The Knights Templar and the Head of God Part 3
Stephen de Staplebridge
Once Collins was made aware of what Ward had seen in his vision, he set about trying to discover whether Stephen de Staplebridge really existed and, if so, was he connected with the Garway church in Herefordshire and with the Hastings Caves. The results of his searches were both surprising and revealing.
The stone tower at the church at Garway certainly existed since Collins and Ward had visited it in March 1997 as part of another psychic quest. They and the friends who accompanied them had, like the Templar knights in Ward’s vision, lain down on the floor of the tower in a star pattern during a Templar-style ritual, which they conducted in accordance with psychic instructions delivered to Collins in dreams and visions. Collins was also aware that there had been a major Templar preceptory in the vicinity of Garway, which thrived until the arrest of its remaining knights in 1308.
Collins quickly discovered that Staplebridge was the medieval name for a small village in the county of Dorset known as Stalbridge. This, in itself, does not prove that Stephen de Staplebridge actually came from there, although this was an age when people often adopted as their surname their place of origin whereby Stephen de Staplebridge could have stood for Stephen of Staplebridge. However, Collins immediately noted that only a few miles over the border from Stalbridge in the county of Somerset was the village of Templecombe that was the site of a major Templar preceptory dating back to 1185. Although little today is known about the Templar’s activities at Templecombe, they may well have been linked with the thriving wool industry which the Templars helped to introduce to the West Country whilst some sources suggest it could have been a regional centre for training and recruiting local men for the Crusades in the Holy Land. The fact that the Templecombe estate was located close to the old Bristol Road would suggest that the Templars there would have had close ties to the great medieval port of Bristol where a major Templar preceptory was located at Temple Mead, where to this day the main Bristol railway station still bears the name of Temple Meads (which is close to where my parents-in-law once lived, as did my cousin who managed the public house just opposite the station). In this last connection it should be noted that ships belonging to the Templar fleet would regularly arrive at Bristol from the French ports of La Rochelle and Marseilles delivering arms, munitions and other produce and supplies to the Order’s key properties in England. What is certain though is that Stephen de Staplebridge’s name was not listed among those of the four remaining Templars at the preceptory at Templecombe when they were arrested in 1308.
However, Templecombe would in 1945 yield an amazing discovery which may have a bearing on the Templar veneration of the idol they called Baphomet for when the owner of a cottage in West Street, just off the High Street, removed the ceiling of an outhouse, he uncovered a painted wooden panel, which was tentatively dated to 1280 AD, a time when the Templars were still in residence. The panel depicts an extraordinary bearded male head of great serenity with shoulder length red-brown hair set within a stylised diamond-shaped frame, which Collins states further accentuated its mesmeric form. Scholars have been extremely cautious as regards the identity of the face on the Templecombe Panel and its probable association with the Templars, although some see a remarkable similarity between the face on the Panel and that on the famous Shroud of Turin, which is a relic of immense significance to Roman Catholics throughout the world. Although Collins dismisses it as a medieval fake, some researchers believe the Shroud may have come into the possession of the Templars, having possibly been seized from Byzantine hands during the infamous sacking of Constantinople, which the Templars, aided and abetted by the Venetian state, played a major part in. However, Collins asks the question why Christ’s head should be shown as being severed, suggesting that it is more likely the Templecombe Panel portrays the head of St John the Baptist, a figure intimately linked with the Templars, whose head was famously chopped of by King Herod at the bidding of his temptress daughter-in-law Salome.
The fact that the Panel was set within a stylized diamond shaped frame intrigues me though since it reminds me of something the C’s once said about the Philosophers Stone of the alchemists:
Q: (L) What is the "philosophers stone?"
A: Idea centre.
Q: (L) How can this idea centre be accessed?
A: Many ways: meditation is the best.
Q: (L) Is there any visual image of the philosopher's stone that one could use to access it in meditation?
A: Yes. Diamond or prism.
This leads me to wonder whether the Philosopher’s Stone might be directly connected to the Grail. If the Templecombe Panel was placed there by the Templars, did they deliberately use a diamond shaped frame so as to enhance the practice of meditation before the image? Let us also not forget that the diamond suit in the modern pack of playing cards may well be linked to the Grail and, along with the other three suits, to the four treasures of the Tuatha de Danaan (see my earlier posts on the Alton Towers thread regarding this subject).
Ward’s vision and dreams would encourage Collins to look more closely at the Templars’ activities at Garway and his research would pay off handsomely when he found documentary evidence providing an account of a secret initiation at Garway, which showed that the preceptory had been of extreme importance to the Templars.
The Confession of John de Stoke
The account related to the confession of a Templar priest (not a knight) named John de Stoke who attended upon the spiritual needs of the brother knights. On 1 July 1311 he made a formal statement concerning his two separate receptions into the Order. The first of these had taken place 18 years before hand and this had been orthodox in nature. However, a year later in 1294 he underwent a second, more secretive initiation at the preceptory at ‘Garway’, which was presided over by none other than the Grand Master of the Temple, Jacques de Molay (who would in fact be the last official Grand Master of the Order). John de Stoke claimed that during the ceremony, a crucifix was placed before him and he was asked by de Molay what it signified, to which he responded: “Jesus Christ who had suffered for the redemption of the human race.” This was not the answer the Master of the Temple had expected for he responded: “You speak badly, and you are in error, for he was the son of a certain woman, and since he said he was the Son of God, he was crucified.”
Jacques de Molay next asked de Stoke to deny Christ, and when he did not, the priest was threatened with prison. To back this threat up, two knights held their swords menacingly towards de Stokes, forcing him to make the denial. When the priest asked who he should honour with his devotions if not Christ, de Molay told him to rejoice “in the great Omnipotent God, who created Heaven and Earth”, and not in the Crucifixion.”
Collins points out that John de Stoke could have easily made his confession under extreme torture, or with an assurance that if he confessed, he would be absolved of his sins and released from captivity (which he was two days later). However, Joseph Farrell in his book Thrice Great Hermetica and the Janus Age countered the assumption that has been made by Templar researchers that all Templar confessions were made under torture or duress by pointing out that not all confessions were made under torture. For example, he points out that Pope Clement V (to whom the Templars in theory owed their ultimate loyalty) received in private audience “a certain Knight of the Order, of great nobility and held by the said Order in no slight esteem” who testified to the abominations that took place on the reception of the Brethren, the spitting on the cross and other things that were not lawful nor, humanly speaking, decent. There is no doubt though that many Templars were barbarically tortured especially in France, England, and Spain. But Farrell then cites Nesta H Webster in her book Secret Societies and Subversive Movements where she states:
“It is certainly difficult to believe that the accounts of the ceremony of initiation given in detail by men in different countries, all closely resembling each other, yet related in different phraseology, could be pure inventions. Had the victims been driven to invent they would surely have contradicted each other, have cried out in their agony that all kinds of wild and fantastic rites had taken place in order to satisfy the demands of their interlocutors. But no, each seems to be describing the same ceremony more or less completely, with characteristic touches that indicate the personality of the speaker, and in the main all the stories tally.”
As Farrell concludes:
“The common features of the confessions, even when the Templars were not under torture , appearing before the Papal Commission, suggests that there is some kernel of truth to the charges, that there is something hidden within the Order that it wished to protect at all costs.”
Could that something have been the Holy Grail, the most powerful and significant relic of them all?
Farrell lists the charges that were brought against the Templars of which two may be particularly relevant to the initiation ceremony at Garway and the confession of John de Stoke, these are:
- Worshipping a severed head, which in some cases is described as having two, even sometimes three, faces.
- That Christ had not died to redeem all mankind but only for his own sins.
The fact that in Richard Ward’s vision Stephen de Staplebridge was holding a silver reliquary in the shape of a two-faced, bearded head, at what seemed to be his initiation into the Templar Order and at which he proclaimed: “I bring you the Head of God”, would seem to corroborate the first charge mentioned above. Moreover, John de Stoke’s confession alleging that Jacques de Molay, the Grand Master of the Temple, had asked de Stoke to deny Christ and his redemptive act of dying on the Cross for mankind’s sins, would also seem to corroborate the second charge too. Hence, as Joseph Farrell points out, there is good reason to believe that at least some of the Templars may have been guilty as charged in spite of the loyal defence of their modern-day supporters found amongst writers, researchers and historians.
Jacques de Molay at Garway
In his book, Andrew Collins asked a very important question in relation to Jacques de Molay’s presence at the initiation of John de Stoke at Garway. He ponders why such a high-ranking Templar should have travelled to Garway on the dangerous Welsh border, especially as he had only become the 23rd Master of the Temple the previous year and was now based in Cyprus where the Order had its headquarters. Presumably it was unusual for Jacques de Molay to visit an English preceptory, especially for the initiation of a lowly priest. Collins astutely adds that when de Molay visited, it would have been in the company of a retinue of foreign knights, his personal bodyguard, and servants, making secret visits almost impossible. Collins then asks whether the association of Jacques de Molay with Garway records some kind of hitherto unrecorded significance to the place. Might it be linked with the idea that it contained a holy relic of immense importance to the Order, possibly a special head reliquary? Collins then quotes from an article in the Temple magazine on the church of St. Michael at Garway and Jacques de Molay’s appearance there at the second initiation of John de Stoke, which makes some interesting observations:
“Surrounded by tall trees … hidden away, veiled in mystery, it gives a feeling that it is hiding something … Its importance can be understood because we know that the last Grand Master of the Templars, Jacques de Molay, visited Garway preceptory in 1294. One of the few preceptories in England to receive the honour.”
Collins then adds weight to the argument that Garway may have possessed a special head reliquary by the fact that during the trials of the English Templars, a Minorite friar came forward to affirm that there were idols worshipped by his brethren. Four of them were in the possession of preceptories in England. One of these was at a place he called ‘Bristelham’, which can only be a reference to Bristol. Collins asks was it possible that one of these idols, presumably the one held at Bristol, found its way to Garway. However, there is no indication in his account of what any of these idols looked like. According to Richard Ward’s vision, the one at Garway was silver, two-faced, with a beard on one face at least [MJF: this is only the description of the reliquary or relic holder and not the relic itself]. Collins then notes that this description matches that of a head witnessed by Guillaume de Arrablay, the French King’s almoner, when he received admission into the Order, presumably at the Paris preceptory. Apparently, it was carried before him and placed on the high altar at which he was able to see that it was made of silver with ‘two faces, a terrible look, and a silver beard’. Other knights described seeing very similar heads, some with single faces and others even with three faces, although whether these had been moved around from preceptory to preceptory is not made clear.
This is interesting because a two-faced, bearded head reminds us immediately of the two-faced Roman god Janus, who the English poet and mythologist Robert Graves believes was modelled originally on the goddess Cardea in her guise as Carmenta. Moreover, a triple faced head relic also reminds us of the triple nature of the ancient Mother Goddess representing the maiden, mother and crone or the past, present and the future. It also ties in with the myth of three Gorgon sisters of which Medusa’s head (a cipher for the Grail) seems to have represented the present, as she was the only one of the sisters who could be killed.
Collins concluded this analysis of Richard Ward’s vision by quoting Ward where he said:
“I feel that the head used at Garway for the star ritual involving the seven knights was important to the whole Order, not just in England but also in France.”
Collins then asks what became of it since the head never fell into the possession of King Edward II as it certainly would have been recorded in history. Collins wondered whether the inquisition may have got hold of it and spirited it away to Rome [MJF: there are certainly those who believe that the Vatican has the Ark of the Covenant]. Ward rejected this proposal and said:
“Don’t ask me why I say this, but I feel it remained in this country for a few years after the arrest of the English Templars and was then taken out of the country under a cloak of secrecy, very possibly with the help of Stephen de Staplebridge”.
Collins responded by asking “
where did it land up?” Ward replied:
“As ridiculous as this might seem, I think it ended up at or very close to Rennes-le-Château.”
Collins then went into the genesis of the mystery of Rennes-le-Château and the links of the Templars to this region, including their long-term wish to create their own separate Templar kingdom based around the Languedoc-Roussillon region of today’s southern France and the then Spanish kingdom of Aragon. This leads me to speculate whether the Templars may have been trying to recreate the old kingdom of Arcadia prior to its annexation by the kingdom of Mycenae.
Collins makes much of how the Templars of Roussillon-Aragon sought and gained land and properties at Le Bézu [MJF: which we should recall is a derivative of the anagram “Zuber” which the C’s referred to in the transcripts] four miles south south-east of Rennes-le-Château in spite of the fact that there was already a Templar presence in the area at Campaigne-sur-Aude, which came under the control of the French Templar commanderie of Douzens located close to the fortified city of Carcassone. This has led historians to question why the Templars of the south should have wanted to found a preceptory at Le Bézu so close to Campaigne-sur-Aude. We have, of course, discussed the Templars of Le Bézu and its purported links to hidden treasure before on the Alton Towers thread so I won’t repeat what Collins has to say on the matter. However, Collins does note that, unlike their French brethren, thy were not arrested prior to the dissolution of the Order in 1312. Thus, to Collins it made sense why any Templar relic may have been shipped back to this region, where it would remain safe in the hands of these Templar knights who were under the exclusive protection of the King of Aragon. Collins mused as to whether this is what may have happened to Ward’s two-faced head reliquary, which seems to have started its journey from Garway in Herefordshire, England to end up somewhere in the French Languedoc.
Returning to Ward’s account, he then added:
“I would even go so far as to say that the head was in some way responsible for the mystery of Rennes-le-Château and that Saunière was aware of its existence. He thought he knew where it was hidden, and this somehow brought him into conflict with some organisation, probably the Vatican [MJF: or the Rosicrucians]. They ensured that he lived a happy and prosperous life on the condition that he kept quiet about the whole matter, since there were elements of which would have undermined the foundations of the Catholic faith.
You know it is strange. I see the head as being kept inside a stone casket at some time. I reckon the Vatican made some attempt to steal it, not from Saunière but from someone else – someone who was in on the secret – but they failed. Somehow those involved were tricked into taking the wrong thing and so the head remained safe and is still out there today. Saunière knew this, and although he was unable to reveal to anyone what was going on, he did manage to leave various clues as to its whereabouts inside the church at Rennes-le-Château.
He added
“There are other clues at Arques. There is a chateau there which is important to this story.”
Collins then asked Ward what he thought the connection was between the ‘Head of God’ and the quest to find the Holy Grail [MJF: to me they are one and the same thing]. Ward responded whilst shrugging his shoulders:
“I’m not sure, although I get the feeling there’s a relationship between the two and that it involves the Languedoc somehow, and the beliefs of the Cathars.”
This last statement would hold true when Collins went on to discover that the Templars did indeed experience an influx of former Cathars into their ranks (see more below on this) after the Cathars had been all but eradicated during the Albigensian Crusade.
The Two Johns
At this point, Collins went into several chapters on the Cathars, the Gnostics and the cult of St John the Evangelist, including the Johannine community and the Gnostic sects of the Ophites and the Naasenes, whose names derive from the Greek word for snake and the Hebrew form of the same name respectively. It is also a fact that the only Christian gospel the Cathars would use was that of the evangelist St John.
Collins also dwelt on the cult of the two Johns, i.e., St John the Evangelist and St John the Baptist both of whom were specially venerated by the Templars and later by the Freemasons for whom they act as patron saints.
Collins points out that with St John the Baptist’s feast day occurring on 24th June [MJF: curiously which is the day I got married on] and St John the Evangelist’s feast day occurring on 27th December (dates which are close to the Summer and Winter solstices) if viewed as the sun’s yearly cycle in the form of a circle with the two Johns standing back-to-back at its centre, you would have St John the Baptist gazing out towards the point of midsummer and his counterpart St John the Evangelist facing the sun at midwinter. Collins wondered whether this is something the Templars attempted to express as twin-faced head reliquaries of the sort described in their trials and as viewed in Ward’s vison. Interestingly, Collins notes that the nativity of St John the Baptist is considered to be 24th June as is the date of St John the Evangelist’s death, which if true provides even further confirmation of the two saint’s dual relationship as regards the solstices. And, of course, the image of two bearded men standing back-to-back conjures up the image of the Roman god Janus.
It should also be noted here that St John the Baptist’s head is usually associated with being served up on a platter after he had been beheaded by King Herod at his stepdaughter Salome’s behest, who legend holds performed an erotic dance (the ‘Dance of the Seven Veils’) in front of Herod, the price of his resulting lust being the head of the Baptist. This imagery in turn reminds one of the Grail being carried in procession on a platter in Perceval’s vision of the Holy Grail, which he experienced in the Grail Castle of the Fisher King. Moreover, St John the Evangelist is traditionally associated with a poisoned cup or chalice from which he drank without being harmed, an event often symbolised in Christian iconography by a black snake slithering out of the chalice. So, in the personages of the two Johns, we find the images of a head and a cup both of which were present in Richard Ward’s vision of the ritual performed by the Templar Knights in the stone tower at St Michael’s Church, Garway.
The Templars of Rhedae
As stated above, Richard Ward believed that Rennes-le-Château and its mystery might hold a key to discovering both the Templar reliquary referred to as the ‘Head of God’ and the Grail itself [MJF: possibly because they are one and the same thing]. Andrew Collins’ research revealed that records show that on 16 March 1147 two brothers, Pierre de St Jean (John in French) and Bonetus de Rhedae (which Collins believes is the ancient name for Rennes-le-Château but which I think is the crossroads town of Quillan), following the advice and will of their mother Blanche [MJF: a significant name in the mystery of Rennes-le-Château] gave their entire possessions, including vast swathes of arable land, villas, farms, vineyards, gardens, lakes, water supplies and much more to the Knights Templar. In addition, Pierre and Bonetus donated to the Order titles and deeds to properties in Espéraze, a town just north-west of Rennes-le-Château, St Jean de Brucafel near Carcassone, and at Douzens and Campagne-sur-Aude, where major Templar commanderies would later be built. Five days later Pierre de St Jean was received into the Order. He would climb rapidly through the Templar ranks becoming in 1156 the Master at Brucafel and in 1159 he is recorded as having been the ‘Procurateur of the Honour of Rhedez’ of the Maison Seigneuriale of Rennes-le-Château. Collins adds that from 1167 to 1169, the citadel prospered under him, for he was by this time ‘Commandeur’ (i.e., preceptor) of Douzens and Brucafel, ‘Preceptor and Master’ of the two Honours of Carcassone and Rhedez (Rennes-le-Château), with the title of ‘Minister, magister, Commendator, Preceptor, Procurans Honoris Militaie’.
Collins notes that there seems little doubt that the medieval charter in which these transactions are preserved confirms that there was a prominent Templar presence at Rennes-le-Château as early as 1147, a fact that seems to have received scant attention by researchers. Collins notes that how long this presence remained is unclear, although it might well explain the former existence there of a church of St John, which was destroyed by an assault on the besieged citadel in 1361, which by that time had become no more than a defensive town. It seems those responsible for these actions were Aragonese mercenaries loyal to Prince Henri de Trastamare who opposed the rule of his brother Pierre I, King of Aragon and Castille. According to tradition, the Church of St John* was dismantled stone by stone as the mercenaries were ‘searching for a precious deposit**. Collins speculates here whether the Aragonese mercenaries had been attempting to find the silver head reliquary known as the ‘Head of God’ (which may have been transported from England to Rennes-le-Château shortly after the arrest of the English Templars in January 1308) when they dismantled the citadel’s Church of St John stone by stone. Could knowledge of its existence have come from former Knights Templar of Roussillon-Aragon loyal to the King of Aragon and Castille?
*The present church of St Mary Magdalene, at which Berenger Saunière was parish priest from 1885 until his death in 1917, was formerly a chapel attached to the town’s château.
**Ref. Gérard de Sede’s The Accursed Treasure of Rennes-le-Château (1967).
The Confession of Stephen de Staplebridge
Up to this point we have only heard of the Templar Knight Stephen de Staplebridge through the dreams and visions of the psychic Richard Ward. Was there any evidence such a person by this name ever existed and, if so, was he a Templar Knight who had connections to Garway? The answer is a profound yes since Andrew Collins would unearth evidence for him through the diligent research of two men, the first being Ken Tullet, the archivist at Christchurch Priory and the second being Geoff Wilson, who was the owner of the Manor House at Templecombe in Somerset, which incorporates the surviving fragments of the Templar preceptory’s main gatehouse.
What these two men have uncovered is truly revelatory and deserves much wider exposure. Their evidence reveals that a core of English Templars survived the suppression of their Order for many years afterwards and this group would go on to establish Freemasonry in England long before its official inception in the 18th century. It also supports Joseph’s Farrell’s contention that at least some of the Templars were guilty of the charges levelled against them by the Catholic Church and King Phillip 1V of France. The survival of this group of Templars may even have implications for Laura and her Knight ancestors, as I will show below. What follows is Stephen de Staplebridge’s confession as drawn from various sources including notes compiled by Ken Tullet and the late Ray Lax of Christchurch Priory between 1994-1997, Wilkins Concilia Magnae Britanniae et Hiberniae, London 1737 and the diocesan records of Hereford and Worcester:
“When on Earth my name was Stephen de Staplebridge, and I declare, God save, that this is my story. A nobleman by birth, and of the knightly class, I was received into the virtuous Order of the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and the Temple of Solomon on the Feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the year of Our Lord, 1295. It took place at the preceptory of Keele in the shire [County] of Stafford, and was presided over by my Lord Guy de Forester, the Master of the Temple in England [MJF: de Forester was most likely the same family name as that of the Knight Templar Ormus le Guidon who came from Staffordshire and whose father was Richard Forester. Ormus would build the Templar preceptory at Biddulph that later became Springwood Priory under the Cistercian Order]. Present on this occasion were chaplains John de Reives and Henry de Daumari, and Brother Hugh the macebearer. I accepted my duties to God, in his mercy, and a short while later, in the year 1297, I was received into the second order, the Templi Secretum, although this time the rites were conducted behind closed doors so that the profane might not know their sacred nature. It took place at Lydele, and the receptor this time was none other than the new Master of the Temple, Brian de Jay, a man of forthright spirit. Thereafter I was able to travel with better freedom to pursue the path which God had set forth for me. For ten years all went well until in October 1307 the King of France, Philip the Fair, with the aid of his Holiness Pope Clement V, declared that our Holy Order was guilty of committing many heinous crimes against the Lord Jesus Christ, and other evil mischiefs which cannot be spoken.
I was able to elude capture by taking flight from Lydele, hiding my face beneath a cloak and a cowl, and joining with other fugitives. I was hunted down by the bailiffs of Our Lord the King. During this time, my brethren’s duties were manifold, and ever did we think that one day the Magister Templi. Jacques de Molay, and our fallen brothers in France, would be absolved of the evil crimes levelled against them, and that our full dignity would be restored.
It was in the year 1311, close to the time of midsummer, that whilst attending to business at New Sarum, in the shire of Wiltshire, I was arrested by officers of Our Lord the King and taken in chains to Newgate in London, where I was given up to the Chief Inquisitors. None of them had any sympathy for the plight of the Holy Order, for they wished only to extract false testimony from me and those of my brothers in custody at this time. I was brought for questioning before Their Graces the Bishops of London and Chichester, and then dragged to St Paul’s Church where I was again accused of great blasphemies and made to confess my sins. Under pressure of torture, and worse still a painful death, I told them a little of my reception into the two orders, and then begged for mercy. I was absolved by His Grace, the Bishop of Chichester, and released from interrogation.
For too long I was left in gaol, as my brethren tore at their chains and went mad by the day, and then without warning, in the year 1313, I was sent to do penance at the Priory of Our Lady of Merton in the shire of Surrey, which is a holy house of the Order of the Blessed Saint Augustine [the Augustinians*]. To keep me, they were awarded four pence daily, and for a while I accepted the duties given to me and attended their services as a poor canon of Christ. Yet the priory was more thrifty than many I have known and His Grace the Prior and his canons suffered badly from this poorness. I could not endure their virtuous lifestyle and longed to live in all honour and dedication among my brethren, whose wills had not gone astray.
*So yet again we find a mention of Augustinian monks, canons, or friars, which reminds me of what the C’s said here:
Q: … And when I drew little lines connecting them all, they enclosed this plain of San Augustin....
A: And who was Saint Augustine/San Augustin... Augustus, Augustine Monks, etc?
This was even when in the year 1312 the Council of Vienne headed by his Holiness Pope Clement V, and other men of the Holy Church, dissolved our Order because of the false testimonies offered by those enemies whose mischiefs were enough to see it trodden into the dirt. It was with these thoughts that I took leave of the priory and reverted back to being a fugitive once more. In faith, I survived, moving by night and resting by day, in the knowledge that my fellow brethren convened in secret to exact the duties of Our Lord God and the Blessed Saints, and to make plans for a new order to continue the ideals of the old.
After a while, time enough for me to complete what I was meant to do for my brethren, I journeyed once more to New Sarum and was apprehended by the town’s bailiffs. They took me in chains back to Newgate where I was hauled before no less than fifteen bishops who insisted that I should reveal more of the Templi Secretum, but I said nothing, and was allowed to return to gaol, there to rot with the filth of the streets.
Then in the year 1319, the prior of Christchurch in Dorset, whose canons like those at Merton Priory followed the rules of Blessed Saint Augustine was instructed by His Grace the Bishop of Winchester to receive me into its house. Yet since I was an apostate, he was told that I should not be allowed to advance beyond the first tonsure, for fear that I would seek my freedom, or else beguile the minds of the canons with false ideas.
Ken Tullett discovered Stephen de Staplebridge following the chance discovery of a Purbeck coffin lid in the loft of the church of St Michael, built in the 15th century over the site of the priory’s Lady Chapel. He found on the slab’s surface a cross pattée (Maltese Cross) enclosed in a circle attached to a long shaft, besides which was a crudely carved sword. Professor Kemp of the University of Reading felt that it dated to around the mid-14th century prompting Tullett and his colleague, the late Ray Lax, to conclude that it might have marked the grave of a Knight Templar even though the Order had been suppressed forty years earlier. On examining the priory’s records, the two men found a reference to Stephen de Staplebridge and wondered whether the grave may have belonged to him. Tullett and Lax would go on to find an incredible amount of information on this rebel Templar and his family.
Although Geoff Wilson was not able to find out as much information about Stephen de Staplebridge, he was able to rebut the suggestion that if he had come from nearby Stalbridge he may have been inducted into the Order at Templecombe. It turned out that Templecombe was almost certainly an ‘initial training centre’ for those young men who were destined for the Crusades in the Holy Land. It did not receive those of a knightly class, which Stephen de Staplebridge would certainly seem to have been. He was described in Wilkins Concilia Magnae Britanniae et Hiberniae, which contains a comprehensive account of the trials of the Knight Templar as milicie, i.e., a knight. It says that he also gave his testimony in French, which meant that he saw himself as a nobleman (French was still the lingua franca of the nobility in England then). This would therefore explain why he was received into the Order at the preceptory of Keele rather than Templecombe. Collins found this connection with Keele in Staffordshire fascinating for he previously had come across a collection of stone coffin lids which belonged to Knights Templar from Keele. He had found them up against the wall of the church of St Lawrence at Biddulph a town just north of Stoke-on-Trent in Staffordshire and thought they may have been transferred there from the nearby Hulton Abbey, a Cisterician institution with close links to the Templars at Keele [MJF: although his fellow researcher and author Graham Phillips believes the coffin lids may have come from the nearby Springwood Priory at Biddulph, which had been the site of an earlier Templar preceptory founded by Ormus le Guidon (see my earlier posts on this]. Like the stone coffin lid at St Michael’s loft in Christchurch Priory, each coffin lid bears the cross pattée at the end of a long shaft, alongside which are carved weapons representing those that were buried with the knight, usually a sword or an axe. However, as Collins notes, this did not prove that the coffin was that of Stephen de Staplebridge for there is no evidence to prove that he died and was buried in Christchurch Priory.
The Confessions
What Geoff Wilson was able to show Collins were certain references in books to Stephen de Staplebridge concerning the confession at his initial trial. As a ‘fugitive Templar, he was arrested in June 1311 by the King’s officers at New Sarum (modern Salisbury), in the county of Wiltshire, and in the presence of the Bishops of London and Chichester on 23 June, made what are described as ‘the first confessions comparable to those [of his brethren] in France. He admitted that there were two admissions into the Order, the first of which was ‘licit and good’ and the other ‘against the faith’. He said that he had been received by both methods, in the first instance in ’an honest manner’ and on the second in the manner described. This had taken place at Lydele, thought to be the Templar preceptory in Lydele in Shropshire. The receptor on this occasion was Brian de Jay, Master of the Temple in England 1296-98, something which immediately marks Staplebridge as important, since it cannot be often that such a high-ranking Templar would preside over an investiture of this type, even though de Jay came from Shropshire himself. Curiously, Brian de Jay was later to support the cause of King Edward I (the Hammer of the Scots) of England against the Scots, leading him to breaking with the Templar rule. He thus became the model for the evil Templar, Sir Brian de Bois Guilbert, in Sir Walter Scotts’s famous novel Ivanhoe. De Jay would eventually be killed in 1298 fighting the Scots at the Battle of Falkirk, reputedly at the hands of Sir William Wallace himself (ref. the Mel Gibson movie Braveheart).
According to Stephen de Staplebridge’s own accounts of his reception into the second order, a cross was brought in and then, in the presence of two brothers with drawn swords, Brian de Jay informed him: “It is necessary for you to deny that Jesus Christ is God and man, and to deny Mary, his mother, and to spit on this cross.” Allegedly, he told his confessors that he was ‘frightened’ when forced to do this, but went ahead anyway, making the requisite denials, although he claimed that it was ‘by the mouth, and not in the heart’, and that he spat not on the cross but on the hand next to it. Apparently, the reception, which he said was quite usual in the Order, had occurred at dawn. In addition to this, Stephen de Staplebridge spoke of how members of the Order were told not to believe in the sacrament, how the Magister Templi, Master of the Temple, was able to give absolution of sins and homosexuality was allowed (this being one of the charges levelled against the Templars by Pope Clement V and King Philip IV). One could argue here that Stephen de Staplebridge merely told them what they wanted to hear to save himself, particularly as he made it known that he was aware that a fellow knight, William Bachelor, about whom various Templars had been questioned, had died in prison through torture.
The Templi Secretum
Most tellingly, he stated that ‘the Order’s errors had originated in the diocese of Agen’ in Aquitaine, where a major Templar commanderie was located, with the implication that the fault lay with one Roncelin de Fos, Master of Provence, who was Master of the Temple in England (1252-56) and again Master of Provence (1260-78).
Collins notes that de Fos was a very important player with respect to understanding the inner order of the Templars [MJF: again, another example of the C’s circles within circles], for just as de Staplebridge asserted, there is a strong belief amongst some experts on the Templar mysteries that it was he who had instituted the Templi Secretum (secret temple), which involved denying Jesus as God and spitting and trampling on the Cross. Roncelin de Fos was born at Fos-sur-Mer, a small port not far from the port city of Marseilles in Provence. His entire family were already involved in the Knights Templar, and they held deep memories of the massacre of the Cathars, particularly those killed at Béziers on 22 July 1209, the feast-day of St Mary Magdalene, whom the Cathars revered as the spiritual bride of Jesus Christ. It should be noted here that Roncelin de Fos soon became a vassal for the King of Aragon, under whose control were the Templars of Roussillon and Aragon, with their preceptory at Bézu (founded in the mid-13th century) so near to Rennes-le-Château.
However, for Collins what was most significant of all, was that the name of Roncelin de Fos was found on a strange Templar document alleged to have been discovered in 1794 in the Corsino Library of the Vatican Archives by Friedrich Münther, Bishop of Copenhagen, and/or in a Masonic library in Hamburg Germany. Known variously as the ‘Statutes of Roncelin’, ‘The Secret Rule’ and the ‘Book of the Baptism of Fire’, it sets out the Secret Statutes of the Knights Templar. It bears at its base the name of Robert de Samfort, Procurator of the Templar Order in England in 1240, although Roncelin de Fos is said to have had a hand in its composition. Although the Statutes’ authenticity is dismissed out of hand by Templar historians, Collins feels it is worth investigating as it contains some very important statements pertinent to the Grail and the Head of God. For example, a candidate’s reception into the Templi Secretum, which would involve a receptor and three brothers as witnesses, included both a ritual and a consolamentum, the Cathar name for their version of the nocturnal communion meal taken by the early Christians. Indeed, the Secret Statutes actually refer to the fact that Albigensis’ (Cathars), as well as other members of other heretical and Gnostic sects, are to be allowed admittance into the Templi Secretum.
Jesus is referred to in the ritual and consolamentum described in the Secret Statutes simply as ‘Mary’s son called Jesus’, while, again with the Cathar reception, verses of John’s gospel are read out during the oration. The so-called ‘Third Prayer’ is called ‘The Baphomet’ and opens with a reading from the first verses of the Koran, after which the receptor adds: ‘One master, one faith, one baptism, one God father of all and who in invocation of God’s name shall be saved.’ After this he raises the neophyte and anoints his eyelids with consecrated oil, with the words: ‘I want to anoint you, friend of God, with the oil of Grace, so you may see the light of your fire baptism for so it shines for thee and for us on our path of truth and eternal life.’
At this point, an ‘image of Baphomet’, almost certainly a head reliquary, is ‘retired from its shrine’ as the receptor says: ’The people that walked through darkness have seen a great light and it has shone for all those sitting in the trees of the dead. There are three who pay homage to God and the world and [these] three are St John.’ Thereafter, all brothers shout out ‘Yah Allah’, which means ‘Splendour of God’, at which they kiss the image and touch it with their belts (the waist cord of their belts). Once the ritual is over, the consoled, or chosen one, is then led to the library archives where he learns about ‘the Divine Science, of God, of young Jesus, the true Baphomet, the new Babylon, of [the] nature of things, of eternal life, as well as: the Secret Science of the Great Philosophy: Abrax and the talismans. These things must be rigorously hidden to the ecclesiastics admitted in the Order [i.e., the Priests].’
I would make the observation here that aspects of this ritual remind me of the conferring of the various degrees involved in the ancient Egyptian initiatory path of the adept that I described in my article The Egyptian Pilgrimage of Initiation. This involved the candidate being introduced to more and more esoteric knowledge, including the sacred sciences, as they progressed through the seven degrees culminating in that of the highest, the Illuminati. This ritualistic process may have been carried over into the Egyptian Essenes and from them to the Jewish Essenes, after which it may have been inherited by the medieval Assassins – whose secret teachings may have influenced the Templars, as reflected by the use of the cry ‘Yah Allah’ in the ritual. The other observation I would make is that this ritual is clearly heretical from a Christian viewpoint, and it is interesting that in the account of the ritual it states that these things must be rigorously hidden from the ecclesiastics of the Order who no doubt would have been horrified by such heresy. If the account of this ritual is true, it would certainly explain why the Templar priest John de Stoke was readily prepared to admit to the existence of such illicit activities to his inquisitors since it is an easy matter to confess the truth.
However, Andrew Collins was able to recognise in this account the origin behind Richard Ward’s reference to a Templar-inspired ‘baptism of fire’, which the Angel Bartzabel and the spirit of Aleister Crowley had instructed him to take before the Baphomet statue in the Hastings Caves. Collins adds that in the Cathar consolamentum the candidate received the Holy Spirit in a manner that was likened to how the apostles and disciples of Christ received the divine fire of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, which is seen by some Christians as the fulfilment of John the Baptist’s prophecy that one would come after him, i.e., Jesus, who would baptise not with water but with the Holy Spirit and fire. For Collins, this then was why the reception into the Templi Secretum was known as the ‘Baptism of Fire’ since it borrowed directly from the Cathars’ own consolamentum. As Collins comments, this in itself does not authenticate the document, but it does show that whoever composed it had a profound understanding of Cathar religious practices. Collins notes more significantly that it is known that even before the fall of the last Cathar stronghold at Montsegur in 1244, various noblemen from families with known Cathar affiliations joined the ranks of the Templars of Roussillon-Aragon, whose administrative centre was at Mas Déu in France. This led Collins to wonder if they brought with them into the Order knowledge not only of the consolamentum but also of other unorthodox religious practices. With Roncelin de Fos’s own associations with the Aragonese king, might he have constructed the rituals for a knight’s reception into the Order’s inner chapter based on the new-found Cathar influence among the Templars of Roussillon-Aragon.
Collins continues by observing that it would seem certain that Stephen de Staplebridge must have undergone a ritual and consolamentum similar to that described in the Secret Statutes since he cited Roncelin de Fos as being responsible for leading the Order astray. For Collins, exactly why de Staplebridge should have admitted to this is difficult to determine, although it appears that he was certainly privy to the organisation and infrastructure of the Templi Secretum. Whatever the reason, the likelihood is that de Staplebridge’s second reception involved him kissing ‘the image of Baphomet’, which Collins thought was very probably a head reliquary, perhaps even the one Richard Ward saw being used in the bizarre ritual at Garway. It was also here that in 1294 Jacques de Molay, the Master of the Order and the former Grand Preceptor in England, had received the Templar priest John de Stoke into the Templi Secretum, confirming the place’s significance to the Order’s inner chapter or circle.
Abraxus
During that ritual, Ward had seen seven knights lying in a star pattern in the presence of not only de Staplebridge and the head reliquary, but also a scantily clad woman holding a cup, who probably represented the Gnostic concept of Sophia, female wisdom [MJF: recalling here how Schonfield using the Akbash Cipher discovered that the word ‘Baphomet’ transformed into Sophia]. Collins sees a link her between the Templars and Gnosticism as being certain, for the reference in the Secret Stautes to ‘Abrax’ alludes to a demiurge called Abraxus who was venerated principally by the followers of Basilides, a Gnostic based in Alexandria, who flourished circa 120-140 AD. The word Abraxas (or Abrasax or Abracax) was engraved on certain antique stones, called Abraxas stones, which were used as amulets or charms by Gnostic sects.
Gnostics identified Abraxas with the Hebrew god Yahweh (under the Greek form "IAO"). Amulets and seals bearing the figure of Abraxas were popular in the 2nd century AD, and these stones survived in the treasuries of the Middle Ages. Thus, the Templars' use of Abraxas as a seal was most likely a result of their expansive treasuries containing a number of ancient gemstones.
Abraxas took the form of a composite deity with the head of a rooster, the body of a man – his legs replaced by two snakes – and with a shield symbolising the sun in one hand and a flail in the other. In the other form, he bore the head of a lion. Abraxas was seen as a controller of time through the movement of the sun, a supposition confirmed by the fact that the numerical value of his name is said to add up to 365, the number of days in a solar year, and the number of aeons, or ages, over which he rules.
Apart from appearing in the Secret Statutes, Abraxus features as the image on a counter seal of Templar origin (see my earlier post), thus confirming the influence that Gnosticism held within the Order. For example. Abraxas appeared on the seal of a Templar Grand Master in a French charter dated 1214 (see below):
To the right of this engraved image are the seven stars, representing the seven planets and the seven spheres of existence [MJF: seven densities?], while inside a border are the words Templi Secretum, confirming the seal’s use as a sign of the Order’s inner chapter.
The Garway Piscina
Earlier in this article, I mentioned the piscina carved into a niche in the church of St Michael Garway. Collins believes that the interconnected carved imagery or graffiti appearing above the opening to the piscina is probably of Gnostic-Templar origin. Collins notes that directly above the ‘head’ positioned like a crown, is a triangle with hatching, very possibly a representation of the Great Pyramid, over which is an equal-armed cross inside a circle – the two being linked together by a square box. For Collins, this sits within a pair of ‘wings’, which to him are just that, wings, like those which flank the sun-disc in Ancient Egyptian art. Alternatively, he thinks they could denote the cross section of a bowl, plausibly signifying the communion cup of the Eucharist [MJF: or a libation cup similar to the one I referred to earlier]. On each side of the ‘head’ are other carved forms – to its left is a fish, a Christian sign denoting Christ, and to the right is a snake, the Gnostic symbol of knowledge and wisdom very much associated with Sophia. As Collins notes, whatever the true symbolism of this graffiti, their nature suggests that those who carved them were familiar with the Gnostic Christian mysteries.
The Mind of Stephen de Staplebridge the Apostate
Andrew Collins discovered before the end of his first trial that Stephen de Staplebridge did something very curious indeed:
“And then bending with knees to the ground, with eyes uplifted and hands clasped together, with tears, sighs and laments, he devotedly asked for the mercy and grace of the Holy Church; and that there should be enjoined on him a salutary penance for what he had done, saying that he did not care about the death of the body, nor about other torments, but only for the safety of the soul.”
As Collins points out, this might initially look like the words and actions of a man full of remorse for the ills that he had done, but something does not quite add up. For a start, we know that many such Templar confessions were obtained under torture or with the threat of a painful death by torture. Secondly, this was a man who after being given the chance to do penance at the Augustinian Priory of Merton, quickly went absent without leave. Subsequently, he was caught again at New Sarum (Salisbury) and despatched eventually to the Augustinian Priory of Christchurch (Collins also wondered here what special importance New Sarum may have held for de Staplebridge). Due to his blatantly troublesome nature, the Prior there was told not to advance him beyond the first level of tonsure, most probably because the clergy feared he would incite unrest among the canons. Collins thus took the view that there was every reason to suspect that Stephen de Staplebridge’s actions in front of the Bishops of London and Chichester implied a ruse on his part so that he might forego torture and possible death and, instead, be given a ‘soft sentence’ which he knew would allow him to escape when the opportunity arose, as actually happened.
Interestingly, another historical source spoke of Stephen de Staplebridge as one of two Templars listed in connection with the preceptory at Lydley in Shropshire, when in 1308 the Order’s confiscated estates there were valued at £44. The preceptory’s warden, Henry de Halton, gave himself up, but as Evelyn Lord in The Knights Templar in Britain admits: “Stephen de Staplebridge escaped, threw off his robe and fled to Salisbury where he was eventually arrested”. More significantly, Lord refers to him as ‘the apostate’, the rebel, a fitting epithet for a knight who defied his would-be captors for so long. It would appear from the evidence adduced above that he was indeed an apostate and one who evidently did not let his belief in the rule of the Templars die when the Order was officially dissolved.
Continues in Part 4