Holy Blood, Holy Grail

by Baigent, Michael

  Someone obviously had to occupy the premises. Could they have been an autonomous "order," taking their name from the site itself? Could the occupants of the abbey indeed have been the Ordre de Sion? It was not unreasonable to assume so. The knights and monks who occupied the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, also installed by Godfroi, were formed into an official and duly constituted "order" —the Order of the Holy Sepulchre. The same principle might well have obtained for the occupants of the abbey on Mount Sion and would seem to have done so. According to the leading nineteenth-century expert on the subject, the abbey "was inhabited by a chapter of Augustinian canons, charged with serving the sanctuaries under the direction of an abbot. The community assumed the double name of ’Sainte-Marie du Mont Syon et du Saint-Esprit.’ "2 And another historian, writing in 1698, is more explicit still: "There were in Jerusalem during the Crusades ... knights attached to the Abbey of Notre Dame de Sion who took the name of ’Chevaliers de l’Ordre de Notre Dame de Sion.’ "3

  If this were not sufficient confirmation, we also discovered documents of the period—original documents—bearing the seal and signature of one or another prior of Notre Dame de Sion. There is a charter, for example, signed by a Prior Arnaldus and dated July 19, 1116.4 On another charter, dated May 2, 1125, Arnaldus’ name appears in conjunction with that of Hugues de Payen, first grand master of the Temple.5

  So far the "Prieuré documents" had proved valid, and we could assert that an Ordre de Sion did exist by the turn of the twelfth century. Whether or not the order had actually been formed earlier, however, remained an open question. There is no consistency about which comes first, an order or the premises in which it is housed. The Cistercians, for instance, took their name from a specific place, Citeaux. On the other hand, the Franciscans and Benedictines—to cite but two examples—took their names from individuals and predated any fixed abode. The most we could say, therefore, was that an abbey existed by 1100 and housed an order of the same name— which may have been formed earlier.

  The "Prieuré documents" imply that it was, and there is some evidence to suggest, albeit vaguely and obliquely, that this may indeed have been the case. It is known that in 1070, twenty-nine years before the First Crusade, a specific band of monks from Calabria in southern Italy arrived in the vicinity of the Ardennes Forest, part of Godfroi de Bouillon’s domains. 6 According to Gérard de Sède this band of monks was led by an individual called Ursus—a name the "Prieuré documents" consistently associate with the Merovingian bloodline. On their arrival in the Ardennes the Calabrian monks obtained the patronage of Mathilde de Toscan, duchess of Lorraine—who was Godfroi de Bouillon’s aunt and, in effect, foster mother. From Mathilde the monks received a tract of land at Orval, not far from Stenay, where Dagobert II had been assassinated some five hundred years earlier. Here an abbey was established to house them. Nevertheless, they did not remain at Orval very long. By 1108 they had mysteriously disappeared, and no record of their whereabouts survives. Tradition says they returned to Calabria. Orval, by 1131, had become one of the fiefs owned by Saint Bernard.

  Before their departure from Orval, however, the Calabrian monks may have left a crucial mark on Western history. According to Gerard de Sède, at least, they included the man subsequently known as Peter the Hermit. If this is so, it would be extremely significant, for Peter the Hermit is often believed to have been Godfroi de Bouillon’s personal tutor.7 Nor is that his only claim to fame. In 1095, along with Pope Urban II, Peter made himself known throughout Christendom by charismatically preaching the need for a crusade—a holy war that would reclaim Christ’s sepulchre and the Holy Land from the hands of the Muslim infidel. Today Peter the Hermit is regarded as one of the chief instigators of the Crusades.

  On the basis of hints intimated in the "Prieuré documents" we began to wonder whether there might have been some sort of shadowy continuity between the monks of Orval, Peter the Hermit, and the Ordre de Sion. It would certainly seem that the monks at Orval were not just a random band of itinerant religious devotees. On the contrary their movements—their collective arrival in the Ardennes from Calabria and their mysterious disappearance en masse— attest to some kind of cohesion, some kind of organization, and perhaps a permanent base somewhere. And if Peter were a member of this band of monks, his preaching of a crusade might have been a manifestation, not of rampant fanaticism, but of calculated policy. If he was Godfroi’s personal tutor, moreover, he might well have played some role in convincing his pupil to embark for the Holy Land. And when the monks vanished from Orval, they might not have returned to Calabria after all. They might have established themselves in Jerusalem, perhaps in the Abbey of Notre Dame de Sion.

  This, of course, was only a speculative hypothesis, with no documentary confirmation. Again, however, we soon found fragments of circumstantial evidence to support it. When Godfroi de Bouillon embarked for the Holy Land, he is known to have been accompanied by an entourage of anonymous figures who acted as advisers and administrators—the equivalent, in effect, of a modern general staff. But Godfroi’s was not the only Christian army to embark for Palestine. There were no less than three others, each commanded by an illustrious and influential Western potentate. If the crusade proved successful, if Jerusalem did fall and a Frankish kingdom were established, any one of these four potentates would have been eligible to occupy its throne. And yet Godfroi seems to have known beforehand that he would be selected. Alone among the European commanders, he renounced his fiefs, sold all his goods, and made it apparent that the Holy Land, for the duration of his life, would be his domain.

  In 1099, immediately after the capture of Jerusalem, a group of anonymous figures convened in secret conclave. The identity of this group has eluded all historical inquiry—although Guillaume de Tyre, writing three quarters of a century later, reports that the most important of them was "a certain bishop from Calabria."8 In any case the purpose of the conclave was clear—to elect a king of Jerusalem. And despite a persuasive claim by Raymond, count of Toulouse, the mysterious and obviously influential electors promptly offered the throne to Godfroi de Bouillon. With uncharacteristic modesty Godfroi declined the title, accepting instead that of Defender of the Holy Sepulchre. In other words, he was a king in everything but name. And when he died, in 1100, his brother, Baudouin, did not hesitate to accept the name as well.

  Could the mysterious conclave which elected Godfroi ruler have been the elusive monks from Orval—including perhaps Peter the Hermit, who was in the Holy Land at the time and enjoyed considerable authority? And could this same conclave have occupied the abbey on Mount Sion? In short, could those three ostensibly distinct groups of individuals—the monks from Orval, the conclave who elected Godfroi, and the occupants of Notre Dame de Sion—have been one and the same? The possibility cannot be proved, but neither can it be dismissed out of hand. And if it is true, it would certainly attest to the Ordre de Sion’s power—a power that included the right to confer thrones.

  THE MYSTERY SURROUNDING THE FOUNDATION OF THE KNIGHTS TEMPLAR

  The text in the Dossiers secrets goes on to refer to the Order of the Temple. The founders of the Temple are specifically listed as "Hugues de Payen, Bisol de St. Omer and Hugues, Comte de Champagne, along with certain members of the Ordre de Sion, André de Montbard, Archambaud de Saint-Aignan, Nivard de Montdidier, Gondemar and Rossal."9

  We were already familiar with Hugues de Payen and André de Montbard, Saint Bernard’s uncle. We were also familiar with Hugues, count of Champagne—who donated the land for Saint Bernard’s abbey at Clairvaux, became a Templar himself in 1124 (pledging fealty to his own vassal), and received from the bishop of Chartres the letter quoted in Chapter 3. But although the count of Champagne’s connection with the Templars was well known, we had never before seen him cited as one of their founders. In the Dossiers secrets he is. And André de Montbard, Saint Bernard’s shadowy uncle, is listed as belonging to the Ordre de Sion, in other words to another order, which predates the Order of the Tem
ple and plays an instrumental role in the Temple’s creation.

  Nor is that all. The text in the Dossiers secrets states that in March 1117, Baudouin 1, "who owed his throne to Sion," was "obliged" to negotiate the constitution of the Order of the Temple— at the site of Saint Leonard of Acre. Our own research revealed that Saint Leonard of Acre was in fact one of the fiefs of the Ordre de Sion. But we were uncertain why Baudouin should have been "obliged" to negotiate the Temple’s constitution. In French the verb certainly connotes a degree of coercion or pressure. And the implication in the Dossiers secrets was that this pressure was brought to bear by the Ordre de Sion—to whom Baudouin "owed his throne.’’ If this were the case, the Ordre de Sion would have been a most influential and powerful organization—an organization that could not only confer thrones, but also, apparently, compel a king to do its bidding.

  If the Ordre de Sion was in fact responsible for Godfroi de Bouillon’s election, then Baudouin, Godfroi’s younger brother, would have "owed his throne’’ to its influence. As we had already discovered, moreover, there was indisputable evidence that the Order of the Temple existed, at least in embryonic form, a good four years before the generally accepted foundation date of 1118. In 1117 Baudouin was a sick man whose death was patently imminent. It is therefore possible that the Knights Templar were active, albeit in an ex officio capacity, long before 1118—as, say, a military or administrative arm of the Ordre de Sion housed in its fortified abbey. And it is possible that King Baudouin, on his deathbed, was compelled—by illness, by the Ordre de Sion, or by both—to grant the Templars some official status, to give them a constitution and make them public.

  In researching the Templars we had already begun to discern a web of intricate, elusive, and provocative connections, the shadowy vestiges perhaps of some ambitious design. On the basis of these connections we had formulated a tentative hypothesis. Whether our hypothesis was accurate or not, we could not know; but the vestiges of a design had now become even more apparent. We assembled the fragments of the pattern as follows.

  1. In the late eleventh century a mysterious group of monks from Calabria appears in the Ardennes, where they are welcomed, patronized, and given land at Orval by Godfroi de Bouillon’s aunt and foster mother.

  2. A member of this group may have been Godfroi’s personal tutor and may have jointly instigated the First Crusade.

  3. Sometime before 1108 the monks at Orval decamp and disappear. Although there is no record of their destination, it may well have been Jerusalem. Certainly Peter the Hermit embarked for Jerusalem; and if he was one of the monks at Orval, it is probable that his brethren later joined him.

  4. In 1099 Jerusalem falls and Godfroi is offered a throne by an anonymous conclave—a leader of whom, like the monks of Orval, is of Calabrian origin.

  5. An abbey is built at Godfroi’s behest on Mount Sion, which houses an order of the same name as itself—an order that may comprise the individuals who offered him the throne.

  6. By 1114 the Knights Templar are already active, perhaps as the Ordre de Sion’s armed entourage; but their constitution is not negotiated until 1117 and they themselves are not made public until the following year.

  7. In 1115 Saint Bernard—member of the Cistercian Order, then on the brink of economic collapse—emerges as the preeminent spokesman of Christendom. And the formerly destitute Cistercians rapidly become one of the most prominent, influential, and wealthy institutions in Europe.

  8. In 1131 Saint Bernard receives the abbey of Orval, vacated some years before by the monks from Calabria. Orval then becomes a Cistercian house.

  9. At the same time certain obscure figures seem to move constantly in and out of these events, stitching the tapestry together in a manner that is not altogether clear. The count of Champagne, for example, donates the land for Saint Bernard’s abbey at Clairvaux, establishes a court at Troyes—whence the Grail romances subsequently issue—and, in 1114, contemplates joining the Knights Templar, whose first recorded grand master, Hugues de Payen, is already his vassal.

  10. André de Montbard—Saint Bernard’s uncle and an alleged member of the Ordre de Sion—joins Hugues de Payen in founding the Knights Templar. Shortly thereafter Andre’s two brothers join Saint Bernard at Clairvaux.

  11. Saint Bernard becomes an enthusiastic public relations exponent for the Templars, contributes to their official incorporation, and the drawing up of their rule—which is essentially that of the Cistercians, Bernard’s own order.

  12. Between approximately 1115 and 1140 both Cistercians and Templars begin to prosper, acquiring vast sums of money and tracts of land.

  Again we could not but wonder whether this multitude of intricate connections was indeed wholly coincidental. Were we looking at a number of essentially disconnected people, events, and phenomena—which just "happened," at intervals, to overlap and cross each other’s paths? Or were we dealing with something that was not random or coincidental at all? Were we dealing with a plan of some sort, conceived and engineered by some human agency? And could that agency have been the Ordre de Sion?

  Could the Ordre de Sion have actually stood behind both Saint Bernard and the Knights Templar? And could both have been acting in accordance with some carefully evolved policy?

  LOUIS VII AND THE PRIEURÉ DE SION

  The "Prieuré documents" gave no indication of the Ordre de Sion’s activities between 1118—the public foundation of the Templars— and 1152. For the whole of that time, it would seem, the Ordre de Sion remained based in the Holy Land in the abbey outside Jerusalem. Then, on his return from the Second Crusade, Louis VII of France is said to have brought with him ninety-five members of the order. There is no indication of the capacity in which they might have attended the king, nor why he should have extended his bounty to them. But if the Ordre de Sion was indeed the power behind the Temple, that would constitute an explanation—since Louis VII was heavily indebted to the Temple for both money and military support. In any case the Ordre de Sion, created half a century previously by Godfroi de Bouillon, in 1152 established—or reestablished—a foothold in France. According to the text sixty-two members of the order were installed at the "large priory" of Saint-Samson at Orléans, which King Louis had donated to them. Seven were reportedly incorporated into the fighting ranks of the Knights Templar. And twenty-six-two groups of thirteen each—are said to have entered the "small Priory of the Mount of Sion," situated at Saint Jean le Blanc on the outskirts of Orléans.10

  In trying to authenticate these statements we suddenly found ourselves on readily provable ground. The charters by which Louis VII installed the Ordre de Sion at Orléans are still extant. Copies have been reproduced in a number of sources, and the originals can be seen in the municipal archives of Orléans. In the same archives there is also a bull, dated 1178, from Pope Alexander III, which officially confirms the Ordre de Sion’s possessions. These possessions attest to the order’s wealth, power, and influence. They include houses and large tracts of land in Picardy, in France (including Saint-Samson at Orléans), in Lombardy, Sicily, Spain, and Calabria; as well, of course, as a number of sites in the Holy Land, including Saint Leonard at Acre. Until the Second World War, in fact, there were in the archives of Orléans no less than twenty charters specifically citing the Ordre de Sion.11 During the bombing of the city in 1940 all but three of these disappeared.

  THE "CUTTING OF THE ELM" AT GISORS

  If the "Prieuré documents" can be believed, 1188 was a year of crucial importance for both Sion and the Knights Templar. A year before, in 1187, Jerusalem had been lost to the Saracens—chiefly through the impetuosity and ineptitude of Gérard de Ridefort, grand master of the Temple. The text in the Dossiers secrets is considerably more severe. It speaks not of Gérard’s impetuosity or ineptitude, but of his "treason"—a very harsh word indeed. What constituted this "treason" is not explained. But as a result of it the "initiates" of Sion are said to have returned en masse to France—presumably to Orléans. Logically this ass
ertion is plausible enough. When Jerusalem fell to the Saracens, the abbey on Mount Sion would obviously have fallen as well. Deprived of their base in the Holy Land, it would not be surprising if the abbey’s occupants had sought refuge in France—where a new base already existed.

  The events of 1187—Gérard de Ridefort’s "treason" and the loss of Jerusalem—seem to have precipitated a disastrous rift between the Ordre de Sion and the Order of the Temple. It is not clear precisely why this should have occurred, but according to the Dossiers secrets the following year witnessed a decisive turning point in the affairs of both orders. In 1188 a formal separation supposedly occurred between the two institutions. The Ordre de Sion, which had created the Knights Templar, now washed its hands of its celebrated protégés. The "parent," in other words, officially disowned the "child." This rupture is said to have been commemorated by a ritual or ceremony of some sort. In the Dossiers secrets and other "Prieuré documents" it is referred to as the "cutting of the elm" and allegedly took place at Gisors.

  Accounts are garbled and obscure, but history and tradition both confirm that something extremely odd occurred at Gisors in 1188 that did involve the cutting of an elm. On the land adjacent to the fortress there was a meadow called the Champ Sacré—the Sacred Field. According to medieval chroniclers the site had been deemed sacred since pre-Christian times and during the twelfth century had provided the setting for numerous meetings between the kings of England and France. In the middle of the Sacred Field stood an ancient elm. And in 1188 during a meeting between Henry II of England and Philippe II of France, for some unknown reason this elm became an object of serious, even bloody, contention.