The Malachy Prophecy

Chapter One

Chapel of the Holy Blood (Basiliek van het Heilig Bloed)

Bruges, Belgium

August 10, 1667

The Bishop at the Chapel in Bruges, Belgium, stood outside the building awaiting the arrival of the Papal legation. As he stood there he reread the parchment in his hand. A special emissary will arrive from the Vatican to inspect the Holy Blood relic. You are to give him your full cooperation. The note was signed with the seal of the Pope "Clementis PP IX". Suddenly, the early morning stillness was broken by the staccato sound of approaching hoofbeats. The Bishop stood a bit more erect. The Papal visitor must be entering the Burg Square.

Neatly tucked into a back corner of Burg Square, the Chapel is bordered on three sides by the
Landhuis van het Brugse Vrije (Mansion of Bruges), the Civil Registry and Gothic Town Hall. The Chapel of the Holy Blood consists of a Romanesque lower chapel and a Gothic upper chapel. The Chapel is ornate, but overshadowed by the surrounding buildings, and unless you knew what you were looking for you might miss it. The facade is decorated with golden figures, with the lower statues being of the various Dukes and Duchesses of Flanders.

The Secretary of State was interested in the relic that was stored in the upper chapel. The Holy Blood relic is embedded in a rock-crystal vial, which is placed inside a small glass cylinder, capped with a golden crown at each end. The relic is kept in a magnificent silver tabernacle with a sculpture of the Lamb of God. It is housed in the large side chapel of the upper church. The history of the relic has it that after the Crucifixion, Joseph of Arimathea, wiped blood from the body of Christ and preserved the cloth. The relic remained in the Holy Land until the Second Crusade, when the King of Jerusalem Baldwin III gave it to his brother-in-law, Count of Flanders Diederik van de Elzas. The count arrived with it in Bruges on April 7, 1150 and placed it in a chapel he had built on Burg Square.

The Secretary of State arrived with his retinue, and was escorted into the basilica. The local Bishop was somewhat overwhelmed by the finery of the Papal Secretary and his retinue. Not the type of dress that he was used to in his little corner of the world. The parties decided they would converse in Latin, the language of the church.

Good morning, your Holiness, said the Bishop.

And a good morning to you, Bishop. I take it that all is in order, and that you understood the directive of his Supreme Holiness?

Yes, all is ready.

The Bishop escorted the Secretary of State and his party into the lower St. Basil chamber. The Secretary noted that the lower chamber was very plain, with arches along both sides and with a very plain stone altar in the front. Its walls were plain block, and are not decorated in any form. There were some windows to let in a little light, but overall the impression was one of a cold, dark stone basement.

The Bishop left the other parties in the chamber, and led the Secretary of State up the monumental staircase, called De Steegheere, into the upper chamber. In a sense it has the same feeling that one gets when going from the dark lower chamber of Saint Chapelle in Paris into the light and more beautiful upper chamber. Perhaps it is an allegory for the journey from the underworld to the joys and beauty of heaven. While later it would be decorated with beautiful stain glass windows, at this time the windows were somewhat plain, but they still made the chamber much more airy than the lower chamber. Later generations would add an ornate Altar with the area behind the wall being painted with a beautiful mural, capped off with a picture of Jesus on the cross. At the time the Secretary of State saw it it was not yet quite so grand, but still made a better appearance than the dark lower chamber.

Once the Bishop had given him a history of the chamber, he led the Secretary to the altar to show him the holy relic that was stored there. The holy relic had never been opened since its arrival in Bruges. Its neck is wound with gold thread and its stopper is sealed with red wax. The Secretary could see that the vial is encased in a glass-fronted gold cylinder closed at each end by coronets, or crowns, decorated with angels. The date "MCCCLXXXVIII die III maii" (May 3, 1388) is engraved on the frame. He had to admire the beauty of the craftsmanship even as the enormity of what he was holding in his hand made its way into his consciousness.

After examining the holy relic, the Secretary of State asked that he be allowed to worship alone, so that he could further study and contemplate the Holy Blood relic. He had earlier given the local Bishop an additional Papal letter from Pope Clement IX. The letter confirmed that the Secretary of State was there to verify that the relic was being properly protected. It indicated that the Secretary would be reporting back to the Pope on the condition of the vial. No one was going to question such a high placed emissary. The Bishop humbly excused himself, and indicated he would wait for the Secretary of State in the lower chamber.

Once the Bishop had left the upper chamber, the Secretary waited a few moments to make sure that he was truly alone. The rather mysterious words the Pope had spoken to him earlier came flooding back to him. Yours is an extraordinary mission, and a mission in which failure is not allowed. What you are about to undertake will dramatically affect the future of the Catholic church itself. He wondered if he would ever be told why his mission was so critical. Probably not, he thought. The Pope is God's emissary on earth. He need not explain himself, even to his most trusted advisor.

The Secretary fumbled around in his garments and produced the duplicate vial which had been created for the Pope at the Vatican months earlier. He studied the substitute vial. Clearly no one would ever be able to tell the difference between the duplicate and the original. As he switched the vials he felt a fleeting moment of regret. Future generations of Roman Catholics will sadly be worshiping a false relic, he thought. He placed the substitute relic into the tabernacle.

He allowed a half hour period of time to elapse. He wanted everyone to know that he was carefully studying the condition of the relic. Then he returned to the others gathered in the lower chapel. He thanked the Bishop for his kindness, and indicated that he would be spending the night nearby. He indicated that he and his retinue would set out in the morning for the Vatican. He assured the Priest that he would be giving a favorable report to the Pope.

He took supper with the local clergy, indicating that he was looking forward to a good night's sleep after his long journey. He retired early to his bedchamber, but he would not sleep.

Chapter Two

Near Dijon, France.

August 13, 1667

The Knights lurked in the shadows of the glen, on both sides of the road. They were not, however, dressed as Knights, but as highwaymen. It was their intention to make the murder of the Secretary of State look like a common highway robbery. They would move in quickly, overwhelm the guard, and seize the holy relic. That fellow Catholics had to be killed to get the relic was not their concern. Their orders did not allow for them to show mercy to anyone who stood in the way of the completion of the sacred mission of their Order.

The coach with the Secretary of State came over the hill and descended into the glen. There was only a minimal guard for the Secretary, just a few members of the Swiss Guard. There was a small stream that ran through the glen, and it was a place where people often stopped to water their horses. The coach came to a slow stop and the knights climbed down off their steads. One of the Guards unhitched all of the horses and led them to the stream to drink. Unfortunately, they made the fatal error of not posting some sort of perimeter guard.

The Knights waited until the guards were fully involved in the task of watering the horses before they sprang from the woods and made themselves known. They outnumbered the Papal guard by a margin of two to one, but the guards fought well. The little stream turned red with the blood of Knights and Swiss Guards alike, but the outcome of the battle was never in doubt. One by one the Swiss Guards fell, until they were all finally vanquished.

Once the dust of battle settled, the coach was left standing alone in the glen, the driver slumped over the reins where he had been slain. The reins were now in the hands of one of the Knights. The leader of the Knights slowly and deliberately walked over to the coach. He raised his sword in anticipation of killing the Secretary of State. With his left hand he grasped the door and pulled it open.

The coach was empty.

The Knights had been tricked. The Secretary of State had retired early so that he could leave under the cover of darkness. His coach traveled by a less well known route, with no escort, in the hopes of eluding the ambushers.

Several days later the Secretary would arrive at the Vatican with the holy relic and Pope Clement IX would put his plan into place. It was a plan that he formulated upon learning the full meaning of the Malachy Prophecy. It was not even a plan that he was sure would fully work, and he would not even be alive to see if it did. It was like setting a boat on the water at the head of a long river and hoping that it was still afloat by the time that it reached the sea. In this case the river would be very, very long, and the journey very hazardous.

Could he successfully communicate to someone 400 years later what it was that needed to be done? Would they truly understand the importance of what they were being asked to do? He could only pray that God, in his infinite mercy and wisdom, would give the future generations the wisdom to execute his plan.

Posterity would record that Pope Clement IX had a short reign from 20 June 1667, until he died in Rome on 9 December 1669. Nowhere in that history was it recorded that he was able to commission and see off a Papal fleet journeying to the New World. To a strange place known as Terra Maria, or Maryland Colony. Clement would be best known as an accomplished man of letters, who wrote poetry, dramas and libretti, as well as what may be the first comic opera.

Vatican City.

Rome, Italy.

August 20, 1667.

The men sat around a large rough wood table. In front of them stood one of the Knights who had been involved in leading the failed ambush on the Secretary of State in France. The Grand Master opened the conversation.

What happened in France? he asked.

The Knight standing before them answered. We ambushed the Secretary and his entourage as you ordered Master. We slew the Swiss Guards, but when we came to the carriage we found that the Secretary of State was not in it.

Thank you, said the Grand Master. He pointed to one of the Sergeants seated at the table. Please see that this man is taken out and given water and food and a fresh horse.

The Sergeant rose and escorted the Knight to the door. They both left the room and the door closed behind them. The next thing that the group heard was a muffled scream.

The Sergeant re-entered the room, while wiping blood off his dagger.

The Grand Master spoke. Death to all those who fail their Oath.

The others around the table chanted in unison Death to all those who fail their Oath.

Chapter Three

Breton Bay.

Newtowne Neck, Province of Maryland.

1668.

The large ship road quietly at anchor, the waves gently lapping at the hull. The bay they were anchored in was actually a watershed formed out of a large number of streams that widened into a bay before emptying into the Potomac River. The entrance to the bay was narrow, bounded on either side by Newtowne Neck on the western shore, and Medley's Neck on the eastern shore. Not much room for a ship to maneuver in. The narrow entrance also meant that a ship could easily be trapped there. The area was sparsely populated in 1668, and there was little evidence of civilization ashore. The evening seemed to hover between fading daylight and the coming darkness. A low fog hung over the area, making it seem even more otherworldly. On the deck several men stood by, anxiously watching the seamen lower a small boat into the water. The leader of the landing party paced nervously on the deck. He wrapped his black cassock tighter around his body to ward off the night chill.

The Father General mused on the strange nature of his journey. He remembered being called into a secret meeting with Pope Clement. The meeting had taken place in the Pope's apartment, with only the two of them in the room. The Pope went to great lengths to impress on him the vital nature of this trip, and the need for secrecy. He entrusted to him a package, which the Father General was to deliver to the most far flung outpost of the Jesuit Society. And yet he did not even know why. He had never seen the Pope in such a solemn mood. Clement was usually a urbane man, with an easy, outgoing manner, but on the day of their meeting he seemed tense and more serious. More serious and secretive than the Father General had ever seen him. The Pope had sworn him to secrecy upon pain of excommunication. Extraordinary! What could be so important that the Pope would ask him to make such a hazardous crossing to such a remote location?

And the journey was not without great danger. Sailing the Atlantic Ocean was no mean feat even in these times. The trip had not been without its perils. The seas had been rough, and the Father General was not much of a sailor. He had spent much of the trip in his cabin being sick. He was glad that at least one part of the crossing was now completed, and that they rode at anchor. He was clearly not savoring the dangers of the return journey, but at least, no matter the outcome of the return trip, he would have completed his mission.

And to make matters worse they had not been alone on this trip. It was clear that another ship had been shadowing them on their way to the New World. Why, he did not know. Fortunately, the weather had been on their side in one respect. As they neared their destination they had eluded the other ship during a storm. Was the storm the work of God? At least for the time being it appeared that they were safe, but he knew that fortune had a way of changing in an instant.

What then was it that made this trip so critical and so important to the representative of God on earth? He doubted that he would ever know. Would the local Jesuits in Maryland carry out their part of the mission successfully? So much seemed left to fate. The Pope had stressed on him his belief that the item he was carrying would not be safe, even in the Vatican. How in the world could that be, he wondered? The Vatican was the heart of the Catholic world. Was the Pope insinuating that there were those in the Vatican who were disloyal to the church? How could such a thing even be possible? And yet there was the other ship that had followed them during the crossing. Very troubling. So much mystery.

On their arrival in the Bay they had sent ahead a messenger with a letter from Pope Clement to the Jesuits at Newtowne. It explained that they should be ready to meet a landing party that evening that included the Father General. Now it was time for the main party to go ashore. The Admiral approached the man in the black cassock. He spoke to the man in Italian. Father General, the time has come for you to embark.

The Father General ordered his men to set out the lantern to signal the men on shore of their impending arrival. They received a lantern recognition signal in return.

Newtowne, Maryland

1668.

The Knight's ship that shadowed the larger Papal ship had indeed almost lost them in the storm. However, at extreme range they were able to see the Papal ship make the turn up the Potomac River, and they gave chase. Under the cover of darkness they sailed on just beyond the entrance to Breton Bay, and anchored off of Newtowne Neck, but out of sight of the Jesuit church.

Three Knights, dressed as local farmers, took a small boat and leaving the ship made landfall on Newtowne Neck. They walked the short distance from the landing site towards St. Francis Xavier Church. Before reaching the church they came to the cemetery, where they took cover. With the darkness and fog they were invisible to anyone who was not right next to them.

They waited for several hours, until they suddenly saw the beacon lamp from out on Breton Bay. Shortly thereafter they saw the acknowledgement beacon from the Priest on shore. They quietly withdrew their daggers from their sheaths and waited.

Breton Bay.

Newtowne Neck, Maryland

1668.

Please be careful Father General, the fog is thick tonight and it is may be difficult to find the cove, said the Admiral.

Thank your Admiral for all you have done for us, said the Father General.

The Father General sighed and uttered a silent prayer, Blessed Virgin Mary, please watch over our endeavors. He then ordered his men to climb down the rope ladder and board the boat. As the men climbed down the ladder they disappeared one by one into the shroud of the fog. Not an ill omen, he hoped. The Father General was the last man to climb down and board the boat. He gave the order to push off from the larger ship.

The boat pushed away from the larger ship and moved quietly across Breton Bay. The oarlocks were lined with animal skins to deaden the sound made by the oars scraping against them. The men on the boat kept their eyes on the shoreline trying to keep the signal lamp in view in the fog. The beacon would guide them up the small creek to St. Francis Xavier Church, home of their fellow Jesuits.

Suddenly, they saw the narrow entrance to the creek. They rowed up the creek following the reflected light of the beacon. Out of the fog the shape of St. Francis Xavier church slowly began to emerge. The small wooden church had been built on this neck of land in 1662 on property purchased by the Jesuits from the Bretton family. So different from the church in Rome, from whence they had come. The church had chosen this site in part because the parishioners could reach it by boat. In the early days of the Maryland Province the roads were often treacherous and ill marked.

The Father General had chosen this landing site because it was isolated on the end of Newtowne Neck. The oarsman pulled in the oars and silently glided up the head of the small creek and beached the boat. They disembarked and as they walked through the fog toward the church they saw a figure emerge from the fog. It was the local Jesuit Priest. He knelt down and kissed the ring of the Father General. For a local priest in such a remote location to be visited by the Father General of the entire Jesuit Society was unheard of.

The head of the landing party said in Italian I bring you sacred greetings from the Holy Father Clement IX who has entrusted to you an important task. One of his aides translated his words into English for the Priest. Have you read Pope Clement's letter? he asked.

Yes, said the Priest nervously, and I have prayed long and hard on it.

The Father General went on, Fearing that the item we are entrusting to you could not be safely hidden in the Vatican, our Holy Father has instructed me to see that the item be removed as far from the Vatican as possible for safekeeping. Again the aide translated. The Father General then explained the further terms of the mission and concluded. The Pope has placed great faith in our Order, we must not let him down.

We shall not fail his Holiness, said the Priest. I'm concerned that we are being watched so let us move quickly. I need to return and finish the mass in the church before someone becomes suspicious.

The Father General handed him a small package wrapped in leather and tightly bound. May God watch over you, Father, said the Father General.

And also over you, Father General, said the priest.

The Father General turned and motioned the others back to the boat. The men retreated to the boat and quickly took their places. The Father General was the last to board and the Priest helped push the boat off the shore. The Priest made the sign of the cross, as the long boat quickly dissolved into the fog.

Once the boat was out of sight and sound, out of the mists other shapes began to appear and blocked the path of the Priest to the church. Three men with knives set upon the Priest. The Priest cried out, and the members of the congregation heard his cry. William Johnson, a tobacco farmer from Choptico, went to the door of the church when he heard the screams of the Priest. He could not see much for the fog, but knew the Priest was in danger. He ran out into the church yard and on the way looked for a weapon. He settled for a stout board that was left over from the construction of the church.

William was by nature a peaceful man, but was strongly built. Raising tobacco in the sultry climate of Maryland's tidewater was not a task for the faint of heart, or weak of muscle. Upon seeing the Priest attacked he set out with a purposeful stride. He came up behind one of the men and brought the board down on the back of his head with a satisfying crack. The man slumped to the ground. Now, the second man turned his attention on William and rushed him with the knife. William dodged the thrust and hit the man squarely in the face with the board, dropping him on the spot. The third man, apparently now deciding that he no longer liked the odds, ran off through the cemetery, and towards the road leading away from the church. William knelt over the injured Priest.

Father, are you badly hurt?

One of the men stabbed me, but fortunately he got more of my vestments than he did of me.

Thanks be to God, said William.

The priest motioned toward the Manor House. Please carry me into the Manor house.

William picked up the wounded Priest and carried him to the Manor house. Pounding on the door he awoke the other members of the Jesuit community. They helped him take the Priest into a small room where he was laid to rest on the bed. The priest ordered the other members of the community out of the room before he spoke.

William I have prayed long and hard on this issue, and God tonight has answered my prayers. You will be the Guardian and it is to you, and your family, that our sacred Church entrusts a duty of supreme importance. From his vestments he produced the leather wrapped package and handed it to William.

The Priest explained that, The enclosed packet is now in your possession and must remain so, not only for your lifetime, but for the lifetime of your descendants. The contents must remain hidden and safe, and will be passed through each generation of your family until the Church notifies you that the contents are needed.

But Father, wouldn't it be safer here at the church? said William. I'm just a simple farmer.

That does not matter; my instructions are that the package and its contents should be given to a suitable Guardian outside the church itself. You William have been chosen by God as that Guardian, like it or not. Again, you must keep it safe and see that it is available at such time as the Church calls upon you, or your descendant, to surrender the contents. You have been entrusted with a great responsibility, although I cannot tell you about the contents of the package. You are not to open the package, only to see that it is kept safe. The Priest slumped back into the bed. He would survive the attack, but it was clear that he needed rest. William left the room. He was troubled by what he had heard, but he hid the package in his clothing.

William and a different Priest returned to the congregation where the Priest concluded the Mass. Oddly, when he and the Priest went to see about the two men William had wounded they found them both dead. Not from the blows with the board, but from dagger wounds to the stomach.

William and his family were staying with another Catholic family in Newtowne that night before beginning the journey home to their Plantation St. Peters Wells in Choptico. As he walked with the others he pondered what he had seen and heard that night. Who would attack a Priest? he wondered. He could not imagine. He mused on what might be in the package, but he also recalled the words of the Priest. He vowed never to speak of these events, even with his beloved wife Alice. He would entrust the package to his son John when he came of age. In part a secret is knowledge. However, it can also be a burden, as William now realized. He would bring John to the Priest when he came of age, and have the Priest impress on his son the vital nature of their duty.

William and his wife Alice had come to the New World to escape the religious persecution they had suffered as Catholics in England. He had met Alice on the boat on the way over. She was an indentured servant, and had to work several years to pay off her passage to the New World. Once she completed her period of servitude, they had been married in the church in Maryland. They had two sons, William the younger and John, their oldest son. It would be to John that he would pass on the legacy from the Priest. Life in the New World had been hard, but at least they were free to worship God in their own way. Here he had land, and ownership of something tangible. He and his wife Alice had fought to make a better life for their children, as so many parents before them had also done. From his faith he drew strength. William pondered all this as they walked, and said a silent prayer to himself.

Oh merciful and all-knowing God, please may my family and myself be worthy of the trust you have placed in us.

Would the future generations be good stewards of this valuable object? Perhaps only an all knowing God could tell.

That night in 1668 a pact was made that would travel down through centuries. The duty would pass from father to son, over and over again. Each one would faithfully carry out their role in the process. Yet even as they carried out their mission, none of the Johnsons would ever know the scope of the duty they had inherited. Not until the resignation of a 21st century Pope.

Chapter Four

Vatican City.

Rome, Italy.

January 20, 2013.

Pope