God's Wolf

by Jeffrey Lee

  Reynald’s pre-eminence among the barons of the kingdom is quickly seen in the records. From 1177 onwards, Reynald put his signature on many royal documents, always as the first or second of the magnates to sign after the king – a clear indication of his precedence at court. He was certainly involved in the major decisions affecting the realm. The most pressing issue they had to confront was the succession. The ailing King Baldwin would not live long, but as a leper he could not marry. His heirs were his sisters, Sybilla and Isabella. In 1176, to ensure a male successor, Sybilla married the able and popular William ‘Longsword’ of Montferrat. In the event of Baldwin’s death he might have made a good regent and, in time, a good king.

  As the year 1177 progressed, King Baldwin’s health deteriorated again. A deputy was needed to run the affairs of the kingdom. The obvious choice would have been William Longsword, but in June 1177, struck down by another of Outremer’s mysterious illnesses, he died, leaving Sybilla pregnant. King Baldwin then turned to the most reliable and respected of his nobles, Reynald de Chatillon. Reynald was appointed ‘Procurator’ of the army and the kingdom, effectively the king’s executive regent. Raymond of Tripoli and his sympathizers would not have been pleased at this severe affront. It was clear that the king no longer regarded Raymond as the leading man of the realm. Reynald’s preferment was an openly critical verdict on Count Raymond’s past performance as regent and his unwillingness to take on Saladin. It also demonstrated the desire of the king and the royal faction to distance the power-hungry Raymond from the crown.

  Reynald, on the other hand, though ambitious, had no claim to the throne and was extremely loyal. As Professor Bernard Hamilton points out, another reason for choosing Reynald was that any regent would have to work with the Byzantines in the planned invasion of Egypt.10 Given his many dealings with Manuel, Reynald was best suited to that task. He had offended the emperor, yes; but he had subsequently shown a grasp of realpolitik, understood Byzantine ways and had done his penance. On the other hand, the Greeks may not have accepted Raymond as commander-in-chief of the Franks. Raymond had still not reconciled with the emperor since Manuel condemned his sister to spinsterhood, and his savage revenge raid on Cyprus, unlike Reynald’s, remained unexpiated.

  Overall there was agreement amongst the barons on the appointment of Reynald. According to William of Tyre, then chancellor of the kingdom, Prince Reynald ‘often exercised command in place of the sick sovereign’11 and was given the honour of executive regent because he was ‘a man of proven loyalty and unusual steadfastness of character’.12

  The lowly Burgundian knight was therefore effectively running the Kingdom of Jerusalem when, in August 1177, the great magnate Count Philip of Flanders arrived from Europe on crusade. The son of the serial crusader Thierry of Flanders, Philip was a ready-made solution for the Kingdom of Jerusalem’s internal political divisions – if he could be persuaded to stay and take charge. Philip also arrived with a large troop of knights, a formidable addition to the Frankish field army, now in readiness for the imminent invasion of Egypt. King Baldwin was again unwell and was staying at Ascalon on the coast, for his health. He was carried on a litter up to Jerusalem, where he offered the regency to Philip. This might have been a snub to Reynald, but he never seems to have borne the king any ill will, and his loyalty to the royal party in the kingdom did not waver. In any case, Philip declined the offer. He had no wish to remain in the East as on-off regent while the king’s health waxed and waned. King Baldwin then offered him command of the invasion of Egypt, but again Philip demurred. He would not accept the leadership unless he had the right to rule the conquered territories. This was unacceptable to the king and his barons. Just as Philip’s father Thierry had found at the sieges of Damascus and Shazyar, the local nobility could not countenance such a great prize falling into the hands of a visitor. Moreover, in this case the Franks had no room for manoeuvre. The treaty with Manuel promised that any Egyptian conquests would become Byzantine territory.

  When Philip rejected the post, Reynald was reconfirmed as commander-in-chief. Normally military command would have devolved on the constable, Humphrey II of Toron, but he was also very ill. Again Reynald’s appointment had the support of the kingdom’s nobility. Unfortunately Philip, recalling Thierry’s quarrel with Reynald at Shayzar, categorically refused to serve under the Lord of Kerak.

  While the Franks bickered, a magnificent imperial fleet of seventy galleys and their support ships sailed into the port of Acre. The Greek field army may have been shattered at Myriokephalon, but their sea power was still intact and ready to implement the alliance negotiated by Reynald. Among the fleet’s passengers was the Orthodox Patriarch of Jerusalem, Leontius, who was to spend an uncomfortable few months in the Latin Kingdom before returning to Constantinople. Weeks passed and the Byzantines watched in increasing impatience and alarm as the invasion plans stuttered and then stalled. Meanwhile Saladin, with ample warning of his enemies’ intentions, gathered a huge army to defend the Egyptian frontier.

  The machinations of Reynald’s rivals lay behind Philip’s hesitations. Raymond of Tripoli could not bring himself to fight alongside the Byzantines, or under the orders of Reynald de Chatillon, and his hand was revealed when, eventually, the frustrated Philip abandoned the Kingdom of Jerusalem. He took his men, along with a hundred local knights – the pick of Jerusalem’s fighting men – and went north to campaign with Raymond and Bohemond of Antioch. This drove another wedge between Reynald’s faction and that of Raymond of Tripoli. Many of the Franks blamed Philip’s uncooperative attitude on the intrigues of Raymond and his ally Bohemond, who was also perhaps taking the chance to get one over on his stepfather. According to William of Tyre:

  It was said that they tried to entice him [Philip] to their own lands, hoping with his help to undertake something which would benefit their states.13

  In the end they achieved nothing more than abortive attacks on Hama and Harim. Philip, like his father, went home empty-handed. He had fulfilled his crusading vows, but had failed to maximize the potential of his military might for the benefit of Christendom.

  Meanwhile the Egyptian invasion plan was in tatters. The splendid Byzantine war fleet weighed anchor and sailed back to Constantinople. A real chance – perhaps the only one the Franks would ever have – to break Saladin’s power was over, without ever beginning. The manoeuvrings of Raymond and Bohemond had ruined the kingdom’s offensive plans, soured relations with Byzantium and handed its commander-in-chief, Reynald, a perilous strategic position.

  In anticipation of the amphibious invasion, Saladin had assembled an enormous, experienced and well-equipped army in the Nile delta. The combination of Egyptian and Syrian squadrons provided him with spectacular armed strength. ‘No Muslim leader ever had an army like this,’ said Saladin’s right-hand man, the Qadi Al-Fadil, after watching a march-past of almost 150 divisions in Cairo. With the departure of the Greek fleet to Byzantium and substantial Frankish forces to the north, the kingdom had been left undefended. Saladin saw the chance to use his incomparable army in attack. He was already suspected of caring more about his own career than the good of Islam. Saladin’s Muslim opponents frequently pointed out that he spent far more time fighting them than he did in prosecuting the jihad against the infidel. For the sake of his reputation, Saladin needed a success against the Franks.

  Saladin invaded the Kingdom of Jerusalem.

  Marching rapidly across the desert, he left his heavy baggage at the ruins of the ancient pharaonic city of Al-Arish and swooped into Palestine with a huge army of around 26,000 men. These were mostly highly mobile horse archers, but also included a seasoned corps of 8,000 heavier Mamluk cavalry and Saladin’s elite guard. They ravaged the countryside, capturing, killing and ‘tearing to pieces’ as they went. Bypassing the powerful fortress at Gaza and its garrison of eighty Templar knights, they appeared before Ascalon on 23 November 1177. The savagery of this incursion is preserved in Michael the Syrian’s lurid propaganda story tha
t Saladin sacrificed a captive Frank and then washed in his blood.

  Learning of the invasion, the king issued the arrière ban. Only used as a last resort in times of utmost need, this proclamation summoned every able-bodied man in the kingdom to arms. Baldwin himself was so ill that his life was despaired of, but with great courage he rode out at the head of his host. Under the generalship of Prince Reynald, the army marched south from Jerusalem in haste and managed to arrive at Ascalon just before Saladin. Underlining the gravity of the emergency, they had marched from Jerusalem with the True Cross, the holiest relic of the Latin East. Covered in gold and encrusted with jewels, it was said to contain wood from the very cross on which Christ was crucified. They had also marched with every knight still left in the kingdom.

  When Saladin’s army appeared before Ascalon, Reynald led the royal host out in front of the city. The Frankish army was sizeable – around 500 knights, and perhaps a few thousand sergeants and Turcopoles – but Saladin’s vast army outnumbered them many times over. The cause was clearly hopeless, and ‘those most experienced in war’, like Reynald, favoured caution. Skirmishes and single combats took place, but the Franks stood off from the enemy attacks. The Muslim force was too numerous to risk camping in the open, so as night drew in, Reynald ordered the retreat behind the walls of Ascalon. Confident that the relatively small Frankish army posed no threat, Saladin left it in his rear and marched on deeper into Palestine, ravaging the countryside as he went. So sure of victory were the invaders, remembered William of Tyre, that:

  They no longer remained in close array but paraded about in admiration of their own prowess. As though already victorious, Saladin began to allot definite parts of his conquered possessions to his fellow soldiers, and his forces, as if they had already secured all they desired, began to conduct themselves with utter disregard of caution. In scattered bands they wandered freely about and scoured the country in every direction.14

  While Saladin’s men pillaged the kingdom unopposed, no reinforcements arrived for the increasingly beleaguered Frankish army in Ascalon. As the militia levies from around the kingdom hurried towards the coast to answer the call of the arrière ban, they were intercepted in droves by Saladin’s men and either killed or roped together and sent to the rear, to be sold as slaves. Saladin’s forces spread out across the coastal plain as far as Ramleh and the foot of the road leading up through the hills to Jerusalem itself. There was panic in the capital, which the king had stripped of its defenders.

  The terrified populace abandoned the city with its rundown walls and crowded into the citadel, the Tower of David. Saladin was on the verge of total victory.

  Reynald de Chatillon was faced with a desperate situation. The king was severely ill. There, in the field, Reynald was the acting head of the kingdom and the general of its army. He was the man best versed in the arts of war; the steadfast, valiant leader in whom the barons of the kingdom had put their trust. Now, with Saladin’s troops burning, looting and killing in the heart of the realm, and with nothing between them and the capital, he would have to justify that trust.

  As Prince of Antioch, Reynald had bitter experience of challenging superior Turkish forces in battle, but as he considered his options that winter’s night, he would have realized that, faced with the destruction of the kingdom, he had little choice. He decided to offer battle. Collecting the Templar knights from Gaza, Reynald marched the army north along the coast, then turned inland in search of Saladin’s victorious hordes. Marching towards the town of Ramleh, they entered a ravaged landscape covered with drifting smoke and lit by flames from burning villages. Tragic reports of massacres and devastation arrived from all directions, imbuing the Christians with burning rage and a deep resolve. As they advanced, they drove off groups of Muslim looters and skirmishers and then, sometime around midday on 25 November, they sighted the enemy’s main force. Saladin’s army had lost cohesion and was missing various units that were out scouring the plain, but it was still many times larger than the Frankish army.

  Behind their desperately ill leper-king, the Christian host knelt before the True Cross and, weeping and pledging to fight to the death, prayed fervently for divine aid.

  * Saladin detained the Egyptian vizier Shawar and, according to at least one chronicler, personally cut his throat. This is one of only three occasions that I can find when Saladin himself is said to have drawn blood with his weapon. All three involved helpless victims, the last a much more famous prisoner than Shawar, almost thirty years later.

  ** A Qadi is an Islamic judge, but the term is used more loosely for a religious authority or administrator.

  † Only one larger sum would ever be agreed: the ransom of Baldwin of Ibelin in 1180 for 150,000 bezants. This was inflated because Saladin believed that Baldwin was a candidate for the throne of Jerusalem.

  Mont Gisard, Palestine, St Catherine’s Day, 25 November 1177

  Around the middle of that winter day the army of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, led by Reynald de Chatillon, formed their ranks near the long, low hill of Mont Gisard, the tel that hides the biblical city of Gezer.

  In front of the crusaders loomed a terrifying sight. The rolling plain was hidden under a roiling, swirling host of thousands of horsemen, their yellow, green and black banners whirling, drums and trumpets sounding as they galloped into formation. The situation looked grim for the defiant warriors drawn up around the True Cross. While there was no room for retreat, a pitched battle carried grave risks. Defeat would mean annihilation, the loss of Jerusalem and of much of the kingdom, at a stroke.

  But the experienced military eye would have spotted some confusion in Saladin’s manoeuvres. The sultan’s army had been caught unprepared. Many of his troops were still out pillaging far and wide. In some consternation, Saladin sent urgently to summon them back to the main force.

  Though he had achieved a measure of surprise, Reynald did not rush pell-mell into the fight. Surveying the enemy shrewdly, he drew his forces up in battle array and held his knights in check, waiting for the right moment to deliver the telling charge. Faced with such overwhelming numbers, he knew they might get only one chance. Still unsettled, Saladin’s divisions began an intricate tactical manoeuvre to improve their position. This disturbed their formation. Reynald saw an opportunity and made a momentous decision. He attacked.

  Yelling their war cries, the heavy Frankish cavalry charged en masse into the heart of the Turkish lines. ‘Agile as wolves’ and ‘ardent as the flame’, they swooped down on Saladin’s forces ‘as an eagle pounces on a flock of partridges’.15

  The Muslim centre was commanded by Taqi al-Din, Saladin’s nephew. A capable general, he held his men together in the face of the ferocious crusader onslaught, and the two armies collided with shocking force. One band of knights cut right through the Muslim ranks to within reach of Saladin himself. He was saved only by the last-ditch intervention of his personal bodyguard.

  Leaving carnage in his wake, Reynald plunged into the thick of the fight. That day, as years of pent-up frustration and inactivity boiled over in the rage of battle, he personally performed the greatest feats of valour on the field.

  For a while the Turkish centre held off the Franks, with grim slaughter on both sides, but Reynald had judged his tactics well. With the momentum of attack and inspired by holy zeal, the fury of the heavily armoured crusaders at close quarters was simply irresistible.

  As the True Cross glowed with a mysterious light, God stirred up a whirlwind against the enemy and St George appeared on the crusaders’ side, the fight turned inexorably their way. The Muslims began to suffer a terrible butchery. Despite their massive superiority in numbers, the Muslim ranks wavered, tottered and then collapsed in confusion.

  Saladin’s proud army turned and fled.

  Chapter 12

  HERO

  … we shall soon see fields strewn with pieces of helmets and shields and swords and saddle-bows and men cleft through their bodies to their girdles, and we shall see horses
running wild and many lances in side and breast, and joy and tears and dole and rejoicing; the loss will be great and the gain will be immense.

  Bertran de Born1

  The Franks hounded the routed rabble across the plain. Enslaving and killing without mercy, they harried them for twelve leagues, as far as the swamps known as the Marsh of the Starlings. Only the onset of night saved the Muslims from complete annihilation.

  Along with thousands of captives, the booty of horses, tents, weapons and armour was staggering. The Franks captured Saladin’s camp and all his treasure on the field. As the Muslim army disintegrated around them, the captive levies from the arrière ban slipped their shackles and killed the guards, seizing supplies and remounts. In their flight, the Muslims had discarded anything that weighed them down, and from the sedge and reed beds the Franks dredged out breastplates, helmets, shields and weapons of every sort. ‘Roland and Oliver,’ wrote Ernoul in reference to the great heroes of the chansons, ‘did not take so many arms at the battle of Ronceval.’ Scattered stragglers and bands of looters were easily rounded up over the next few days. The most enthusiastic of the Frankish pursuers took almost a week to return, leading camels heavy with saddles, rich vestments, coats of mail and more. For weeks afterwards, prisoners were brought in from caves, forests and mountains. Many gave themselves up, preferring captivity to the privations of hunger and cold in the rainy winter weather.

  For the Muslim soldiers who escaped the battle, further hardship was to come. Weary and demoralized, without food or shelter, they were beset by ten days of violent rainstorms and bitter cold. Their exhausted horses, already tired and hungry after the desert crossing and days of hard riding across Palestine, could not cope with the return journey. They expired in droves. Worse, as the tattered remnants of Saladin’s army struggled back across the wild, rain-lashed wastes, Bedouin Arab tribesmen harassed them mercilessly. The opportunistic nomads also seized the sultan’s heavy baggage at Al-Arish. As William of Tyre gloated: