by Jeffrey Lee
But whatever their age and attractiveness, Constance would probably have rejected any Byzantine suitor. She was unwilling to subject herself and her city to closer rule from Constantinople. Most of her subjects – and the Franks of Outremer in general – agreed with this policy and would have preferred her to choose a Frankish consort. In opposition to the Byzantine option, King Baldwin provided his own succession of prospects. William of Tyre describes how the king repeatedly:
advised the princess to choose one of the nobles as a husband, by whose counsel and efforts the principality might be governed. There were in the land at that time a number of noble and distinguished men attached to the camp of the king Among them were Ives de Nesle, count of Soissons, a distinguished man, wise and discreet, of great influence in the kingdom of the Franks; Walter de Falkenberg, castellan of St Omer, who was later lord of Tiberias, a discreet man and very courteous, wise in counsel and valiant in arms; and also Ralph de Merle, a noble of the highest rank, experienced in the practice of arms and noted for his good sense Any one of these seemed with justice quite capable of protecting the region.5
Many of the virtues that qualified these knights to lead Antioch were precisely the same as those applied elsewhere to Reynald. The suitors were sage, cortois, noble and valiant. They also had advantages that Reynald did not – great influence, in the case of Ives de Nesle, Count of Soissons. But it did not matter how well suited they were. One after the other, Constance sent them all packing.
Meanwhile the strategic situation in Antioch was becoming critical. Nur al-Din remained on the offensive, pressurizing the Frankish possessions to the east, in what remained of the county of Edessa. Then, in May 1150, another disaster befell the Franks. Count Joscelin II of Edessa had succeeded in holding off Nur al-Din from what remained of his county, and had recently even dealt the Zengid forces a severe defeat. Nur al-Din’s armour was amongst the booty and, in a show of bravado, Joscelin sent the captured chainmail to Nur al-Din’s father-in-law, the powerful Seljuk chieftain Mas’ud, with an arrogant message: ‘Here is your son-in-law’s armour. Next you will be receiving something more serious.’ Soon afterwards Joscelin was riding from his lands to a conference in Antioch when he fell into the clutches of a band of Turcoman marauders. Some said he was captured while lying unconscious after a fall from his horse; others that he had left his escort to answer a call of nature. The freebooters sold him to a Jew in Aleppo as a slave. To Joscelin’s misfortune, the Jew recognized him and sold him for a quick profit to Nur al-Din. The atabeg had Joscelin blinded, bound in chains and flung into a pit. The historian Ibn al-Athir wrote that Joscelin’s capture was:
one of the greatest successes for the Muslims because the count was an intransigent devil, fierce against the Muslims and cruel. His capture was a blow to all Christendom.6
Still lacking a prince, Antioch was too weak to come to the aid of the now-leaderless Edessa. With Joscelin a prisoner of war, the remaining fortresses of the county fell in steady succession. When the end was clearly in sight, Joscelin’s wife Beatrice sold the remnants of her county to Emperor Manuel. However, the basileus had not done his due diligence on the purchase: the county of Edessa was extinguished in July 1151 with the fall of Joscelin’s great castle at Turbessel. The first state created by the Franks in the East was gone. Antioch had lost its eastern bulwarks and was more exposed than ever.
The extinction of Edessa drummed home to every Frank in the East just how fragile their establishment was. After Edessa, Antioch could be next. The pressure mounted on Constance to take a husband, but still she was not ready. William of Tyre disapproved:
The princess… dreaded the yoke of marriage and preferred a free and independent life She paid little heed to the needs of her people and was far more interested in enjoying the pleasures of life.7
Independence here, of course, had significance beyond Constance’s personal liberty. The freedom of Antioch from vassalage to either the king of Jerusalem or the Byzantine emperor was also at stake. King Baldwin decided to mount a full-frontal assault on Constance and invited her down the coast to Tripoli, where the leaders of the Latin states were gathered for a summit.
The king, well aware of her predilection, called a general council at Tripoli, consisting of the nobles of the kingdom and the principality… After subjects of general interest had received careful attention, the matter of the marriage of the princess was given consideration.8
The arguments of the council could not sway Constance, so King Baldwin brought out his secret weapons; Constance’s intimidating aunts, the dowager Queen Melisende of Jerusalem and the Countess of Tripoli, Hodierna, ambushed their niece and berated her for putting Antioch in jeopardy. Along with the efforts of King Baldwin and Count Raymond II of Tripoli, they used every feminine wile to convince her to accept one of the very eligible barons on offer. Nothing worked. Queen Melisende was a dominant personality, who had ruled for a time in her own right. In full termagant mode, she had ridden roughshod over kings and princes, but Constance was made of even sterner stuff. She adamantly refused all-comers. William of Tyre ascribed her fussiness to the typical folly of women. A modern guess might be that Constance was simply enjoying her independence. We are bound to wonder, however, whether she stubbornly rejected all her official suitors because her eye and her heart were already drawn elsewhere. According to William of Tyre, ‘the pleasures of life’ that Constance preferred involved a certain young nobleman from Burgundy:
The Lady Constance, widow of Prince Raymond of Antioch, who, after the fashion of women, had refused many distinguished nobles, secretly chose as her husband Renaud de Chatillon, a knight in the pay of the king.9
We cannot be sure how long the affair had been going on before it became public. By 1153 Constance had set her heart on Reynald, but the engagement was still secret. Perhaps the princess believed in what Andreas Capellanus would make his thirteenth precept of courtly love, ‘When made public, love rarely endures.’
In 1153, King Baldwin III launched a major offensive against the fortress city of Ascalon, on the southern borders of his kingdom. The lone town on the Levantine coast still in Muslim hands, Ascalon had been a persistent strategic problem for the Latin states since the First Crusade. The city was powerfully fortified, well stocked with arms and provisions and contained a numerous and determined garrison. Ascalon barred the route to Egypt and was a base for constant raids into Frankish territory. Over more than fifty years ‘the Bride of Syria’ had resisted everything the Franks could throw at her. This time they were determined to capture the city, and Baldwin summoned all the forces at his disposal for the campaign. This included Reynald de Chatillon. It is here, at Ascalon, that we find the earliest mention of Reynald in the contemporary sources and, for the first time, have his whereabouts specifically attested. According to a terse William of Tyre, ‘two high-born men of France’ were marching as mercenaries in the army of the king: ‘Reynald de Chatillon and Walter of St Omer; these last two served the king for pay.’10
Intriguingly, Reynald is mentioned here in the same breath as Walter of St Omer, another brave young knight from France who arrived on crusade with Louis VII and had been stationed in Antioch. Walter had been a popular candidate for Constance’s hand, and would later make a great catch of his own in Eschiva of Bures, Lady of Tiberias. That marriage would make Walter Prince of Galilee, the most important fief in the Kingdom of Jerusalem. The close link to Walter is another reason to think that, during his time in Antioch, Reynald was in the circle of Princess Constance. Clearly Reynald and Walter were two of a kind – men on the make, young bucks who stood out equally for their skill in war and their vaulting levels of ambition. But if Walter was the early favourite in the marriage stakes, he turned out to have been only a wingman for his friend. Reynald struck it lucky first, because during the siege of Ascalon, as the Estoire d’Eracles recounts, Constance finally revealed her choice for husband and new ruler of Antioch:
Constance the Princess of Antioch, who
had refused many great barons, gave her heart to a bachelor of France who was not a very rich man, but wise, courteous and of high rank A handsome bachelor and a fine knight, his name was Reynald de Chatillon11
What made Constance choose Reynald over the many other, more obviously advantageous suitors? The sources strongly support the contention that love was a factor. Constance ‘gave her heart’ to the ‘handsome bachelor’ and ‘greatly desired’ him. In Raymond, she had been used to a husband who was renowned for his good looks. The handsome Reynald ticked this box. Also, unlike the much older Raymond and the rejected John Roger, Reynald was for once a lover in Constance’s own age group. And along with the physical attraction, Reynald fulfilled many of the qualities of the romanticized ideal of the knight; and while he was not wealthy, his lineage was theoretically very impressive. In a move typical of the upwardly mobile families of the day, the Lords of Donzy had conveniently found noble blood dating back to Roman times. They traced their descent to the aristocratic Roman clan of the Palladii.12
In the conventions of courtly love, the passion between an aspiring knight and his lady was a celibate one, but sometimes the literary expressions of love and service could cross the line and become physical. This is apparently what happened in this case. The brave young knight-errant had truly won his princess. William of Tyre even hints at what was essentially an elopement. Constance ‘secretly’ became engaged to Reynald, and the assent of the king was merely a rubber stamp.
The match was clearly not all about blind passion, though. The princess would not have bestowed her principality, and the inheritance of her son, on a poor man – however handsome and well mannered – without good reason. Yes, Reynald’s courtly qualities would have helped. More importantly, Reynald was serving as a knight in Antioch, so Constance had ample opportunity to observe what really mattered: his skills as a leader and as a warrior. To outweigh his lowly status, these qualities must have been truly exceptional. Still, William of Tyre wrote wickedly:
Many there were, however, who marvelled that a woman so eminent, so distinguished and powerful, who had been the wife of a very illustrious man, should stoop to marry an ordinary knight.13
The snobbery reflected in William’s dismissive phrase ‘ordinary knight’ could not halt Reynald’s inexorable rise. According to many observers, the young man had outstanding abilities, some of them grudgingly admitted even by William himself. The marriage was certainly acceptable to King Baldwin, who, if he had any choice in the matter, must have thought Reynald capable of ruling well and, at the very least, of performing the critical princely role to ‘guard the land’. Reynald had already proved himself trusted by the king as one of his leading warriors. One version of the marriage story – that of Ernoul – portrays it as Baldwin’s idea, and pre-approved by his barons. Indeed, if he needed any more proof of Reynald’s mettle, Baldwin saw it at first hand during the siege of Ascalon. While William of Tyre cannot bring himself to praise Reynald’s actions there, his mention of Reynald’s presence is a hint that something special occurred.** The chronicler Michael the Syrian, who spent time in Antioch and knew Reynald personally, is explicit: the ‘Lord called Reynald’ played a significant role at Ascalon, ‘running the gauntlet of death, in peril of his life’. The Syriac historian Gregory the Priest also writes of Reynald’s ‘heroic deeds’ during the siege. It is possible Reynald put on an especially good show on this very public stage, in the knowledge that he was going to ask the king a big favour.
Reynald asked for Baldwin’s consent while in the field at Ascalon, in front of the leading nobles and bishops of the Latin states. In doing so, Reynald gave a glimpse of one of his most striking personality traits – a flair for the theatrical, a penchant for the dramatic and emotional gesture. Instead of straightforwardly and discreetly asking for Constance’s hand, when he came before King Baldwin, the Estoire d’Eracles recounts that:
Reynald fell at his feet and begged him very humbly to not refuse him such a great honour, because with the help of God and the support of the king, he would strive to defend the land of Antioch and would always be at his command.14
Ascalon finally fell to the Franks in August 1153. From Cilicia in the north to the borders of Egypt in the south, the entire littoral was now in Frankish hands. By the time of this great victory, Reynald was openly engaged to Constance. They went public only after King Baldwin gave his approval: ‘She did not wish this to be made public, however, until she had secured the authority and consent of the king, her cousin, under whose protection her principality lay.’15 As well as marrying for love, Constance showed in her choice that the interests of Antioch were currently better served by owing allegiance to the King of Jerusalem than to the Emperor of Constantinople.
The royal stamp of approval did nothing to diminish the scandal, however. The marriage was the talk of Outremer:
Reynald returned to Antioch and immediately married the lady who greatly desired him Many marvelled, and gossip spread throughout the land, but no matter what people said, Reynald de Chatillon became Prince of Antioch16
To the consternation of many and the delicious gossip of all, the landless soldier of fortune had won the heart of a princess and become ruler of one of the greatest cities in the world. He had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. The question now was whether he would prove worthy of his good fortune.
* For instance, starting in 1183, Princess Isabella of Jerusalem would be married off four times for her royal birthright. Her husbands were: Humphrey IV of Toron, Conrad of Montferrat, Henry of Champagne and Amalric II, King of Cyprus.
** Another, even more striking example of William of Tyre glossing over Reynald’s military prowess would occur some twenty-four years later.
The Citadel, Antioch, summer 1154
The impregnable citadel of Antioch sat high above the city on the crest of Mount Silpius. Far below, Antioch spread out between the slopes of the mountain and the Orontes River, with the great Cathedral of St Peter at its heart. It was a beautiful city, decked with gardens and fountains, ‘the chief city of all of Syria, watered by the Orontes and refreshed by the west wind’.
Colossal walls built by the Roman Emperor Justinian encircled the town, studded by 360 massive towers clad in great blocks of stone. To the east, the fertile plains of the principality stretched into the distance. To the west, through the haze, rose St Simon’s Mount. On that hot summer day, looking out from the tower of the citadel, it would have made a magnificent sight for the Patriarch Aimery.
But the elderly patriarch was not enjoying the view. Chained to the top of the tower, he was naked, his bald head and his entire body burning in the scorching summer sun. Before casting him onto the turret, the soldiers had beaten him savagely. Blood seeped from his cuts and dripped onto the dusty stonework. Attracted by the blood, flies and blood-sucking creatures buzzed around him, settling on his wounds.
As a final flourish, Reynald had made his men smear Aimery’s body with honey, so that the stings of wasps and bees added to his torment.
The message was clear.
You did not cross the new Prince of Antioch.
Chapter 5
DIABOLIC DARING
The prince, who was an arriviste, was… driven out of his mind with rage. He took the Patriarch and led him shamefully to the donjon of Antioch. Then he did even greater devilry: He tied the Patriarch, who was priest and sacred bishop in the see of the holy St Peter, to the top of the tower, even though he was a sick old man There he had him smeared with honey and left in the burning sun all day, to suffer the heat and the flies in great torment
Estoire d’Eracles
After Prince Raymond’s death in 1149, the Patriarch Aimery of Limoges had promptly taken charge of Antioch and organized an effective opposition to repel Nur al-Din. Since then the patriarch, ‘who was a rich and powerful man, widely obeyed throughout the land’, had been in day-to-day control of the affairs of state. As such, he had opposed any marriage for Princess Constance, knowing that
a new prince would leave him sidelined. At King Baldwin’s council in Tripoli, for instance, Aimery’s influence had been critical in helping Constance hold firm against the pressure of her aunts. William of Tyre recorded that, in rejecting the plans for her marriage, the princess:
was guided by the advice of the patriarch. He, being a very artful and subtle man, is said to have supported her in this mistake, in order that he might have a freer hand in the government of the land – a thing which he greatly desired.1
When Reynald married Constance in 1153 and took over the reins of power, Aimery made his displeasure obvious. Reynald was not in a position to ignore such a dangerous rival, and kept him under observation. Aimery continued to bad-mouth Reynald all over town, but in undermining his prince’s position, he was taking a great risk. The bishop ‘spoke about him [Reynald] in private and even in council as though he did not fear or respect him in the least’.
However, Aimery had misjudged his opponent. As a ‘new man’, without wealth or allies to bolster his position, Reynald could not tolerate dissent. He had to stamp out this challenge to his authority. Here we see one of Reynald’s traits clearly displayed – his capacity for decisive and memorably gruesome action. ‘Moved to violent and inexorable wrath’, the prince, wrote William of Tyre:
Laid violent hands upon the patriarch and with diabolic daring caused the venerable man to be seized and ignominiously conducted to the citadel which towers above Antioch.2
Reynald was not just acting out of anger. He had another motive for mistreating the patriarch – his wealth. Reynald needed money. As we know, he was not a rich man, and a prince had many expenses. He had to maintain a standing army and keep a court with the requisite largesse. The Greek historian John Kinnamos tells us that Reynald ‘felt extreme poverty’ and so laid a trap for the patriarch, whom he ‘knew to be very wealthy’. Reynald invited Aimery to the palace and, ‘entertaining the bishop privately, he asked him for money’. The patriarch refused to help Reynald and, ‘because he was unable to persuade him’, the prince seized Aimery, thrashed him brutally and set him naked on the tower. According to Kinnamos, the treatment had the desired effect because, sometime during his agonizing, insect-plagued day in the burning Syrian sun, the patriarch caved in. He ‘gave way, offering to yield all his wealth’ to Reynald.