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Friday, July 25, 2025

The Templars and the Battle of Montgisard

The dramatic Christian victory at Montgisard has been largely forgotten because the subsequent Saracen victory at Hattin negated its impact. Nevertheless, it is a dramatic story worth retelling.


A modern portrayal of the Battle of Montgisard by Mariusz Kozik

In in 1177, Salah-ad-Din (known in the West as Saladin) launched the first of what were to be several full-scale invasions of the Christian Kingdom of Jerusalem. At this time Saladin had effectively united the Caliphates of Cairo and Baghdad for the first time in 200 years, but his hold on power was still precarious. In Egypt his faced suspicion and opposition because he was Sunni, and in Syria he was viewed as a usurper and upstart because he was a Kurd and had stolen the Sultanate from the rightful heir.

A Contemporary Depiction of Salah-ad-Din from an Islamic Manuscript

Saladin countered these internal doubts and dissatisfaction with the age-old device of focusing attention on an external enemy: the Christian states established by the crusaders along the eastern shore of the Mediterranean. These states represented a clear and serious military threat to his lines of communication between Egypt and Syria.  But Saladin did not simply beat the drum of alarm concerning an external enemy in order to rally his subjects around him; he also took up the cry of “jihad” — Holy War. This was a obvious attempt to increase his stature vis-a-vis his remaining rivals in Syria. Salah-ad-Din means “righteousness of the faith,” and throughout his career Salah-ad-Din used campaigns against the Christian states as a means of rallying support.

Another depiction of Saladin; Source Unknown

Meanwhile, in the Kingdom of Jerusalem, King Amalaric, who had been led five expeditions into Egypt, had died.  He had been succeeded by Baldwin IV, a youth suffering from leprosy. Conscious of his own weakness and immanent death, Baldwin IV sent to the West for aid, and in early August 1177, Count Philip of Flanders reached Acre with a large force of Western knights.

On the advice of the High Court, Baldwin IV offered Philip of Flanders the regency of his kingdom, whose armies were preparing yet another invasion of Egypt aided by a large Byzantine fleet. Flanders, however, insisted on being made king of any territories the joint Christian forces conquered. The idea did not sit well with either the King of Jerusalem or the Emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire, both of whom were footing the bill and providing the bulk of the troops for the expedition. The result was that the entire expedition was called off, the Byzantine fleet withdrew and Philip of Flanders took his knights and half the barons of Jerusalem north to attack the Seljuk strongholds of Hama and Harim instead.

A Medieval depiction of a Crusading Host

Salah ad-Din had gathered his forces in Egypt to repel the impending attack. He rapidly learned that not only had the invasion of Egypt been called off, the Byzantine fleet had withdrawn and the bulk of the fighting forces of Jerusalem had moved north. It was a splendid opportunity to strike, and the Sultan seized the opportunity, invading with a force estimated at 26,000 light horse — which leaves open the question of whether there were infantry with him or not. The force also allegedly included some 1,000 mameluks of the Sultan’s personal body guard.

Salah ad-Din's army crossed into Frankish territory from Egypt and significantly by-passed the Templar stronghold at Gaza. Presumably, Salah ad-Din considered it too tough a nut to crack. Laying siege to a Templar fortress would, he calculated, cost far too much time and too many lives. Salah ad-Din (as throughout his career) preferred "soft targets.

Significantly, the Templars let the Saracen army pass without offering any resistance. The Templars were said to have gathered a large fighting force at Gaza, thinking this would be the target of the invasion. (Howarth, p. 132; Robinson, p. 131.)  Furthermore, the Master of the Temple had taken personal command at Gaza in anticipation of this confrontation.  The new Master was Odo de Saint Amand. He was a man William of Tyre (who knew him personally) described as "dictated by the spirit of pride, of which he had an excess." (Barber, p. 109.) Two years later, Saint Amand would be responsible for a Templar charge that very nearly cost the Kingdom of Jerusalem their king, and landed him in a Saracen prison. So it is unlikely that the Templars failed to respond to Salah ad-Din's invasion out of indifference or fear. Furthermore, as my essay on the Siege of Ascalon highlighted, the Templars were capable of impetuous acts in which they took on forces much larger than their own. The most likely explanation is that despite an ethos that viewed numbers as irrelevant in the face of faith, the size of the invading army was simply too daunting for the roughly 300 knights collected at Gaza.

An Example of a Crusader Stronghold -- here Margat, a Hospitaller Castle
 
Meanwhile, according to an anonymous Christian chronicler from northern Syria, the news of Saladin’s invasion plunged Jerusalem into despair. The king was just 16 years old, had no battle experience of his own. His most experienced commanders (or many of them) were besieging Hama. The Constable of the Kingdom, the competent and wise Humphrey de Toron II, was gravely ill. Nevertheless, Baldwin rallied his forces and with just 376 knights made a dash to Ascalon, the southern-most stronghold of his kingdom.

Baldwin and his improvised force of secular knights arrived in Ascalon only shortly before Salah ad-Din with his whole army on November 22.  King Baldwin took control of the city, but then hesitated to risk open battle with the Saracens because of the imbalance of forces.  Thus, while King Baldwin's dash to Ascalon had been heroic, it had been rash as well. Salah ad-Din was now in a position to keep the King and his knights bottled up inside Ascalon with only a fraction of his forces, while taking the rest of his army and striking at the now unprotected Jerusalem

This was exactly what Salah ad-Din did, and it might have resulted in the fall of Jerusalem had Salah ad-Din not made a major error. The Sultan and his emirs were so confident of victory that they took time to plunder the rich cities of the coastal plain, notably Ramla and Lydda, but also as far inland as Hebron. In Jerusalem, the terrified population sought refuge in the Citadel of David.

The Citadel of David as it appears today.
 
But Baldwin IV was not yet defeated. With the number of Saracen troops surrounding Ascalon dramatically reduced, he risked a sortie. He also somehow managed to get word to the Templars at Gaza of his plans and requested that they rendezvous with him

The Templars were not vassals of the King of Jerusalem and were not obliged to do as he asked. But Saint Amand did not hesitate to join the King.  He sortied out of Gaza with his entire mobile force of just 84 knights, plus an unknown number of sergeants and Turcopoles. 
 
Together this mounted force started to shadow Saladin’s now dispersed and no longer disciplined army. Frankish tactics, however, required a combination of cavalry and infantry, so King Baldwin could not engage the enemy until he had sufficient infantry as well. He issued the arrière ban, a general call to arms that obligated every Christian to rally to the royal standard in defense of the realm. Infantry started streaming to join him.

On the afternoon of November 25, King Baldwin’s host of about 450 knights (375 secular knights and 84 Templars from Gaza), with their squires, Turcopoles and infantry in unspecified numbers caught up with the main body of Saladin’s troops at a place near Montgisard or Tell Jazar, near Ibelin (modern day Yavne).  

The Sultan, as he later admitted to Saracen chroniclers, was caught off-guard. Before he could properly deploy his troops, the main force of Christian knights, probably led by the Baron of Ramla, in whose territory the battle took place, smashed into Saladin’s still disorganized troops, apparently while some were still crossing or watering their horses in a stream. Although Ramla and his younger brother, Balian d'Ibelin, distinguished themselves in fighting, the disciplined Templar knights were undoubtedly a key factor in victory.

Modern Depiction of Montgisard by Zvonimir (copyright Medieval World) with the the Templars and the Ibelins at the forefront of the Frankish cavalry.
 
Although the battle was hard fought and there were heavy Christian casualties, the Sultan’s forces were soon routed.  Not only that, Salah ad-Din himself came very close to being killed or captured and allegedly escaped on the back of a pack-camel. For the bulk of his army there was no escape. Those who were not slaughtered immediately on the field, found themselves scattered and virtually defenseless in enemy territory. Although they abandoned their plunder, it was still a long way home — and the rains had set in.  Cold, wet, slowed down by the mud, no longer benefiting from the strength of numbers, they were easy prey for the residents and settlers of the Kingdom of Jerusalem.  The latter, after the sack of Lydda, Ramla and other lesser places, had good reason to crave revenge. Furthermore, even after escaping Christian territory, the Sultan’s troops still found no refuge because once in the desert the Bedouins took advantage of the situation to enslave as many men as they could catch in order to enrich themselves. Very few men of the Sultan’s army made it home to safety in Egypt.

Saladin was badly shaken by this defeat. He had good reason to believe it would discredit him and initially feared it would trigger revolts against his rule. Later, he convinced himself that God had spared him for a purpose. Certainly he was to learn from his defeat. He never again allowed himself to be duped by his own over-confidence and his subsequent campaigns against the crusader states were marked by greater caution. It was not until the crushing defeat of the Frankish armies at Hattin in July 1187 — almost ten years later — that he had his revenge not just on the Frankish kingdom but specifically on the Knights Templar as well.

"The Tale of the English Templar" is a fictional work that depicts the destruction of the Knight's Templar. 

An escaped Templar, an old knight, and a discarded bride embark on a quest for justice in the face of tyranny. 

 
 
"St. Louis Knight" is a novel set against the backdrop of the Seventh Crusade and St. Louis' sojourn in the Holy  Land. A Templar novice and King Louis are the central characters. 
It is now available in audiobook as well as paperback and ebook.

 
 A crusader in search of faith --
A lame lady in search of revenge --
And a King who would be saint.

St. Louis' Knight takes you to the Holy Land in the 13th century, and a world filled with knights, nobles, prophets -- and assassins. 
(Available in Audiobook)
 
The Knights Templar were at the height of their popularity in the late 12th century and appear in my novels set in this period. 


 Buy now!                                                           Buy now!                                                            Buy Now!


Saturday, July 19, 2025

Leprosy in Crusader Times

King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem was a leper. This was so exceptional in the history of Western monarchies that he has gone down in history simply as “the Leper King.” Most people know nothing else about him, not even his Christian name.  Yet not only was he a king, he was an effective, respected and beloved king -- as I described last week. Today I want to look more closely at how it was possible for him to become king at all.

  
The Mask of Baldwin IV in the Hollywood Film "The Kingdom of Heaven"
 
Without doubt, leprosy is one of the most appalling diseases known to man. Victims of the disease suffer from symptoms including a loss of feeling in their affected limbs, a discoloring and hardening of the skin, disfiguring growths or nodules that deform the face, hands and legs, open ulcers, particularly on the soles of the feet, and, in its most virulent form, the disease can deform even the skeleton and skull, while progressively triggering a deterioration of control over one’s limbs, leading finally to the loss of toes, fingers, ears, noses, and eyesight. Because of this gradual decay of the body lepers were sometimes referred to the “living dead” or “walking corpses.”

Medieval carving showing a leper
 
Leprosy is a global phenomenon, present today on every continent.  While some scientists suggest it originated in East Africa (along with mankind and horses), the oldest anthropological evidence of the disease is a nearly 3,000 year old skeleton found in India. Certainly it was known in ancient Egypt, ancient Greece, ancient China, and is recorded in the Old Testiment as well.
 
In Western medical texts, Hippocrates described symptoms that match leprosy as early as 460 BC, but no cure was found for leprosy until the 20th century. Furthermore, modern medical research shows that as much as 30% of a population may become infected during an epidemic, yet once endemic, only 5% of any given population is likely to contract the disease. Yet that research was not available until the last century.
 
Throughout most of human history, the leprosy was believed to be not only incurable but also highly contagious.  At the extreme, some medical tracts (including Arab ones) suggested that just breathing the same air as lepers could result in infection. It was this terror of catching such a horrible and incurable disease that led many societies to ostracize lepers, notably the Jews and the Germanic tribes of northeastern Europe, both of which expelled lepers from their societies.
 
 
So how could a leper become a king? 
 
Because he lived in a Near Eastern, Christian monarch in the twelfth century. By this time Eastern Christianity had come to view leprosy not as a curse nor as an outward expression of sin nor a form of divine punishment nor even something unclean. Rather it viewed leprosy as a symbol of divine grace. 
 
According to the gospels, Christ cured a leper following the Sermon on the Mount, and in the gospel of Luke (16:19-31) a poor beggar “covered with soars” called Lazarus is scorned by a rich man but finds favor with God. In the Medieval tradition, this man was a leper and Lazarus became the patron saint of lepers. The significance of lepers in the New Testament is twofold. First, leprosy was at the time incurable, so that healing a leper could only be a miracle, a divine act, and Christ demonstrates his divinity by curing the leper. Second, and often overlooked today, lepers were outcasts in Jewish society, prohibited from entering the Temple, so in curing the leper Christ was extending his grace even to outcasts.


By the 4th century AD, Church leaders in both the East and the West had seized upon these biblical references to argue that the greatest Christian virtue was to demonstrate love and charity toward the outcasts of society — something best demonstrated by love for those most commonly rejected in heathen societies: lepers. Within a short space of time, the sufferings of Job were associated with leprosy, and leading theologians reminded the Christian community that each leper (no less than any other man) had been made in God’s image and been redeemed by Christ. 

The argument went farther: Disease humbled even the proudest and wealthiest, bringing them closer to God, and no disease did that more thoroughly than leprosy. Far from being a punishment for sin, therefore, leprosy was the ultimate test of righteousness. While the victims were, it was argued, already marked by God for salvation, those willing to show them Christian love and charity would also win the favor of God. Legends started to evolve in which Christ appeared on earth as a leper, and the disease started to be referred to as “the Holy Disease.”

A monk treats a child with leprosy; a sign of charity.
 
Furthermore, the lives of saints often highlight acts of charity or kindness toward lepers, including kissing them. Likewise, from this period onward, we can trace the development and spread of hospitals especially established for the care of lepers, particularly in the Byzantine Empire. They are recorded in Constantinople itself and all the way to Alexandria. Notably, there was an important leper hospital in Jerusalem as well.


The Leper Hospital at Jerusalem no longer exists; this is the Hospitaller HQ at Acre
 
The establishment of leper hospitals enabled the removal of lepers from homes, markets, and work-places and so to a degree isolated lepers from mainstream society. No matter what the Church preached about the Christ-like nature of loving lepers, most ordinary humans preferred not to undergo the ultimate test of holiness by suffering such a debilitating and humiliating disease! A degree of segregation was therefore both rational and understandable. However, these new establishments were not isolated and cut off from society, nor were they places of detention or  characterized by horrible living conditions. On the contrary, they were large complexes with their own churches, dormitories, kitchens, water reservoirs, orchards and land. People, whether the wealthy relatives of victims of the disease, or men and women anxious to gain credit in heaven were willing to endow leper hospitals or make charitable gifts to them in coin or kind.

Furthermore, leper hospitals were not prisons, in which lepers were incarcerated against their will. The lepers could come and go as they pleased, and if they remained it was because they benefited from the charity and care they received rather than from compulsion. Furthermore, the lepers in these hospitals largely governed their own affairs, electing their own officials, who they then obeyed as in the monastic tradition. Likewise, they had chapter meetings, like monks, and female lepers appear to have had the same rights as their male counterparts. In at least one case a woman is recorded as a “commander” of a leper hospital. 

A "Chapter House" where collective decisions would have been made.
 
Significantly, however, it was in Jerusalem that a leper hospital grew into a religious order in its own right, the Order of St. Lazarus. The leper hospital had been established during Byzantine rule of the Holy City but after the establishment of the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem, it was taken over by the Knights Hospitaller. By in 1147, the leper hospital had broken away from the Hospitallers and was recognized as a religious order in its own right. Initially referred to as the Leper Brothers of Jerusalem, the members of this new religious order soon came to be called the Knights of St. Lazarus, and adopted a green cross as their symbol. (Note: the Templars wore red crosses on white, the Hospitaller at this time white crosses on black, and the Teutonic Knights adopted a black cross on white.) 

Membership in the Order of St. Lazarus was mandatory for knights of the other militant orders who developed leprosy after taking holy vows, and for members of the nobility of Outremer, who came down with the disease, but was not confined to these individuals. Any leper, of course, could join the community, and healthy individuals, intent on showing Christian love and charity, could do so by joining the order and serving the lepers. Enough healthy knights belonged to the Order by the 13th century for knights to have fought at the Battle of Gaza in 1244, the Battle of Ramla in 1253, and during the defense of Acre in 1291. They may also have fought at Hattin in 1187.

All the above battles post-date the death of Baldwin IV and while that may be pure chance, it seems more likely that it was Baldwin IV’s steadfast service to his kingdom on the battlefield that inspired knights to join the Order of St. Lazarus and encouraged the Order itself to take on a more militant role. Baldwin initially led his armies on horseback, despite being unable to use his hands, and later led from a litter. A greater example of courage from a man suffering from such a debilitating disease can hardly be imagined. 

King Baldwin IV leads his army on horseback in the film "The Kingdom of Heaven"
  
But it is equally significant that his powerful barons, their knights, and all the free burghers of the Kingdom of Jerusalem were willing to do homage to and obey a leper. Baldwin IV could not have defeated Saladin repeatedly (as he did!), if he had not commanded the undivided and unquestioning loyalty of his subjects. This fact, more than his own actions, tells us that leprosy in the crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem was indeed recognized as a “holy disease.” Baldwin IV’s leprosy, far from evoking contempt or even revulsion, as Hollywood and many modern writers would have us believe, inspired awe among his contemporaries. 


Contemporary attitudes toward leprosy in the Kingdom of Jerusalem are reflected in Schrader's award-winning Jerusalem Trilogy, particularly the first and second books in which Baldwin IV is an important character:

                         



 Buy now!                                                       Buy now!                                                    Buy now!

"The Tale of the English Templar" is a fictional work that depicts the destruction of the Knight's Templar. 



An escaped Templar, an intrepid, old crusader, and a discarded bride
embark on a quest for justice in the face of tyranny. 
 

"St. Louis Knight" is a novel set against the backdrop of the Seventh Crusade and St. Louis' sojourn in the Holy  Land. A Templar novice and King Louis are the central characters. 
It is now available in audiobook as well as paperback and ebook.

 
 A crusader in search of faith --
A lame lady in search of revenge --
And a King who would be saint.

St. Louis' Knight takes you to the Holy Land in the 13th century, and a world filled with knights, nobles, prophets -- and assassins. 
(Available in Audiobook)