Betrayal of the Knights Templar
Jacques de Molay was calm. Through seven long years of accusations, trials, torture, denials and confessions, he had been anything but calm, but as the frail, bearded man was led out onto the Île aux Juifs on the Seine, he did not weep or tremble. A crowd had gathered to watch the old man die, and a pyre had been erected on the small island, ready to be lit and claim his soul. De Molay was stripped of the rags that were once clothes, down to his threadbare shirt, then the guards strapped his thin, pale body to the stake. Finally, the silent man spoke. He asked to be turned to face the Cathedral of Notre Dame and that his hands be freed so he could die in prayer. These requests were granted, and de Molay bowed his head in silent prayer as the pyre was lit. The flames grew fast, and as the tongues of fire lashed up around his body, he spoke once more, his voice rising above the crackle of the flames.
“God knows who is in the wrong and has sinned!” he proclaimed. “Misfortune will soon befall those who have wrongly condemned us; God will avenge our deaths. Make no mistake, all who are against us will suffer because of us!” The flames rose higher, but the pain did not tell on his face. “Pope Clement, King Philip – hear me now!” His voice roared. “Within a year you will answer for your crimes before the presence of God!” After these final words, de Molay fell
