Charles Coulombe - A Catholic Quest for the Holy Grail

P erceval was raised by his mother deep in the woods, away from all other human contact. She taught him his faith, and his letters, and warned him to stay away from other people and not to ask questions. But one day, he was out wandering in the woods and encountered a group of men in armor. At first he thought they were angels, so handsome were their faces and so gleaming their metal clothes. But they told him they were in fact knights, a word he had certainly never heard before. But these knights told him that, despite his rude clothing, he had the look of a knight himself and reminded them of someone; they could not recall whom. They invited him to accompany them back to Camelot, the city of their king, Arthur, where dwelt many fine knights. Perhaps, they said to him, he could in time become one himself. Without a second thought or warning his mother, he left with the knights for Camelot immediately.

The Camelot to which Perceval came was beautifulon the surface. Brave knights jousted, the ladies of the court were beautiful, the feasts of the Church were celebrated brilliantly, justice and order reigned, and over all presided King Arthur and his beautiful queen, Guinevere. But dark currents ran underneath. The queens adultery with Lancelot, though known to few, ate like a cancer at the heart of the court. The kings half sister, Morgan le Fay, plotted his downfall and had engineered the birth of an illegitimate and incestuous son for him on their sister Morgause; Morgan was training the lad, Mordred, to be the instrument of Arthurs ruin. Beyond that, many of Arthurs knights were not what they had been: an uncomfortable fact pointed up openly a few years previously one Christmastide when an uncanny Green Knight had challenged the entirety of Camelots chivalry, with only one beardless youth, Gawain, to accept.

But none of this was apparent to Perceval. Arthur accepted him as a candidate for knighthood, and he very quickly acquired all the basic skills in fighting he would need as though he had been born to it. After his knighting, he went forth in search of adventure, as was the custom in those days. He fought robber knights, rescued damsels in distress, and fought off wild beasts. At last he came to a district where all was barren. The villages were empty, the fields fallow and overgrown, and he heard only the clopping of his horses hooves and the calling of crows as they hurriedly flew out of the area. Finally, the road took him to a castle that, unlike the rest of that country, gave every sign of being prosperous and inhabited. He rode up to its gate, was challenged by the sentries, and gave his name and that of Arthur, his lord. There was a burst of trumpets, the drawbridge lowered, and he cantered in. A well-dressed maiden came out to greet him with her servants; he asked her, What is this place called? She replied, Monsalvatch, the Castle of the Holy Grail, my lord.

He was ushered into a great hall, where a regal figure, wounded in the legs, begged forgiveness for not rising due to his wound. He was, as it transpired, the king of this castle and all the land round. He invited Sir Perceval to stay for dinner and to sleep overnight. The knight accepted. Trumpets sounded again, and a number of knights entered and took their places at the tables in the great hall. At that, a procession of maidens entered the room; at their head was one who carried a spear from which flowed into the vessel carried by another an endless stream of blood; behind her was the first maiden he encountered bearing a shimmering golden vessel; she brought it to the wounded king, and first a Host floated from it into his mouth, and then the chalice filled with wine, from which he drank. Sir Perceval was much taken aback by all of this and wished to know what it meant. But he remembered his mothers advice never to ask questions, and so he kept silent. The procession left the room, and suddenly the platters on the tables were filled with haunches of venison, and peacock, and all such meats as one could desire; the heretofore empty decanters were filled with finest wines, and all that company made merry until late. The king spoke pleasantly with Perceval of many things, but despite the knights wonder, no questions would he ask.