Chapter IV (1)

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.”