune with the cycle of Mother Earth from spring, to summer, followed by autumn and finally to winter.

  The third part of each day was spent in education. By this daily advancement, I was enabled to benefit from not only the teachings within our Abbey from the other monks, but I was also invited to attend the College of St. Bernard that had been founded some time ago here in Paris. It was a fundamental principle of the Order that only by having the advantage of education were its Monks able to become members of a regularly organised Society. Here I was able to expose my mind to the many great philosophers who had shaped and moulded the world and through their teachings expand my horizons and thoughts beyond the boundaries of my ascetic life.

  Being somewhat isolated within the walls of the Parisian Preceptory of the Holy Order of the Cistercians, one had a sense of security and safety from all the dangers that lurked on the other side. As such, life for us all was extremely pleasant and harmonious. The politics and conflicts which assaulted those outside of our community were but a distant rumble, which we occasionally heard but never felt.

  My progress within the Abbey did not go unnoticed by my superiors, who I later discovered were always looking out for the best students to develop in the wider service of the Order. These students were groomed to continue the influences the Cistercians carried in the most inner political circles within Europe.

  The Pope having granted this Holy Order of Cistercians independence from his Roman authority, meant that those Priestly Templar Bishops who were assigned to serve the Master of the Knights Templar, were free to recruit those whom they decided were the most suitable candidates.

  Much to my surprise my name had been put forward as being a suitable candidate to be attached to the Knights Templar here in Paris. It was a day not to be forgotten, for it felt as if my whole future now lay on being accepted, and much to my surprise, I was. My new life began to unfold before me and on the whole was to prove to be one of no regrets.

  Once accepted, my new responsibilities meant that I now had to learn how to become both a servant of God and a valued member of the Knight Templar inner circle. Both thoughts excited me and scared me in equal amounts, but, I was here and determined to make the best I could of this opportunity.

  Within a matter of weeks, I was considered to be ready, to be presented to the Master of the Temple, Giles de Villiers. On the appointed day and hour I made my way to the Master’s office. As I neared his office, there outside his room stood a small gathering of people, none of whom were familiar to me then, but, over the coming years, were to become close friends and companions. The nervous tension amongst the group was palpable, for the fearsome and courageous reputation of the Temple Master which went before him, meant he was well known, not only to those within the Preceptory, but throughout all of France and Palestine.

  Our Master, Giles de Villiers, had fought with honour and distinction on the eighth Crusade to the Holy Land. He had risen through the ranks to become a Seneschal during the Crusade, being greatly admired amongst his peers, and feared by his enemies, for his courage.

  At the battle of Saint John d'Acre, the Crusaders were heavily outnumbered by Sultan Al-Ashraf Khaliland’s hoards of Mamluk soldiers. The Crusaders, led by Grand Master William de Beaujeu, had taken what refuge they could in the well fortified town that lay between them and the sea, but were poorly supported by either food or water.

  The siege was relentless, and after many weeks had come down to bloody hand-to-hand fighting in the narrow streets of the town, signalling the final hours for the Crusaders. For the Mamluk, victory was now only a matter of when and not if. The Templars were now resigned to their imminent death, when the Mamluk unexpectedly withdrew to rest and refresh themselves before the final assault and the inevitable slaughter of the trapped Crusaders.

  William de Beaujeu, realising that this temporary lull would be their last chance, decided on a bold initiative: to attack!

  He had noticed that to the south of the Mamluk army lay a gulley that had over past years been formed by an estuary leading to the sea, and that it was only lightly guarded – no doubt, because the Mamluk saw no need to defend it. For in the gulley they had made the temporary stables for their horses.

  Gathering his remaining troops together, the Grand Master was taken aback when he realised that of the 500 Knights who entered the town only a few weeks ago, fewer than 300 now survived. Still, he explained his daring plan to the remaining knights who, to a man, were with him.

  Grand Master Beaujeu chose Giles de Villiers to lead this daring attack. Taking 100 knights, he was to launch a highly visible attack striking at the very centre of the Mamluk position, whilst at the same time a further 50 knights would make their way down the gulley to capture the horses. Then they would circumvent the Ma
mluk position and drive their own horses into them from the rear.

  The Templar Knights rested for a short time, took on what food and water they had to spare and prayed for deliverance and the hand of God to guide them safely through this day. For it was not too long before Giles de Villiers called the Knights to readiness.

  Led by Giles, the Templar Knights left the security of the defensive walls and began to spread out on the sands in full battle order. The sight of the Templars with their Beausants fluttering in the light breeze, the sun’s rays making a dazzling reflection off the armour and swords of the Templar Knights and the vision of the Cross had always struck fear into their enemies. Today was to be no different.

  As the tight knit group of the main body of knights moved forward, the few guards that had been posted by the Mamluk rubbed their eyes in disbelief, almost as if the haze from the heat of the day had created a mirage.

  For there before them, advancing at a walking pace, were the Knight Templars. Giles was flanked by his mounted knights, and behind followed the foot soldiers. The over-large shields bearing the red Cross of Christ were forming a defensive wall through which the metal of the spears and swords glistened in the sunlight, which by this time was high above them.

  Stunned by this sight, the Mamluk guards were frozen to the spot long enough for the Templar Knights to gain enough ground to launch their assault.

  Giles de Villiers stuck his stirrups into the ribs of his horse, and with his familiar war cry led the mounted assault into the very heart of the Mamluk army, bringing with him the sword of death.

  The ensuing minutes were frenetic and bloody, Giles de Villiers’ sword delivering many Mamluk soldiers to their maker, as did his other knights. The speed and savagery of the initial charge was followed up by a tsunami of foot soldiers who were driving a wedge right into the heart of the enemy.

  Whilst all this was taking place, the remaining 50 knights had made their way unnoticed down the gulley, and had now reached the main bulk of the stabled horses. They quickly overpowered the guards and gathered all the tethered horses together then swiftly moved themselves and the captured horses to the rear of the Mamluk army.

  The Mamluk were now beginning to recover from their initial shock at this audacious Templar assault on them and realising that it was they who were in fact surrounding and outnumbering this band of Templar knights, began to regroup. As they formed themselves into their fighting formations, they heard the call of Allah from their leader, Sultan Al-Ashraf Khaliland and were ready now to take back the initiative and defeat the Crusaders once and for all, here and now.

  Above the noise of the battle, the Mamluk began to hear the ever louder cries and horses of what seemed a massive army approaching at some speed to their rear. For driven by the 50 knights were their own hundreds of horses being stampeding into the masses of the Mamluk army. Confusion once again reigned and many soldiers were trampled underfoot by their own horses or were put to the sword by the accompanying Knights Templar.

  Within the hour the Knight Templars had this battle won. The Mamluk were fleeing for their lives, and the Templar Knights thanking God for his protection on this day. Unfortunately for the Templars, victory was to be only short lived. For once the Mamluk had recovered from their shock, and realising that no reinforcements had been sent to aid the small number of Templars defending the city, they regrouped and once more laid siege to the town of Acre.

  William de Beaujeu was slain in the next few days during one of the many battles that followed as the Mamluk pressed home their advantage of superior numbers. That night in an enclave of knights, Tibald Gaudin was appointed as the new Grand Master.

  The Mamluk assaults continued, and the brave Templar Knights were slowly, but inevitably, reducing in numbers as those being slain could not be replaced. So it was agreed that the Grand Master, together with a handful of knights, should take the remaining Templar boat and, loaded with what Templar treasures were left in Acre, escape for the safety of the island of Cyprus, whilst the remaining Templars fought till their end in defending the town of Acre.

  As a Seneschal, Giles de Villiers had been chosen to accompany the Grand Master and help him ensure that the Templar treasure safely reached its destination. And this was the same Giles de Villiers, now Master of the Temple in Paris, who I was now about to face.

  Following a heavy knock on the large door to our Master’s office it swung open and I followed the other two new members of the Temple into the room. We were led by an elegant and tall young man, who, from his attire and swagger, was clearly of noble birth. Next came a bright faced younger man who appeared to be his squire and I brought up the rear.

  The room seemed cavernous; a large fireplace dominated the west wall, over which hung several coats of arms. As was the norm in Templar encampments these were the only decorations to dress the stone walls.

  Opposite the fireplace was a large, uncluttered desk, which looked Eastern in its design. Although large in proportions, the desk appeared to be swamped by the figure and presence of our Temple Master.

  Behind the desk stood two large floor candlesticks, one on each side; they each had a circular mount for seven candles, which flickered and darted their light onto the desk and into the room.

  We three lined up between the fireplace and the desk and awaited our fate.

  After what seemed many minutes, but in reality was only a matter of a few seconds, the door closed, and the Master's squire moved quietly past my left shoulder and approached the right side of the Master. The squire leaned forward and in a low and polite voice announced our presence.

  Without lifting his head, the eyes of the Master rose from the desk and pierced through the dim light, taking in each of us in turn. Then he stood, his height being taller than his reputation, and broader than any man I had ever seen, and he came from behind his desk to greet each of us personally.

  My assumption about the first and second young men proved to be correct, as he welcomed them as Jon Sinclair and his squire Frederick. Then the Master was directly in front of me, his arm outstretched and offering his massive right hand to me in a token of friendship.

  In return I offered my hand which seemed to disappear into his as I shook his hand and I dared a look up into the face of the Master. His face was deeply tanned, clearly from the time spent in the heat of Palestine, and showed the scars of a warrior. His hair and full beard were dark brown, with just the hint of grey starting to colour the edges.

  I felt his gaze drill into my every fibre, and although it was only a quick look into his eyes I could see from them, not the look of death as I was expecting, but one of friendship and warmth.

  He greeted me by name, turned and returned to behind his desk and asked us to take the Knight Templar oath. The Master led, and we followed:

  In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

  I pledge myself, from now and forever, to the holy Militia of the Order of the Temple. I declare to take freely and solemnly this oath of obedience, poverty and chastity, as well as fraternity, hospitality and preliation.

  With this oath I state my strong and irrevocable intent

  To pledge my sword, my forces, my life and everything that I own to the cause, defence, honour and further knowledge of the Christian religion, of the Order of the Temple and of my companions in arms; to the rescue of the Temple of the Holy Sepulchre of our Lord Jesus Christ, of the Land of Palestine and the East and of the domains of our forefathers.

  To submit to the Rule of our Holy Father Bernard, to the Transmission Chart, the Rules, Law and Decrees and all other statements issued in conformity to the Statutes of the Order; not to invest any knight or divulgate title, grade, ritual or other custom of the Order unless authorised by the Statutes; to obey unconditionally and always, within the Establishments of the Order and without, and in all walks of life, the Grand Master and the high Officers of the Order, collectively and singularly.

  To love my b
rothers the Knight and my Sisters the Dames and help them, their children and their widows with my sword, my advice, means and wealth, my credit and everything in my power, and will favour them, with no exception, over those who are not members of the Order.

  To defend the pious pilgrims, to aid and comfort those who are persecuted for the Cause of the Cross, the sick and the poor.

  To fight the infidels and the non-believers with my example, virtue, charity and convincing arguments; and to fight with the sword the infidels and non-believers who attack the Cross with their own sword.

  To abhor all immodesty, and not to indulge in illegitimate pleasures of the flesh and then only with my legitimate spouse.

  Finally, barring rules dictated by Religion and the Order, to conform to the Laws and Customs of the countries in which I may reside, to fulfil my duties of citizen, and to be loyal knight in those countries which entertain relations with the Order.

  This oath I pronounce loudly before the Master

  Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost. Amen.

  The Master had clearly delivered this solemn oath many times before, for he never took his eyes from the three of us as he recited the words. After a few moments of silence and deliberation, he finally gave a nod of his approval and, with a gesture of his hand, the squire led all three of us out of the room. There was no turning back now, even if we had wanted to.

  I was jolted out of my daydreaming by a heavy shudder as the wheels of the carriage hit yet another pothole on the road to Avignon. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I quickly tried to gather my senses and establish our current location.

  We had been on the road from Paris now for six days and we could not be far from our destination. The journey as always had been uneventful, no doubt due to the Beauseant of the Knight Templar being carried by the six knights who formed the vanguard to the entourage and the further six knight outriders.

  Somewhat sandwiched between the two sets of Knights was the coach carrying our Master and Jon Sinclair, followed by my small carriage which was being driven by Frederick.