by Jeffrey Lee
The elephant in the Antiochene room was the Byzantine Empire. Antioch was legally a vassal state of Byzantium. Bohemond I of Taranto, first crusader Prince of Antioch, had paid homage to the emperor for his principality, and imperial suzerainty had been repeatedly reaffirmed ever since. Most recently, Raymond of Poitiers had bowed to the emperor John Comnenos in 1138 and to his son Manuel in 1145. Raymond had to kneel in abject submission beside John’s tomb before Manuel would grant him an audience. The emperor had then insisted on the even more humiliating imposition of a Greek Orthodox patriarch in Antioch although, showing wise regard for Frankish sensibilities, Manuel had not exercised this clause. When Raymond was killed in 1149, Manuel hoped to gain closer control over Antioch, but his efforts to dominate the province via a marriage to Constance had failed. He was not pleased to see the ancient metropolis pass to the adventurer Reynald.
Reynald ostensibly owed more to Baldwin and Jerusalem than to Manuel and Constantinople, but while he had been King Baldwin’s sword for hire and the king had blessed his marriage, in keeping with established Antiochene policy, Reynald attempted to steer an independent course. He was quite happy to work with the emperor if it suited him.
In 1155, Manuel asked Reynald for help. The Byzantines had a problem with the Armenians in Cilicia. The rebellious Armenian prince, Thoros II, who had been imprisoned in Constantinople, had escaped some years before and returned to his homeland. Since then he had carved out an Armenian realm from the Byzantine province and had conquered the major cities, including the capital, Tarsus, and had killed the governor of Mamistra. William of Tyre, who always had a soft spot for the emperor Manuel, had no such feelings for the savage Armenian:
This man [Thoros] by his capricious and unloyal acts had often fallen under the displeasure of the emperor and incurred his rebuke. Since his lands were far distant from the empire and his residence in the high mountains was difficult of access, he often descended into the plain of Cilicia and carried off booty and spoils. He preyed without scruple upon the land of his lord in every way and brought heavy and unmerited trouble upon the faithful subjects of the empire, without regard to rank or condition1
Manuel had sent his kinsman, the handsome, mercurial Andronicos Comnenos, to tame Thoros, but Andronicos had been well beaten. It was clear that for Byzantium to dislodge Thoros, the emperor himself would have to lead a massive expedition across Asia Minor. But Manuel’s attention and resources were tied up in the west; in Italy and on the seas he was at war with the Normans of Sicily, while in his Balkan provinces he was occupied with restive Serbian subjects and belligerent Hungarian neighbours. The cynical reality of Near Eastern politics is seen in Manuel’s next attempt at a solution for the Cilician problem – an alliance with the Greeks’ traditional enemies, the Seljuk Turks; Manuel arranged for the Seljuk Sultan of Iconium, Mas’ud, to invade Cilicia. Already bitter enemies of the Greeks, the Armenians were especially outraged that the emperor would stoop so low as to incite the Muslims against them. Unfortunately for Manuel, Thoros managed to defeat the Turkish incursion too, and continued to expand his domains at the empire’s expense. In 1155, Manuel tried a different proxy and turned to his ‘vassal’ in Antioch to do his dirty work for him. The emperor, wrote William of Tyre, asked Reynald:
To send forth his knights and keep Thoros away from the lands of the empire, that the possessions of his Cilician subjects might be safe from such raids If money were needed for the purpose, he himself would send a sufficient sum.2
Money most certainly was needed. Byzantine gold alone might have won Reynald over, but in addition he had his own casus belli with the Armenians. During the reign of Prince Raymond, Thoros had taken control of some castles previously held by the Knights Templar in the mountain ranges between Antioch and Cilicia, notably the great fortress of Baghras. This chain of fortresses was pivotal to Antioch’s defensive system and had to be retaken. Reynald demanded the return of the castles, on the basis that ‘the brethren [the Templars] fought for all Christendom, so they should get back what belonged to them’. Thoros said no. Typically Reynald wasted no time in his response: ‘The prince, who was valiant and chivalrous, greatly desired to serve the emperor.’ He ‘at once summoned a large force of cavalry and proceeded to Cilicia, where he repulsed Thoros and completely destroyed his army’.3 Even William of Tyre describes Reynald’s part in this as a ‘valiant deed’. In a battle near the coastal city of Alexandretta, Thoros was soundly beaten: ‘Reynald chased Thoros from the land, fell upon the houses of those who had helped him and destroyed them utterly.’ Thoros fled to safety, then made peace with Reynald and returned the disputed castles to the Templars.4
Despite Reynald’s victory over the Armenians, things turned out badly for the emperor. The Franks regained their fortresses, but Cilicia remained outside imperial control. Worse (from the emperor’s viewpoint), Reynald and Thoros got over their differences and became the best of allies. The problem was that Manuel did not keep his part of the bargain. The campaign had been very costly to Reynald, who expected ‘great gifts’ in return, but the emperor’s ‘sufficient sum’ of gold did not materialize. Or, as William of Tyre put it, ‘the honourable recompense which he hoped to receive for his valiant deed seemed slow in arriving’. Reynald was enraged. Money – or the lack of it – was a sore point for him. The expenses of the Prince of Antioch were crippling. He had to redeem his debts, pay his mercenary troops and show the largesse required of any feudal overlord worth his salt. The Armenian campaign stretched his finances to breaking point. As he showed with his swift vengeance on the patriarch, Reynald was not one to tolerate a slight. He could not afford, politically or economically, to let the emperor off the hook. The prince was determined to make Manuel pay – in gold and in suffering. This time Reynald found a truly extreme way to make his point. The result was another ‘shameful act’.5 In the spring of 1156, Reynald invaded the island of Cyprus.
The island was Christian. It was peaceful, fertile, wealthy and, though Byzantine territory, it enjoyed friendly political relations and mutually profitable trade links with the Latin states just sixty miles away on the mainland. Assaulting the island ran the risk of full-scale retribution from the empire, but Reynald did not mind. As he prepared his attack ‘in a piratical fashion’,6 some of the Franks in Jerusalem – perhaps the party sympathetic to Byzantium – sent warning to the Cypriots. It did not help. There was not enough time to reinforce the garrison, which was only sufficient to deter the infrequent raids of Egyptian corsairs. The Greek general Michael Branas tried to defeat the invasion at Nicosia, but against Reynald’s effective generalship and battle-hardened troops, the island’s militia had no chance. As William of Tyre commented:
All the forces of the island, such as they were, had been assembled; but Prince Renaud, marching upon them, at once defeated their army and shattered their forces completely so that thereafter no one might dare to raise a hand against him7
Reynald captured Branas and the governor, Manuel’s nephew, the Protosebastos John Comnenos. He then proceeded to sack the island with appalling savagery. The inhabitants were ‘Subjected to the monstrous tyranny of the prince of Antioch, who treated them as if they had been enemies of the faith and detestable parricides’.8
The army of Antioch ran amok. They looted and burned, raped and plundered. They mutilated the Orthodox priests and murdered with abandon. According to William of Tyre:
[Reynald] completely overran the island without meeting any opposition, destroyed cities, and wrecked fortresses He broke into monasteries of men and women alike and shamefully abused nuns and tender maidens. Although the precious vestments and the amount of gold and silver which he carried off were great, yet the loss of these was regarded as nothing in comparison with the violence done to chastity. For several days Renaud’s forces continued to ravage the whole country; and, since there was none to offer resistance, they showed no mercy to age or sex, neither did they recognize difference of condition. Finally, laden with a vast amoun
t of riches and spoils of every kind, they returned to the seashore9
On the shore, Reynald realized they did not have space to transport the vast herds of livestock they had seized. He wrung the last few bezants out of the traumatized islanders by selling their animals back to them. He did find space amongst the booty, however, for the most valuable captives – bishops, priests and nobles – who were shipped back to Antioch as hostages until their ransoms were paid. The island was left destitute and in ruins.
After many centuries, the cruelty of the Cyprus invasion still baffles and shocks. The Cypriots were innocent victims caught in the middle of short-term quarrels and long-term geopolitics in which they played no part. Late payment of a debt does not seem to justify such violent revenge, but Reynald had to collect somehow and, unfortunately for Cyprus, the island was Byzantine territory within reach – and a soft target. Michael the Syrian says that Reynald attacked because the Cypriots were mistreating Franks on the island. Even if true, this would have been no more than a secondary motive. The atrocity sent a clear message to the basileus that his betrayal would not be tolerated. Thoros and his Armenians, who hated the Byzantines even more than the Franks did, tagged along with the invasion and added some excesses of their own. Amongst other things, the Armenians excused the attack as recompense for the hurt suffered when Manuel allied against them with the Muslim Seljuks. The Byzantines had also killed Thoros’ brother, Stephane, by throwing him into a cauldron of boiling water.
Reynald’s attack on Cyprus now appears shocking and abominable – and it was – but it was not exceptional for the time. If the islanders had been Muslims, it would have passed without much comment. What shocks one Christian chronicler is not the atrocities themselves, but the fact that they were inflicted on Christians. Clerical chroniclers such as William of Tyre and Gregory the Priest were also particularly disgusted at the violence inflicted on fellow churchmen.
Reynald was not the only crusader to bring devastation to Cyprus. In 1162, Count Raymond III of Tripoli would raid the island with great savagery. Richard the Lionheart would actually conquer the island from the Byzantines in 1191 and would later sell it to the Knights Templar. But while these acts are glossed over by historians, Reynald’s operation attracts universal censure. Perhaps his raid really was much more savage, though Greek and Latin historians also record Raymond’s later attack as one of great slaughter and devastation. Perhaps the difference lay in that extra touch of memorable sadism that Reynald brought to his atrocities: he did not just kill Cypriot priests, but cut off their ears and noses and then sent the horrifically mutilated clergymen to Byzantium, as an unforgettable mark of his wrath.
Reynald’s raid won him great riches, but his ill-gotten gains did not go far. William of Tyre remarked with some satisfaction:
Within a short time all the wealth which had been so wickedly acquired was dissipated; for, as says the proverb, ‘Booty wickedly acquired brings no good results. ’10
From the bloodbath of Cyprus, however, Reynald could count some positive results. Yes, he earned more hatred from the Greeks and their appalled historians. Yes, by attacking fellow Christians (albeit schismatic Greeks) – and especially by the assaults on the Greek Church and its priests – he confirmed his wickedness, in the eyes of clergymen like William of Tyre and sworn enemies like the Patriarch Aimery. But most of the Franks resented the Greeks and regarded them as hardly better than Turks. If anything, Reynald’s atrocity might have won him admirers amongst his Frankish fellows. Most of all, he had boosted his fearsome reputation and, by defying the mighty emperor Manuel, had enhanced his prestige. But he had also stored up plenty of trouble for himself, for he had made a bitter enemy of the most powerful man in the world. Manuel’s compassion and anger had been roused by the ‘pitiful case of the Cyprians’.11
For that outrage, Reynald’s blood was forfeit. Luckily for Reynald and his Armenian partners in crime, the emperor, still occupied with adversaries in the West, was in no position to take revenge as yet. The vast machinery of the Byzantine state ground along slowly. The empire had been around for many centuries. She could bide her time and wait for her revenge.
Shayzar, Syria, October 1157
Trapped behind the weakened walls of their citadel, the Turkish defenders in the ancient city of Shayzar faced certain defeat.
The castle in which they held out was normally regarded as impregnable. It ran along the crest of a steep ridge, flanked all along one side by the Orontes River. On the other side the lower town, also formidably fortified, usually provided equal protection. But the previous autumn the suburb had been damaged in an earthquake, and just a few weeks earlier another massive quake had shattered the citadel itself. Shayzar’s ruler and his family had been gathered for the circumcision of one of the young princes, when part of the castle collapsed on top of them, killing almost everyone in attendance.
The walls had barely been repaired before the Franks suddenly appeared in strength. They had surrounded Shayzar and attacked with vigour, each commander striving for the glory of being the first to break in. After only a few days the siege ladders went up against the walls and the attackers swarmed over the ramparts. The jubilant infidels then sacked the town with gusto. Most of the inhabitants had escaped to the citadel and were trapped there with the garrison. Along with the hail of arrows and missiles, they could now hear sounds of revelry rising from the houses they had just abandoned, occupied by Franks enjoying their spoils.
The crusader army was just too strong. It was a striking example of that all-too-rare phenomenon in the Latin East – a coalition force from all three Latin states, Antioch, Tripoli and Jerusalem. The local units were further strengthened by a powerful visiting contingent under Count Thierry of Flanders, and by an Armenian army led by Thoros. The united front had been welded together in a common aim by the strategy of Reynald de Chatillon, and that strategy was on the verge of delivering a triumph for the crusaders. Without hope of a relief force, it was only a matter of time before the garrison of Shayzar capitulated.
Confident of victory, King Baldwin suggested that Shayzar be given to Count Thierry as a fief. Agreement was unanimous and everything was set fair for a famous victory. Apparently this time Reynald’s impulsive, self-seeking character was in abeyance and his cooperative approach was going to yield long-term gains for all the crusader states.
What could possibly go wrong?
Chapter 7
GUARDIAN OF THE LAND
He frequently adorned the whole province with his strenuous and glorious deeds of war.
Peter of Blois
After ruthlessly using the innocent Cypriots to teach the emperor a lesson, Reynald was able to return his attention to Antioch’s eastern frontiers and its Islamic enemies. In 1157, the magnate Thierry, Count of Flanders, ‘a great and distinguished man’, came on crusade to the Holy Land. It was his third armed pilgrimage, and as ever he brought with him a large retinue of men to fight for the cross. As with Louis VII and his army during the Second Crusade, the inevitable discussion arose as to where this eager fighting force would be best deployed. Everyone was agreed that ‘the arrival of such a great prince with so many noble and valiant men in his train ought not to be futile and without result’.1 The problem was that each leader looked first to improve his own strategic situation.
Baldwin of Jerusalem was concerned about the growing power of Nur al-Din on his kingdom’s frontiers. It was three years since the ruler of Aleppo had added Damascus to his dominions, displacing its ruler, Ibn al-Muqaddam, and uniting the two major cities of Syria for the first time since the crusaders arrived in the East. Damascus and its weak ruler had been so dominated by the crusaders that their emissaries would wander through the city at will, freeing any Christian slaves who wished to return home. Soon after Nur al-Din took control, Damascus threw off its subservience. The crusaders had managed to establish themselves in the Levant largely due to the lack of Muslim cooperation, so Nur al-Din’s steady unification of Muslim Sy
ria was a dangerous strategic development. This was well appreciated by William of Tyre:
This change was decidedly disastrous to the interests of the kingdom. In place of a man without power, whose weakness rendered him harmless to the Christians and who up to this time, as if subject, had rendered them an annual tribute, a formidable adversary arose.2
Nur al-Din had shown what a different prospect he was, earlier in 1157. King Baldwin had invaded the territory of Damascus, breaking a truce. Nur al-Din had retaliated by inflicting a severe defeat on the army of Jerusalem outside the crusader-held town of Banyas. In desperation, Baldwin had summoned the kingdom’s remaining knights to his aid and had even appealed for help to the other Latin states. The Prince of Antioch responsibly answered the call, and it was only the timely appearance of reinforcements under Reynald and Count Raymond III of Tripoli that saved Banyas for the Franks.
Count Raymond would have preferred Thierry and his 400 Flemish knights to fight Nur al-Din along the borders of Tripoli, while Reynald of course wanted Thierry to campaign even further north, around Antioch. After an abortive assault from the county of Tripoli on the fort of Chastel Rouge, Reynald brought all his charisma and persuasive skills to bear. Clearly his sack of Cyprus and torture of the patriarch had not diminished his influence amongst the crusader leaders. On the contrary, after four years of guarding the land of Antioch, the man who could seduce a proud princess had earned the standing to win over the entire leadership of Outremer. They listened to him because: