Was Columbus
using old Templar maps when he crossed the Atlantic? At first blush, the
navigator and the fighting monks seem like odd bedfellows. But once I began ferreting around in this dusty corner of history, I found some fascinating connections. Enough, in fact, to trigger
the plot of my latest novel, The Swagger
Sword.
To begin
with, most history buffs know there are some obvious connections between
Columbus and the Knights Templar. Most prominently, the sails on Columbus’ ships
featured the unique splayed Templar cross known as the cross pattée (pictured here is the Santa Maria):
Additionally,
in his later years Columbus featured a so-called “Hooked X” in his signature, a
mark believed by researchers such as Scott Wolter to be a secret code used by
remnants of the outlawed Templars (see two large X letters with barbs on upper
right staves pictured below):
Other connections
between Columbus and the Templars are less well-known. For example, Columbus
grew up in Genoa, bordering the principality of Seborga, the location of the
Templars’ original headquarters and the repository of many of the documents and
maps brought by the Templars to Europe from the Middle East. Could Columbus
have been privy to these maps? Later in life, Columbus married into a prominent
Templar family. His father-in-law, Bartolomeu Perestrello (a nobleman and accomplished navigator in his own
right), was a member of the Knights of Christ (the Portuguese successor order
to the Templars). Perestrello was known to possess a rare and wide-ranging collection
of maritime logs, maps and charts; it has been written that Columbus was given
a key to Perestrello’s library as part of the marriage dowry. After marrying, Columbus
moved to the remote Madeira Islands, where a fellow resident, John Drummond, had
also married into the Perestrello family. Drummond was a grandson of Scottish
explorer Prince Henry Sinclair, believed to have sailed to North America in
1398. It is, accordingly, likely that Columbus had access to extensive Templar maps
and charts through his familial connections to both Perestrello and Drummond.
Another
little-known incident in Columbus’ life sheds further light on the navigator’s
possible ties to the Templars. In 1477, Columbus sailed to Galway, on the west
coast of Ireland, from where the legendary Brendan the Navigator supposedly set
sale in the 6th century on his journey to North America. While
there, Columbus prayed at St. Nicholas’ Church, a structure built over an
original Templar chapel dating back to around the year 1300. St. Nicholas’ Church
has been compared by some historians to Scotland’s famous Roslyn Chapel,
complete with Templar tomb, Apprentice Pillar, and hidden Templar crosses.
(Recall that Roslyn Chapel was built by another grandson—not Drummond—of the
aforementioned Prince Henry Sinclair.) According to his diary, Columbus also
famously observed “Chinese” bodies floating into Galway harbor on driftwood,
which may have been what first prompted him to turn his eyes westward. A granite
monument along the Galway waterfront, topped by a dove (Columbus meaning ‘dove’
in Latin), commemorates this sighting, the marker reading: On these shores around 1477 the Genoese sailor Christoforo Colombo
found sure signs of land beyond the Atlantic.
In fact, as
the monument text hints, Columbus may have turned more than just his eyes
westward. A growing body of evidence indicates he actually crossed the north Atlantic
in 1477. Columbus wrote in a letter to his son: “In the year 1477, in the month of
February, I navigated
100 leagues beyond Thule [to an] island which is as large as England. When I
was there the sea was not frozen over, and the tide was so great as to rise and fall 26 braccias.” We will turn later to the mystery
as to why any sailor would venture into the north Atlantic in February. First,
let’s examine Columbus’ statement. Historically, ‘Thule’ is the name given to
the westernmost edge of the known world. In 1477, that would have been the
western settlements of Greenland (though abandoned by then, they were still
known). A league is about three miles, so 100 leagues is approximately 300
miles. If we think of the word “beyond” as meaning “further than” rather than
merely “from,” we then need to look for an island the size of England with
massive tides (26 braccias equaling approximately 50 feet) located along a
longitudinal line 300 miles west of the west coast of Greenland and far enough
south so that the harbors were not frozen over. Nova Scotia, with its famous
Bay of Fundy tides, matches the description almost perfectly. But, again, why
would Columbus brave the north Atlantic in mid-winter? The answer comes from
researcher Anne Molander, who in her book, The
Horizons of Christopher Columbus, places Columbus in Nova Scotia on
February 13, 1477. His motivation? To view and take measurements during a solar
eclipse. Ms. Molander theorizes that the navigator, who was known to track
celestial events such as eclipses, used the rare opportunity to view the eclipse
elevation angle in order calculate the exact longitude of the eastern coastline
of North America. Recall that, during this time period, trained navigators were
adept at calculating latitude, but reliable methods for measuring longitude had
not yet been invented. Columbus, apparently, was using the rare 1477 eclipse to
gather date for future western exploration. Curiously, Ms. Molander places
Columbus specifically in Nova Scotia’s Clark’s Bay, less than a day’s sail from
the famous Oak Island, legendary repository of the Knights Templar missing treasure.
The
Columbus-Templar connections detailed above were intriguing, but it wasn’t
until I studied the names of the three ships which Columbus sailed to America that
I became convinced the link was a reality. Before examining these ship names,
let’s delve a bit deeper into some of the history referred to earlier in this
analysis. I made a reference to Prince Henry Sinclair and his journey to North
American in 1398. The Da Vinci Code made
the Sinclair/St. Clair family famous by identifying it as the family most
likely to be carrying the Jesus bloodline. As mentioned earlier, this is the
same family which in the mid-1400s built Roslyn Chapel, an edifice some historians
believe holds the key—through its elaborate and esoteric carvings and
decorations—to locating the Holy Grail. Other historians believe the chapel
houses (or housed) the hidden Knights Templar treasure. Whatever the case, the Sinclair/St.
Clair family has a long and intimate historical connection to the Knights
Templar. In fact, a growing number of researchers believe that the purpose of
Prince Henry Sinclair’s 1398 expedition to North America was to hide the
Templar treasure (whether it be a monetary treasure or something more esoteric
such as religious artifacts or secret documents revealing the true teachings of
the early Church). Researcher Scott Wolter, in studying the Hooked X mark found
on many ancient artifacts in North American as well as on Columbus’ signature, makes
a compelling argument that the Hooked X is in fact a secret symbol used by
those who believed that Jesus and Mary Magdalene married and produced children.
(See The Hooked X, by Scott F.
Wolter.) These believers adhered to a version of Christianity which recognized the
importance of the female in both society and in religion, putting them at odds
with the patriarchal Church. In this belief, they had returned to the ancient
pre-Old Testament ways, where the female form was worshiped and deified as the
primary giver of life.
It is
through the prism of this Jesus and Mary Magdalene marriage, and the
Sinclair/St. Clair family connection to both the Jesus bloodline and Columbus,
that we now, finally, turn to the names of Columbus’ three ships. Importantly,
he renamed all three ships before his 1492 expedition. The largest vessel’s
name, the Santa Maria, is the easiest
to analyze: Saint Mary, the Virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus. The Pinta is more of a mystery. In Spanish, the
word means ‘the painted one.’ During the time of Columbus, this was a name attributed
to prostitutes, who “painted” their faces with makeup. Also during this period,
the Church had marginalized Mary Magdalene by referring to her as ‘the
prostitute,’ even though there is nothing in the New Testament identifying her
as such. So the Pinta could very well
be a reference to Mary Magdalene. Last is the Nina, Spanish for ‘the girl.’ Could this be the daughter of Mary
Magdalene, the carrier of the Jesus bloodline? If so, it would complete the set
of women in Jesus’ life—his mother, his wife, his daughter—and be a nod to
those who opposed the patriarchy of the medieval Church. It was only when I
researched further that I realized I was on the right track: The name of the Pinta before Columbus changed it was the
Santa Clara, Portuguese for ‘Saint
Clair.’
So, to put a
bow on it, Columbus named his three ships after the Virgin Mary, Mary
Magdalene, and the carrier of their bloodline, the St. Clair girl. These namings
occurred during the height of the Inquisition, when one needed to be extremely careful
about doing anything which could be interpreted as heretical. But even given the
danger, I find it hard to chalk these names up to coincidence, especially in
light of all the other Columbus connections to the Templars. Columbus was
intent on paying homage to the Templars and their beliefs, and found a subtle
way of renaming his ships to do so.
Given all
this, I have to wonder: Was Columbus using Templar maps when he made his
Atlantic crossing? Is this why he stayed south, because the maps showed no
passage to the north? If so, and especially in light of his 1477 journey to an
area so close to Oak Island, what services had Columbus provided the Templars
in exchange for these priceless charts?
It is this research,
and these questions, which triggered my novel, The Swagger Sword. If you appreciate a good historical mystery as
much as I, I think you’ll enjoy the story.
