The Shield and The Sword

by Ernle Bradford

  The Teutonic Order had a quite different fate reserved for it. The last of the military Orders to be formed, the Teutonic Order had begun like the Hospitallers as a nursing service with a hospital in Jerusalem. It had then become dominated by its militant arm, After the expulsion of the Christians from Outremer the Order found a new purpose in Europe by becoming the spearhead of the German colonisation of Prussia. The territories that they carved out of pagan Prussia—where they immediately established churches as well as castles—were automatically surrendered to the Pope. He in his turn handed them back to the Order as a fief. Since the Order was engaged in Christianising the heathen, their warfare in Prussia was regarded as a Crusade. Ultimately the Teutonic knights, forgetting almost entirely their original hospitaller function (and even their crusading zeal), were to become a purely politico-military organisation administering vast estates in the newly conquered territory. They represented the first impulse of that German Drang nach Osten which was to end so disastrously many centuries later in Hitler’s invasion of Russia. The Order itself to all intents and purposes came to an end in 1410 when it was overwhelmed at Tannenberg in East Prussia by King Ladislaus of Poland.

  The years from 1291 to 1310 which the Hospitallers spent in Cyprus were characterised at first by a loss of purpose and next by a growing realisation that if the Order was to survive it must change its character. After a number of other minor campaigns similar to their raid into Egypt and Palestine it seems to have dawned upon them that their future lay not so much as a military arm but as a naval one. They were now islanders, and the only possible way whereby they could carry on the war against the Moslems was by sea. As early as 1300 there is a reference to a small fleet belonging to the Order. The title Admiratus—Admiral—appears in a deed a year later. It is true that the Knights had owned ships before this, but these seem to have been mainly transport vessels used for bringing troops and stores to Palestine. These they still needed and they used them in Cyprus to bring men and merchandise from Europe to their headquarters at Limassol. But it is in Cyprus that we first hear of the Order owning fighting ships—galleys and galleasses. These were probably intended to be used in a Crusade that never took place—a Crusade for which Pope Clement had been campaigning for some years but which failed through lack of funds as well as through the general decline in the crusading spirit in Europe. It was during this period in Cyprus that an astute Grand Master, William de Villaret, drastically reorganised the Order, tightened up its discipline, secured it further properties and privileges in Europe, and ensured its continued existence.

  Nevertheless, although the Knights of St John had their possessions in Cyprus and had gradually recovered from the moral and material losses resulting from their expulsion from Outremer, their position was not satisfactory. The Latin King of Cyprus, Henry, a descendant of the former kings of Jerusalem, was determined that they should not acquire any more holdings in the island. He knew how much power both the Hospitallers and the Templars had exercised in Palestine, contributing to the decline of the kingdom both through their influence and their mutual hostility. He was determined that they were not going to act in a similar fashion in his own country, and made it quite clear to the Orders that they were only present on sufferance. Both the king and his barons viewed the knights with considerable suspicion. Writing of this period in the Order’s history Riley-Smith sums up its achievement and character throughout the preceding centuries:

  If historians have exaggerated the Order’s strength, they have under-emphasised its real historical importance. Not only was it one of the most important institutions in the Latin East, but its officers were great men in many western states. It was one of the first internationally organised exempt Orders of the Church. Its ideal of the care of the sick poor set a standard that was followed by many in the later Middle Ages. It proclaimed, perhaps most characteristically, the crusading ideal: that mixture of charity and pugnacity that had so profound an effect on all western thought in the High Middle Ages. It was an instrument of the popes in the centuries of their preeminence, while in its internal history it reflected the changing social and economic structure of Europe: the rise of the knightly class, but also the emergence of a capitalist monetary economy.

  The opportunity for securing for themselves a territory which they could truly call their own presented itself in 1306. A Genoese pirate and adventurer, Vignolo dei Vignoli, had obtained a lease of the islands of Cos and Leros in the Dodecanese group in the Aegean. He now came and proposed to Grand Master Fulk de Villaret (who had succeeded his uncle William) that he and the Order should join forces. With their combined ships and men they would capture all the islands in the area—in return for which he would retain a third of the income from them. The fact that the islands were part of the Byzantine empire does not seem to have troubled him. (The Latin kingdom of Constantinople had collapsed in 1261 and a Greek emperor was once again upon the throne.) Grand Master de Villaret listened and approved the scheme, but felt that, in his case at least, he should have papal approval before committing his knights and men against what was, in theory at any rate, the territory of another Christian monarch. That permission was not too difficult to obtain, for the fact was that the Byzantine governor of Rhodes had cast off his allegiance to the emperor in Constantinople and was running his island as a miniature independent state. It was nevertheless a Christian country, the Rhodian Greeks belonging to the Orthodox Greek Church, and only extreme casuistry could have justified an attack upon it. Fulk de Villaret was lucky. Pope Clement V, who was later to join with Philip of France in destroying the Templars, was a cynical casuist, Philip’s creature, and a man of easy conscience.

  Chapter 8

  AN ISLAND HOME

  Rhodes is one of the most beautiful islands in the Aegean Sea. It is also the most easterly, lying only ten miles south of Cape Alypo in Asia Minor. The channel between Rhodes and the Turkish dominated mainland carried a large part of the merchant shipping passing between the ports and harbours of the north and those of the Levant, Syria, Palestine, and Egypt The luxuries of the East—spices, silks and sugar—passed their doorstep, as did the grain and timber of the Black Sea. Rhodes was thus admirably suited for the purpose to which the Knights were now to dedicate themselves—the continual harassment of the Moslem world and the disruption of its trade. If they could no longer fight the enemy on land then they would turn to the sea.

  The island which was to become the Order’s home for two centuries had a long history of military and naval distinction. Rhodian seamen had been famous for their skill and ability in classical times. A Rhodian, Timosthenes, had been one of the foremost scholar-navigators in the days of the Ptolemies, and had been chosen Chief Pilot of the great Egyptian fleet. This tradition of nautical excellence persisted into the days of the Roman Empire and the Rhodians had formed the backbone of the imperial navy in the East. The islanders, native to the sea and its ways from childhood, had subsequently gone on to prove their worth in the navies of the Byzantine Empire, showing themselves master mariners and superb navigators over and over again. If, in the two centuries to come, the Knights of St John achieved such remarkable successes against the Moslems the credit for them must go not only to their abilities but to the Rhodian seamen who manned the Order’s navy.

  The island had been called Rhodes by the Greeks after the rockroses which abounded there, while its vines in the sheltered valleys on either side of the main mountain range produced one of the most famous wines of the ancient world. Forty-five miles long, with a greatest breadth of about twenty miles, it was rich not only in vines but in olives and carob trees, as well as being blessed with fertile plains growing every kind of cereal. A mountain range, running from north-east to southwest, formed the island’s backbone. It reached its highest point almost in the centre, where Mount Anavaro swelled up to a height of nearly 4,000 feet. This provided an admirable lookout point, and from here the coast of Asia Minor could be kept under close surveillance, as well as the arch
ipelago studded with the Dodecanese islands to the north. Far away to the south-west the great bulk of Mount Ida in Crete was visible on a clear day. All over the lesser hills and ranges were dense pine forests, providing excellent wood for shipbuilding—and the Rhodians still built the finest ships in the Mediterranean. The climate was agreeable and healthy, the principal winds being westerly. Most of the summer was enlivened by the northerlies that prevail all over the Aegean; only July and August suffered from hot winds blowing off the mainland of Asia Minor. Numerous streams ran down on either side of the main dividing ridge towards the coast.

  There were a number of peasant villages and hamlets in Rhodes, but only one city. This was sited at the eastern end of the island where the classical city had stood, and where that Wonder of the World, the Colossus of Rhodes, a bronze figure of the Sun-God Helios, had once loomed a hundred and five feet high over the city’s harbour. It was the harbour that had determined the site of the city. Since classical times Rhodes had been well served by two artificial harbours which the Byzantines had maintained and improved upon, and which the Knights were to make even more efficient and considerably better defended. The northern harbour was the galley port—Porto del Maridraccio—with a narrow entrance only about 600 feet wide. The southern harbour was the commercial port—Porto Mercantile. Both of these would in due course be protected by impressive fortifications to secure them against enemy attacks. Behind the ports the city of Rhodes rose in an amphitheatre admirably designed for overlooking the harbours and for defending them in time of war. It was here, on the foundation of the classical and Byzantine cities, that the Order of St John were to erect a complex of fortifications that would be strong enough to challenge the mightiest armies and fleets sent against it. As early as the first century B.C. the Greek geographer Strabo had described Rhodes in glowing terms: ‘The city of the Rhodians lies on the eastern promontory. In its harbours, roads, walls, and other buildings, it far surpasses any other cities. I know of none equal, far less superior to it.’

  Grand Master Fulk de Villaret, who will have been well aware of the island’s attractions, might well have anticipated Shakespeare’s Stefano, ‘This will prove a brave kingdom to me.’ But first of all he had to secure it, and this was not to prove easy. The Rhodians, as they had shown themselves time and again over the centuries, were as courageous as they were resourceful. As Orthodox Greeks they knew well enough how the Latins had behaved when they had captured Constantinople. They knew also how they had mismanaged the territories that had subsequently come under their control in mainland Greece. For their part they were prosperous through their agriculture, through their current freedom from Byzantine taxation, and from the profits of the piracy which they practised on the Moslem shipping routes. They had absolutely no intention of allowing these Latin invaders to get control of their island, press new taxes upon them and, no doubt, take for themselves the pickings of piracy.

  The first landings were made in the summer of 1307 from a flotilla of galleys belonging to the Hospitallers and their Genoese supporters. By the autumn of the year only Pheraclos at the head of a large bay on the east coast had fallen to them. In November, however, they had a stroke of fortune. They managed to capture an important strong point, the fortress on Mount Phileremos, through the treachery of one of the Greeks inside who opened a postern gate to them. (Tradition says at sunset as the sheep were being driven in from the fields the knights—emulating the ruse Ulysses played upon Polyphemus—slipped in under sheepskins.) The possession of Phileremos was important because it put them astraddle the main mountain ridge and less than ten miles south of Rhodes itself. In the meantime, Pope Clement V had optimistically confirmed the Hospitallers in their possession of the island—optimistically because it was to be another two years before the city finally fell.

  The long and unexpected resistance of the Rhodians proved a great drain on the Order’s resources, so that it even had to go so far as to mortgage its revenues for twenty years to a Venetian moneylender. One thing the Hospitallers learned during this long campaign was that the city they desired was eminently defensible. Indeed, if it could hold out so well with its Byzantine walls and its Greek defenders, what could it not do if garrisoned by the Order of St John and fortified by all the expertise that they had acquired in the East? In the end the city of Rhodes fell to them not through military operations but through a sheer stroke of luck. The Emperor at Constantinople, hearing of the island’s investment, and wanting to restore it to his own control, despatched a ship laden with reinforcements. Carried off course by a sequence of storms, it finally had to run south-east to Cyprus to seek safety. Coming to anchor under the walls of Famagusta the vessel was seized on the orders of a Cypriot knight, who then prevailed upon its Rhodian master to change sides and to talk the Rhodians into surrender. With their reinforcements gone, and with adequate terms presented to them, the citizens of Rhodes had no option but to surrender. On August 15th, 1309, the city opened its gates to the Order of St John. Fulk de Villaret was now in possession of a fertile and fruitful island with two excellent harbours, as well as a number of usable anchorages along the coasts, and a base from which to operate against the enemy.

  What the Rhodian Greeks thought about it all is never mentioned by the commentators—for the commentators are Latins. History is almost invariably written by the victors. One good thing was that in the three years of operations there had been little bloodshed and the Greeks were born adaptors—provided always that their liberty was respected and the practice of the Orthodox religion was tolerated. They may even have consoled themselves with the thought that the Order would bring increased prosperity to their homeland and that it was at any rate better to have these foreign Christians occupying their city than the infidels whose shadow already lay heavy over the waters.

  One year later the Order officially moved its headquarters from Cyprus to Rhodes. In the division of the spoils with their Genoese partner, Vignolo, the Knights retained all of Rhodes with the exception of two villages, together with the islands of Lemnos and Cos, from which Vignolo had previously been operating. In return for his assistance Vignolo was to receive one-third of all revenues—which included the proceeds from any profitable piracy. The Order could afford to be seemingly so generous. Vignolo would die one day, whereas the Order of St John was self-perpetuating. Although heavily in debt for the moment, Fulk de Villaret could afford the luxury of a smile. For the first time since their expulsion from the Holy Land the Order was in possession of a permanent home, and one which gave every indication of being a pleasant and prosperous one. He had an excellent base for the conduct of operations against the enemy and for the first time in nineteen years the Knights had a real raison d’être. More than that, by the Pope’s confirmation, the Order was now the legitimate owner of the state of Rhodes. The Order, in fact, was Sovereign. Its only obligations were to the Pope and to its original mission of serving the poor and the sick. Not for them the fate of the Templars. So long as they continued to practise their mission they could feel fairly secure about their lands and legacies in Europe. One of the first things that was immediately set in train was the building of a hospital in the city of Rhodes.

  Chapter 9

  RHODIAN SPRING

  It was in Rhodes that the Knights gradually perfected the form of their Order; established the greatest fortress town in the Mediterranean; and became the master seamen of the East. With the occupation of Rhodes they also obtained the rulership of the adjacent Dodecanese islands, Cos and Calymnos, Leros, Piskopi, Nisyros, and Symi. Scattered like a necklace across the eastern Aegean—many of the islands were fertile, and nearly all had useful small harbours. These were to prove themselves the outer defences of Rhodes. Just as in Syria and the Holy Land the Knights had built their castles on a series of concentric fortifications, so now they acquired islands that were to serve the same function for their new home. Rhodes was somewhat similar to the inner keep, the last and major strong point of a castle that was now str
ung out over many square miles of water. At a later date they would also seize and fortify Budrum (St Peter) on the mainland due north of Cos, as well as Kastellorizo, also on the mainland, about eighty miles due east. Again, like the towers on the outer perimeter of a castle wall the islands provided excellent look-out points. (The name of the island Piskopi means exactly this.) A fortified tower was built here as in several other islands and a garrison was maintained whose duty it was to keep watch on the channel between Nisyros and Piskopi and to light a beacon as a signal to Rhodes if any shipping was seen passing through the strait.