The patriarch Heraclius quarrels with the king of England--He
returns to Palestine without succour--The disappointment and gloomy
forebodings of the Templars--They prepare to resist Saladin--Their
defeat and slaughter--The valiant deeds of the Marshal of the
Temple--The fatal battle of Tiberias--The captivity of the Grand
Master and the true cross--The captive Templars are offered the
Koran or death--They choose the latter, and are beheaded--The fall
of Jerusalem--The Moslems take possession of the Temple--They
purify it with rose-water, say prayers, and hear a sermon--The
Templars retire to Antioch--Their letters to the king of England
and the Master of the Temple at London--Their exploits at the siege
of Acre.
“The foes of the Lord break into his holy city, even into that
glorious tomb where the virgin blossom of Mary was wrapt up in
linen and spices, and where the first and greatest flower on earth
rose up again.”--_S. Bernardi_, epist. cccxxii.
The Grand Master, Arnold de Torroge, who died on his journey to
England, as before mentioned, was succeeded by Brother Gerard de
Riderfort.[60]
On the 10th of the calends of April, a month after the consecration
by the patriarch Heraclius of the Temple church, the grand council or
parliament of England, composed of the bishops, earls, and barons,
assembled in the house of the Hospitallers at Clerkenwell in London.
It was attended by William king of Scotland and David his brother,
and many of the counts and barons of that distant land. The august
assembly was acquainted, in the king’s name, with the object of the
solemn embassy just sent to him from Jerusalem, and with the desire
of the royal penitent to fulfil his vow and perform his penance; but
the barons were at the same time reminded of the old age of their
sovereign, of the bad state of his health, and of the necessity for
his presence in England. They accordingly represented to King Henry
that the solemn oath taken by him on his coronation was an obligation
antecedent to the penance imposed on him by the pope; that by that oath
he was bound to stay at home and govern his dominions, and that, in
their opinion, it was more wholesome for the king’s soul to defend his
own country against the barbarous French, than to desert it for the
purpose of protecting the distant kingdom of Jerusalem.[61]
Fabian, in his chronicle, gives the following quaint account of the
king’s answer to the patriarch, taken from the Chron. Joan Bromton:
“Lasteley the kynge gaue answere, and sayde that he myghte not leue hys
lande wythoute kepynge, nor yet leue yt to the praye and robbery of
Frenchemen. But he wolde gyue largely of hys own to such as wolde take
upon theym that vyge. Wyth thys answere the patryarke was dyscontente,
and sayde, ‘We seke a man, and not money; welnere euery crysten regyon
sendyth unto us money, but no land sendyth to us a prince. Therefore
we aske a prynce that nedeth money, and not money that nedeth a
prynce.’ But the kynge layde for hym suche excuses, that the patryarke
departed from hym dyscontentyd and comforteless, whereof the kynge
beynge aduertysed, entendynge somwhat to recomforte hym with pleasaunte
words, folowed hym to the see syde. But the more the kynge thought
to satysfye hym with hys fayre speche, the more the patryarke was
dyscontentyd, in so myche that at the last he sayde unto hym, ‘Hytherto
thou haste reygned gloryously, but here after thou shalt be forsaken
of hym whom thou at thys tyme forsakeste. Thynke on hym what he hath
gyuen to thee, and what thou haste yelden to him agayne: howe fyrste
thou were false unto the kynge of Fraunce, and after slewe that holy
man Thomas of Caunterburye, and lastely thou forsakeste the proteccyon
of Crystes faith.’ The kynge was amoued wyth these wordes, and sayde
unto the patryarke, ‘Though all the men of my lande were one bodye, and
spake with one mouth, they durste not speke to me such wordys.’ ‘No
wonder,’ sayde the patryarke, ‘for they loue thyne and not the; that
ys to meane, they loue thy goodes temporall, and fere the for losse of
promocyon, but they loue not thy soule.’ And when he hadde so sayde,
he offeryd hys hedde to the kynge, sayenge, ‘Do by me ryghte as thou
dyddest by that blessed man Thomas of Caunterburye, for I had leur to
be slayne of the, then of the Sarasyns, for thou art worse than any
Sarasyn.’ But the kynge kepte hys paycence, and sayde, ‘I may not wende
oute of my lande, for myne own sonnes wyll aryse agayne me whan I were
absente.’ ‘No wonder,’ sayde the patryarke, ‘for of the deuyll they
come, and to the deuyll they shall go,’ and so departyd from the kynge
in great ire.”[62]
According to Roger de Hoveden, however, the patriarch, on the 17th
of the calends of May, accompanied King Henry into Normandy, where
a conference was held between the sovereigns of France and England
concerning the proposed succour to the Holy Land. Both monarchs were
liberal in promises and fair speeches; but as nothing short of the
presence of the king of England, or of one of his sons, in Palestine,
would satisfy the patriarch, that haughty ecclesiastic failed in his
negotiations and returned in disgust and disappointment to the Holy
Land. On his arrival at Jerusalem with intelligence of his ill success
the greatest consternation prevailed amongst the Latin Christians: and
it was generally observed that the true cross, which had been recovered
from the Persians by the Emperor Heraclius, was about to be lost under
the pontificate, and by the fault of a patriarch of the same name. A
cotemporary writer of Palestine tells us that the patriarch was a very
handsome person, and, in consequence of his beauty, the mother of the
king of Jerusalem fell in love with him, and made him archbishop of
Cæsarea. He then describes how he came to be made patriarch, and how
he was suspected to have poisoned the archbishop of Tyre. After his
return from Rome he fell in love with the wife of a haberdasher who
lived at Naplous, twelve miles from Jerusalem. He went to see her very
often, and, not long after the acquaintanceship commenced, the husband
died. Then the patriarch brought the lady to Jerusalem, clothed her in
rich apparel, bought her a house, and furnished her with an elegant
retinue.[63]
Baldwin the fourth, who was the reigning sovereign of the Latin
kingdom at the period of the departure of the patriarch Heraclius
and the Grand Master of the Temple for Europe, was afflicted with a
frightful leprosy, which rendered it unlawful for him to marry, and
he was consequently deprived of all hope of having an heir of his
body to inherit the crown. Sensible of the dangers and inconvenience
of a female succession, he selected William V. marquis of Montferrat,
surnamed “Long-sword,” as a husband for his eldest sister Sibylla.
Shortly after his marriage the marquis of Montferrat died, leaving
by Sibylla an infant son named Baldwin. Sibylla’s second husband was
Guy de Lusignan, a nobleman of a handsome person, and descended of an
ancient family of Poitou in France. Her choice was at first approved of
by the king, who received his new brother-in-law with favour, loaded
him with honours, and made him regent of the kingdom. Subsequently,
through the intrigues of the count of Tripoli, the king was induced to
deprive Guy de Lusignan of the regency, and to set aside the claims
of Sibylla to the throne, in favour of her son the young Baldwin, who
was then about five years of age. He gave orders for the coronation of
the young prince, and resigned his authority to the count of Tripoli,
who was appointed regent of the kingdom during the minority of the
sovereign, whilst all the fortresses and castles of the land were
committed to the safe keeping of the Templars and Hospitallers. The
youthful Baldwin was carried with vast pomp to the great church of the
Holy Sepulchre, and was there anointed and crowned by the patriarch
in the presence of the Grand Masters of the Temple and the Hospital.
According to ancient custom he was taken, wearing his crown, to the
Temple of the Lord, to make certain offerings, after which he went to
the Temple of Solomon, where the Templars resided, and was entertained
at dinner, together with his barons, by the Grand Master of the Temple
and the military friars. Shortly after the coronation (A. D. 1186)
the ex-king, Baldwin IV., died at Jerusalem, and was buried in the
church of the Resurrection, by the side of Godfrey de Bouillon, and the
other Christian kings. His death was followed, in the short space of
seven months, by that of the infant sovereign Baldwin V., and Sibylla
thus became the undoubted heiress to the throne. The count of Tripoli
refused, however, to surrender the regency, accusing Sibylla of the
horrible and improbable crime of poisoning her own child. But Gerard
de Riderfort, the Grand Master of the Temple, invited her to repair to
Jerusalem, and gave orders for the coronation. He sent letters, in the
queen’s name, to the count of Tripoli and the rebellious barons who
had assembled with their followers in arms at Naplous, (the ancient
Shechem,) requiring them to attend at the appointed time to do homage,
and take the oath of allegiance, but the barons sent back word that
they intended to remain where they were; and they despatched two
Cistercian abbots to the Grand Master of the Temple, and the patriarch
Heraclius, exhorting them for the love of God and his holy apostles
to refrain from crowning Isabella countess of Jaffa, as long as she
remained the wife of Guy de Lusignan. They represented that the latter
had already manifested his utter incapacity for command, both in the
field and in the cabinet; that the kingdom of Jerusalem required an
able general for its sovereign; and they insisted that Sibylla should
be immediately divorced from Guy de Lusignan, and should choose a
husband better fitted to protect the country and undertake the conduct
of the government.
As soon as this message had been received, the Grand Master of the
Temple directed the Templars to take possession of all the gates of
the city of Jerusalem, and issued strict orders that no person should
be allowed to enter or withdraw from the Holy City without an express
permission from himself. Sibylla and Guy de Lusignan were then taken,
guarded by the Templars, to the great church of the Resurrection, where
the patriarch Heraclius and all his clergy were in readiness to receive
them. The crowns of the Latin kingdom were kept in a large chest in the
treasury, fastened with two locks. The Grand Master of the Temple kept
the key of one of these locks, and the Grand Master of the Hospital
had the other. On their arrival at the church, the key of the Grand
Master of the Temple was produced, but the key of the Grand Master of
the Hospital was not forthcoming, nor could that illustrious chieftain
himself anywhere be found. Gerard de Riderfort and Heraclius at last
went in person to the Hospital, and after much hunting about they found
the Grand Master, and immediately demanded the key in the queen’s name.
The powerful Superior of the Hospitallers at first refused to produce
it, but being pressed by many arguments and entreaties, he at last
took out the key and flung it upon the ground, whereupon the patriarch
picked it up, and proceeding to the treasury, speedily produced the
two crowns, one of which he placed upon the high altar of the church
of the Resurrection, and the other by the side of the chair upon
which the countess of Jaffa was seated. Heraclius then performed the
solemn ceremony of the coronation, and when he had placed the crown
on the queen’s head, he reminded her that she was a frail and feeble
woman, but ill fitted to contend with the toil and strife in which
the beleaguered kingdom of Palestine was continually involved, and he
therefore exhorted her to make choice of some person to govern the
kingdom in conjunction with herself; whereupon her majesty, taking
up the crown which had been placed by her side, and calling for her
husband, Guy de Lusignan, thus addressed him:--“Those whom God hath
joined, let no man put asunder. Sire, receive this crown, for I know
none more worthy of it than yourself.” And immediately Guy de Lusignan
was crowned king of Jerusalem, and received the blessing of the
patriarch.
Great was the indignation of the count of Tripoli and the barons, when
they received intelligence of these events. They raised the standard
of revolt, and proclaimed the princess Isabella, the younger sister
of Sibylla, who had been married, at the early period of eight years,
to Humphrey de Thoron, queen of Jerusalem. As soon as Humphrey de
Thoron heard of the proceedings of the count of Tripoli and the barons,
he hurried with the princess to Jerusalem, and the two, throwing
themselves at the feet of the king and queen, respectfully tendered
to them their allegiance. This loyal and decisive conduct struck
terror and dismay into the hearts of the conspirators, most of whom
now proceeded to Jerusalem to do homage; whilst the count of Tripoli,
deserted by his adherents, retired to the strong citadel of Tiberias,
of which place he was the feudal lord, and there remained, proudly
defying the royal power.[64]
The king at first sought to avail himself of the assistance of the
Templars against his rebellious vassal, and exhorted them to besiege
Tiberias; but they refused, as it was contrary to their oaths, and
the spirit of their institution, for them to undertake an aggressive
warfare against any christian prince. The king then gave orders for the
concentration of an army at Nazareth; the count of Tripoli prepared to
defend Tiberias, and it appears unquestionable that he sent to Saladin
for assistance, and entered into a defensive and independent alliance
with that monarch. The citadel of Tiberias was a place of great
strength, the military power of the count was very considerable, and
the friends of the king, foreseeing that the infidels would not fail to
take advantage of a civil war, earnestly besought his majesty to offer
terms of reconciliation to his powerful vassal. It was accordingly
agreed that the Grand Masters of the Temple and the Hospital should
proceed with the archbishop of Tyre, the Lord Balian d’Ibelin, and
the Lord Reginald of Sidon, to Tiberias, and attempt to bring back
the count to his allegiance. These illustrious personages set out
from Jerusalem, and slept the first night at Naplous, of which town
Balian d’Ibelin was the feudal lord, and the next day they journeyed
on towards Nazareth. As they drew near that place, the Grand Master of
the Temple proceeded to pass the night at a neighbouring fortress of
the Knights Templars, called “the castle of La Feue,” and was eating
his supper with the brethren in the refectory of the convent, when
intelligence was brought to him that a strong corps of the Mussulman
cavalry, under the command of Malek al Afdal, one of Saladin’s sons,
had crossed the Jordan at sunrise, and was marching through the
territories of the count of Tripoli.
The chronicle of the Holy Land, written by Radolph, abbot of the
monastery of Coggleshale in Essex, forms the most important and
trustworthy account now in existence of the conquest of Jerusalem by
Saladin, for the writer was, as he tells us, an eye-witness of all
the remarkable events he relates. Radolph was an English monk of the
Cistercian order, and a man of vast learning and erudition. He went on
a pilgrimage to Palestine, and was there on the breaking out of the war
which immediately preceded the loss of the Holy City. He was present
at the siege of Jerusalem, and was wounded by an arrow, “which,” says
the worthy abbot, “pierced through the nose of the relator of these
circumstances; the wood was withdrawn, but a part of the iron barb
remains to this day.” His chronicle was published in 1729, by the
fathers Martene and Durand, in their valuable collection of ancient
chronicles and manuscripts. It commences in the year 1187, and finishes
in 1191.
As soon as the Grand Master of the Temple heard that the infidels had
crossed the Jordan and were ravaging the christian territories, he
sent messengers to a castle of the Templars called “The Convent of
Caco,” situate four miles distant from La Feue, commanding all the
knights that could be spared from the garrison at that place to mount
and come to him with speed. The knights had retired to rest when the
messengers arrived, but they arose from their beds, and at midnight
they were encamped with their horses around the walls of the castle of
La Feue. The next morning, as soon as it was light, the Grand Master,
at the head of ninety of his knights, rode over to Nazareth, and was
joined at that place by the Grand Master of the Hospital and forty
knights of the garrison of Nazareth. The Templars and Hospitallers
were accompanied by four hundred of their foot soldiers, and the
whole force, under the command of the two Grand Masters, amounted to
about six hundred men. With this small but valiant band, they set out
in quest of the infidels, and had proceeded about seven miles from
Nazareth in the direction of the Jordan, when they came suddenly upon a
strong column of Mussulman cavalry amounting to several thousand men,
who were watering their horses at the brook Kishon. Without waiting
to count the number of their enemies, the Templars raised their war
cry, unfolded the blood-red banner, and dashed into the midst of the
astonished and terrified Mussulmen, dealing around them, to use the
words of Abbot Coggleshale, “death and damnation.” The infidels, taken
by surprise, were at first thrown into confusion, discomfited, and
slaughtered; but when the smallness of the force opposed to them became
apparent, they closed in upon the Templars, overwhelmed them with
darts and missiles, and speedily thinned their ranks with a terrific
slaughter. An eye-witness tells us that the military friars were to be
seen bathed with blood and sweat; trembling with fatigue; with their
horses killed under them, and with their swords and lances broken,
closing with the Mussulman warriors, and rolling headlong with them in
the dust. Some tore the darts with which they had been transfixed from
their bodies, and hurled them back with a convulsive effort upon the
enemy; and others, having lost all their weapons in the affray, clung
around the necks of their opponents, dragged them from their horses,
and endeavoured to strangle them under the feet of the combatants.
Jacqueline de Mailly, Marshal of the Temple, performed prodigies of
valour. He was mounted on a white horse, and clothed in the white habit
of his order, with the blood-red cross, the symbol of martyrdom, on
his breast; he became, through his gallant bearing and demeanour, an
object of admiration, even to the Moslems. Radolph compares the fury
and the anger of this warlike monk, as he looked around him upon his
slaughtered brethren, to the wrath of the lioness who has lost her
whelps; and his position and demeanour in the midst of the throng of
infidels, he likens to that of the wild boar when surrounded by dogs
whom he is tearing with his tusks. Every blow of this furious man, says
the worthy abbot, “despatched an infidel to hell;” but with all his
valour Jacqueline de Mailly was slain.
In this bloody battle perished the Grand Master of the Hospital and
all the Templars excepting the Grand Master, Gerard de Riderford, and
two of his knights, who broke through the dense ranks of the Moslems,
and made their escape to Nazareth. The Mussulmen severed the heads of
the slaughtered Templars from their bodies, and attaching them with
cords to the points of their lances, they marched off in the direction
of Tiberias. This disastrous engagement was fought on Friday, the 1st
of May, the feast of St. James and St. Philip. “In that beautiful
season of the year,” says Abbot Coggleshale, “when the inhabitants of
Nazareth were wont to seek the rose and the violet in the fields, they
found only the sad traces of carnage, and the lifeless bodies of their
slaughtered brethren. With mourning and great lamentation they carried
them into the burial-ground of the blessed Virgin Mary at Nazareth,
crying aloud, ‘Daughters of Galilee, put on your mourning clothes, and
ye daughters of Zion, bewail the misfortunes that threaten the kings of
Judah.’”
Whilst this bloody battle was being fought, the Lord Balian d’Ibelin
was journeying with another party of Templars from Naplous to join the
Grand Master at Nazareth, and the following interesting account is
given of their march towards that place. “When they had travelled two
miles, they came to the city of Sebaste. It was a lovely morning, and
they determined to march no further until they had heard mass. They
accordingly turned towards the house of the bishop and awoke him up,
and informed him that the day was breaking. The bishop accordingly
ordered an old chaplain to put on his clothes and say mass, after which
they hastened forwards. Then they came to the castle of La Feue, (a
fortress of the Templars,) and there they found, outside the castle,
the tents of the convent of Caco pitched, and there was no one to
explain what it meant. A varlet was sent into the castle to inquire,
but he found no one within but two sick people who were unable to
speak. Then they marched towards Nazareth, and after they had proceeded
a short distance from the castle of La Feue, they met a brother of the
Temple on horseback, who galloped up to them at a furious rate, calling
out, ‘Bad news, bad news;’ and he informed them how that the Master of
the Hospital had had his head cut off, and how of all the brothers of
the Temple there had escaped but three, the Master of the Temple and
two others, and that the knights whom the king had placed in garrison
at Nazareth, were all taken and killed.” “If Balian d’Ibelin,” says
the chronicler, “had marched straight to Nazareth, with his knights,
instead of halting to hear mass at Sebaste, he would have been in time
to have saved his brethren from slaughter.” As it was, he arrived just
in time to hear the funeral service read over their dead bodies by
William, archbishop of Tyre.[65]
The Grand Master of the Temple, who was at Nazareth, suffering severely
from his wounds, hastened to collect together a small force at that
place to open the communications with Tiberias, which being done, the
Lord Balian d’Ibelin and the archbishop of Tyre proceeded to that place
to have their interview with the count of Tripoli. The Grand Master
accompanied them as far as the hill above the citadel, but not liking
to trust himself into the power of the count, he then retraced his
steps to Nazareth. Both the Moslem and the Christian writers agree in
asserting that the count of Tripoli had at this period entered into
an alliance with Saladin; nevertheless, either smitten with remorse
for his past conduct, or moved by the generous overtures of the king,
he consented to do homage and become reconciled to his sovereign, and
for this purpose immediately set out from Tiberias for Jerusalem. The
interview and reconciliation between the king and the count took place
at Joseph’s well, near Naplous, in the presence of the Templars and
Hospitallers, and the bishops and barons. The count knelt upon one knee
and did homage, whereupon the king raised him up and kissed him, and
they then both returned together to Naplous to take measures for the
protection of the country.
Saladin, on the other hand, was concentrating together a large
army and rapidly maturing his plans for the reconquest of the
Holy City--the long-cherished enterprise of the Mussulmen. Whilst
discord and dissensions had been gradually undermining the strength
of the Christian empire, Saladin had been carefully extending and
consolidating his power. He had reduced the various independent
chieftains of the north of Syria to submission to his throne and
government; he had conquered the cities of Mecca and Medina, and the
whole of Arabia Felix; and his vast empire now extended from Tripoli,
in Africa, to the Tigris, and from the Indian Ocean to the mountains
of Armenia. The Arabian writers enthusiastically recount his pious
exhortations to the true believers to arm in defence of Islam, and
describe with vast enthusiasm his glorious preparations for the holy
war. Bohadin, son of Sjeddadi, his friend and secretary, and great
biographer, before venturing upon the sublime task of describing his
famous and sacred actions, makes a solemn confession of faith, and
offers up praises to the one true God. “Praise be to GOD,” says he,
“who hath blessed us with _Islam_, and hath led us to the understanding
of the true faith beautifully put together, and hath befriended us;
and, through the intercession of our prophet, hath loaded us with every
blessing. I bear witness that there is no God but that one GREAT GOD
who hath _no partner_, (a testimony that will deliver our souls from
the smoky fire of hell,) that MOHAMMED is his _servant_ and _apostle_,
who hath opened unto us the gates of the right road to salvation. These
solemn duties being performed, I will begin to write concerning the
victorious DEFENDER _of the_ FAITH, the tamer of the followers of the
cross, the lifter up of the standard of justice and equity, the saviour
of the world and of religion, Saladin Aboolmodaffer Joseph, the son of
Job, the son of Schadi, Sultan of the Moslems, ay, and of Islam itself;
the deliverer of the holy house of God (the Temple) from the hands of
the idolaters, the servant of two holy cities, whose tomb may the Lord
moisten with the dew of his favour, affording to him the sweetness of
the fruits of the faith.”[66]
Crowds of Mussulmen from all parts of Asia crowded round the standard
of Saladin, and the caliph of Bagdad and all the imauns put up daily
prayers for the success of his arms. After protecting the return of the
caravan from Mecca, Saladin marched to Ashtara, probably the Ashtaroth
Karnain of scripture, belonging to the tribe of Manasseh, not far from
Damascus. He was there met by his son, _Al Malek al Afdal_, “Most
excellent Prince,” and _Moh-hafferoddin ibn Zinoddin_, with the army
under their command. Being afterwards joined by the forces of _Al
Mawsel_, commanded by _Màsûd al Zaf’arâni_, _Maredin_, and _Hamah_, he
reviewed his army, first on the hill called Tel Taisel, and afterwards
at Ashtara, the place of general rendezvous. Whilst completing his
preparations at this place, Saladin received intelligence of the
reconciliation of the count of Tripoli with the king of Jerusalem, and
he determined instantly to lay siege to Tiberias. For this purpose,
on Friday the 17th of the month Rabi, he advanced in three divisions
upon Al Soheira, a village situate at the northern end of the Lake of
Tiberias, where he encamped for the night. The next day he marched
round to the western shore of the lake, and proceeded towards Tiberias
in battle array. On the 21st Rabi, he took the town by storm, put all
who resisted to the sword, and made slaves of the survivors. The place
was then set on fire and reduced to ashes. The countess of Tripoli
retired with the garrison into the citadel, and from thence she
sent messengers to her husband and the king of Jerusalem, earnestly
imploring instant succour.
The king had pitched his tents at Sepphoris, and all the chivalry of
the Latin kingdom were hastening to join his standard and make a last
effort in defence of the tottering kingdom of Jerusalem. The Templars
and Hospitallers collected together a strong force from their different
castles and fortresses,[67] and came into the camp with the holy cross
which had been brought from the church of the Resurrection, to be
placed in the front of the christian array. The count of Tripoli joined
them with the men of Tripoli and Galilee. Prince Reginald of Mount
Royal, made his appearance at the head of a body of light cavalry.
The Lord Balian of Naplous came in with all his armed retainers, and
Reginald, Lord of Sidon, marched into the camp with the men from the
sea coast.
The Grand Master of the Temple had brought with him the treasure which
had been sent to the Templars by the king of England, to be employed
in the defence of the Holy Land, in expiation of the murder of St.
Thomas à Becket, and it was found very acceptable in the exhausted
condition of the Latin treasury. Whilst the christian forces were
assembling at Sepphoris, Saladin sent forward a strong corps of
cavalry, which ravaged and laid waste all the country around the
brook Kishon, from Tiberias to Bethoron, and from the mountains of
Gilboa and Jezreel to Nazareth. From all the eminences nought was to
be seen but the smoking ruins of the villages, hamlets, and scattered
dwellings of the christian population. The whole country, before the
very noses of the warriors of the cross, was enveloped in flame and
smoke, and the christian camp was filled with fugitives who had fled
with terror before the merciless swords of the Moslems. To complete
the misfortunes of the Latins, the king was irresolute and continually
giving contradictory commands, and the christian chieftains, having
lost all confidence in their leader, and despairing of being able to
contend with success against the vast power of Saladin, seemed to be
preparing for a retreat to the sea coast, rather than for a desperate
struggle with the infidels for the preservation of Jerusalem. Upon
this ground only can be explained the long delay of the christian army
at Sepphoris. This place, the ancient capital of Galilee, is situate
between Nazareth and Acre, and an army could at any time secure an easy
and safe retreat from it to the port of the last-named city. Here,
then, the Christians remained, quietly permitting Saladin to occupy a
strong position from whence he could pour his vast masses of cavalry
into the great plain of Esdraelon, and open for himself a direct road
to the Holy City, either through the valley of the Jordan, or through
the great plain along the bases of the mountains of Gilboa.
When the messengers from the countess of Tripoli arrived in the
christian camp, with intelligence that Saladin had burnt and stormed
the town of Tiberias, and that the countess had retired into the
citadel, the king called a council of war. This council assembled in
the royal tent, on the evening of the 2nd of July, A. D. 1187, and
there were present at it, Gerard de Riderfort, the Grand Master of the
Temple, the newly-elected Grand Master of the Hospital, the archbishop
of Tyre, the count of Tripoli, Balian d’Ibelin, lord of Naplous, and
nearly all the bishops and barons of Palestine. The count of Tripoli,
although his capital was in flames, his territories spoiled by the
enemy, and his countess closely besieged, advised the king to remain
inactive where he was; but the Grand Master of the Temple, hearing
this advice, rose up in the midst of the assembly, and stigmatized the
count as a traitor, urging the king instantly to march to the relief
of Tiberias. The barons, however, sided with the count of Tripoli,
and it was determined that the army should remain at Sepphoris. The
council broke up; each man retired to his tent, and the king went to
supper. But the Grand Master of the Temple, agitated by a thousand
conflicting emotions, could not rest. At midnight he arose and sought
the presence of the king. He reproached him for remaining in a state of
inaction at Sepphoris, whilst the enemy was ravaging and laying waste
all the surrounding country, and reducing the Christian population to
a state of hopeless bondage. “It will be an everlasting reproach to
you, sire,” said he, “if you quietly permit the infidels to take before
your face an important christian citadel, which you ought to feel it
your first duty to defend. Know that the Templars will sooner tear the
white mantle from their shoulders, and sell all that they possess, than
remain any longer quiet spectators of the injury and disgrace that have
been brought upon the christian arms.”
Moved by the discourse of the Grand Master, the king consented to
march to the relief of Tiberias, and at morning’s dawn the tents of
the Templars were struck, and the trumpets of the order sounded the
advance. In vain did the count of Tripoli and the barons oppose this
movement, the king and the Templars were resolute, and the host of
the cross soon covered, in full array, the winding road leading to
Tiberias. The count of Tripoli insisted upon leading the van of the
army, as the christian forces were marching through his territories,
and the Templars consequently brought up the rear. The patriarch
Heraclius, whose duty it was to bear the holy cross in front of the
christian array, had remained at Jerusalem, and had confided his sacred
charge to the bishops of Acre and Lidda, a circumstance which gave rise
to many gloomy forebodings amongst the superstitious soldiers of Christ.
As soon as Saladin heard of the advance of the christian army, he
turned the siege of the citadel of Tiberias into a blockade, called
in his detachments of cavalry, and hastened to occupy all the passes
and defiles of the mountains leading to Tiberias. The march of the
infidel host, which amounted to 80,000 horse and foot, over the hilly
country, is compared by an Arabian writer, an eye-witness, to mountains
in movement, or to the vast waves of an agitated sea. Saladin encamped
on the hills beyond Tiberias, resting his left wing upon the lake,
and planting his cavalry in the valleys. When the Latin forces had
arrived within three miles of Tiberias, they came in sight of the
Mussulman army, and were immediately assailed by the light cavalry
of the Arabs. During the afternoon of that day a bloody battle was
fought. The Christians attempted, but in vain, to penetrate the defiles
of the mountains; and when the evening came they found that they had
merely been able to hold their ground without advancing a single step.
Instead of fighting his way, at all hazards, to the lake of Tiberias,
or falling back upon some position where he could have secured a supply
of water, the king, following the advice of the count of Tripoli,
committed the fatal mistake of ordering the tents to be pitched. “When
the Saracens saw that the Christians had pitched their tents,” says the
chronicler, “they came and encamped so close to them that the soldiers
of the two armies could converse together, and not even a cat could
escape from the Christian lines without the knowledge of the Saracens.”
It was a sultry summer’s night, the army of the cross was hemmed in
amongst dry and barren rocks, and both the men and horses, after their
harassing and fatiguing march, threw themselves on the parched ground,
sighing in vain for water. During the livelong night, not a drop of
that precious element touched their lips, and the soldiers arose
exhausted and unrefreshed, for the toil, and labour, and fierce warfare
of the ensuing day.
At sunrise the Templars formed in battle array in the van of the
Christian army, and prepared to open a road through the dense ranks of
the infidels to the lake of Tiberias. An Arabian writer, who witnessed
the movement of their dense and compact columns at early dawn, speaks
of them as “terrible in arms, having their whole bodies cased with
triple mail.” He compares the noise made by their advancing squadrons
to the _loud humming of bees!_ and describes them as animated with
“a flaming desire of vengeance.”[68] Saladin had behind him the lake
of Tiberias, his infantry was in the centre, and the swift cavalry
of the desert was stationed on either wing, under the command of
_Faki-ed-deen_ (teacher of religion). The Templars rushed, we are told,
like lions upon the Moslem infidels, and nothing could withstand their
heavy and impetuous charge. “Never,” says an Arabian doctor of the law,
“have I seen bolder or more powerful soldiers; none more to be feared
by the believers in the true faith.” Saladin set fire to the dry grass
and dwarf shrubs which lay between both armies, and the wind blew the
smoke and the flames directly into the faces of the military friars
and their horses. The fire, the noise, the gleaming weapons, and all
the accompaniments of the horrid scene, have given full scope to the
descriptive powers of the oriental writers. They compare it to the last
judgment; the dust and the smoke obscured the face of the sun, and
the day was turned into night. Sometimes gleams of light darted like
the rapid lightning amid the throng of combatants; then you might see
the dense columns of armed warriors, now immoveable as mountains, and
now sweeping swiftly across the landscape like the rainy clouds over
the face of heaven. “The sons of paradise and the children of fire,”
say they, “then decided their terrible quarrel; the arrows rustled
through the air like the wings of innumerable sparrows, the sparks flew
from the coats of mail and the glancing sabres, and the blood spurting
forth from the bosom of the throng deluged the earth like the rains of
heaven.”... “The avenging sword of the true believers was drawn forth
against the infidels; the faith of the UNITY was opposed to the faith
of the TRINITY, and speedy ruin, desolation, and destruction, overtook
the miserable sons of baptism!”
The lake of Tiberias was two miles distant from the Templars, and ever
and anon its blue and placid waters were to be seen calmly reposing
in the bright sun-beams, or winding gracefully amid the bosom of the
distant mountains; but every inch of the road was fiercely contested;
the expert archers of the Mussulmen lined all the eminences, and the
thirsty soil was drenched with the blood of the best and bravest of the
christian warriors. After almost superhuman exertions, the Templars
and Hospitallers halted, and sent to the king for succour. At this
critical juncture the count of Tripoli, who had always insisted on
being in the van, and whose conduct, from first to last, had been most
suspicious, dashed with a few followers through a party of Mussulmen,
who opened their ranks to let him pass, and fled in safety to Tyre.
The flight of this distinguished nobleman gave rise to a sudden panic,
and the troops that were advancing to the support of the Templars were
driven in one confused mass upon the main body. The military friars,
who rarely turned their backs upon the enemy, maintained, alone and
unaided, a short, sharp, and bloody conflict, which ended in the death
or captivity of every one of them excepting the Grand Master of the
Hospital, who clove his way from the field of battle, and reached
Ascalon in safety, but died of his wounds the day after his arrival.
The Christian soldiers now gave themselves up to despair; the infantry,
which was composed principally of the native population of Palestine,
men taken from the plough and the pruning-hook, crowded together in
disorder and confusion, around the bishops and the holy cross. They
were so wedged together that they were unable to act against the enemy,
and they refused to obey their leaders. Brother Terric, Grand Preceptor
of the Temple, who had been attached to the person of the king, the
Lord Reginald of Sidon, Balian d’Ibelin, lord of Naplous, and many of
the lesser barons and knights, collected their followers together,
rushed over the rocks, down the mountain sides, pierced through the
enemies’ squadrons, and leaving the infantry to their fate, made their
escape to the sea coast. The Arab cavalry dashed on, and surrounding,
with terrific cries, the trembling and unresisting foot soldiers, they
mowed them down with a frightful carnage.
In vain did the bishops of Ptolemais and Lidda, who supported with
difficulty the Holy Cross in the midst of the disordered throng,
attempt to infuse into the base-born peasantry some of that daring
valour and fiery-religious enthusiasm which glowed so fiercely in the
breasts of the Moslems. The Christian fugitives were crowded together
like a flock of sheep when attacked by dogs, and their bitter cries
for mercy ever and anon rent the air, between the loud shouts of ALLAH
_acbar_--“GOD is victorious.” The Moslem chieftains pressed into the
heart of the throng, and cleft their way towards the Holy Cross; the
bishop of Ptolemais was slain, the bishop of Lidda was made captive,
and the cross itself fell into the hands of the infidels. The king of
Jerusalem, the Grand Master of the Temple, the Marquis of Montferrat,
the Lord Reginald de Chatillon, and many other nobles and knights,
were at the same time taken prisoners and led away into captivity.
“Alas, alas,” says Abbot Coggleshale, “that I should have lived to
have seen in my time these awful and terrible calamities.” When the
sun had sunk to rest, and darkness had put an end to the slaughter,
a crowd of Christian fugitives, who survived the long and frightful
carnage, attempted to gain the summit of Mount Hittin, in the vain hope
of escaping from the field of blood, under cover of the obscurity of
the night. But every pass and avenue were strictly watched, and when
morning came they were found cowering on the elevated summit of the
mountain. They were maddened with thirst and exhausted with watching,
but despair gave them some energy; they availed themselves with success
of the strength of their position, and in the first onslaught the
Moslems were repulsed. The sloping sides of Mount Hittin were covered
with dry grass and thistles, which had been scorched and killed by the
hot summer’s sun, and the Moslems again resorted to the expedient of
setting fire to the parched vegetation. The heat of a July sun, added
to that of the raging flames, soon told with fearful effect upon the
weakened frames of the poor Christian warriors, who were absolutely
dying with thirst; some threw away their arms and cast themselves
upon the ground; some cried for mercy, and others calmly awaited the
approach of death.
The Moslem appetite for blood had at this time been slaked; feelings
of compassion for the misfortunes of the fallen had arisen in their
breasts, and as resistance had now ceased in every quarter of the
field, the lives of the fugitives on Mount Hittin were mercifully
spared. Thus ended the memorable battle of Tiberias, which commenced on
the afternoon of the 3rd of July, and ended oh the morning of Saturday,
the 5th. The multitude of captives taken by the Moslems was enormous;
cords could not be found to bind them, the tent ropes were all used
for the purpose, but were insufficient, and the Arabian writers tell
us, that on seeing the dead, one would have thought that there could
have been no prisoners, and on seeing the prisoners, that there could
be no dead. “I saw,” says the secretary and companion of Saladin, who
was present at this terrible fight, and is unable to restrain himself
from pitying the disasters of the vanquished--“I saw the mountains and
the plains, the hills and the valleys, covered with their dead. I saw
their fallen and deserted banners sullied with dust and with blood. I
saw their heads broken and battered, their limbs scattered abroad, and
the blackened corpses piled one upon another like the stones of the
builders. I called to mind the words of the Koran, ‘The infidel shall
say, What am I but _dust_?’... I saw thirty or forty tied together by
one cord. I saw in one place, guarded by one Mussulman, two hundred of
these famous warriors gifted with amazing strength, who had but just
now walked forth amongst the mighty: their proud bearing was gone: they
stood naked with downcast eyes, wretched and miserable.... The lying
infidels were now in the power of the true believers. Their king and
their cross were captured, that cross before which they bow the head
and bend the knee; which they bear aloft and worship with their eyes;
they say that it is the identical wood to which the God whom they
adore was fastened. They had adorned it with fine gold and brilliant
stones; they carried it before their armies; they all bowed towards it
with respect. It was their first duty to defend it; and he who should
desert it would never enjoy peace of mind. The capture of this cross
was more grievous to them than the captivity of their king. Nothing can
compensate them for the loss of it. It was their God; they prostrated
themselves in the dust before it, and sang hymns when it was raised
aloft!”
As soon as all fighting had ceased on the field of battle, Saladin
proceeded to a tent, whither, in obedience to his commands, the king
of Jerusalem, Gerard de Riderfort, the Grand Master of the Temple,
and Reginald de Chatillon had been conducted. This last nobleman had
greatly distinguished himself in various daring expeditions against
the caravans of pilgrims travelling to Mecca, and had become on that
account particularly obnoxious to the pious Saladin. The sultan,
on entering the tent, ordered a bowl of sherbet, the sacred pledge
amongst the Arabs of hospitality and security, to be presented to the
fallen monarch of Jerusalem, and to the Grand Master of the Temple;
but when Reginald de Chatillon would have drunk thereof, Saladin
prevented him, and reproaching the christian nobleman with perfidy and
impiety, he commanded him instantly to acknowledge the prophet whom he
had blasphemed, or to be prepared to meet the death he had so often
deserved. On Reginald’s refusal, Saladin struck him with his scimitar,
and he was immediately despatched by the guards. Bohadin, Saladin’s
friend and secretary, an eye-witness of the scene, gives the following
account of it: “Then Saladin told the interpreter to say thus to the
king, ‘It is thou, not I, who givest drink to this man!’ Then the
sultan sat down at the entrance of the tent, and they brought Prince
Reginald before him, and after refreshing the man’s memory, Saladin
said to him, ‘Now then, I myself will act the part of the defender of
Mohammed!’ He then offered the man the Mohammedan faith, but he refused
it; then the king struck him on the shoulder with a drawn scimitar,
which was a hint to those that were present to do for him; so they sent
his soul to _hell_, and cast out his body before the tent door!”
The next day Saladin proceeded in cold blood to enact the grand
concluding tragedy. The warlike monks of the Temple and of the
Hospital, the bravest and most zealous defenders of the christian
faith, were, of all the warriors of the cross, the most obnoxious to
zealous Mussulmen, and it was determined that death or conversion to
Mahometanism should be the portion of every captive of either order,
excepting the Grand Master of the Temple, for whom it was expected a
heavy ransom would be given. Accordingly, on the christian Sabbath,
at the hour of sunset, the appointed time of prayer, the Moslems
were drawn up in battle array under their respective leaders. The
Mamlook emirs stood in two ranks clothed in yellow, and, at the sound
of the holy trumpet, all the captive knights of the Temple and of the
Hospital were led on to the eminence above Tiberias, in full view of
the beautiful lake of Gennesareth, whose bold and mountainous shores
had been the scene of so many of their Saviour’s miracles. There, as
the last rays of the sun were fading away from the mountain tops,
they were called upon to deny him who had been crucified, to choose
God for their Lord, Islam for their faith, Mecca for their temple,
the Moslems for their brethren, and Mahomet for their prophet. To a
man they refused, and were all decapitated in the presence of Saladin
by the devout zealots of his army, and the doctors and expounders of
the law. An oriental historian, who was present, says that Saladin
sat with a smiling countenance viewing the execution, and that some
of the executioners cut off the heads with a degree of dexterity that
excited great applause. “Oh,” say Omad’eddin Muhammed, “how beautiful
an ornament is the blood of the infidels sprinkled over the followers
of the faith and the true religion!”[69] If the Mussulmen displayed
a becoming zeal in the decapitation and annihilation of the infidel
Templars, these last manifested a no less praiseworthy eagerness for
martyrdom by the swords of the unbelieving Moslems. The Knight Templar,
Brother Nicolas, strove vigorously, we are told, with his companions
to be the first to suffer, and with great difficulty accomplished
his purpose. It was believed by the Christians, in accordance with
the superstitious ideas of those times, that heaven testified its
approbation by a visible sign, and that for three nights, during which
the bodies of the Templars remained unburied on the field, celestial
rays of light played around the corpses of those holy martyrs.
Immediately after this fatal battle, the citadel of Tiberias
surrendered to Saladin, and the countess of Tripoli was permitted to
depart in safety in search of her fugitive husband. There was now no
force in the Latin kingdom capable of offering the least opposition
to the victorious career of the infidels, and Saladin, in order that
he might overrun and subjugate the whole country with the greatest
possible rapidity, divided his army into several bodies, which were
to proceed in different directions, and assemble at last under the
walls of Jerusalem. One strong column, under the command of Malek
el Afdal, proceeded to attack La Feue or Faba, the castle of the
Knights Templars. Nearly all the garrison had perished in the battle
of Tiberias, and after a short conflict the infidels walked into
the fortress, over the dead bodies of the last of its defenders.
From thence they crossed the great plain to Sebaste, and entered the
magnificent church erected by the empress Helena, over the prison in
which St. John the Baptist was beheaded, and over the humble grave
where still repose the remains of St. John and of Zacharias and
Elizabeth his parents. The terrified bishop and clergy had removed all
the gold and silver vessels from the altars and the rich copes and
vestments of the priests, to conceal them from the cupidity of the
Moslems, whereupon these last caused the bishop to be stripped naked
and beaten with rods, and led away all his clergy into captivity. The
wild Turcoman and Bedouin cavalry then dashed up the beautiful valley
of Succoth to Naplous, the ancient Shechem; which they found deserted
and desolate; the inhabitants had abandoned their dwellings and fled
to Jerusalem, and the Mussulmen planted their banners upon the gray
battlements of the castle, and upon the lofty summit of Mount Gerizim.
They then pitched their tents around the interesting well where our
Saviour spoke with the woman of Samaria, and pastured their cavalry in
the valley where Joseph’s brethren were feeding their flocks when they
sold him to the wandering Ishmaelites. Here they remained to gather
some tidings of the operations of their fellow-soldiers on the other
side of the Jordan, and then proceeded to ravage and lay waste all
the country between Naplous and Jerusalem, “continuing,” says Abbot
Coggleshale, “both by night and by day to slaughter every living thing
that they met.”
The column which was to proceed through the valley of the Jordan,
entered the great plain of Esdraelon by Mount Thabor, and taking the
direction of Nain and Endor to Jezreel, they crossed the mountains of
Gilboa to Beisan, and descended the valley of the Jordan, as far as
Jericho. Thence they proceeded to lay siege to a solitary castle of
the Templars, seated upon that celebrated mountain where, according
to tradition, our Saviour was tempted by the Devil with the visionary
scene of “all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them.” In
this castle the Templars maintained a garrison, for the protection of
the pilgrims who came to bathe in the Jordan, and visit the holy places
in the neighbourhood of Jericho. From the toppling crag, whereon it
was seated, the eye commanded an extensive view of the course of the
Jordan, until it falls into the Dead Sea, also of the eastern frontier
of the Latin kingdom, and of the important passes communicating with
Jerusalem. The place was called _Maledoim_, or “the Red Mountain,” on
account of the blood that had been shed upon the spot. Fifty Tyrian
dinars had been offered by Saladin, for the head of every Knight
Templar that was brought him, and the blood-thirsty infidels surrounded
the doomed castle eager for the reward. The whole garrison was put
to the sword, and the place was left a shapeless ruin. The infidels
then marched off in the direction of Jerusalem, and laid waste all the
country between Jericho and the Holy City. They pitched their tents at
Bethany, upon the spot where stood the houses of Simon the leper, and
of Mary Magdalene and Martha, and they destroyed the church built over
the house and tomb of Lazarus. The wild Arab cavalry then swept over
the Mount of Olives; they took possession of the church constructed
upon the summit of that sacred edifice, and extended their ravages up
to the very gates of Jerusalem.
In the mean time Saladin’s valiant brother Saifeddin, “sword of
the faith,” had crossed the desert from Egypt, to participate in
the plunder and spoil of the christian territories. He laid waste
all the country from Daron and Gerar to Jerusalem. In front of his
fierce warriors were to be seen the long bands of mournful captives
tied together by the wrists, and behind them was a dreary desert,
soaked with christian blood. Saifeddin had besieged the strong town
of Mirabel, and placed his military engines in position, when the
terrified inhabitants sent a suppliant deputation to implore his
clemency. He agreed to spare their lives in return for the immediate
surrender of the place, and gave them an escort of four hundred
Mussulmen, to conduct them in safety to Jerusalem. Accompanied by their
wives and little ones, the miserable Christians cast a last look upon
their once happy homes, and proceeded on their toilsome journey to the
Holy City. On their arrival at an eminence, two miles from Jerusalem,
their Arabian escort left them, and immediately afterwards a party of
Templars dashed through the ravine, charged the retiring Moslems, and
put the greater part of them to the sword.
The great Saladin, on the other hand, immediately after the battle
of Tiberias, hastened with the main body of his forces to Acre, and
the terrified inhabitants threw open their gates at his approach.
From thence he swept the whole sea coast to Jaffa, reducing all the
maritime towns, excepting the city of Tyre, which manfully resisted
him. The savage Turcomans from the north, the predatory Bedouins,
the fanatical Arabians, and the swarthy Africans, hurried across the
frontiers, to share in the spoil and plunder of the Latin kingdom.
Radolph, our worthy abbot of Coggleshale, one of those who fled before
the ruthless swords of the infidels, gives a frightful picture of the
aspect of the country. He tells us that the whole land was covered
with dead bodies, rotting and putrifying in the scorching sun-beams.
At early morning you might see the rich and stately church, with the
bright and happy dwellings scattered around it, the blooming garden,
the silvery olive grove, and the rich vineyard; but the fading rays of
the evening sun would fall on smoking masses of shapeless ruins, and
on a dreary and solitary desert. The holy abbot mourns over the fall
of Nazareth, and the desecration by the infidels of the magnificent
church of the Holy Virgin at that place. Sidon, Caiphas, Sepphoris,
Nazareth, Cæserea, Jaffa, Lidda, and Rama, successively fell into the
hands of the Moslems; the inhabitants were led away into captivity, and
the garrisons were put to the sword. The infidels laid waste all the
country about Mount Carmel and Caiphas, and they burnt the celebrated
church of Elias, on the mountain above the port of Acre, which served
as a beacon for navigators.
The government of the order of the Temple, in consequence of the
captivity of the Grand Master Gerard de Riderfort, who was detained in
prison, with Guy, king of Jerusalem, at Damascus, devolved upon Brother
Terric, the Grand Preceptor of Jerusalem, who addressed letters to all
the brethren in the west, imploring aid and assistance. One of these
letters was duly received by Brother Geoffrey, Master of the Temple at
London, as follows:--“Brother Terric, Grand Preceptor of the poor house
of the Temple, and every poor brother, and the whole convent, now,
alas! almost annihilated, to all the preceptors and brothers of the
Temple, to whom these letters shall come, salvation through him to whom
our fervent aspirations are addressed, through him who causeth the sun
and the moon to reign marvellous.
“The many and great calamities wherewith the anger of God, excited
by our manifold sins, hath just now permitted us to be afflicted, we
cannot for grief unfold to you, neither by letters nor by our sobbing
speech. The infidel chiefs having collected together a vast number
of their people, fiercely invaded our Christian territories, and
we, assembling our battalions, hastened to Tiberias to arrest their
march. The enemy having hemmed us in among barren rocks, fiercely
attacked us; the holy cross and the king himself fell into the hands
of the infidels, the whole army was cut to pieces, two hundred and
thirty of our knights were beheaded, without reckoning the sixty who
were killed on the 1st of May. The Lord Reginald of Sidon, the Lord
Ballovius, and we ourselves, escaped with vast difficulty from that
miserable field. The pagans, drunk with the blood of our Christians,
then marched with their whole army against the city of Acre, and took
it by storm. The city of Tyre is at present fiercely besieged, and
neither by night nor by day do the infidels discontinue their furious
assaults. So great is the multitude of them, that they cover like ants
the whole face of the country from Tyre to Jerusalem, and even unto
Gaza. The holy city of Jerusalem, Ascalon, and Tyre, and Beyrout, are
yet left to us and to the christian cause, but the garrisons and the
chief inhabitants of these places, having perished in the battle of
Tiberias, we have no hope of retaining them without succour from heaven
and instant assistance from yourselves.”[70] Saladin, on the other
hand, sent triumphant letters to the caliph. “God and his ANGELS,” says
he, “have mercifully succoured ISLAM. The infidels have been sent to
feed the _fires_ of HELL! The cross is fallen into our hands, around
which they fluttered like the moth round a light; under whose shadow
they assembled, in which they boldly trusted as in a wall; the cross,
the centre and leader of their pride, their superstition, and their
tyranny.”...
Saladin pursued his rapid conquests along the sea coast to the north
of Acre, and took by storm several castles of the Templars. After
a siege of six days, the strong fortress of Tebnin, on the road to
Beirout, was taken by assault, the garrison was put to the sword,
and the fortifications were razed to the ground. On the 22nd, Jomada,
the important city of Beirout, surrendered to Saladin, and shortly
afterwards the castles of Hobeil and Bolerum. The old chronicle
published by Martene, has the following strange passage concerning
the last named castle. “To this castle belonged the lady whom the
count of Tripoli refused to give up to Gerard de Riderfort, the Grand
Master of the Temple, whence arose the great quarrel between them,
which caused the loss of the Holy Land.” After the reduction of all
the maritime towns between Acre and Tripoli, Saladin ordered his
different detachments to concentrate before Jerusalem, and hastened
in person to the south to complete the conquest of the few places
which still resisted the arms of the Mussulmen. He sat down before
Ascalon, and whilst preparing his military engines for battering the
walls, he sent messengers to the Templars at Gaza, representing to
them that the whole land was in his power, that all further efforts
at resistance were useless, and offering them their lives and a
safe retreat to Europe, if they would give up to him the important
fortress committed to their charge. But the military friars sent back
a haughty defiance to the victorious sultan, and recommended him to
take Ascalon before he ventured to ask for the surrender of Gaza. The
season was now advancing--vague rumours were flying about of stupendous
preparations in Europe for the recovery of Palestine, and Saladin
was anxious to besiege and take Jerusalem ere the winter’s rains
commenced. When, therefore, his military engines were planted under
the walls of Ascalon, he once more, as the place was strong, summoned
the inhabitants to surrender, and they then agreed to capitulate on
receiving a solemn promise from Saladin that he would forthwith set at
liberty the king of Jerusalem and the Grand Master of the Temple, and
would respect both the persons and the property of the inhabitants.
These terms were acceded to, and on the 4th of September the gates of
Ascalon were thrown open to the infidels.[71]