A History of the Knights of Malta/Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV.

1230—1291.

• Re-occupation of Jerusalem by the Christians
• Their expulsion by the Korasmins
• Battle of Gaza
• Death of Villebride, and election of Chateauneuf
• Reforms in the Order
• Crusades of St. Louis
• Sanguinary combat between the Hospitallers and Templars
• Siege of Margat
• Siege and fall of Acre.

Bertrand de Texis, whose election in 1230 was recorded in the preceding chapter, died in the following year. Of the career of his successor, Guérin or Guarin, nothing is known worthy of record. The traces of this Grand-Master’s rule are very scanty. In a document dated October 26th, 1231, his name appears as the head of the Order. A leaden bulla or seal of his is also affixed to a document now in the Record Office of Malta, bearing date 1233. He further appears to have been alive in May, 1236, but must have died in that year. In the seal, Guérin is seen kneeling before a cross; the cross of the order is visible on his mantle. The inscription runs:— “Frater Gerinus Custos Ospitalis Jherusalem.” At his death in 1236, Bertrand de Comps was elected as sixteenth Master, in which office he remained till the year 1241.

In addition to the attack made by the Pope on the discipline and morals of the Order, with which the reader is already acquainted, and which took place under his rule, Bertrand also witnessed the third re-occupation of Jerusalem by the Latins. Their brief tenure of the city, which had been the result of the treaty of Frederic with the sultan of Egypt, was brought to a close on the termination of that treaty. The sultan rejected all proposals for a renewal of its provisions, and drove the defenceless Christians out of the place. In the year 1240, however, Richard of Cornwall, brother of Henry III. of England, made his appearance at Acre accompanied by a strong body of English crusaders. A council had been held at Spoletto, in the year 1234, which decreed that one more vigorous effort should be made to rescue the sacred province from infidel domination. Many causes had interfered to prevent the earlier arrival of this force, and on its landing at Acre the earl was surprised to learn that the count of Champagne, who had preceded him with the French crusaders, had been defeated in a battle with the sultan of Damascus, and had, in consequence, concluded a treaty so disadvantageous to the Christians, that none of their leaders, excepting the Templars, would consent to accept its provisions.

Richard had no sooner arrived at the scene of action than he at once prepared to take the field. From the well-known energy of his character, and the strength of the army which was under his command, the most sanguine hopes were entertained of his success. The sultan of Egypt, in whose possession Jerusalem and its environs still remained, was at the moment engaged in war with the sultan of Damascus. He felt, therefore, that the time was most inopportune for resisting the invasion now threatening him, and so, without waiting for any aggressive movements on the part of the earl, he offered at once to conclude a treaty by which he was to surrender Jerusalem, Nazareth, Bethlehem, and Beritus, as well as Mount Thabor and a large portion of the Holy Land. This treaty was accepted by Richard with the approbation of most of the chiefs and dignitaries of the kingdom, and its provisions were at once carried into effect, the cities mentioned being given over to the Latins, and immediately re-occupied by them. Upon this occasion no restrictions were imposed as to the fortifying of Jerusalem, and as it was evidently impossible to hold the place in security without the adoption of prompt measures, the most strenuous exertions were made on all sides to restore its defences. The treasury of the Hospital was in consequence drained to the last farthing, and the power of the Order strained to the uttermost to further the work.

The Templars, indignant that their previous treaty with the sultan of Damascus should have been repudiated, now in their turn refused to join in that made with the sultan of Egypt. Thus the absurd and fatal anomaly was to be witnessed of the two Orders each remaining at war with a prince with whom the other was in alliance. To this unfortunate division must be attributed much of the sad result of the next campaign, a result which Bertrand de Comps was not destined to witness, he having died, in the year 1241, of wounds received in an action against the Turcomans, who had made an irruption into the territories of the prince of Antioch. They were in this battle completely routed, and their defeat cast a halo of glory over the chivalric end of the gallant and aged Master.

The short rule of his successor, Peter de Villebride, was marked by events most disastrous to the fortunes of the kingdom and of the Order, at the head of which the unanimous voice of the fraternity had placed him. A savage horde, known by the name of Korasmins, who dwelt near the shores of the Caspian Sea, having been driven from their homes by the Mogul Tartars, had spread themselves over the neighbouring countries. The leader of this irruption was called Barbacan, a general whose skill in war and intelligence in the art of government were such as to raise him in the scale of civilization far above his wild followers. The sultan of Egypt, dreading lest this inroad should take the direction of his territories, sought to divert the impetuosity of the current into another channel, and with a politic selfishness which the circumstances of the case might well excuse, determined on sacrificing his weaker neighbours to the safety of his own dominions. With this view he suggested to Barbacan that there would be no difficulty in seizing upon the Latin possessions in Syria; and in order still further to induce him to turn his steps in that direction, offered to assist him with a subsidiary force.

This proposition was just suited to a man in the position of Barbacan, who, having been expelled from his own mountain home, had the wide world before him. To him it was perfectly immaterial whether his enemy were Christian or Moslem. All he demanded was that he should be weaker than himself, and that the prospect of booty should be sufficient to render the enterprise lucrative. On, therefore, came the new foe, overrunning and. ravaging the unfortunate province which had but just returned under the rule of the Latins, and which was still suffering most severely from the perpetual warfare of which it had been the victim. Every effort which the brief space of time permitted had been made to place the sacred city in a defensible position, and had a little longer breathing time been vouchsafed to the defenders, they would probably have succeeded in holding their own, whilst the undisciplined bands of the Korasmins would have thrown themselves in vain against the ramparts. As it was, only a few feeble earthworks had as yet risen, and behind these the military Orders felt that it would be madness to attempt a stand. They therefore, after much sad and painful deliberation, determined once more to abandon to the infidel that consecrated soil, the centre of so many aspirations, and, alas! the grave of so many hopes. Many of the inhabitants, however, having only lately established themselves in their new homes, were blinded by the fury of their zeal, and burning to prevent a renewed desecration of their Saviour’s tomb, persisted in remaining behind with the full determination of opposing to the death the onward course of the invaders. Others followed in the rear of the military Orders, who, after having evacuated the city, pitched their camp sufficiently near to enable them to watch the course of events.

As may be conceived, the Korasmins found an easy prey in the mob of undisciplined enthusiasts by whom they were confronted. Hurling themselves in resistless multitudes upon the feeble and unfinished entrenchments, they carried them at the first onslaught. Thence they poured into the city, where they renewed once again those scenes of carnage which had been so often before enacted on the sell-same spot. It is needless to pause on the painful picture. Where savage and unbridled lust is let loose upon a defenceless people the result may be conceived. In the present instance the horrors perpetrated fully equalled anything which the most vivid imagination could dare to portray. With a cunning scarcely to be looked for in such savages, they had no sooner established themselves securely in the city than they raised upon its ramparts the standard of the Christians. Deceived by its appearance, and imagining in consequence that the enemy must have been worsted in the assault, many of the fugitive Christians, who had accompanied the military Orders in their retreat, determined, in spite of the most earnest warnings, once more to return to their homes. There they found themselves entrapped by the ruthless foe, and doomed to share the miserable fate of their comrades.

Meanwhile, the Templars having discovered that a detachment of Egyptians was acting in concert with the Korasmins, called upon their ally, the sultan of Damascus, to aid them in repelling his old antagonist. In reply to this appeal, the sultan despatched a body of 4,000 Darnascene horsemen to join the Christian force. With this reinforcement the Orders stood their ground in the vicinity of Gaza with the intention of watching what further course the victorious Korasmins would take. These latter did not leave them long in suspense. Satiated with slaughter, and weary of inactivity after a few days spent in the wildest revels and the vilest debauchery within the now desolate city, they advanced in a tumultuous horde, flushed with victory and eager for the fray, determined to overwhelm the handful of Latins by whom they were opposed.

In this conjuncture the councils of the Christians were much divided: the chiefs of the military Orders advised a prompt retreat, feeling that the enormous disproportion of their numbers rendered the chances of a battle so unequal as to be desperately hazardous. As, however, on the occasion of the expedition into Egypt, the presumption of one churchman, the legate Pelagius, had caused the miscarriage of the undertaking, so now, by the precipitation of another, was a still worse disaster brought about. The rash advice of the patriarch of Jerusalem overcame the prudent scruples of the other leaders, and it was, in deference to his views, decided that they should stand their ground and await the issue of a general engagement. It is one of the curious phenomena of those times that ecclesiastics were always to be found mixing themselves up with the most secular matters, and those especially with which they might be supposed to have hardly any concern, nay, still further, often, as in the instances here quoted, vehemently obtruding their opinions in questions of a purely military character, and in contemptuous opposition to the most experienced captains of the age.

On this occasion the result did not long remain doubtful. The valour of the Christian chivalry, though exerted to the uttermost, expended itself in vain against the almost countless swarms opposed to them. The Latin army, when drawn up in its battle array, was divided into three corps. The Hospitallers, supported by the count of Jaffa, constituted the left wing; the Templars, with the militia of the kingdom, were in the centre, and the auxiliary force of Turcoman cavalry formed the right wing. Upon this occasion those jealousies which had for so long divided the military Orders, and to a great extent neutralized all the efforts made for the restoration of the kingdom, were quelled in their zeal for the common cause, and the blood of both Hospitaller and Templar flowed freely in a common stream, a worthy sacrifice to their country and religion. For two whole days was the struggle maintained, although at its very commencement the Damascenes, either from treachery or cowardice, turned their backs upon the foe and fled ignominiously from the field. This defection left the Korasmins in a numerical superiority of at least ten to one; still the Latins stood their ground undismayed, and the scale of victory seemed for a long time almost equally balanced. It was not, however, within the power of human endurance to bear up against the interminable stream of new opponents unceasingly poured upon their exhausted ranks by the indefatigable Barbacan. At length, upon the evening of the second day, the Christian force, decimated and overpowered by the sheer weight of numbers, was compelled to give way.

Signal as was their defeat it was unaccompanied by disgrace. Still struggling, though all was lost, the broken remnants of the army refused either to fly or to yield, and there, on the ground where they stood, now strewn with the mangled corpses of their comrades, they fell, one by one, faithful, even to the end, to that holy cause which they had espoused, and to which their lives and fortunes had been consecrated. In this fatal field the Masters, both of the Hospital and Temple, found a noble grave in company with almost the entire body of their respective Orders, only thirty-three of the Templars and sixteen of the Hospitallers surviving the slaughter which marked the close of the struggle. With this disastrous defeat ended all hope of resisting the victorious advance of the Korasmins, and the slender relics of the Christian force sought the shelter of Acre. Here William do Chateauneuf was raised to the post of Master of the Hospital, vacant by the death of Peter de Villebride on the field of Gaza. Prior to his elevation he had been a preceptor in the Order, and it was from a letter of his, recording the fatal issue of that battle, that most of the details of the campaign have been preserved on the page of history.

Chateauneuf found himself at the head of his fraternity at a time when it was plunged into a state of the direst confusion and distress. Within the limits of the Hoiy Land there remained only a few members, mostly wounded, who, from behind the walls of Acre, were compelled to tolerate the ravage of that sacred soil which they were no longer in a position to defend. Spread like a flight of locusts over the province, the Korasmins destroyed far and wide everything which fell within their grasp. Wherever they turned their steps a heart-rending wail of distress and misery arose in their track. Had they remained united amongst themselves it is certain that they must speedily have completed the destruction of the Christians, and there is every probability that they could even have established themselves in secure and permanent empire on the wreck of the two Saracen kingdoms of Egypt and Damascus. Most providentially, however, the seeds of jealousy and mutual animosity soon sprang up in their midst. Commencing in trivial quarrels and unimportant skirmishes their disputes increased in virulence and intensity until eventually they had so far enfeebled themselves as to be no longer an object of dread to the surrounding potentates. Hemmed in on all sides by bitter and now openly declared enemies, and harassed by the peasantry of the district, whose hatred they had aroused by their licentiousness and savage brutality, they gradually diminished in numbers until before long no trace remained of a power which had so lately been the terror of the East.

Freed from the imminent peril which had at one time threatened complete annihilation, Chateauneuf took the most energetic measures to recruit the ranks of his fraternity, and to restore some semblance of credit to its exhausted treasury. Every preceptory in Europe was drained of its members, even novices being included in the conscription; vast sums of money were also remitted from the same sources, so that before long we find that with the re-vivifying power so peculiar to it, the Order was once more flourishing with as stately a grandeur as of old, still remaining, in conjunction with the Templars, the principal, nay, almost the only support of the kingdom.

Until this time it had been an invariable rule, in order to prevent a knight from yielding himself a prisoner, that no member so situated should, on any account, be ransomed by the public treasury. Now, however, when their numbers had become so suddenly and fearfully diminished, it was thought advisable to depart from a rigid adherence to this regulation. Chateauneuf therefore despatched an embassy to the sultan of Egypt, requesting permission to ransom all members of the fraternity then in his hands. The sultan, however, was sufficiently acute to see that if it were in the interest of the Hospitallers thus to purchase the freedom of their brethren, it must naturally be a wise policy on his part to refuse sanction to such a request. This he accordingly did, quoting to the envoys, in support of his decision, the regulation of their Order, which forbade any such traffic. The unfortunate captives were in consequence corn- polled to remain in slavery, whilst the envoys returned to Acre, mortified at the failure of their errand, on which much money had been uselessly spent in bribing the officers of the sultan’s court, only to receive in the end an ignominious rebuff. This refusal has been very generally attributed to the influence of the emperor Frederic, who was at the time in close affiance with the sultan, and whose persevering antipathy to the military Orders has already been touched upon.

Whilst thus striving to restore the fortunes and power of the institution, after the rude shock it had so lately received, Chateauneuf was not unmindful of its interior discipline. We may gather from several different facts that at this time the most rigid austerity was being once more enforced. In support of this statement we find a special license issuing from the Pope, in which permission is given to the brethren to enter into conversation with any secular guest who may chance to be taking his meals in their refectory, otherwise they are enjoined to maintain a strict silence during such times. We also fiud the following incident recorded by Joinville, the historian of the Crusade of St. Louis. A dispute having arisen between some Hospitallers and French knights, who were together in that expedition, Chateauneuf, after investigation, considered his brethren to be in the wrong, and in consequence condemned them to take their meals on the ground. They were, moreover, expressly forbidden to drive away any dog or other animal which might choose to intrude upon their platters. This discipline was maintained unrelaxed until after the most urgent entreaties on the part of Joinville himself, on the occasion of a visit which he paid to their convent.

The Crusade of St. Louis of France was one of the results of the disaster of Gaza, and the consequent loss of the principal cities of the Holy Land. That monarch, of whom history has recorded every virtue that could adorn a hero, and whose piety was destined to earn for him the posthumous honours of canonization, was seized with an ardent desire to achieve what so many of his predecessors had iii vain attempted. Whilst lying on a bed of sickness he had pledged himself to the undertaking even before he had heard of the fatal day of Gaza, and he now decided upon leading in person the chivalry of France to the rescue of their co-religionists in the East. Accompanied by his three brothers, the counts of Artois, Poictiers, and Anjou, and followed by an army of 50,000 well-appointed troops, he landed at Damietta in the summer of 1249, having spent the previous winter in Cyprus. The resistance offered to his landing was but slight, and at the close of a short struggle he found himself master, not only of the shore, but of the city itself. The garrison of the fortress, struck with panic at the bold and daring advance of the French chivalry, and mindful of the scenes which had been enacted on the same spot on the occasion of its previous capture by John of Brienne. abandoned the citadel and took to flight, leaving everything open to the French.

Whilst at Damietta, Louis was joined by the whole strength of the military Orders, led by their respective chiefs in person, as well as by a small body of 200 English lances, under the command of William Lougspee, who had already served with distinction in the former Crusade, under the Earl of Cornwall. An advance towards Cairo was decided on, and the army proceeded without interruption as far as Massoura, a fortified town situated near the confluence of the two branches of the Nile. Here they found the entire Egyptian force awaiting their arrival within an entrenched camp on the far side of the river. For some time all their efforts to effect a passage by means of a temporary bridge were rendered futile by the opposition of the Egyptians. At length, however, a Bedouin Arab, tempted by the offer of a large bribe, consented to guide them to a practicable ford through which the crossing might be made. The king directed his brother, the count of Artois, to cross the ford at the head of a selected body of troops, consisting principally of the military Orders and the English knights under William Longspee. The Arab was true to his word; the ford was reached, the river crossed, and the enemy, who had in vain sought to oppose the operation, was driven from the field. At this moment a strange panic seems to have fallen on the Saracens. Abandoning their intrenchments under the idea that the whole French army was upon them, and even deserting Massoura in their terror, they fled, leaving the count of Artois in undisputed possession of both camp and city.

Had matters ended here, and had cool counsels been allowed to prevail, all would have been well, but it seems to have been the fate of these crusading expeditions that some rash and hot-headed zealot was invariably permitted to override the judgment of those who from their position and long acquaintance with the warfare of Palestine were best qualified to direct operations. The count of Artois, rejecting the prudent advice of Sonnac, the Grand-Master of the Templars, supported though it was by Longspee and the other leaders, determined to push his advantage to the utmost, and heedless of the paucity of his numbers, dashed in hot pursuit alter the retreating enemy. Those soon recovered from their senseless panic, and perceiving the numerical inferiority of the Christians, rallied rapidly at the call of Bendoedar, a valiant Mameluke chief, who had assumed the command, after the death of Sacadeen, killed in the previous engagement. Turning fiercely on their pursuers, they soon threw them into confusion, and drove them in headlong flight back into Massoura. Here it was found that the inhabitants, recovering from their first consternation, had manned the walls of the place and were opposing the entrance of the fugitives. A street fight ensued, in which the superior discipline of the knights was of but little avail, and the detachment was practically annihilated. The count of Artois, Longspee, and a large number of knights were killed, whilst the Master of the Hospital, Chateauneuf, fell prisoner into the hands of the Saracens.

Louis beheld with the most lively grief and indignation this disastrous issue to a combat commenced under such glorious auspices. Crossing the ford with the remainder of his army he lost no time in advancing to the rescue. Here he was met by the Saracens, led on by Bendocdar, now completely rallied from their panic, flushed with their subsequent success, and burning to wipe out the remembrance of their ignominious flight. The fight was long and obstinate, and closed without any decided advantage to either side. Still, unquestionably the moral victory was with the Saracens, who reaped all the beneficial results of the day. Hemmed in on the ground which he occupied, Louis found himself cut off from all supplies on the side of Damietta by a Saracen force despatched for that purpose by Bendocdar, and it was not long before the army fell into a very similar predicament to that of John of Brienne. Pestilence broke out in the camp and decimated his troops. Unable to retreat as long as a Saracen force interposed between himself and Damietta, Louis in this strait meditated a sudden attack in that quarter, trusting that by taking the enemy unawares he and his enfeebled army might be enabled to cut their way through. Before he could carry this intention into effect, he was himself attacked in his intrenchments by the whole Turkish army. Wasted with disease and enfeebled by starvation his troops could offer but a very feeble resistance, nor was all the chivalric daring which on that day distinguished his own conduct able to avert the catastrophe. Disdaining to seek safety in flight at the cost of abandoning his followers, he maintained the struggle to the last, until he eventually fell a prisoner into the hands of Bendocdar, in company with his brothers, the counts of Anjou and Poictiers.

That chief behaved towards his illustrious captives with a magnanimity and generosity rare in the annals of Moslem warfare; indeed, he treated them with the utmost consideration and respect. A treaty of peace was at once set on foot, the terms of which were not likely to require much discussion when one of the negotiating parties found himself in such a helpless position. As a ransom for himself and his army, Louis covenanted to pay the sum of 800,000 bezants, and to restore to the Saracens possession of Damietta. In order to assist in providing the necessary amount, the Hospitallers freely placed their treasury at the king’s disposal. The Templars, however, were not so complaisant, and urged that the rules of their Order forbade any such appropriation of their funds. Necessity, however, knows no law, and the king felt that the crisis was of too grave and imminent a character to admit of any delicacy on his part. He lost no time, therefore, in laying forcible hands on their treasury, by the aid of which he completed the sum demanded for his liberation. As soon as the terms of the treaty had been complied with on both sides, Louis and the relics of his army returned to Acre, utterly unable to attempt anything further for the good cause. Here he lingered for four years, principally owing to the entreaties of the military Orders, who considered his presence a great safeguard for the precarious remnant of the kingdom, but also partly because of his unwillingness to return to France whilst the disgrace of his reverse was still fresh in public memory.

During his residence at Acre Louis received a message from the chief of the Hassassins, demanding the payment of blackmail as a protection against assassination, and averring that all the other Christian monarchs who had warred in the East had subscribed to the custom, and purchased safety by payment of the toll. This tribe dwelt in the mountainous country contiguous to Tripoli. They were a numerous and fanatical body of men, whose chief was known by the name of the Old Man of the Mountain. They were regarded with terror throughout the East owing to the peculiarity of their tenets. Their religion, if religion it can be called, consisted in a blind obedience to the will of their ruler, even when it led to certain death. Assassination was held by them to be a cardinal virtue, and was blindly carried out whenever ordered by their chief. The monarch on his throne, in the midst of his court, and surrounded by the most faithful guard, was not secure from the dagger of one df the Hassassins, who, being utterly regardless of his own life, rarely failed to accomplish his mission. The dread in which the tribe was held prompted all the Mahometan leaders of the East to cultivate friendly relations with them, and they were in the receipt of subsidies in the form of tribute from nations far more powerful in point of numbers than themselves. Their name was derived from the Persian word Hassasin, signifying a dagger, which was the only weapon worn by them, and the one with which they invariably carried out the behests of their chief.

It is recorded that on one occasion the sultan of Damascus despatched an envoy to the Old Man of the Mountain demanding the payment of an annual tribute under threat of invasion. That potentate, in order to show the envoy the extent of his power over his subjects, directed one of them to cast himself headlong from the top of a tower, and another to plunge a dagger into his heart. Both commands were instantly obeyed. The prince then turning to the messenger informed him that he had. 60,000 subjects, every one of whom would perform his will with the same blind obedience. Nothing more was heard of the sultan’s demand for tribute.

The only rulers in the East who had steadily resisted the demand for blackmail on the part of the Hassassins, were the Masters of the Hospital and Temple. They had, at an early date, warned the Old Man that on the occasion of the first assassination the tribe should be at once exterminated, and it was well known that the threat was not an idle one. Chateauneuf, therefore, no sooner heard of the audacious demand on Louis, than he instantly dismissed the embassy with the notification that unless ample reparation were at once tendered for the insult, the tribe might rest assured they would receive a visit from the whole force of the Order, for the purpose of inflicting summary chastisement. Within the stipulated time the envoys returned with the required amende; a ring and a shirt being tendered to Louis, the first signifying that he should be encircled by the protection of the tribe, and the second that they would cling to him with attachment.

Louis left the Holy Land in 1254, and the next few years were spent by the military Orders in securing themselves within those posts which they still retained. During this lull in the political storm, the quarrels which had so often arisen between them, but which the urgency of their mutual peril had temporarily quelled, once again broke forth. Beginning in single combats or in struggles of small parties, the ifi-feeling grew gradually so rancorous that eventually they rarely met without bloodshed, and not contented with isolated encounters it was not unusual for the warfare to be carried on by considerable numbers on either side. The mutual exasperation at last became so envenomed, that in the year 1259, the whole force of the respective Orders met in a general engagement. Victory favoured the side of the Hospitailers, and the slaughter was such that scarce a Templar was left to survive the fatal day. It was long ere that fraternity rallied from the blow, and by the time that their ranks had been sufficiently recruited to enable them to show front against their rivals, the breaking out of renewed hostilities against the common enemy overcame the bitterness of civil discord. It was during this, the last year of Chateauneuf’s rule, that the Pope issued a bull decreeing a distinctive dress for the knight of justice. This bull is dated in August, 1259. ^[1]

Shortly after the sanguinary contest above referred to, William do Chateauneuf died in the month of October, 1259, and Hugh de Revel was elected to succeed him. This knight, the nineteenth Master of the Order, was the first who received from Pope Clement II. the title of Grand-Master. The bull conveying this dignity was dated on the 18th November, 1267. The chiefs of the Temple had, from their first foundation, taken the rank of Grand-Master, whilst those of the Hospital had, until this date, contented themselves with the simpler appellation of Master.

Under the auspices of Hugh do Revel some vital changes were made in the organization of the European possessions of the Hospital. The various preceptories had hitherto been in the habit of remitting the surplus of their revenues, after deducting the cost of their own subsistence, to the general treasury at head-quarters in the East. In many cases, however, sometimes owing to the extravagance or mismanagement of the administrators, and sometimes from causes over which they had no control, the customary balance was not forthcoming. As, however, it was absolutely necessary that a positive and considerable sum should be relied on with certainty to support the heavy expenditure of constant warfare, it was decided, in a general council held at Casarea, that a definite payment should be demanded from each preceptory, based on the average receipts of a term of years, which sum they should be bound to remit to the general treasury under all circumstances, the balance of their respective revenues being retained for their own local expenses. This annual payment, which formed a species of rent-charge, was called a responsion, and was usually fixed at one-third of the gross receipts. The commission which was sent to each preceptor to announce the changes thus proposed to be introduced began with the word commandamus, whence arose the word commander, by which title the preceptor eventually became known. Priories were at the same time established, formed of the union of several preceptories. At the head of these were placed dignitaries with the title of prior, or, as they were afterwards termed, grand-prior. The prior held supreme control over the preceptories which constituted his priory, and ho was charged with the duty of collecting and remitting their several responsions. He was also called on to maintain strict discipline, and to act as a check upon the extravagance or other mal-praetiees of the preceptors. He was instructed to make constant visits, so as to ascertain by personal observation that due economy and discipline were practised.

Whilst thus organizing improvements in the internal economy of his order, Hugh de Revel was at the same time making the most strenuous efforts to maintain a bold front against the perpetual aggressions of the relentless enemy. These efforts were not, however, very successful. His means of defence were so limited, and the power against which he was called on to contend was growing gradually so overwhelming, that almost each year witnessed some new calamity. In the year 1263 the sultan succeeded in obtaining possession of the fortress of Azotus. Ninety knights of the Hospital had been placed by Revel at this post in order to lead the garrison and conduct the defence. One by one these brave men fell beneath the scimitar of the enemy, and it was not until the last of their number had succumbed that Bendocdar was able to force his way into the town. The heroic and obstinate defence of Azotus adds yet another name to that long list enrolled in history to the honour of the Order. Never had the spirit of devotion which they displayed in the sacred cause of their adoption shone with brighter lustre than during this glorious though fatal struggle.

In the succeeding year the Templars were in their turn forced to surrender the fortress of Saphoura, and these losses were soon followed by others of still greater import. Antioch, Laod.icea, and Karac passed for ever from the Christians, and Acre itself was only saved for a short time by the report of anticipated succour from the king of Cyprus, which induced Bendoedar, in dread of another Crusade, to retrace his steps.

The second Crusade of Louis, in which he met his death from the pestilence which annihilated his army, brought no relief to the suffering Latins of Syria. Its course had been diverted into Africa, and there, amidst the fever-breeding swamps of Tunis, it melted away. The efforts made in the year 1271 by Prince Edward of England, though conducted with energy, were equally fruitless, owing to the insufficiency of the force of which he was the leader. Having narrowly escaped death from the dagger of one of the band of Hassassins,^[2] that prince returned to Europe, leaving the prospects of the Christians in Syria utterly hopeless. He had, however, succeeded more through the terror of his name and lineage than from any other cause (the reputation of his ancestor, Richard Cœur do Lion, being still a household word throughout the Saracen provinces of the East), in obtaining a truce for ten years, during which time a short breathing space was permitted to the harassed and dispirited Latius. During this peaceful lull Hugh do Revel died, in the year 1278, and Nicholas de Lorgue was intrusted with the baton of Grand-Master in his stead.

The death of Bendocdar in the year 1281 brought the treaty which he had made with Prince Edward to a premature close, and the military Orders were once more aroused from their brief repose. The commencement of the new war was signalized by some important successes on the part of the Christians. One of the Saracen commanders, whilst on a plundering expedition, unwarily led his forces within reach of the fortress of Margat, still an important stronghold of the Hospitallers. The garrison sallied boldly forth, and charging down on the enemy whilst they were encumbered with pillage and in a state of disorder, easily routed them and annihilated the whole body.

The sultan was so enraged at this disaster, that in the following year he despatched a force of 5,000 men for the siege and capture of Margat. Undismayed at the numbers of their opponents, the Hospitallers, feeling that they were too few to meet the enemy in open combat, determined to have recourse to stratagem. In furtherance of this object they posted a portion of their force in ambush outside the gates of the city, whilst the remainder advanced towards the enemy as though determined to give battle. After a brief struggle, and before they had become too much entangled in the fight, they pretended to yield, and fled towards the town as though struck with a sudden panic. Whilst thus hastily retiring, they took care to preserve their ranks with a precision that should have led the enemy to suspect a wile. Heedless of the warning, the Moslems, hurried away by the ardour of pursuit, dashed after the retiring foe with all the disorder of a rapid advance, and with the confidence of a victory already gained. They were, however, soon destined to discover that their anticipations were not to be so easily realized. Once drawn into the defile where the ambuscade was placed, the flying Hospitallers halted in their course and turned fiercely on their pursuers, and whilst the Saracens were preparing to re-form themselves into some semblance of order to receive this unlooked-for attack, they were dismayed by hearing the tumult of strife suddenly arise in their rear and on both flanks. Thrown into the wildest and most hopeless confusion by this sudden appearance of enemies on every side, little or no resistance was offered; the struggle became a massacre, and the battle-field was strewn with the corpses of the slain, a very slender remnant of the whole force surviving to carry to the sultan of Egypt the news of this fresh and still more serious disaster to his arms.

Aroused to a pitch of frenzy by the double defeat which he had sustained at the hands of the Order of St. John, the sultan vowed a deep and bitter revenge against the Christians. From this purpose he never swerved, although for some years the internal disturbances of his kingdom were so numerous as to prevent his being able to accomplish the design. At length, taking advantage of an interval of repose, he advanced in person against Margat at the head of a formidable army in the year 1287. Fore-warned of his intention, de Lorgue had thrown a strong reinforcement into the fortress, the garrison of which calmly awaited the attack. The sultan, on arriving in front of the walls, commenced the siege in due form; the place was invested, trenches were dug, battering rams, towers, and other military engines constructed, and all the usual routine strictly adhered to. On the part of the defenders every possible impediment was thrown in the way of the assailants, and their constant and energetic sorties created so many obstructions to the advance that the sultan seemed to gain little or no advantage.

During the time this open warfare was being carried on so much apparently in favour of the besieged, a secret and insidious advance was in progress, by which their speedy downfall was to be compassed. The visible attack had been a mere blind on the part of the sultan, who, whilst thus diverting the attention of the defenders, was quietly making his approaches below ground. In this manner he stealthily advanced, until he had at length succeeded in undermining the ramparts in every direction, temporarily supporting the walls with huge beams of wood. Raving completely accomplished his purpose, he summoned the garrison to surrender; a message which was received with scorn by men who were buoying themselves up with the idea that they bad foiled his worst attempts. What was their dismay and consternation on being informed that the walls behind which they deemed themselves so secure awaited but a signal to crumble beneath their feet. Two of their number were permitted to enter the enemy’s lines in order to assure themselves of the correctness of the statement. These having received ocular demonstration of the fact, it was felt that further resistance was hopeless, and the town was given up to the sultan, the garrison being permitted to retire unmolested to Acre. Immediately on obtaining possession of this fortress, which had for so many years held them at defiance, the Saracens levelled its defences to the ground, and thus prevented its re-occupation by the Christians.

The last sad scene of the bloody drama was now rapidly approaching. Place after place fell into the hands of the victorious sultan, until at length, throughout the land, the banner of the Cross waved no-where save on the ramparts of Acre. Nicholas de Lorgue was not, however, destined to witness the denouement of the tragedy. Having visited the Holy See for the. purpose of making a. personal appeal to the Pope on behalf of the waning church in Syria, and having utterly failed in the attempt—for in truth Europe was weary of sending her best soldiers and her hardly-earned treasures to be fruitlessly expended on the burning sands of Palestine—he returned in despair to Acre, where he died in the year 1289.

John de Villiers, a French knight, was elected in his place. He was a man whose mind was calm and far-seeing in the midst of danger, and the intrepidity of whose character was beyond the shadow of a doubt. It was to such a one that the fraternity felt they could best confide their fortunes in the perilous and desperate situation in which they were then placed. No dissentient voice was therefore raised against the nomination, which was in truth advancement to a post rather of peril and honour than of personal advantage.

After the capture of Jerusalem by Saladin, the city of Acre had become the metropolis of Christianity in the East. Its favourable situation on the sea coast rendered it the mart of the vast commerce which annually flowed both eastward and westward in the mutual exchange of the treasures of Europe and Asia. Its fortifications consisted of a double enceinte of rampart, by which the city was entirely surrounded on the land side; numerous flanking towers in close proximity to each other effectually strengthened its walls, which were so broad and solid that two chariots could pass abreast on their summit. These defences had been developed by the accumulated additions of agss, all the most celebrated of the crusaders who had resided within the city having added something to the fortress. St. Louis of Prance, in particular, had incurred a very large outlay in his zeal to strengthen, as far as possible, this important stronghold, the last which the Christians possessed in the Holy Land.

The grandeur of the town itself has been a fertile subject for the descriptive talents of contemporary historians. The streets, unlike those usually to be met with in the East, were wide and regular, the squares spacious, the public buildings imposing and grand, whilst the houses, which were built either of marble or of the finest cut stone, were constructed of equal height and with flat roofs, so that it was easy to pass from one end to the other without descending into the streets. They boasted, in every quarter of the town, of the luxury of glass windows, at that time still far from common in Europe, and they possessed the yet greater refinement of stained glass in the highest perfection; indeed, in this art they were far in advance of the nations of the West. Tradition revels in the picture which it draws of the splendour of all connected with this magnificent city. Silken canopies and awnings are said to have been stretched from side to side of the principal streets for protection from the mid-day heat, shedding a rich and subdued light on all around. The wealth of the world seems to have concentrated itself on this highly-favoured spot, and to have drawn thither, in consequence, the representatives of almost every nation under the sun.

Such a congregation of varied races, and such a constant stream of wealth flowing through its midst, naturally engendered a vicious mode of life, and we find the city in these, its last days of Christian dominion, a scene of reckless turbulence and unbridled debauchery. Drunkenness, prostitution, and other vices more Eastern in their character, and too odious to be particularized, stalked rampant through its streets, and the gaily-dressed and painted harlot of Acre was notorious throughout the neighbouring districts. It was thronged by the people of no less than seventeen countries, speaking different languages, and governed by different laws. Each race occupied a separate and distinct portion of the town, having no community of interests with one another, and rendering allegiance to no supreme head. Every species of vice and wickedness consequently flourished unchecked, and the general demoralization was such that the city had gradually become a perfect sink of iniquity.

Many acts of wanton outrage having been committed on the Moslems of the neighbourhood through the brigandage of some of its heterogeneous inhabitants, the sultan, Mansour, who was only waiting for a plausible excuse to complete the expulsion of the Christians from Syria, demanded instant reparation for these wrongs. The Grand-Masters of the military Orders both urged a prompt compliance with this request. It was, indeed, not only perfectly reasonable in itself, but also at the same time backed by the whole power of Egypt—a power which recent events had taught them they were utterly unable to resist. The advice was, however, rejected with scorn; prudent counsels were stigmatized as cowardice; an answer of defiance was returned, and crc long the inhabitants of Acre learned with dismay that the whole strength of the Egyptian empire was on its road to crush this, the last stronghold of Christianity.

Mansour did not live to carry out the enterprise himself, having been poisoned by one of his generals whilst on the march to Acre. His son Khaled, however, stimulated by the last words of his father, who had directed that his body should not receive the rites of sepulture till after the capture of the city, determined to carry out the enterprise. He pushed forward his troops without delay, and ere long appeared before the walls with an army which the Arabian historians have computed at 160,000 foot and 60,000 horse. Undismayed by this enormous force, the military Orders, at the first sound of the infidel atabal, prepared to defend themselves to the uttermost; failing in which they were ready to follow the example of so many of their brethren, and perish in the effort. As the undisputed sovereignty of the seas was still theirs, they at once removed from the city and embarked for Cyprus the whole of the noncombatant portion of the inhabitants, leaving as a garrison a strength of some 12,000 men, in addition to those who were serving under the banners of the Hospital and Temple. Henry II., king of Cyprus, in whose person rested at this time the sovereignty of Jerusalem, on learning the straits to which this solitary remnant of his kingdom was reduced, landed at Acre with a reinforcement of 200 knights and 500 men-at-arms. This was the sole auxiliary force upon which the garrison was enabled to rely in its resistance against the almost countless swarms by whom it was beleaguered. It was not a moment for ceremony in the choice of a leader. The claims of the king, whose reputation as a soldier was, to say the least, of a very doubtful character, were overlooked in favour of one whose experience in arms and military renown were of a far higher stamp, and William de Beaujeu, Grand-Master of the Temple, was unanimously selected for the onerous post. One of his first acts was to reject, with scornful indignation, the very munificent offers which were made to him by Khaled to tempt him to surrender the town. This magnanimity secured for him the perfect confidence of the garrison, who felt that whatever perils they might be called on to undergo from the scimitar of the foe, they had nothing to dread from treachery at home.

The siege was pushed forward by the infidels with the greatest vigour, and the defence of the Christians was equally obstinate. Closer and closer were drawn the hostile trenches, and day after day saw their battalions encircling the city with a tighter grasp. The effusion of blood which marked the progress of the contest was fearful. Numerous sorties were made by the defenders, led on by the heroic Beaujeu, in which prodigies of valour were displayed, and the desperation with which they fought was marked by the piles of Saracen dead that lay strewn along the plain in the track of the Latin squadrons. In such an army, however, as that which fought under the banner of Khaled, the slaughter of a few thousands, more or less, could have but little effect in checking his onset or averting his fell purpose. Ste&lily he pushed his approaches forward, stop by step, until at length he was in a position to bring his battering rams into active play, whilst at the same time his miners were busily employed in burrowing beneath the towers by which the ramparts were flanked. Successive crashes marked the downfall of one bulwark after another, yet still they struggled on with the most indomitable perseverance, and with a courage the heroism of which had in it something sublime.

At last the Cursed Tower, one of the most important points in the defence of the fortress, shared the common fate, and opened a breach in the most vulnerable part of the ramparts. Henry of Cyprus, with his auxiliaries, had been stationed at this point, and he gallantly maintained the breach against every effort of the Moslem until night intervened to put a temporary stop to the strife. Then, however, perceiving that a renewal of the combat in the morning would place him in a desperate situation, and in all probability lead to his capture, if not death, he determined to abandon the defence and regain his ships. Desirous of concealing the step he was about to take, he alleged that the struggle of the day rendered a period of repose imperafive to his force, and handed his post over to some Teutonic knights who were taking part in the siege, promising faithfully to relieve them in the morning. Instead of doing this he hurried with the remainder of his troops on board the fleet, which lay at anchor in the harbour, and under cover of the night set sail for Cyprus, abandoning the heroic remnant of the garrison to their fate.

The next morning at daybreak the Saracens renewed the assault with greater determination than ever, but the Teutonic knights, who retained the post basely abandoned by Henry of Cyprus, presented an impassable barrier of steel to their onset. Throughout the day the combat raged fiercely around the deadly breach, until at length, towards evening, overborne by numbers and exhausted by their long protracted defence, the Germans gave way, and the enemy, with loud shouts of exultation, poured into the place. At this critical moment, when all appeared lost, Villiers, whose enthusiastic zeal always led him where the fight was thickest, comprehending at a glance the peril of the situation, directed his marshal to rush with the Hospitallers to the rescue. On they poured like a wave of steel, hurling itself with irresistible force against the advancing Moslems, who were streaming through the now defenceless breach. Never was the white cross of the Order displayed in deadlier fray; long and obstinate was the struggle, the one party striving to retain the advantage they had gained, the other equally eager to drive the foe back beyond the walls. At length the impetuous valour of the knights overcame every obstacle, and the Saracen, still struggling to the last, was once again hurled backward over the breach, and forced to retire discomfited to his intrenchments.

This was the last transient gleam of success that illumined the Christian cause. Innumerable fresh battalions were still at the command of Khaled, and these were poured in constant succession by their determined chief against the enfeebled and exhausted defenders of the town. Thrice on the following day was the city taken and as often regained by its dauntless garrison, yet the loss on each occasion was such as could ifi be afforded, and it became more and more apparent that the place was doomed. Though each knightly warrior stood undismayed at his post, and trod the rampart firm in his resolve that the Moslem should cross it only over his lifeless body, it was evidently the energy of desperation, not that of hope. Beaujeu and the other leaders had no thought of surrender; still they felt that nothing short of a miracle could save them from destruction. What man could do to avert the blow they had done, and now there seemed to remain to them but one last duty, and that was to seal their devotion with their blood.

At length the fatal morning dawned, the sun of which was to set upon the complete expulsion of the Latins from Syria. Early in the day the marshal of the Hospitallers, whose noble daring had more than once been the means of rescuing the city from impending capture, fell at the head of his knights whilst defending a breach which had been made practicable in the ramparts near the gate of St. Anthony. Dismayed at the loss of this gallant knight, Beaujeu turned to Villiers and requested him, as a last resource, to attempt a diversion by sallying out of the town and attacking the enemy’s camp. He trusted in this manner to obtain a little respite, during which he might in some manner repair the ruin. There is no doubt that this order on his part was the means of saving the lives of Villiers and those knights who accompanied him. At the moment, the service seemed one leading to certain death, and in that way it was regarded by those who nevertheless willingly undertook its performance. Hastily assembling a troop of white cross knights, and pointing out to them that the moment had arrived to sacrifice themselves for their religion, he sallied forth by a side gate, and made a circuit so as if possible to fall upon the flank of the enemy unperceived. Khaled was, however, too wary a general to allow himself to be thus taken by surprise. Villiera found, on arrival at the intended point, that a strong force of cavalry was drawn up to receive him. All efforts to penetrate the serried mass in his front proved unavailing, and eventually he was driven back with the slender relics of his force, and compelled to try and re-enter the town. Meanwhile, the breach of St. Anthony had been carried, Beaujeu had been slain, and the town had fallen into the possession of the enemy.

All was therefore lost, and nothing left but to endeavour to rescue such of his knights as had hitherto escaped the scimitar of the foe from the massacre, which was even now flooding the streets with blood. Retreating warily, he formed a rallying point for all those able to join him, and gradually reached the shore. Here he succeeded in embarking them on board the galleys which were lying at anchor in the roadstead. This was a very difficult operation, and was not carried out without severe loss. The enemy was held in check by the archers who, posted on the vessels’ decks, kept up an incessant discharge of arrows upon the advancing squadrons. Under cover of these missiles the embarkation was at length completed, and thus the sad and slender relics of that proud fraternity, which had during so many years raised the white cross as a barrier impassable to the Moslem, were compelled to abandon the sacred soil of their adoption.

Broken in spirit, and overpowered by an adverse destiny, they now, after two centuries of incessant warfare, found themselves floating on the seas, a body of homeless wanderers, without an aim in view or a purpose to accomplish. Sad fate was this for men who, in their own persons and in those of their predecessors, had done so much for their faith, and had gained such imperishable renown—a renown which the disastrous struggle now brought to such a fatal issue had done much to increase. Amidst the despairing shrieks of the captive inhabitants, and the ferocious shouts of exultation from the victorious Moslem, which were borne on the wings of the wind, they bade adieu to the land they had loved so well, and turning the prows of their galleys westward, they reluctantly wended their sorrowful way towards the island of Cyprus.

1. Vide Appendix No. 6.
2. Immediately after the receipt of his wound, and whilst the result threatened to be fatal, Edward made his will. It was dated at Acre, June 18th, 1272, and the subscribing witnesses were Hugh de Revel, Grand- Master of the Hospital, and Thomas Berard, Grand-Master of the Temple:—” En testiinoniaunce de Ia queu chose a ceo testament avons fet rnettre nostre sel et avons pries les honurables Bers frere Hue Mestre de I’Hospital et frere Thomas Berard Mestre du Temple ke a cest escrit meisent ansi lursens.”—Acta Rymeri, tom. i., ad ann. 1272.