The Battle on the Litani has not received much
attention in the history of the crusader states. It is often completely ignored
or acknowledged with no more than a passing mention. While it is true that this
battle was only one in a series of indecisive engagements between Salah ad-Din
and the forces of the Kingdom of Jerusalem in the decade before the disaster at
Hattin in July 1187, it was a sad precursor of things to come and is not
entirely uninteresting.
The battle was allegedly provoked by Saracen “raiding,”
of cattle and crops in the lordships of Beirut and Sidon. However, it seems
highly unlikely that the King of Jerusalem would personally respond to mere
raiding, particularly if it was conducted by Bedouins as some accounts suggest.
Certainly, accounts of the engagement make clear that both Farukh Shah, a
nephew of Salah ad-Din, and the Sultan himself were on hand with large cavalry,
but notably no infantry, forces. This smells far more like a “reconnaissance in
force” similar to the raid of 1187 that led to the disaster at the Springs of
Cresson.
In any case, King Baldwin IV, now aged 18, responded by
mustering a powerful cavalry force of his own. This included not only his most
important baron, Raymond, Count of Tripoli, as well as Baldwin, Lord of Ramla
and Mirabel, but also the Templars under their Grand Master, Odo de St. Amand.
As W. B. Bartlett astutely points out in his Downfall of the Crusader Kingdom, this composition of forces
underlines the fact that the Kingdom was not divided at this time; the Templars
and Tripoli fought together without suspicion or recriminations.
While the exact sequence of events is not clear, it
appears that the King and his forces succeeded in surprising and routing the forces
of Farukh Shah. They drove the bulk of his cavalry back across the Litani and may
have temporarily taken Farukh Shah himself captive. Meanwhile, however, the Templars had separately
encountered the larger, main force under Sultan Salah ad-Din. William of Tyre,
who was not in the Kingdom at the time and based his account on reports of
others, blamed the Templars for attacking this larger force injudiciously. While that is possible, it should also be
remembered that Tyre was a consistent critic of the Templars and inclined to
think poorly of them regardless, while other participants may have been only
too ready to pin the blame on someone other than themselves.
What is clear is that the Templars broke and fled back
toward the main feudal army around the King. At this point in time, however,
the feudal army was already scattered across the valley floor “mopping up”
after their successful action against Farukh Shah. They were in no position to
form a cohesive force. Salah ad-Din’s cavalry, hot on the heels of the
Templars, fell upon the dispersed Christian forces, killing and capturing large
numbers of Christian knights and nobles, including Baldwin, Baron of Ramla and
Mirabel, Hugh of Tiberius, and, according to Arab sources, some 270 knights and
nobles altogether.
The King’s household, however, rallied around him and
extricated him from the field with help and reinforcements from Reginald of
Sidon. This was, of course, vital, as his capture would have had even more
serious consequences than the other losses incurred. But his escape is notable for
another reason as well: Baldwin was unhorsed during the — evidently heated — engagement,
but his leprosy had by this stage advanced so far that he no longer had the use
of his hand and arms and was unable to remount. The King had to be carried off
the field on the back of a Frankish knight.
Just two months earlier, in another skirmish with
Saracen cavalry, King Baldwin’s horse had bolted and, without the use of his
hands, he had been unable to regain control. Now, because he was unable to
remount when thrown, he had come within a hair’s breadth of capture. The
eighteen-year-old king, who just two years earlier had led his chivalry to a
stunning victory over Salah ad-Din at Montgisard, was now forced to face the
fact that he could no longer command his armies from horseback. In a society in
which the mounted warrior, the knight, was the incarnation of manly virtue and
prowess, it must have broken Baldwin’s heart. Not that he surrendered to his disability
entirely: in the future he would lead his armies from a litter.
Meanwhile, the sorry outcome of this obscure engagement
had two additional detrimental consequences for the Kingdom of Jerusalem. First, among the captives was the Templar
Grand Master, Odo St. Amand. Whether he was to blame for an unnecessary defeat,
as William of Tyre suggests, or not, he had the courage and honor (as his
successor Gerard de Rideford did not ) to refuse ransom in accordance with the Templar
Rule. He died miserably in a Saracen dungeon — thereby paving the way,
indirectly, for the election of the disastrous and unscrupulous Gerard de
Rideford.
Equally wide-reaching in its effect was the capture of
Baldwin, Baron of Ramla and Mirabel. Baldwin (often referred to as Baldwin of
Ibelin because he was the son of the First Baron of Ibelin and older brother of
Balian d’Ibelin, the founder of the Ibelin dynasty) was considered such a
valuable prisoner that Salah ad-Din set his ransom higher than the ransom once
asked for King Baldwin II of Jerusalem; in short, the Saracen Sultan demanded “a
king’s ransom” for a baron whose feudal holding were only two thirds of that of
the upper tier of barons (Tripoli, Caesarea, Sidon, Galilee, Jaffa-Ascalon). This is not logical — unless the Sultan had
some reason to believe that Ramla was destined to become a king. According to
the chronicler Ernoul, who had close ties to the Ibelin family and so can be
considered an “insider” — albeit a biased insider, Princess Sibylla of
Jerusalem had at this time promised to marry Ramla. Such a marriage would have
made Ramla the effective heir to the throne, and Salah ad-Din would have had
every reason to both demand the high ransom and hope that the cost of paying it
would discredit Ramla to his future subjects. Curiously, the ransom was paid not
by the treasury of Jerusalem but by the Byzantine Emperor instead, suggesting
that the latter too had reason to expect Ramla would become King of Jerusalem. Both
Salah ad-Din and Emperor Manuel I appear to have been misinformed. That, or —
as Ernoul suggests — Princess Sibylla changed her mind after Ramla was captured.
In the latter case, Ramla’s capture can be seen as a contributing
factor in Sibylla transferring her affections to the young, recently arrived
French adventurer Guy de Lusignan. The consequences of her infatuation and
life-long love for Lusignan are the subject of another entry.
The Battle
on the Litani is described in detail in Book II of my three-part biographical
novel of Balian d’Ibelin:
A divided kingdom,
a united enemy,
and the struggle for Jerusalem.
For want of a nail . . .
ReplyDeleteIt's always the small things that cause the biggest ripples.