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UNDER THE SUPERINTENDENCE OF THE SOCIETY FOR THE
DIFFUSION OF USEFUL
KNOWLEDGE.
THE LIBRARY
OF
ENTERTAINING KNOWLEDGE.
SECRET SOCIETIES
OF THE
MIDDLE AGES.
COMMITTEE.
COMMITTEE.
Chairman.—The Right Hon. LORD BROUGHAM, F.R.S., Member of the National Institute of France.
Chairman.—The Right Hon. LORD BROUGHAM, F.R.S., Member of the National Institute of France.
Vice-Chairman.—JOHN WOOD, Esq.
Vice-Chair.—JOHN WOOD, Esq.
Treasurer.—WILLIAM TOOKE, Esq., M.P., F.R.S.
Treasurer.—WILLIAM TOOKE, Esq., M.P., F.R.S.
Capt. F. Beaufort, R.N., F.R. and R.A.S., Hydrographer to the Admiralty.
G. Burrows, M.D. Peter Stafford Carey, Esq., A.M. William Coulson, Esq. R.D. Craig, Attorney J. Frederick Daniell, Esq., F.R.S. J.F. Davis, Esq., F.R.S. H.T. Delabeche, Esq., F.R.S. Lord Denman Samuel Duckworth, Esq. B. F. Dupfca, Esq. The Right Reverend Bishop of Durham, D.D. The Right Honorable Viscount Ebrington, Member of Parliament. Sir Henry Ellis, F.R.S., Principal Librarian, British Museum.
T. F. Ellis, Esq., A.M., F.R.A.S. John Elliotson, M.D., F.R.S. Thomas Falconer, Esq. I. L. Goldsmid, Esq., F.R., and R.A.S. B. Gompertz, Esq., Fellow of the Royal Society, and Royal Agricultural Society. G. B. Greenough, Esq., F.R., and L.S. M.D. Hill, Esq. Rowland Hill, Esq., F.R.A.S. The Right Honourable Sir J.C. Hobhouse, Baronet, Member of Parliament. David Jardine, Esq., A.M. Henry B. Ker, Esq. Thos. Hewitt Key, Esq., A.M. J.T. Leader, Esq., M.P. George C. Lewis, Esq., M.A. Thomas Henry Lister, Attorney. James Loch, Esq., M.P., F.G.S. George Long, Esq., M.A. J. W. Lubbock, Esq., A.M., F.R., R.A., and L.S.S. Sir Fred Madden, K.C.H. H. Malden, Esq., A.M. A. T. Malkin, Esq., M.A. James Manning, Esq. J. Herman Merivale, Esq., A.M., F.A.S.
Sir William Molesworth, Baronet, MP. Lord Nugent. W. H. Ord, Esq., MP
The Right Honorable Sir H. Parnell, Bt., M.P.
Dr. Roget, Sec. R.S., F.R.A.S. Edw. Romilly, Esq., A.M. Right Hon. Lord J. Russell, M.P. Sir M. A. Shee, P.R.A., F.R.S. John Abel Smith, Esq., M.P. The Right Hon. Earl Spencer. John Taylor, Esq., F.R.S. Dr. A. T. Thompson, F.L.S. Thomas Vardon, Attorney H. Waymouth, Esq. J. Whishaw, Esq., A.M., F.R.S. John Wrottesley, Esq., A.M., F.R.A.S. Thomas Wyse, Esq., M.P. J.A. Yates, Esq.
THOMAS COATES, Esq., Secretary, No. 59, Lincoln's Inn Fields.
THOMAS COATES, Esq., Secretary, 59 Lincoln's Inn Fields.
THE LIBRARY OF ENTERTAINING KNOWLEDGE.
[Keightley (Thomas) handwritten]
SECRET SOCIETIES
OF THE
MIDDLE AGES.
LONDON:
CHARLES KNIGHT & Co., LUDGATE-STREET.
LONDON:
CHARLES KNIGHT & Co., LUDGATE STREET.
MDCCCXXXVII.
1837.
LONDON:
Printed by William Clowes and Sons,
Stamford Street.
LONDON:
Printed by William Clowes and Sons,
Stamford Street.
CONTENTS.
Introduction | 1 |
THE ASSASSINS.
CHAPTER I. | State of the World in the Seventh Century—Western Empire—Eastern Empire—Persia—Arabia—Mohammed—His probable Motives—Character of his Religion—The Koran | 13 |
CHAPTER II. | Origin of the Khalifat—The first Khalifs—Extent of the Arabian Empire—Schism among the Mohammedans—Soonees and Sheähs—Sects of the latter—The Keissanee—The Zeidites—The Ghoollat—The Imamee—Sects of the Imamee—Their political Character—The Carmathites—Origin of the Fatimite Khalifs—Secret Society at Cairo—Doctrines taught in it—Its Decline | 24 |
CHAPTER III. | Ali of Rei—His son Hassan Sabah—Hassan sent to study at Nishaboor—Meets there Omar Khiam and Nizam-al-Moolk—Agreement made by them—Hassan introduced by Nizam to Sultan Malek Shah—Obliged to leave the Court—Anecdote of him—His own account of his Conversion—Goes to Egypt—Returns to Persia—Makes himself Master of Alamoot [Pg vi] | 43 |
CHAPTER IV. | Description of Alamoot—Fruitless attempts to recover it—Extension of the Ismaïlite Power—The Ismaïlites in Syria—Attempt on the Life of Aboo-Hard Issa—Treaty made with Sultan Sanjar—Death of Hassan—His Character | 56 |
CHAPTER V. | Organization of the Society—Names given to the Ismaïlites—Origin of the name Assassin—Marco Polo's description of the Paradise of the Old Man of the Mountain—Description of it given by Arabian writers—Instances of the obedience of the Fedavee | 66 |
CHAPTER VI. | Keäh Buzoorg Oomeid—Affairs of the Society in Persia—They acquire the Castle of Banias in Syria—Attempt to betray Damascus to the Crusaders—Murders committed during the reign of Keäh Buzoorg | 84 |
CHAPTER VII. | Keäh Mohammed—Murder of the Khalif—Castles gained in Syria—Ismaïlite Confession of Faith—Mohammed's Son Hassan gives himself out for the promised Imam—His followers punished—Succession of Hassan—He abolishes the Law—Pretends to be descended from the Prophet—Is murdered | 93 |
CHAPTER VIII. | Mohammed II.—Anecdote of the Imam Fakhr-ed-deen—Noor-ed-deen—Conquest of Egypt—Attempt on the Life of Saladin | 102 |
CHAPTER IX. | Sinan the Dai-al Kebir of Syria—Offers to become a Christian—His Ambassador murdered by the Templars—Cardinal de Vitry's Account of the Assassins—Murder of the Marquis of Montferrat—Defence of King Richard [Pg vii] | 114 |
CHAPTER X. | Jellal-ed-deen—Restoration of Religion—His Harem makes the Pilgrimage to Mecca—Marries the Princess of Ghilan—Geography of the Country between Roodbar and the Caspian—Persian Romance—Zohak and Feridoon—Kei Kaoos and Roostem—Ferdoosee's Description of Mazanderan—History of the Shah Nameh—Proof of the Antiquity of the Tales contained in it. | 131 |
CHAPTER XI. | Death of Jellal-ed-deen—Character of Ala-ed-deen, his successor—The Sheikh Jemal-ed-deen—The Astronomer Nasir-ed-deen—The Vizir Sheref-al-Moolk—Death of Ala-ed-deen—Succession of Rukn-ed-deen, the last Sheikh-al-Jebal | 148 |
CHAPTER XII. | The Mongols—Hoolagoo sent against the Ismaïlites—Rukn-ed-deen submits—Capture of Alamoot—Destruction of the Library—Fate of Rukn-ed-deen—Massacre of the Ismaïlites—St. Louis and the Assassins—Mission for the Conversion of the People of Kuhistan—Conclusion | 156 |
THE TEMPLARS.
CHAPTER I. | Introduction—The Crusades—Wrong Ideas respecting their Origin—True Causes of them—Pilgrimage—Pilgrimage of Frotmond—Of the Count of Anjou—Striking Difference between the Christianity of the East and that of the West—Causes of their different Characters—Feudalism—The Extent and Force of this Principle | 169 |
CHAPTER II. | First Hospital at Jerusalem—Church of Santa Maria de Latina—Hospital of St. John—The Hospitallers—Origin of the Templars—Their original Poverty—They acquire Consideration—St. Bernard—His Character of the Templars—The Order approved of and confirmed by the Council of Troyes—Proofs of the Esteem in which they were held [Pg viii] | 185 |
CHAPTER III. | Return of the Templars to the East—Exoneration and Refutation of the Charge of a Connection with the Ismaïlites—Actions of the Templars—Crusade of Louis VII.—Siege of Ascalon—Sale of Nassir-ed-deen—Corruption of the Hospitallers—The Bull, Omne Datum Optimum—Refusal of the Templars to march against Egypt—Murder of the Ismaïlite Envoy | 199 |
CHAPTER IV. | Heroism of the Templars and Hospitallers—Battle of Hittin—Crusade of Richard of England and Philip of France—Corruption of the Order—Pope Innocent III. writes a Letter of Censure—Frederic II.—Great Slaughter of the Templars—Henry III. of England and the Templars—Power of the Templars in Moravia—Slaughter of them by the Hospitallers—Fall of Acre | 210 |
CHAPTER V. | Classes of the Templars—The Knights—Their Qualifications—Mode of Reception—Dress and Arms of the Knight—Mode of Burial—The Chaplains—Mode of Reception—Dress—Duties and Privileges—The Serving-Brethren—Mode of Reception—Their Duties—The Affiliated—Causes and Advantages of Affiliation—The Donates and Oblates | 221 |
CHAPTER VI. | Provinces of the Order—Eastern Provinces—Jerusalem—Houses of this Province—Tripolis—Antioch—Cyprus—Western Provinces—Portugal—Castile and Leon—Aragon—France and Auvergne—Normandy—Aquitaine—Provence—England—Germany—Upper and Central Italy—Apulia and Sicily [Pg ix] | 242 |
CHAPTER VII. | Officers of the Order—The Master—Mode of Election—His Rights and Privileges—Restraints on him—The Seneschal—The Marshal—The Treasurer—The Draper—The Turcopilar—Great-Priors—Commanders—Visitors—Sub-Marshal—Standard-bearer | 253 |
CHAPTER VIII. | Chapters—Mode of holding them—Templars' Mode of Living—Amusements—Conduct in War | 266 |
CHAPTER IX. | Molay elected Master—Last attempt of the Christians in Syria—Conduct of the Three Military Orders—Philip the Fair and Pope Boniface VIII.—Seizure of the Pope—Election of Clement V.—The Papal See removed to France—Causes of Philip's enmity to the Templars—Arrival of Molay in France—His interviews with the Pope—Charges made against the Templars—Seizure of the Knights—Proceedings in England—Nature of the Charges against the Order | 276 |
CHAPTER X. | Examination of the captive Knights—Different kinds of Torture—Causes of Confession—What Confessions were made—Templars brought before the Pope—Their Declarations—Papal Commission—Molay brought before it—Ponsard de Gisi—Defenders of the Order—Act of Accusation—Heads of Defence—Witnesses against the Order—Fifty-four Templars committed to the Flames at Paris—Remarkable words of Aymeric de Villars-le-Duc—Templars burnt in other places—Further Examinations—The Head worshipped by the Templars—John de Pollincourt—Peter de la Palu | 293 |
CHAPTER XI. | Examinations in England—Germany—Spain—Italy—Naples and Provence—Sicily—Cyprus—Meeting of the Council of Vienne—Suppression of the Order—Fate of its Members—Death of Molay [Pg x] | 317 |
THE SECRET TRIBUNALS OF WESTPHALIA.
CHAPTER I. | Introduction—The Original Westphalia—Conquest of the Saxons by Charlemagne—His Regulations—Dukes of Saxony—State of Germany—Henry the Lion—His Outlawry—Consequences of it—Origin of German Towns—Origin of the Fehm-gerichte, or Secret Tribunals—Theories of their Origin—Origin of their Name—Synonymous Terms | 332 |
CHAPTER II. | The Tribunal-Lord—The Count—The Schöppen—The Messengers—The Public Court—The Secret Tribunal—Extent of its Jurisdiction—Places of holding the Courts—Time of holding them—Proceedings in them—Process where the Criminal was caught in the fact—Inquisitorial Process | 346 |
CHAPTER III. | Accusatorial Process—Persons liable to it—Mode of Citation—Mode of Procedure—Right of Appeal | 360 |
CHAPTER IV. | The General Chapter—Rights of the Emperor—Of his Lieutenant—Of the Stuhlherrn, or Tribunal-Lords | 372 |
CHAPTER V. | Fehm-courts at Celle—At Brunswick—Tribunal of the Knowing in the Tyrol—The Castle of Baden—African Purrahs [Pg xi] | 377 |
CHAPTER VI. | The Emperor Lewis the Bavarian—Charles IV.—Wenceslaus—Rupertian Reformation—Encroachments of the Fehm-courts—Case of Nickel Weller and the Town of Görlitz—Of the City of Dantzig—Of Hans David and the Teutonic Knights—Other instances of the presumption of the Free-counts—Citation of the Emperor Frederic III.—Case of the Count of Teckenburg | 385 |
CHAPTER VII. | Cause of the degeneracy of the Fehm-courts—Attempts at reformation—Causes of their high reputation—Case of the Duke of Würtemberg—Of Kerstian Kerkerink—Causes of the Decline of the Fehm-jurisdiction | 398 |
SECRET SOCIETIES
OF
THE MIDDLE AGES.
INTRODUCTION.
If we had the means of investigating historically the origin of Secret Societies, we should probably find that they began to be formed almost as soon as any knowledge had been accumulated by particular individuals beyond what constituted the common stock. The same thing has happened to knowledge that has happened to all other human possessions,—its actual holders have striven to keep it to themselves. It is true that in this case the possessor of the advantage does not seem to have the same reason for being averse to share it with others which naturally operates in regard to many good things of a different kind; he does not, by imparting it to those around him, diminish his own store. This is true, in so far as regards the possession of knowledge considered in its character of a real good; the owner of the treasure does not impoverish himself by giving it away, as he would by giving away his money, but remains as rich as ever, even after he has made ever so many others as rich as himself. But still there is one thing that he loses, and a thing upon which the human mind is apt to set a very high value; he loses the distinction which he derived from his knowledge. This distinction really serves, in many respects, the[Pg 2] same purpose that money itself does. Like money, it brings observation and worship. Like money, it is the dearest of all things, power. Knowledge, however held, is indeed essentially power; to ken, that is, to know, is the same word and the same thing with to can, that is, to be able. But there is an additional and a different species of power conferred by knowledge when it exists as the distinction of a few individuals in the midst of general ignorance. Here it is power not only to do those things the methods of doing which it teaches; it is, besides, the power of governing other men through your comparative strength and their weakness.
If we could investigate the history of Secret Societies, we would likely find that they started forming almost as soon as some individuals accumulated knowledge beyond what everyone else had. Similar to other human possessions, those who hold knowledge have tried to keep it to themselves. However, in this case, the person with knowledge doesn’t seem to have the same reason to be unwilling to share it as they do with many other valuable things; sharing it doesn’t reduce their own store. While it's true that sharing knowledge doesn’t diminish the owner’s wealth like giving away money would, and they remain just as rich even after making many others equally wealthy, there is still something they lose—something the human mind values highly. They lose the distinction that comes from their knowledge. This distinction serves a similar purpose to money; like money, it attracts attention and respect. Like money, it represents the most coveted thing: power. Knowledge is indeed power; to know is essentially the same as to be able. Yet, there’s another type of power that knowledge provides when it sets a few individuals apart in a sea of ignorance. This power not only allows them to accomplish things that knowledge teaches, but also gives them the ability to influence others through their comparative strength and those others’ weaknesses.
So strong is the motive thus prompting the possessor of knowledge to the exclusive retention of his acquisitions, that unless it had been met by another motive appealing in like manner directly to our self-interest, it appears probable that scarcely any general dissemination of knowledge would ever have taken place. The powerful counteracting motive in question is derived from the consideration that in most cases one of the most effective ways which the possessor of knowledge can take of exciting the admiration of others, is to communicate what he knows. The light must give itself forth, and illuminate the world, even that it may be itself seen and admired. In the very darkest times, the scholar or philosopher may find his ambition sufficiently gratified by the mere reputation of superior attainments, and the stupid wonder, or it may be superstitious terror, of the uninquiring multitude. But as soon as any thing like a spirit of intelligence or of curiosity has sprung up in the general mind, all who aspire to fame or consideration from their learning, their discoveries, or their intellectual powers, address themselves to awaken the admiration of their fellow-men, not by concealing, but by displaying their[Pg 3] knowledge—not by sealing up the precious fountain, but by allowing its waters to flow freely forth, that all who choose may drink of them. From this time science ceases almost to have any secrets; and, all the influences to which it is exposed acting in the same direction, the tendency of knowledge becomes wholly diffusive.
The urge for someone who has knowledge to keep it to themselves is so strong that, unless it’s countered by another motive appealing to our self-interest, it seems unlikely that there would have been widespread sharing of information. The powerful counterforce comes from the fact that in many cases, one of the best ways for someone with knowledge to gain admiration from others is to share what they know. The light needs to shine and illuminate the world to be seen and appreciated. Even in the darkest times, a scholar or philosopher can find their ambition fulfilled simply by the reputation of their superior knowledge, along with the awe or even superstitious fear of those who don't seek answers. But as soon as a sense of intelligence or curiosity emerges in the general public, those who aim for fame or respect because of their learning, discoveries, or intellect, focus on earning the admiration of others not by hiding their knowledge, but by showing it off—not by locking away the precious source but by letting its waters flow freely so that anyone who wants can drink from it. From this point on, science has almost no secrets, and with all the influences working in the same direction, the tendency of knowledge becomes completely widespread.
But in the preceding state of things the case was altogether the reverse. Then there was little or no inducement to the communication of knowledge, and every motive for those who were in possession of it to keep it to themselves. There was not intelligence enough abroad to appreciate, or even to understand, the truths of philosophy if they had been announced in their simplicity, and explained according to their principles; all that was cared for, all that was capable of arousing the vulgar attention, was some display, made as surprising and mysterious as possible, of their practical application. It would even have been attended with danger in many cases to attempt to teach true philosophy openly, or to make open profession of it; it was too much in opposition to some of the strongest prejudices which everywhere held sway. It is not, then, to be wondered at, that its cultivators should have sought to guard and preserve it by means of secret associations, which, besides excluding the multitude from a participation in the thing thus fenced round and hidden, answered also divers other convenient purposes. They afforded opportunities of free conference, which could not otherwise have been obtained. There was much in the very forms of mystery and concealment thus adopted calculated to impress the popular imagination, and to excite its reverence and awe. Finally, the veil which they drew around their proceedings enabled the members of these secret societies to combine their efforts, and arrange their plans, in[Pg 4] security and without interruption, whenever they cherished any designs of political innovation, or other projects, the open avowal and prosecution of which the established authorities would not have tolerated.
But in the previous situation, it was the complete opposite. There was little to no motivation to share knowledge, and every reason for those who had it to keep it to themselves. There wasn't enough understanding out there to appreciate or even grasp the truths of philosophy if they were presented simply and explained clearly; what people cared about, what caught their attention, was any kind of display that was as surprising and mysterious as possible regarding its practical application. In many cases, it would have even been dangerous to openly teach true philosophy or to openly declare it; it clashed too much with some of the strongest biases that were prevalent everywhere. So, it’s not surprising that those who practiced it sought to protect and preserve it through secret associations, which not only kept the masses from participating in what was kept hidden but also served various other useful purposes. They provided opportunities for open discussions that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise. There was a lot in the very nature of the mystery and secrecy that created a strong impression on the public and stirred feelings of respect and fear. Finally, the curtain they drew around their activities allowed the members of these secret societies to collaborate and organize their plans in[Pg 4] safety and without interruption, whenever they had any ideas for political change or other initiatives that the authorities wouldn’t have allowed to be openly stated or pursued.
The facilities afforded by the system of secret association, and it may even be said the temptations which it presents, to the pursuit of political objects forbidden by the laws, are so great as to justify all governments in prohibiting it, under whatever pretence it may be attempted to be introduced. It is nothing to the purpose to argue that under bad governments valuable political reforms have sometimes been effected by such secret associations which would not otherwise have been attained. The same mode of proceeding, in the nature of the thing, is equally efficacious for the overthrow of a good government. Bad men are as likely to combine in the dark for their objects as good men are for theirs. In any circumstances, a secret association is an imperium in imperio, a power separate from, and independent of, that which is recognized as the supreme power in the state, and therefore something essentially disorganizing, and which it is contrary to the first principles of all government for any state to tolerate. In the case of a bad government, indeed, all means are fairly available for its overthrow which are not morally objectionable, the simple rule for their application being that it shall be directed by considerations of prudence and discretion. In such a case a secret association of the friends of reform may sometimes be found to supply the most effective means for accomplishing the desired end; but that end, however desirable it may be, is not one which the constitution of the state itself can rationally contemplate. The constitution cannot be founded upon the supposition that even necessary alterations of it are to be brought about through agencies out of[Pg 5] itself, and forming no part of its regular mechanism. Whenever such agencies are successfully brought into operation, there is a revolution, and the constitution is at an end. Even the amendment of the constitution so effected is its destruction.
The benefits provided by secret associations, and even the temptations they create for pursuing political goals that are against the law, are so significant that all governments are justified in banning them, no matter the excuses used to introduce them. It's pointless to argue that valuable political reforms have sometimes been achieved through secret associations under bad governments, as those same tactics can also be used to overthrow a good government. Bad individuals are just as likely to organize in secret to pursue their aims as good individuals are. In any case, a secret association is an imperium in imperio, a power that exists separately from and independently of the recognized supreme authority in the state, making it inherently disruptive, which goes against the fundamental principles of any government to tolerate. In a bad government, all methods that are not morally objectionable can be used for its overthrow, with the guiding principle being that these actions should be driven by prudence and discretion. In such situations, a secret association of reform supporters may sometimes provide the most effective means to achieve the desired outcome; however, that outcome, no matter how desirable, is not something that the state’s constitution can rationally accept. The constitution cannot be based on the idea that even necessary changes to it can be made through external agencies that are not part of its regular framework. Whenever such agencies successfully operate, a revolution occurs, and the constitution comes to an end. Even amending the constitution in this way amounts to its destruction.
Yet most of the more remarkable secret associations which have existed in different ages and countries have probably either been originally formed to accomplish some political end, or have come to contemplate such an object as their chief design. Even when nothing more than a reformation of the national religion has been, as far as can be discovered, the direct aim of the association, it may still be fairly considered as of a political character, from the manner in which religion has been mixed up in almost every country with the civil institutions of the state. The effect which it was desired to produce upon the government may in many cases have been very far from extending to its complete abolition, and the substitution of another form of polity; an alteration in some one particular may have been all that was sought, or the object of the association may even have been to support some original principle of the constitution against the influence of circumstances which threatened its subversion or modification. Whether directed to the alteration or to the maintenance of the existing order of things, the irregular and dangerous action of secret combinations is, as we have said, a species of force which no state can reasonably be expected to recognize. But it may nevertheless have happened at particular emergencies, and during times of very imperfect civilization, that valuable service has been rendered by such combinations to some of the most important interests of society, and that they have to a considerable extent supplied the defects of the rude and imperfect arrangements of the ordinary government.[Pg 6]
Yet most of the notable secret groups that have existed throughout different times and places were probably either originally created to achieve some political goal or have come to see that as their main purpose. Even if the only clear aim of the group was to reform the national religion, it can still be considered political due to how religion has often intertwined with the civil institutions of the state in almost every country. The effect they hoped to achieve on the government might often not have been about completely abolishing it or replacing it with another form of government; perhaps they only wanted to change one specific aspect, or the goal of the group might have been to uphold some foundational principle of the constitution against circumstances that threatened to undermine or change it. Whether aimed at changing or maintaining the existing order, the unpredictable and risky actions of secret groups are, as we’ve mentioned, a kind of force that no state can reasonably be expected to acknowledge. However, it’s possible that, during critical moments and times of limited civilization, these groups provided valuable support to some of society's most important interests and effectively filled in gaps left by the crude and inadequate structures of regular government.[Pg 6]
The system of secret association is, indeed, the natural resource of the friends of political reform, in times when the general mind is not sufficiently enlightened to appreciate or to support their schemes for the improvement of the existing institutions and order of things. To proclaim their views openly in such circumstances would be of no more use than haranguing to the desert. They might even expose themselves to destruction by the attempt. But, united in a secret association, and availing themselves of all the advantages at once of their superior knowledge and intelligence, and of their opportunities of acting in concert, a very few individuals may work with an effect altogether out of proportion to their number. They may force in a wedge which in time shall even split and shiver into fragments the strength of the existing social system, no matter by how many ages of barbarism it may be consolidated. Or, in the absence of a more regular law and police, they may maintain the empire of justice by stretching forth the arm of their own authority in substitution for that of the state, which lies paralysed and powerless, and turning to account even the superstitions and terrors of the popular imagination by making these, as excited by their dark organization and mysterious forms of procedure, the chain whereby to secure the popular obedience.
The system of secret associations is really a key resource for those who support political reform, especially when the general population isn't informed enough to understand or back their ideas for improving current institutions and societal structures. Speaking out about their beliefs in such situations would be as useless as shouting in the desert. They might even put themselves in danger by trying. However, when they come together in a secret association and make the most of their superior knowledge and intelligence, as well as their ability to act together, even a small group of individuals can have a significant impact that far outweighs their numbers. They can drive in a wedge that over time could even break apart and shatter the strength of the existing social system, regardless of how many ages of barbarism have built it up. Or, when there's no proper law enforcement, they can uphold justice by stepping in with their own authority in place of the paralyzed and powerless state, even using the superstitions and fears of the public to ensure compliance through their secretive organization and mysterious methods.
On the whole, the system of secret association for political objects, even when there is no dispute about the desirableness of the ends sought to be accomplished, may be pronounced to be a corrective of which good men will avail themselves only in times of general ignorance, or under governments that sin against the first principles of all good government, by endeavouring to put a stop to the advancement of society through the prohibition of the open expression of opinion; but, in countries where the liberty of[Pg 7] discussion exists, and where the public mind is tolerably enlightened, as entirely unsuited to the circumstances of the case as it is opposed to the rules and maxims on which every government must take its stand that would provide for its own preservation. In these happier circumstances the course for the friends of social improvement to follow is to come forward into the full light of day as the only place worthy of their mission, and to seek the realization of their views by directly appealing to the understandings of their fellow-citizens.
Overall, the practice of secret political associations, even when everyone agrees on the worthiness of the goals, should be seen as something that good people will only turn to in times of widespread ignorance or under governments that betray the fundamental principles of good governance by trying to stifle society's progress through banning open discussions. In nations where freedom of [Pg 7] discussion exists, and where the public is relatively informed, such practices are completely unsuitable for the situation and contradict the principles that any government must uphold to ensure its own survival. In these more favorable conditions, those who support social progress should step into the light and engage directly with their fellow citizens to share and realize their ideas.
One evil to which secret societies are always exposed is the chance of the objects and principles of their members being misrepresented by those interested in resisting their power and influence. As the wakeful eyes of the government, and of those concerned in the maintenance of the actual system, will be ever upon them, they must strictly confine the knowledge of their real views and proceedings to the initiated, and as their meetings must for the same reason be held in retired places, and frequently by night, an opportunity, which is rarely neglected, is afforded to their enemies of spreading the most calumnious reports of their secret practices, which, though conscious of innocence, they may not venture openly to confute. By arts of this kind the suspicions and aversion of the people are excited, and they are often thus made to persecute their best friends, and still to bow beneath the yoke of their real foes. The similarity of the accusations made against secret associations in all parts of the world is a sufficient proof of their falsehood, and we should always listen to them with the utmost suspicion, recollecting the quarter from which they proceed. Of the spotless purity of the Christian religion when first promulgated through the Roman world no one can entertain a doubt; yet when persecution obliged its[Pg 8] professors to form as it were a secret society, the same charges of Thyestian banquets, and of the promiscuous intercourse of the sexes, were made against them, which they themselves afterwards brought, and with probably as little truth, against the various sects of the Gnostic heresy. Wherever there is secrecy there will be suspicion, and charges of something unable to bear the light of day will be made.
One danger that secret societies always face is the risk of their members' goals and values being misrepresented by those who want to undermine their power and influence. Since the vigilant eyes of the government and those invested in preserving the current system are always watching them, they must keep their true intentions and actions strictly limited to insiders. Their meetings, for the same reason, have to take place in secluded locations and often at night, which provides their enemies with an opportunity, often seized, to spread the most slanderous rumors about their secret activities. Even though they know they are innocent, they may not be able to openly refute these claims. Such tactics spark suspicion and distrust among the public, leading them to persecute their true allies while remaining subservient to their actual adversaries. The consistent nature of the accusations against secret associations worldwide serves as sufficient evidence of their falsehood, and we should always approach them with utmost skepticism, remembering where they come from. No one can doubt the unblemished purity of the Christian religion when it was first introduced in the Roman world; yet when persecution forced its followers to form a kind of secret society, they faced the same accusations of extravagant feasts and inappropriate relationships that they later directed against the different sects of the Gnostic heresy, probably with as little truth. Wherever there is secrecy, there will be suspicion, and charges of something that cannot stand the light of day will arise.
The ancient world presents one secret society of a professedly political character—that of the Pythagoreans. Of religious ones it might be expected to yield a rich harvest to the inquirer, when we call to mind all that has been written in ancient and modern times concerning the celebrated mysteries. But the original Grecian mysteries, such as those of Eleusis, appear to have been nothing more than public services of the gods, with some peculiar ceremonies performed at the charge of the state, and presided over by the magistrates, in which there were no secrets communicated to the initiated, no revelation of knowledge beyond that which was generally attainable. The private mysteries, namely, the Orphic, Isiac, and Mithraic, which were introduced from the East, were merely modes employed by cunning and profligate impostors for taking advantage of the weakness and credulity of the sinful and the superstitious, by persuading them that by secret and peculiar rites, and the invocation of strange deities, the apprehended punishment of sin might be averted. The nocturnal assemblies for the celebration of these mysteries were but too often scenes of vice and debauchery, and they were discountenanced by all good governments. It is to these last, and not to the Eleusinian mysteries, that the severe strictures of the fathers of the church apply[1].
The ancient world features one secret society that claims to be political—the Pythagoreans. When it comes to religious secret societies, we might expect a wealth of information for exploration, especially considering all that's been written about the famous mysteries throughout history. However, the original Greek mysteries, like those of Eleusis, seem to have been more about public rituals for the gods, with some unique ceremonies funded by the state and overseen by officials, where no true secrets were revealed to the initiates—just knowledge that was generally available to everyone. The private mysteries, such as the Orphic, Isiac, and Mithraic, which came from the East, were simply tactics used by deceitful and immoral frauds to exploit the vulnerability and gullibility of the sinful and superstitious, convincing them that by following secret rituals and calling upon strange gods, they could escape the consequences of their sins. The nighttime gatherings for these mysteries often turned into scenes of vice and excess, and they were disapproved by all decent governments. It is these gatherings, rather than the Eleusinian mysteries, that received harsh criticism from the church fathers[1].
The history of Pythagoras and his doctrines is[Pg 9] extremely obscure. The accounts of this sage which have come down to us were not written till many centuries after his death, and but little reliance is to be placed on their details. Pythagoras was a Samian by birth; he flourished in the sixth century before Christ, at the time when Egypt exercised so much influence over Greece, and its sages sought the banks of the Nile in search of wisdom. There is, therefore, no improbability in the tradition of Pythagoras also having visited that land of mystery, and perhaps other parts of the East, and marked the tranquil order of things where those who were esteemed the wise ruled over the ignorant people. He may therefore have conceived the idea of uniting this sacerdotal system with the rigid morals and aristocratic constitution of the Dorian states of Greece. His native isle, which was then under the tyranny of Polycrates, not appearing to him suited for the introduction of his new system of government, he turned his eyes to the towns of Magna Græcia, or Southern Italy, which were at that time in a highly flourishing condition, whose inhabitants were eager in the pursuit of knowledge, and some of which already possessed written codes of law. He fixed his view on Croton, one of the wealthiest and most distinguished of those towns.
The history of Pythagoras and his teachings is[Pg 9] very unclear. The accounts of this wise figure that have come down to us were written many centuries after he died, so we shouldn’t put much trust in their details. Pythagoras was originally from Samos; he thrived in the sixth century BC, at a time when Egypt had a big influence on Greece, and its thinkers traveled to the Nile in search of knowledge. So, it’s not unlikely that Pythagoras also visited that mysterious land and possibly other parts of the East, noticing the peaceful order where the wise ruled over the uninformed. This experience may have inspired him to merge this priestly system with the strict morals and aristocratic structure of the Dorian states in Greece. Since his home island was then under the tyranny of Polycrates and didn't seem suitable for starting his new government system, he looked to the cities of Magna Græcia, or Southern Italy, which were thriving at the time, with residents eager for knowledge and some already having written laws. He decided to focus on Croton, one of the wealthiest and most prominent of those cities.
Aristocracy was the soul of the Dorian political constitutions, and the towns of Magna Græcia were all Dorian colonies; but in consequence of their extensive commerce the tendency of the people was at that time towards democracy. To preserve the aristocratic principle was the object of Pythagoras; but he wished to make the aristocracy not merely one of birth; he desired that, like the sacerdotal castes of the East, it should also have the supremacy in knowledge. As his system was contrary to the general feeling, Pythagoras saw that it was only by gaining[Pg 10] the veneration of the people that he could carry it into effect; and by his personal advantages of beauty of form, skill in gymnastic exercises, eloquence, and dignity, he drew to himself the popular favour by casting the mantle of mystery over his doctrines. He thus at once inspired the people with awe for them, and the nobles with zeal to become initiated in his secrets.
Aristocracy was the heart of the Dorian political systems, and the cities of Magna Græcia were all Dorian colonies. However, due to their extensive trade, the people were leaning toward democracy at that time. Pythagoras aimed to uphold the aristocratic principle, but he wanted to redefine it beyond just noble birth; he believed it should also be based on knowledge, similar to the priestly classes of the East. Since his views went against the prevailing sentiment, Pythagoras realized he could only implement them by earning the respect of the people. With his natural advantages of good looks, athletic skill, eloquence, and dignity, he gained popular support by surrounding his teachings with an air of mystery. This won him both the people's awe and the nobles' ambition to learn his secrets.
The most perfect success, we are told, attended the project of the philosopher. A total change of manners took place in Croton; the constitution became nearly Spartan; a body of 300 nobles, rendered by the lessons of the sage as superior to the people in knowledge of every kind as they were in birth, ruled over it. The nobles of the other states flocked to Croton to learn how to govern by wisdom; Pythagorean missionaries went about everywhere preaching the new political creed; they inculcated on the people religion, humility, and obedience; such of the nobles as were deemed capable were initiated in the wisdom of the order, and taught its maxims and principles; a golden age, in which power was united with wisdom and virtue, seemed to have begun upon earth.
The philosopher's project was incredibly successful. There was a complete shift in culture in Croton; the government became almost Spartan. A council of 300 nobles, made superior in knowledge by the philosopher’s teachings as much as by their lineage, governed the city. Nobles from other states rushed to Croton to learn how to rule wisely; Pythagorean missionaries traveled everywhere promoting this new political philosophy. They taught the people about faith, humility, and obedience; those nobles considered worthy were inducted into the order and learned its maxims and principles. A golden age, where power was combined with wisdom and virtue, seemed to have started on earth.
But, like every thing which struggles against the spirit of the age, such a political system was not fated to endure. While Croton was the chief seat of Pythagoreanism, luxury had fixed her throne in the neighbouring city of Sybaris. The towns were rivals: one or the other must fall. It was little more than thirty years after the arrival of Pythagoras in Croton that a furious war broke out between them. Led by Milo and other Pythagoreans, who were as expert in military affairs as skilled in philosophy, the Crotoniates utterly annihilated the power of their rivals, and Sybaris sank to rise no more. But with her sank the power of the Pythagoreans. They judged[Pg 11] it inexpedient to give a large share of the booty to the people; the popular discontent rose; Cylon, a man who had been refused admittance into the order, took advantage of it, and urged the people on; the Pythagoreans were all massacred, and a democracy established. All the other towns took example by Croton, a general persecution of the order commenced, and Pythagoras himself was obliged to seek safety in flight, and died far away from the town which once had received him as a prophet. The Pythagoreans never made any further attempts at attaining political power, but became a mere sect of mystic philosophers, distinguished by peculiarities of food and dress.
But, like everything that fights against the spirit of the times, such a political system was not meant to last. While Croton was the center of Pythagoreanism, luxury had established itself in the nearby city of Sybaris. The two towns were rivals, and one of them had to fall. Just over thirty years after Pythagoras arrived in Croton, a fierce war broke out between them. Led by Milo and other Pythagoreans, who were as skilled in military matters as they were in philosophy, the people of Croton completely destroyed their rivals, and Sybaris fell and never rose again. But with it, the power of the Pythagoreans also declined. They decided it was unwise to share a large portion of the spoils with the populace; dissatisfaction grew among the people, and Cylon, a man who had been denied entry into the order, took advantage of the situation and incited the masses. The Pythagoreans were all massacred, and a democracy was established. Other towns followed Croton's example, a widespread persecution of the order began, and Pythagoras himself had to flee for his life, dying far away from the city that once welcomed him as a prophet. The Pythagoreans never attempted to gain political power again, instead becoming a mere sect of mystical philosophers, marked by specific habits in food and dress.
Ancient times present us with no other society of any importance to which we can properly apply the term secret.
Ancient times don’t show us any other significant society where we can accurately use the term secret.
The different sects of the Gnostics, who are by the fathers of the church styled heretics, were to a certain extent secret societies, as they did not propound their doctrines openly and publicly; but their history is so scanty, and so devoid of interest, that an examination of it would offer little to detain ordinary readers.
The various groups of Gnostics, labeled as heretics by the church fathers, were somewhat like secret societies because they didn't share their beliefs openly. However, their history is so limited and uninteresting that looking into it would provide little to capture the attention of regular readers.
The present volume is devoted to the history of three celebrated societies which flourished during the middle ages, and of which, as far as we know, no full and satisfactory account is to be found in English literature. These are the Assassins, or Ismaïlites, of the East, whose name has become in all the languages of Europe synonymous with murderer, who were a secret society, and of whom we have in general such vague and indistinct conceptions; the military order of the Knights Templars, who were most barbarously persecuted under the pretext of their holding a secret doctrine, and against whom the charge has been renewed at the present day; and,[Pg 12] finally, the Secret Tribunals of Westphalia, in Germany, concerning which all our information has hitherto been derived from the incorrect statements of dramatists and romancers[2].
The current volume focuses on the history of three famous societies that thrived in the Middle Ages, of which, as far as we know, no complete and satisfying account exists in English literature. These are the Assassins, or Ismaïlites, of the East, whose name has become synonymous with "murderer" in all European languages, who were a secret society, and about whom we generally have vague and unclear ideas; the military order of the Knights Templars, who were brutally persecuted under the guise of holding a secret doctrine, and against whom the accusations have resurfaced today; and,[Pg 12] finally, the Secret Tribunals of Westphalia in Germany, about which all our information has so far come from the inaccurate accounts of playwrights and novelists[2].
It is the simplicity of truth, and not the excitement of romance, that the reader is to expect to find in the following pages,—pictures of manners and modes of thinking different from our own,—knowledge, not mere entertainment, yet as large an infusion of the latter as is consistent with truth and instruction.
It’s the straightforwardness of truth, not the thrill of romance, that readers should expect in the pages that follow—depictions of customs and ways of thinking that differ from our own—insight, not just entertainment, yet with as much enjoyment as can be balanced with truth and learning.
THE ASSASSINS[3].
Chapter 1.
State of the World in the 7th Century—Western Empire—Eastern Empire—Persia—Arabia—Mohammed—His probable Motives—Character of his Religion—The Koran.
At the commencement of the 7th century of the Christian era a new character was about to be impressed on a large portion of the world. During the two centuries which preceded, the Goths, Vandals, Huns, and other martial tribes of the Germanic race, had succeeded in beating down the barriers opposed to them, and in conquering and dismembering the Western Empire. They brought with them and retained their love of freedom and spirit of dauntless valour, but abandoned their ancient and ferocious superstitions, and embraced the corrupt system which then degraded the name of Christianity. This system, hardened, as it were, by ideas retained and transferred from the original faith of its new disciples, which ideas were fostered by those passages of the books of the Hebrew Scriptures which accorded with their natural sentiments, afterwards, when allied with feudalism, engendered the spirit which poured the hosts of Western Europe over the mountains and plains of Asia for the conquest of the Holy Land.[Pg 14]
At the start of the 7th century of the Christian era, a new influence was about to take hold over a large part of the world. In the two centuries beforehand, the Goths, Vandals, Huns, and other warrior tribes from the Germanic race had managed to break down the barriers in their way, conquering and breaking apart the Western Empire. They carried with them their love of freedom and fearless spirit but left behind their old, brutal superstitions, taking on the corrupt version of Christianity that was prevalent at the time. This version, shaped by the ideas taken from the original faith of its new followers, was supported by the parts of the Hebrew Scriptures that resonated with their natural feelings. Eventually, when this was combined with feudalism, it created the drive that sent the people of Western Europe pouring over the mountains and plains of Asia to conquer the Holy Land.[Pg 14]
A different picture was at this time presented by the empire of the East. It still retained the extent assigned to it by Theodosius; and all the countries from the Danube, round the east and south coasts of the Mediterranean, to the straits of Gades, yielded a more or less perfect obedience to the successors of Constantine. But a despotism more degrading, though less ferocious, than those of Asia paralyzed the patriotism and the energy of their subjects; and the acuteness, the contentiousness, and the imagination of the Greeks, combined with mysticism and the wild fancy of the Asiatics to transform the simplicity of the religion of Christ into a revolting system of intricate metaphysics and gross idolatry, which aided the influence of their political condition in chilling the martial ardour of the people. The various provinces of the empire were held together by the loosest and feeblest connexion, and it was apparent that a vigorous shock would suffice to dissolve the union.
A different situation was presented by the Eastern Empire at this time. It still kept the territory given to it by Theodosius, and all the regions from the Danube, around the eastern and southern coasts of the Mediterranean, to the straits of Gades, showed varying levels of loyalty to the successors of Constantine. However, a more degrading form of despotism, though less brutal than those in Asia, weakened the patriotism and energy of its citizens. The sharpness, the argumentative nature, and the creativity of the Greeks, mixed with the mysticism and wild imagination of the Asiatics, turned the simplicity of Christ's teachings into a disturbing system of complicated metaphysics and blatant idolatry, which further stifled the martial spirit of the people due to their political circumstances. The different provinces of the empire were held together by the loosest and weakest ties, making it clear that a strong blow could easily break the union.
The mountains of Armenia and the course of the Euphrates separated the Eastern Empire from that of Persia. This country had been under the dominion of the people named Parthians at the time when the eagles of the Roman republic first appeared on the Euphrates, and defeat had more than once attended the Roman armies which attempted to enter their confines. Like every dominion not founded on the freedom of the people, that of the Arsacides (the Parthian royal line) grew feeble with time, and after a continuance of nearly five centuries the sceptre of Arsaces passed from the weak hand of the last monarch of his line to that of Ardeshir Babegan (that is the son of Babec), a valiant officer of the royal army, and a pretended descendant of the ancient monarchs of Persia. Ardeshir, to accomplish this revolution, availed himself of the religious prejudices of the Persian people. The Parthian monarchs had[Pg 15] inclined to the manners and the religion of the Greeks, and the Light-religion—the original faith of Persia, and one of the purest and most spiritual of those to which a divine origin may not be assigned—had been held in slight estimation, and its priests unvisited by royal favour. It was the pride and the policy of Ardeshir to restore the ancient religion to the dignity which it had enjoyed under the descendants of Cyrus, and Religion, in return, lent her powerful aid to his plans of restoring the royal dignity to its pristine vigour, and of infusing into the breast of the people the love of country and the ardour for extending the Persian dominion to what it had been of old; and for 400 years the Sassanides[4] were the most formidable enemies of the Roman empire. But their dominion had, at the period of which we write, nearly attained the greatest limit allotted to Oriental dynasties; and though Noosheerwan the Just had attained great warlike fame, and governed with a vigour and justice that have made his name proverbial in the East, and Khoosroo Purveez displayed a magnificence which is still the theme of Persian poetry and romance, and carried his victorious arms over Syria and Egypt, and further along the African coast than even those of Darius I. had been able to advance, yet defeat from the gallant Emperor Heraclius clouded his latter days, and the thirteenth year after his death, by showing the Persian armies in flight, and the palladium of the empire, the jewel-set apron of the blacksmith Kawah, in the hands of the rovers of the deserts, revealed the secret that her strength[Pg 16] was departed from Persia. The brilliancy of the early part of the reign of Khoosroo Purveez had been but the flash before death which at times is displayed in empires as in individuals. The vigour was gone which was requisite to stem the torrent of fanatic valour about to burst forth from the wilds of Arabia.
The mountains of Armenia and the Euphrates River separated the Eastern Empire from Persia. At the time when Roman eagles first appeared on the Euphrates, this region was under the control of the Parthians, and Roman armies faced defeat more than once while trying to enter their territory. Like any rule not based on the people's freedom, that of the Arsacides (the Parthian royal family) weakened over time, and after nearly five centuries, the scepter of Arsaces passed from the frail hands of the last monarch of that lineage to Ardeshir Babegan (the son of Babec), a brave officer in the royal army and a claimed descendant of the ancient Persian kings. To make this change happen, Ardeshir took advantage of the religious beliefs of the Persian people. The Parthian kings had adopted Greek customs and religion, while the Light-religion—the original faith of Persia, and one of the purest and most spiritual religions not attributed to divine origins—was viewed with disdain, and its priests were neglected by the royal court. Ardeshir took pride in and aimed to restore the ancient religion to the honor it once had under the descendants of Cyrus, and in return, Religion supported his efforts to revive royal authority and instill in the people a love for their country and a desire to expand Persian dominion back to its former glory. For 400 years, the Sassanids were the most powerful foes of the Roman Empire. However, by the time we are discussing, their rule had nearly reached the maximum limit typical for Eastern dynasties. Although Noosheerwan the Just gained great military fame and ruled with strength and fairness that made his name legendary in the East, and Khoosroo Purveez showcased a splendor that continues to inspire Persian poetry and storytelling, carrying his victorious forces into Syria and Egypt, and even further along the African coast than Darius I ever did, his later years were overshadowed by defeat at the hands of the brave Emperor Heraclius. In the thirteenth year after his death, the sight of Persian armies retreating and the paladium of the empire, the jewel-encrusted apron of the blacksmith Kawah, falling into the hands of desert raiders revealed that Persia had lost its strength. The brilliance of the early reign of Khoosroo Purveez had been just a fleeting spark before the inevitable decline that sometimes befalls empires as it does individuals. The vigor necessary to withstand the fierce onslaught about to emerge from the deserts of Arabia was gone.
It is the boast of Arabia that it has never been conquered. This immunity from subjugation has, however, been only partial, and is owing to the nature of the country; for although the barren sands of the Hejaz and Nejed have always baffled the efforts of hostile armies, yet the more inviting region of Yemen, the Happy Arabia of the ancients, has more than once allured a conqueror, and submitted to his sway. The inhabitants of this country have been the same in blood and in manners from the dawn of history. Brave, but not sanguinary, robbers, but kind and hospitable, of lively and acute intellect, we find the Arabs, from the days of Abraham to the present times, leading the pastoral and nomadic life in the desert, agriculturists in Yemen, traders on the coasts and on the confines of Syria and Egypt. Their foreign military operations had hitherto been confined to plundering expeditions into the last-mentioned countries, unless they were the Hycsos, or Shepherd Kings, who, according to tradition, once made the conquest of Egypt. Arabia forming a kind of world in itself, its various tribes were in ceaseless hostility with each other; but it was apparent that if its brave and skilful horsemen could be united under one head, and animated by motives which would inspire constancy and rouse valour, they might present a force capable of giving a fatal shock to the empires of Persia and of Rome.
It’s a point of pride for Arabia that it has never been fully conquered. However, this resistance to being controlled has only been partial and is due to the country’s landscape; while the barren sands of Hejaz and Nejed have always thwarted enemy armies, the more attractive region of Yemen, known as the Happy Arabia of ancient times, has often drawn conquerors and submitted to their rule. The people of this land have remained the same in blood and customs since the beginning of history. They are brave, but not brutal; they are robbers but kind and hospitable. The Arabs, from the days of Abraham to today, live a pastoral and nomadic life in the desert, farm in Yemen, and trade along the coasts and borders of Syria and Egypt. Their previous military actions were mainly limited to raiding expeditions into the latter, unless they were the Hyksos, or Shepherd Kings, who, according to tradition, once conquered Egypt. Arabia exists like a world of its own, with its various tribes in constant conflict with each other; yet it was clear that if its brave and skilled horsemen could unite under one leader and be inspired by motives that would encourage loyalty and bravery, they could form a force strong enough to deliver a significant blow to the empires of Persia and Rome.
It is impossible, on taking a survey of the history of the world, not to recognize a great predisposing[Pg 17] cause, which appoints the time and circumstances of every event which is to produce any considerable change in the state of human affairs. The agency of this overruling providence is nowhere more perceptible than in the present instance. The time was come for the Arabs to leave their deserts and march to the conquest of the world, and the man was born who was to inspire them with the necessary motives.
It’s impossible, when looking at the history of the world, not to see a major underlying cause that determines the timing and circumstances of every event that leads to significant changes in human affairs. The influence of this higher power is nowhere more evident than in this situation. The time had come for the Arabs to leave their deserts and march on to conquer the world, and the person was born who would inspire them with the motivation they needed.
Mohammed (Illustrious[5]) was the son of Abd-Allah (Servant of God), a noble Arab of the tribe of Koreish, which had the guardianship of the Kaaba (Square House of Mecca), the Black Stone contained in which (probably an aerolite) had been for ages an object of religious veneration to the tribes of Arabia. His mother was Amineh, the daughter of a chief of princely rank. He was early left an orphan, with the slender patrimony of five camels and a female Æthiopian slave. His uncle, Aboo Talib, brought him up. At an early age the young Mohammed accompanied his uncle to the fair of Bozra, on the verge of Syria, and in his 18th year he signalized his valour in an engagement between the Koreish and a hostile tribe. At the age of 25 he entered the service of Khadijah, a wealthy widow, with whose merchandise he visited one of the great fairs of Syria. Mohammed, though poor, was noble, handsome, acute, and brave; Khadijah, who was fifteen years his senior, was inspired with love; her passion was returned; and the[Pg 18] gift of her hand and wealth gave the nephew of Aboo Talib affluence and consideration.
Mohammed (Illustrious[5]) was the son of Abd-Allah (Servant of God), a noble Arab from the Koreish tribe, which was responsible for the care of the Kaaba (Square House of Mecca). The Black Stone, contained within it (likely a meteorite), had long been an object of religious reverence among the tribes of Arabia. His mother was Amineh, the daughter of a high-ranking chief. He was orphaned at a young age, inheriting only five camels and a female Ethiopian slave. His uncle, Aboo Talib, raised him. As a young man, Mohammed accompanied his uncle to the fair at Bozra, near Syria, and during his 18th year, he distinguished himself in a battle between the Koreish and a rival tribe. At 25, he began working for Khadijah, a wealthy widow, and helped her trade at one of the major fairs in Syria. Although Mohammed was poor, he was noble, handsome, sharp, and brave; Khadijah, who was fifteen years older than him, fell in love, and her feelings were mutual. Her hand in marriage and wealth brought Aboo Talib's nephew both prosperity and respect.
Mohammed's original turn of mind appears to have been serious, and it is not unlikely that the great truth of the Unity of the Deity had been early impressed on his mind by his mother or his Jewish kindred. The Koreish and the rest of his countrymen were idolaters; Christianity was now corrupted by the intermixture of many superstitions; the fire-worship of the Persians was a worshipping of the Deity under a material form; the Mosaic religion had been debased by the dreams and absurd distinctions of the Rabbis. A simpler form than any of these seemed wanted for man. God, moreover, was believed to have at sundry times sent prophets into the world for its reformation, and might do so again; the Jews still looked for their promised Messiah; many Christians held that the Paraclete was yet to come. Who can take upon him to assert that Mohammed may not have believed himself to be set apart to the service of God, and appointed by the divine decree to be the preacher of a purer faith than any which he then saw existing? Who will say that in his annual seclusions of fifteen days in the cave of Hira he may not have fallen into ecstatic visions, and that in one of these waking dreams the angel Gabriel may not have appeared to his distempered fancy to descend to nominate him to the office of a prophet of God, and present to him, in a visible form, that portion of his future law which had probably already passed through his mind[6]?[Pg 19] A certain portion of self-delusion is always mingled with successful imposture; the impostor, as it were, makes his first experiment on himself. It is much more reasonable to conclude that Mohammed had at first no other object than the dissemination of truth by persuasion, and that he may have beguiled himself into a belief of his being the instrument selected for that purpose, than that the citizen of a town in the secluded region of Arabia beheld in ambitious vision from his mountain-cave his victorious banners waving on the banks of the Oxus and the Ebro, and his name saluted as that of the Prophet of God by a fourth part of the human race. Still we must not pass by another, and perhaps a truer supposition, namely, that, in the mind of Mohammed, as in that of so many others, the end justified the means, and that he deemed it lawful to feign a vision and a commission from God in order to procure from men a hearing for the truth.
Mohammed's initial way of thinking seemed to be serious, and it's quite possible that the core truth of the oneness of God was instilled in him early on by his mother or his Jewish relatives. The Koreish and the rest of his fellow countrymen were idol worshippers; Christianity had now become mixed with various superstitions; the Persians' fire worship represented a material form of worshiping God; the Mosaic faith had been corrupted by the bizarre ideas and distinctions of the Rabbis. A simpler version than any of these seemed necessary for people. Moreover, it was believed that God had sent prophets into the world at different times for its reform and could do so again; the Jews were still awaiting their promised Messiah; many Christians believed that the Paraclete was yet to come. Who can confidently say that Mohammed didn’t believe he was chosen for God’s service, appointed by divine will to preach a purer faith than what existed at the time? Who can claim that during his fifteen-day annual retreats in the cave of Hira, he didn’t experience ecstatic visions, and that in one of those waking dreams, the angel Gabriel didn’t appear to him in a disturbed state of mind to appoint him as a prophet of God and present to him, in a tangible form, that part of his future law that had likely already crossed his mind[6]?[Pg 19] There is always some level of self-deception mixed with successful deception; an impostor often runs their first experiment on themselves. It makes more sense to think that Mohammed initially aimed only to spread the truth through persuasion and that he might have tricked himself into believing he was the chosen instrument for that purpose, rather than envisioning from his mountain cave in that remote region of Arabia his victorious banners flying by the banks of the Oxus and the Ebro, being recognized as the Prophet of God by one-fourth of the human race. Still, we shouldn't overlook another, possibly truer, possibility that in Mohammed's mind, as in many others, the end justified the means, and he believed it was acceptable to pretend to have a vision and a divine commission in order to get people to listen to the truth.
Whatever the ideas and projects of Mohammed may originally have been, he waited till he had attained his fortieth year (the age at which Moses showed himself first to the Israelites), and then revealed his divine commission to his wife Khadijah, his slave Zeid, his cousin Ali, the son of Aboo Talib, and his friend, the virtuous and wealthy Aboo Bekr. It is difficult to conceive any motive but conviction to have operated on the minds of these[Pg 20] different persons, who at once acknowledged his claim to the prophetic office; and it speaks not a little for the purity of the previous life of the new Prophet, that he could venture to claim the faith of those who were most intimately acquainted with him. The voice of wisdom has assured us that a prophet has no honour in his own country and among his own kindred, and the example of Mohammed testified the truth of the declaration. During thirteen years the new religion made but slow and painful progress in the town of Mecca; but the people of Yathreb, a town afterwards dignified with the appellation of the City of the Prophet (Medinat-en-Nabi), were more susceptive of faith; and when, on the death of Aboo Talib, who protected his nephew, though he rejected his claims, his celebrated Flight (Hejra) brought him to Yathreb, the people of that town took arms in his defence against the Koreish. It was probably now that new views opened to the mind of the Prophet. Prince of Yathreb, he might hope to extend his sway over the ungrateful Mecca; and those who had scoffed at his arguments and persuasions might be taught lessons of wisdom by the sword. These anticipations were correct, and in less than ten years after the battle of Bedr (the first he fought) he saw his temporal power and his prophetic character acknowledged by the whole of the Arabian peninsula.
Whatever the ideas and projects of Mohammed may have originally been, he waited until he turned forty (the age when Moses first appeared to the Israelites) and then revealed his divine mission to his wife Khadijah, his slave Zeid, his cousin Ali, the son of Aboo Talib, and his friend, the virtuous and wealthy Aboo Bekr. It’s hard to imagine any motive other than conviction influencing these[Pg 20] different individuals, who immediately accepted his claim to be a prophet; and it speaks volumes about the integrity of the new Prophet's previous life that he felt confident claiming the faith of those who knew him best. The voice of wisdom tells us that a prophet is not respected in his own homeland and among his own family, and Mohammed’s experience confirmed this truth. For thirteen years, the new religion made slow and difficult progress in Mecca; however, the people of Yathreb, a town later honored with the title City of the Prophet (Medinat-en-Nabi), were more open to faith. When Aboo Talib, who defended his nephew despite rejecting his claims, passed away, Mohammed's famous Flight (Hejra) brought him to Yathreb, where the townspeople took up arms to defend him against the Koreish. It was likely at this point that new possibilities opened up for the Prophet. As the leader of Yathreb, he could hope to extend his influence over ungrateful Mecca, and those who had mocked his arguments might learn wisdom through force. These expectations proved accurate, and in less than ten years after the Battle of Bedr (the first battle he fought), he saw his temporal power and prophetic role recognized throughout the Arabian peninsula.
It commonly happens that, when a new form of religion is proposed for the acceptance of mankind, it surpasses in purity that which it is intended to supersede. The Arabs of the days of Mohammed were idolaters; 300 is said to have been the number of the images which claimed their adoration in the Caaba. A gross licentiousness prevailed among them; their polygamy had no limits assigned to it[7].[Pg 21] For this the Prophet substituted the worship of One God, and placed a check on the sensual propensities of his people. His religion contained descriptions of the future state of rewards and punishments, by which he allured to obedience and terrified from contumacy or opposition. The pains of hell which he menaced were such as were most offensive to the body and its organs; the joys of Paradise were verdant meads, shady trees, murmuring brooks, gentle airs, precious wines in cups of gold and silver, stately tents, and splendid sofas; the melody of the songs of angels was to ravish the souls of the blessed; the black-eyed Hoories were to be the ever-blooming brides of the faithful servants of God. Yet, though sensual bliss was to be his ultimate reward, the votary was taught that its attainment demanded self-denial on earth; and it has been justly observed that "a devout Mussulman exhibits more of the Stoical than of the Epicurean character[8]." As the Prophet had resolved that the sword should be unsparingly employed for the diffusion of the truth, the highest degree of the future bliss was pronounced to be the portion of the martyrs, i. e., of those who fell in the holy wars waged for the dissemination of the faith. "Paradise," says the Prophet, "is beneath the shadow of swords." At the[Pg 22] day of judgment the wounds of the fallen warrior were to be resplendent as vermilion, and odoriferous as musk; and the wings of angels were to supply the loss of limbs. The religion of Mohammed was entitled Islam (resignation), whence its votaries were called by the Arabs Moslems, and in Persian Mussulmans. Its articles of belief were five—belief in God, in his angels, in his Prophet, in the last day, and in predestination. Its positive duties were also five—purification, prayer, fasting, alms, and the pilgrimage to Mecca. Various rites and observances which the Arabs had hitherto practised were retained by the Prophet, either out of regard for the prejudices of his followers, or because he did not, or could not, divest his own mind of respect for usages in which he had been reared up from infancy.
It often happens that when a new religion is introduced, it is more pure than the one it aims to replace. The Arabs during Mohammed's time were idol worshippers; it's said there were 300 different images they worshipped in the Caaba. They lived in gross immorality; their polygamy had no limits. For this, the Prophet introduced the worship of one God and constrained the sexual urges of his people. His religion included descriptions of rewards and punishments in the afterlife, enticing followers to obey while scaring them away from disobedience or rebellion. The torments of hell he warned about were the most painful for the body and its senses; the delights of Paradise included lush meadows, shady trees, flowing streams, gentle breezes, fine wines in gold and silver cups, grand tents, and luxurious sofas; the beautiful songs of angels were meant to captivate the souls of the blessed; and the dark-eyed Hoories were to be the eternal brides of God's faithful servants. However, even though ultimate pleasure was promised as a reward, followers were taught that achieving it required self-control in this life; as has been rightly noted, "a devout Muslim shows more Stoic than Epicurean traits." Since the Prophet decided that the sword should be used without restraint to spread the truth, the highest level of future bliss was declared to belong to martyrs, or those who died in holy wars fought to spread the faith. "Paradise," the Prophet said, "is under the shadow of swords." On the day of judgment, the wounds of fallen warriors were said to shine like bright red and smell sweet like musk; and the wings of angels would replace any lost limbs. Mohammed's religion was called Islam (which means “submission”), and its followers were referred to by the Arabs as Moslems, and in Persian as Mussulmans. Its five beliefs were: belief in God, in his angels, in his Prophet, in the last day, and in predestination. Its five main duties were purification, prayer, fasting, charity, and the pilgrimage to Mecca. The Prophet retained various customs and practices that the Arabs had followed, either to respect the beliefs of his followers or because he couldn’t shake off the traditions he had grown up with.
Such is a slight sketch of the religion which Mohammed substituted for the idolatry of Arabia. It contained little that was original; all its details of the future state were borrowed from Judaism or from the Magian system of Persia. The book which contains it, entitled the Koran (reading), was composed in detached pieces, during a long series of years, by the illiterate Prophet, and taken down from his lips by his scribes. His own account of its origin was that each Sura, or revelation, was brought to him from heaven by the angel Gabriel. It is regarded by the Mohammedan East, and by most European Orientalists, as the masterpiece of Arabian literature; and when we make due allowance for the difference of European and Arabian models and taste, and consider that the rhyme[9] which in prose is insufferable to the former, may to the latter sound grateful, we may allow that the praises lavished on it are not[Pg 23] unmerited. Though tedious and often childish legends, and long and tiresome civil regulations, occupy the greater part of it, it is pervaded by a fine strain of fervid piety and humble resignation to the will of God, not unworthy of the inspired seers of Israel; and the sublime doctrine of the Unity of God runs like a vein of pure gold through each portion of the mass, giving lustre and dignity to all. Might we not venture to say that Christianity itself has derived advantage from the imposture of Mohammed, and that the clear and open profession of the Divine Unity by their Mohammedan enemies kept the Christians of the dark ages from smothering it beneath the mass of superstition and fable by which they corrupted and deformed so much of the majestic simplicity of the Gospel? No one, certainly, would dream of comparing the son of Abd-Allah with the Son of God, of setting darkness by the side of light; but still we may confess him to have been an agent in the hands of the Almighty, and admit that his assumption of the prophetic office was productive of good as well as of evil.
Here’s a brief overview of the religion that Mohammed introduced to replace the idolatry of Arabia. It had little original content; most of its ideas about the afterlife were taken from Judaism or the Magian beliefs of Persia. The book that contains it, called the Koran (reading), was written in separate pieces over many years by the illiterate Prophet and recorded by his scribes. He claimed that each Sura, or revelation, was delivered to him from heaven by the angel Gabriel. It's considered by the Muslim world and many European Orientalists to be the finest work of Arabian literature. When we take into account the differences between European and Arabian styles and tastes, and realize that the rhyme[9] that seems unbearable in prose to Europeans might be quite pleasing to Arab audiences, we can agree that the praise given to it is not[Pg 23] undeserved. Although it has tedious and often naive stories, as well as long and dull civil laws, it is infused with a strong sense of passionate faith and humble acceptance of God’s will, not unworthy of the inspired prophets of Israel. The profound doctrine of the Unity of God runs like a thread of pure gold throughout the entire work, adding brilliance and dignity to it all. Could we not suggest that Christianity has actually benefited from Mohammed's deceit, and that the clear and public declaration of Divine Unity by their Muslim opponents helped prevent Christians during the dark ages from burying it under the weight of superstition and myths that distorted much of the Gospel's majestic simplicity? No one would understandably equate the son of Abd-Allah with the Son of God, or place darkness next to light; yet we can acknowledge that he was a tool in the hands of the Almighty and concede that his claim to prophetic status brought about both good and bad outcomes.
The Mohammedan religion is so intimately connected with history, law, manners, and opinions, in the part of the East of which we are about to write, that this brief view of its origin and nature was indispensable. We now proceed to our history.
The Islamic religion is so closely linked with history, law, customs, and beliefs in the part of the East that we are going to discuss, that this brief overview of its origins and characteristics was essential. We now move on to our history.
Chapter 2.
Origin of the Khalifat—The first Khalifs—Extent of the Arabian Empire—Schism among the Mohammedans—Soonees and Sheähs—Sects of the latter—The Keissanee—The Zeidites—The Ghoollat—The Imamee—Sects of the Imamee—Their political Character—The Carmathites—Origin of the Fatimite Khalifs—Secret Society at Cairo—Doctrines taught in it—Its Decline.
The civil and ecclesiastical dignities were united in the person of Mohammed. As Emir (prince) he administered justice and led his followers to battle; as Imam (director) he on every Friday (the Mohammedan sabbath) taught the principles and duties of religion from his pulpit. Though his wives were numerous, the Prophet had no male issue surviving at the time when he felt the approaches of death; but his daughter Fatima was married to his cousin Ali, his early and faithful disciple, and it was naturally to be expected that the expiring voice of the Prophet would nominate him as his Khalif (successor) over the followers of his faith. But Ayesha, the daughter of Aboo Bekr, Mohammed's youthful and best beloved wife, was vehemently hostile to the son of Aboo Talib, and she may have exerted all the influence of a revengeful woman over the mind of the dying Prophet. Or perhaps Mohammed, like Alexander, perplexed with the extent of dominion to which he had attained, and aware that only a vigour of character similar to his own would avail to retain and enlarge it, and, it may be, thinking himself[Pg 25] answerable to God for the choice he should make, deemed it the safest course to leave the matter to the free decision of his surviving followers. His appointing Aboo Bekr, a few days before his death, to officiate in his pulpit, might seem to indicate an intention of conferring the khalifat on him; and he is said to have at one time declared that the strength of character displayed by his distinguished follower, Omar, evinced his possession of the virtues of a prophet and a khalif. Tradition records no equally strong declaration respecting the mild and virtuous Ali.
The civil and religious authorities were combined in the person of Mohammed. As Emir (prince), he administered justice and led his followers into battle; as Imam (director), he taught the principles and responsibilities of religion every Friday (the Muslim sabbath) from his pulpit. Although he had many wives, the Prophet had no surviving sons at the time when he sensed his impending death; however, his daughter Fatima was married to his cousin Ali, one of his early and loyal followers, and it was naturally expected that the final words of the Prophet would choose him as his Khalif (successor) over the followers of his faith. But Ayesha, the daughter of Abu Bekr, Mohammed's young and beloved wife, was strongly opposed to the son of Abu Talib, and she may have used all the influence of a vengeful woman on the mind of the dying Prophet. Or perhaps Mohammed, like Alexander, confused by the vastness of the empire he had built and knowing that only someone with a strong character like his own could sustain and expand it, and possibly believing he was answerable to God for the choice he should make, thought it safest to leave the decision to the free will of his remaining followers. His appointment of Abu Bekr, just days before his death, to lead in his pulpit might suggest he intended to confer the khalifat on him; and he is said to have once remarked that the strength of character shown by his notable follower, Omar, demonstrated he had the qualities of both a prophet and a khalif. Tradition does not record an equally strong statement regarding the gentle and virtuous Ali.
At all events the Prophet expired without having named a successor, and the choice devolving on his companions dissension was ready to break out, when Omar, abandoning his own claims, gave his voice for Aboo Bekr. All opposition was thus silenced, and the father of Ayesha reigned for two years over the faithful. Ali at first refused obedience, but he finally acknowledged the successor of the Prophet. When dying, Aboo Bekr bequeathed the sceptre to Omar, as the worthiest, and when, twelve years afterwards, Omar perished by the dagger of an assassin, six electors conferred the vacant dignity on Othman, who had been the secretary of the Prophet. Age having enfeebled the powers of Othman, the reins of authority were slackened, and a spirit of discord pervaded all Arabia, illustrative of the Prophet's declaration of vigour being essential to a khalif. A numerous body of rebels besieged the aged Othman in Medina, and he was slain, holding the Koran in his lap, by a band of murderers, headed by the brother of Ayesha, who, the firebrand of Islam, it is probable had been secretly active in exciting the rebellion.
At any rate, the Prophet died without choosing a successor, and as his companions faced the decision, arguments were about to erupt. However, Omar set aside his own ambitions and backed Aboo Bekr. This put an end to any opposition, and Aboo Bekr ruled over the faithful for two years. Initially, Ali refused to accept this, but he eventually recognized the Prophet's successor. Before his death, Aboo Bekr passed the leadership to Omar, whom he deemed the most deserving. Twelve years later, when Omar was killed by an assassin's dagger, six electors chose Othman, who had served as the Prophet's secretary, to take over the position. As Othman aged and weakened, control slipped, leading to widespread dissent across Arabia, confirming the Prophet's statement that strong leadership was crucial for a khalif. A large group of rebels laid siege to the elderly Othman in Medina, and he was killed while holding the Koran in his lap by a group of attackers led by Ayesha's brother, who likely played a secretive role in instigating the rebellion.
The popular choice now fell upon Ali, but the implacable Ayesha stimulated to revolt against his[Pg 26] authority two powerful Arab chiefs, named Telha and Zobeir, who raised their standards in the province of Arabian Irak. Ayesha, mounted on a camel, appeared in the thickest of the battle, in which the rebel chiefs were defeated and slain. The generous Ali sent her to dwell at the tomb of the Prophet, where she passed in tranquillity the remainder of her days. The khalif himself was less fortunate. Moawiya, the Governor of Syria, son of Aboo Sofian, the most violent of the opponents of the Prophet, assumed the office of the avenger of Othman, whose death he charged on Ali and his party, and, declaring himself to be the rightful khalif, roused Syria to arms against the Prophet's son-in-law. In the war success was on the side of Ali, till the superstition of his troops obliged him to agree to a treaty; and shortly afterwards he was murdered by a fanatic in the mosk of Coofa. His son Hassan was induced by Moawiya to resign his claims and retire to the city of Medina; but his more high-spirited brother, Hussein, took arms against the khalif Yezid, the son of Moawiya; and the narrative of his death is one of the most pathetic and best related incidents of Oriental history[10]. The sisters and children of Hussein were spared by the clemency of the victorious Yezid, and from them descend a numerous race, glorying in the blood of Ali and the Prophet.
The popular choice now turned to Ali, but the unyielding Ayesha stirred up rebellion against his[Pg 26] authority by rallying two powerful Arab leaders, Telha and Zobeir, who raised their banners in Arabian Irak. Ayesha, riding a camel, charged into the heart of the battle where the rebel leaders were defeated and killed. The generous Ali sent her to live at the Prophet's tomb, where she spent the rest of her days in peace. The khalif himself had less luck. Moawiya, the Governor of Syria and son of Aboo Sofian, a fierce opponent of the Prophet, took on the role of avenger for Othman, blaming Ali and his followers for his death. He declared himself the rightful khalif and rallied Syria to fight against the Prophet's son-in-law. Initially, Ali had the upper hand in the war, but the superstitions of his troops forced him into agreeing to a treaty; shortly after, he was assassinated by a fanatic in the mosque of Coofa. His son Hassan was persuaded by Moawiya to give up his claims and retreat to Medina, but his more daring brother, Hussein, took up arms against Khalif Yezid, Moawiya’s son. The story of his death is one of the most tragic and well-documented events in Oriental history[10]. The sisters and children of Hussein were spared by the mercy of the victorious Yezid, and they gave rise to a large lineage, proud of their connection to Ali and the Prophet.
The Arabian empire was now of immense extent. Egypt, Syria, and Persia had been conquered in the reign of Omar. Under the first khalifs of the dynasty of the Ommiades (so called from Ommiyah, the great-grandfather of Moawiya), the conquest of Africa and Spain was achieved, and the later princes of this family ruled over the most extensive empire of the world.[Pg 27]
The Arabian empire was now vast. Egypt, Syria, and Persia had been conquered during Omar's reign. Under the first caliphs of the Omayyad dynasty (named after Ommiyah, the great-grandfather of Moawiya), Africa and Spain were conquered, and the later leaders of this family governed the largest empire in the world.[Pg 27]
The great schism of the Mohammedan church (we must be permitted to employ this term, the only one our language affords) commences with the accession of the house of Ommiyah. The Mohammedans have, as is generally known, been from that time to the present day divided into two great sects, the Soonees and the Sheähs, the orthodox and the dissenters, as we might venture to call them, whose opposite doctrines, like those of the Catholics and the Protestants of the Christian church, are each the established faith of great and independent nations. The Ottoman and the Usbeg Turks hold the Soonee faith; the Persians are violent Sheähs; and national and religious animosity concur in making them the determined and inveterate foes of each other.
The great split in the Muslim community (we should be allowed to use this term, as it's the only one our language provides) begins with the rise of the Umayyad dynasty. Muslims have, as is widely known, been divided into two main sects since then: the Sunnis and the Shia, the main group and the dissenters, as we might call them, whose differing beliefs, similar to those of Catholics and Protestants in Christianity, each represent the established faiths of significant and independent nations. The Ottoman and Uzbek Turks follow the Sunni faith; the Persians are staunch Shia. National and religious rivalry fuels their deep-seated and persistent enmity towards one another.
The Soonees hold that the first four khalifs were all legitimate successors of the Prophet; but as their order was determined by their degree of sanctity, they assign the lowest rank to Ali. The Sheähs, on the contrary, maintain that the dignity of the Prophet rightfully descended to the son of his uncle and the husband of his daughter. They therefore regard Aboo Bekr, Omar, and Othman, as usurpers, and curse and revile their memory, more especially that of the rigid Omar, whose murderer they venerate as a saint. It must be steadily kept in mind, in every discussion respecting the Mohammedan religion, that Mohammed and his successors succeeded in establishing what the lofty and capacious mind of Gregory VII. attempted in vain—the union of the civil and ecclesiastical powers in the same person. Unlike the schisms of the eastern and western, of the Catholic and Protestant churches, which originated in difference of opinion on points of discipline or matters of doctrine, that of the Mohammedans arose solely from ambition and the struggle for temporal power. The sceptre of the greatest empire of[Pg 28] the world was to be the reward of the party who could gain the greatest number of believers in his right to grasp the staff and ascend the pulpit of the Prophet of God. Afterwards, when the learning of the Greeks and the Persians became familiar to the Arabs, theological and metaphysical niceties and distinctions were introduced, and the two great stems of religion threw out numerous sectarian branches. The Soonees are divided into four main sects, all of which are, however, regarded as orthodox, for they agree in the main points, though they differ in subordinate ones. The division of the Sheähs is also into four sects, the point of agreement being the assertion of the right of Ali and his descendants to the imamat, or supreme ecclesiastical dignity; the point of difference being the nature of the proof on which his rights are founded, and the order of succession among his descendants. These four sects and their opinions are as follows:—
The Sunnis believe that the first four caliphs were all legitimate successors of the Prophet; however, since their rank was based on their holiness, they place Ali at the lowest level. On the other hand, the Shia assert that the Prophet’s dignity rightfully passed to his cousin and son-in-law. Thus, they view Abu Bakr, Omar, and Othman as usurpers and curse their memory, especially that of the strict Omar, whose killer they honor as a saint. It's important to remember in any discussion about the Islamic faith that Mohammed and his successors managed to achieve what the brilliant Gregory VII could not—the unification of civil and religious authority in one person. Unlike the splits seen in Eastern and Western churches, or between Catholic and Protestant beliefs which arose from disagreements over discipline or doctrine, the Islamic divide was solely due to ambition and the quest for political power. The control of the largest empire in the world was the prize for the faction that could convince the most people of their right to take the Prophet's place and lead in his name. Later, as the knowledge from the Greeks and Persians became known to the Arabs, theological and philosophical complexities started to emerge, leading to numerous sects branching out from the two major religious factions. The Sunnis are split into four main sects, all of which are generally considered orthodox, as they agree on the main issues but differ on lesser points. The Shia also split into four sects, united by their claim that Ali and his descendants have the right to the imamate, or highest religious authority; their disagreement lies in the evidence supporting those rights and the order of succession among his descendants. These four sects and their beliefs are as follows:—
I. The first and most innocuous of the sects which maintained the rights of the family of Ali were the Keissanee, so named from Keissan, one of his freed-men. These, who were subdivided into several branches, held that Ali's rights descended, not to Hassan or Hussein, but to their brother, Mohammed-ben-Hanfee. One of these branch-sects maintained that the imamat remained[11] in the person of this Mohammed, who had never died, but had since appeared, from time to time, on earth, under various names. Another branch, named the Hashemites, held that the imamat descended from Mohammed-ben-Hanfee to his son Aboo-Hashem, who transmitted it to Mohammed, of the family of Abbas, from whom it descended to Saffah, the founder of the Abbasside dynasty of khalifs[12]. It is quite evident[Pg 29] that the object of this sect was to give a colour to the claims of the family of Abbas, who stigmatized the family of Ommiyah as usurpers, and insisted that the khalifat belonged of right to themselves. Aboo-Moslem, the great general who first gave dominion to the family of Abbas, was a real or pretended maintainer of the tenets of this sect, the only branch, by the way, of the Sheähs which supported the house of Abbas.
I. The first and seemingly harmless of the groups that supported the rights of Ali's family were the Keissanee, named after Keissan, one of his freedmen. These groups, which were divided into several branches, believed that Ali's rights did not pass to Hassan or Hussein, but to their brother, Mohammed-ben-Hanfee. One of these branches claimed that the imamat remained[11] with Mohammed, who had never died but had periodically returned to Earth under various names. Another branch, called the Hashemites, believed that the imamat passed from Mohammed-ben-Hanfee to his son Aboo-Hashem, who then transmitted it to Mohammed from the family of Abbas, which eventually passed down to Saffah, the founder of the Abbasside dynasty of khalifs[12]. It is quite clear[Pg 29] that this sect aimed to legitimize the claims of the Abbas family, who labeled the family of Ommiyah as usurpers and asserted that the khalifat rightfully belonged to them. Aboo-Moslem, the great general who first granted power to the Abbas family, was either a genuine or pretended supporter of this sect’s beliefs, which, by the way, was the only branch of the Sheähs that backed the Abbas house.
II. A second branch of the Sheähs was named Zeidites. These held that the imamat descended through Hassan and Hussein to Zein-al-Abedeen, the son of this last, and thence passed to Zeid (whence their name), the son of Zein; whereas most other Sheähs regarded Mohammed Bakir, the brother of Zeid, as the lawful imam. The Zeidites differed from the other Sheähs in acknowledging the three first khalifs to have been legitimate successors of the Prophet. Edris, who wrested a part of Africa from the Abbasside khalifs, and founded the kingdom of Fez, was a real or pretended descendant of Zeid.
II. A second branch of the Shia was called the Zeidites. They believed that leadership (imamat) passed down from Hassan and Hussein to Zein-al-Abedeen, the son of the latter, and then to Zeid (which is where their name comes from), the son of Zein; while most other Shia viewed Mohammed Bakir, Zeid's brother, as the rightful imam. The Zeidites were unique among the Shia in that they recognized the first three caliphs as legitimate successors of the Prophet. Edris, who took a part of Africa from the Abbasid caliphs and established the kingdom of Fez, was either a genuine or claimed descendant of Zeid.
III. The Ghoollat (Ultras), so named from the extravagance of their doctrines, which, passing all bounds of common sense, were held in equal abomination by the other Sheähs and by the Soonees. This sect is said to have existed as early as the time of Ali himself, who is related to have burnt some of them on account of their impious and extravagant[Pg 30] opinions. They held, as we are told, that there was but one imam, and they ascribed the qualities of divinity to Ali. Some maintained that there were two natures (the divine and the human) in him, others that the last alone was his. Some again said that this perfect nature of Ali passed by transmigration through his descendants, and would continue so to do till the end of all things; others that the transmission stopped with Mohammed Bakir, the son of Zein-al-Abedeen, who still abode on earth, but unseen, like Khizer, the Guardian of the Well of Life, according to the beautiful eastern legend[13]. Others, still more bold, denied the transmission, and asserted that the divine Ali sat enthroned in the clouds, where the thunder was the voice and the lightning the scourge wherewith he terrified and chastised the wicked. This sect presents the first (though a very early) instance of the introduction into Islam of that mysticism which appears to have had its original[Pg 31] birth-place in the dreamy groves of India. As a political party the Ghoollat never seem to have been formidable.
III. The Ghoollat (Ultras), named for the extreme nature of their beliefs, which defied common sense and were equally rejected by other Sheähs and Soonees. This sect is said to have existed as early as the time of Ali himself, who reportedly burned some of them for their irreverent and outrageous views[Pg 30]. They believed, as we are told, that there was only one imam, and they attributed divine qualities to Ali. Some claimed he had two natures (divine and human), while others argued he was only human. Some even said that Ali's perfect nature passed through his descendants via reincarnation and would keep doing so until the end of time; others believed that this transmission stopped with Mohammed Bakir, the son of Zein-al-Abedeen, who was still on earth but unseen, like Khizer, the Guardian of the Well of Life, according to the beautiful eastern legend[13]. Still others, even bolder, denied the transmission and claimed that the divine Ali sat enthroned in the clouds, where thunder was his voice and lightning was the whip with which he frightened and punished the wicked. This sect marks the first (albeit very early) example of the introduction of mysticism into Islam, which seems to have originally come from the dreamy groves of India. As a political faction, the Ghoollat never seemed to be a serious threat.
IV. Such, however, was not the case with the Imamee, the most dangerous enemies of the house of Abbas. Agreeing with the Ghoollat in the doctrine of an invisible imam, they maintained that there had been a series of visible imams antecedent to him, who had vanished. One branch of this sect (thence called the Seveners—Sebiïn) closed the series with Ismaïl, the grandson of Mohammed Bakir, the seventh imam, reckoning Ali himself the first. These were also called Ismaïlites, from Ismaïl. The other branch, called Imamites, continued the series from Ismaïl, through his brother Moosa Casim, down to Askeree, the twelfth imam. These were hence called the Twelvers (Esnaashree). They believed that the imam Askeree had vanished in a cavern at Hilla, on the banks of the Euphrates, where he would remain invisible till the end of the world, when he would again appear under the name of the Guide (Mehdee) to lead mankind into the truth. The Imamee, wherever they might stop in the series of the visible imams, saw that, for their political purposes, it was necessary to acknowledge a kind of locum tenentes imams; but, while the Zeidites, who agreed with them in this point, required in these princes the royal virtues of valour, generosity, justice, knowledge, the Imamee declared themselves satisfied if they possessed the saintly ones of the practice of prayer, fasting, and alms-giving. Hence artful and ambitious men could set up any puppet who was said to be descended from the last of the visible imams, and aspire to govern the Mohammedan world in his name.
IV. However, that wasn't the case with the Imamee, who were the most dangerous enemies of the Abbas house. They agreed with the Ghoollat in the belief of an invisible imam, claiming there had been a series of visible imams before him who had disappeared. One faction of this sect (which became known as the Seveners—Sebiïn) ended the series with Ismaïl, the grandson of Mohammed Bakir, the seventh imam, considering Ali himself as the first. They were also called Ismaïlites, after Ismaïl. The other faction, called Imamites, continued the series from Ismaïl through his brother Moosa Casim down to Askeree, the twelfth imam. They were referred to as the Twelvers (Esnaashree). They believed that Imam Askeree had vanished in a cave at Hilla, along the Euphrates River, where he would remain invisible until the world's end, when he would reappear as the Guide (Mehdee) to lead humanity to the truth. The Imamee, regardless of where they stopped in the series of visible imams, recognized that for their political goals, it was essential to acknowledge a sort of locum tenentes imams; however, while the Zeidites, who shared this view, expected these leaders to have the royal virtues of bravery, generosity, justice, and knowledge, the Imamee were satisfied if they displayed the saintly qualities of prayer, fasting, and charity. This allowed cunning and ambitious individuals to prop up any figure claimed to be descended from the last visible imam and seek to rule the Muslim world in his name.
The Twelvers were very near obtaining possession of the khalifat in the time of the first Abbassides;[Pg 32] for the celebrated Haroon Er-Rasheed's son, Al-Mamoon, the eighth khalif of that house, moved either by the strength or preponderance which the Sheäh party had arrived at, or, as the eastern historians tell us, yielding to the suggestions of his vizir, who was devoted to that sect, named Ali Riza, the eighth imam, to be his successor on the throne. He even laid aside the black habiliments peculiar to his family, and wore green, the colour of Ali and the Prophet. But the family of Abbas, which now numbered 30,000 persons, refused their assent to this renunciation of the rights of their line. They rose in arms, and proclaimed as khalif Al-Mamoon's uncle Ibrahim. The obnoxious vizir perished, and the opportune death of Ali Riza (by poison, as was said) relieved the son of Haroon Er-Rasheed from embarrassment. Ali Riza was interred at Meshed, in the province of Khorasan; and his tomb is, to the present day, a place of pilgrimage for devout Persians[14].
The Twelvers were very close to gaining control of the caliphate during the early Abbasid era; [Pg 32] Haroon Er-Rasheed's son, Al-Mamoon, the eighth caliph of that dynasty, was either influenced by the growing power of the Shia party or, as eastern historians claim, persuaded by his vizier, who was committed to that sect, to name Ali Riza, the eighth imam, as his successor. He even stopped wearing the traditional black attire of his family and instead wore green, the color associated with Ali and the Prophet. However, the Abbasid family, now numbering 30,000, rejected his decision to renounce their rights. They took up arms and declared Al-Mamoon's uncle Ibrahim as caliph. The unpopular vizier was killed, and the timely death of Ali Riza (reportedly by poison) freed Haroon Er-Rasheed's son from his troubles. Ali Riza was buried in Meshed, in Khorasan, and his tomb remains a site of pilgrimage for devout Persians[14].
The Ismaïlites were more successful in their attempts at obtaining temporal power; and, as we shall presently see, a considerable portion of their dominions was wrested from the house of Abbas.
The Ismaïlites were more successful in their efforts to gain political power, and, as we will soon see, a significant part of their territory was taken from the Abbasid dynasty.
Religion has, in all ages, and in all parts of the world, been made the mask of ambition, for which its powerful influence over the minds of the ignorant so well qualifies it. But the political influence of religion among the calmer and more reasoning nations of Europe is slight compared with its power over the more ardent and susceptible natives of Asia. Owing to the effects of this principle the despotism of the East has never been of that still, undisturbed nature which we might suppose to be its character. To say nothing of the bloody wars and massacres which have taken place under the pretext of religion[Pg 33] in the countries from Japan to the Indus, the Mohammedan portion of the East has been, almost without ceasing, the theatre of sanguinary dramas, where ambition, under the disguise of religion, sought for empire; and our own days have seen, in the case of the Wahabees, a bold though unsuccessful attempt of fanaticism to achieve a revolution in a part of the Ottoman empire. It was this union of religion with policy which placed the Suffavee family on the throne of Persia in the fifteenth century; and it was this also which, at a much earlier period, established the dominion of the Fatimite khalifs of Egypt. The progress of this last event is thus traced by oriental historians[15]:—
Religion has always been used as a cover for ambition throughout history and across the globe, largely due to its strong influence over the minds of the uninformed. However, its political influence in the more rational and composed nations of Europe is minimal compared to its impact on the passionate and impressionable peoples of Asia. Because of this principle, the despotism in the East has never been the calm and uneventful existence we might expect. Not to mention the bloody wars and massacres conducted under the guise of religion—from Japan to the Indus—the Muslim regions of the East have been almost continuously the stage for violent conflicts where ambition, masked as religion, pursued power. Even in our own time, we've witnessed the Wahabees' bold yet unsuccessful fanatical attempt to spark a revolution within part of the Ottoman Empire. This blend of religion and politics helped the Suffavee family rise to power in Persia in the fifteenth century, and it was also a key factor in establishing the rule of the Fatimite caliphs in Egypt much earlier. Oriental historians trace the development of this last event as follows:
The encouragement given to literature and science by the enlightened Al-Mamoon had diffused a degree of boldness of speculation and inquiry hitherto unknown in the empire of the Arabs. The subtile philosophy of the Greeks was now brought into contact with the sublime but corrupted theology of the Persians, and the mysticism of India secretly mingled itself with the mass of knowledge. We are not, perhaps, to give credit to the assertion of the Arab historian that it was the secret and settled plan of the Persians to undermine and corrupt the religion, and thus sap the empire, of those who had overcome them in the field; but it is not a little remarkable that, as the transformation of the Mosaic religion into Judaism may be traced to Persia, and as the same country sent forth the monstrous opinions which corrupted the simplicity of the Gospel, so it is in Persia that we find the origin of most of the sects which have sprung up in Islam. Without agreeing with those who would derive all knowledge from India, it may be held not improbable that the[Pg 34] intricate metaphysics and mysticism of that country have been the source of much of the corruption of the various religions which have prevailed in Cis-Indian Asia. It is at least remarkable that the north-east of Persia, the part nearest to India, has been the place where many of the impostors who pretended to intercourse with the Deity made their appearance. It was here that Mani (Manes), the head of the Manichæans, displayed his arts, and it was in Khorasan (Sun-land) that Hakem, who gave himself out for an incarnation of the Deity, raised the standard of revolt against the house of Abbas. But, be this as it may, on surveying the early centuries of Islam, we may observe that all the rebellions which agitated the empire of the khalifs arose from a union of the claims of the family of Ali with the philosophical doctrines current in Persia.
The support for literature and science by the enlightened Al-Mamoon brought a level of boldness in speculation and inquiry that had never been seen before in the Arab empire. The subtle philosophy of the Greeks was now interacting with the lofty but corrupted theology of the Persians, and the mysticism of India quietly blended with the existing body of knowledge. We might not fully trust the claim made by the Arab historian that it was the secret and deliberate plan of the Persians to undermine and corrupt the religion, thereby weakening the empire of those who had defeated them in battle; still, it’s quite notable that, just as the transformation of the Mosaic religion into Judaism can be traced back to Persia, and as this same region produced the distorted ideas that corrupted the simplicity of the Gospel, we also find that most of the sects which have emerged in Islam originated in Persia. Without agreeing with those who attribute all knowledge to India, it is reasonable to believe that the complex metaphysics and mysticism of that country have contributed to much of the corruption seen in the various religions that have existed in Cis-Indian Asia. It’s at least noteworthy that the northeast part of Persia, closest to India, has been home to many impostors claiming to have divine interactions. It was here that Mani, the leader of the Manichaeans, showcased his teachings, and in Khorasan (Sun-land), Hakem, who claimed to be an incarnation of the deity, raised a revolt against the Abbasid dynasty. Nevertheless, looking back at the early centuries of Islam, we can see that all the rebellions that troubled the caliphate were driven by a connection between the claims of Ali's family and the philosophical ideas popular in Persia.
We are told that, in the ninth century of the Christian era, Abdallah, a man of Persian lineage, residing at Ahwaz, in the south of Persia, conceived the design of overturning the empire of the khalifs by secretly introducing into Islam a system of atheism and impiety. Not to shock deep-rooted prejudices in favour of the established religion and government, he resolved to communicate his doctrines gradually, and he fixed on the mystic number seven as that of the degrees through which his disciples should pass to the grand revelation of the vanity of all religions and the indifference of all actions. The political cloak of his system was the assertion of the claims of the descendants of Mohammed, the son of Ismaïl, to the imamat, and his missionaries (dais) engaged with activity in the task of making proselytes throughout the empire of the khalifs. Abdallah afterwards removed to Syria, where he died. His son and[Pg 35] grandsons followed up his plans, and in their time a convert was made who speedily brought the system into active operation[16].
We are told that in the ninth century of the Christian era, Abdallah, a man of Persian descent living in Ahwaz, in southern Persia, planned to topple the khalifate by secretly introducing a system of atheism and irreverence into Islam. To avoid shocking the deeply rooted beliefs in the established religion and government, he decided to share his ideas gradually, using the number seven as the levels his followers would pass through to reveal the emptiness of all religions and the indifference of all actions. The political cover for his ideas was the claim that the descendants of Mohammed, the son of Ismaïl, had the right to leadership (imamat), and his missionaries (dais) actively worked to convert people throughout the khalifate. Abdallah later moved to Syria, where he died. His son and[Pg 35] grandsons continued his efforts, and during their time, a convert was made who quickly put the system into action[16].
The name of this person was Carmath, a native of the district of Koofa, and from him the sect was called Carmathites. He made great alterations in the original system of Abdallah; and as the sect was now grown numerous and powerful, he resolved to venture on putting the claims of the descendants of Ismaïl to the test of the sword. He maintained that the indefeasible right to earthly dominion lay with what he styled the imam Maässoom (spotless), a sort of ideal of a perfect prince, like the wise man of the Stoics; consequently all the reigning princes were usurpers, by reason of their vices and imperfections; and the warriors of the perfect prince were to precipitate them all, without distinction, from their thrones. Carmath also taught his disciples to understand the precepts and observances of Islam in a figurative sense. Prayer signified obedience to the imam Maässoom, alms-giving was paying the tithe due to him (that is, augmenting the funds of the society), fasting was keeping the political secrets relating to the imam and his service. It was not the tenseel, or outward word of the Koran, which was to be attended to; the taweel, or exposition, was alone worthy of note. Like those of Mokanna, and other opponents of the house of Abbas, the followers of Carmath distinguished themselves by wearing white raiment to mark their hostility to the reigning khalifs, whose garments and standards retained the black hue which they had displayed against the white banners of the house of Ommiyah. A bloody war was renewed at various periods during[Pg 36] an entire century between the followers of Carmath and the troops of the khalifs, with varying success. In the course of this war the holy city of Mecca was taken by the sectaries (as it has been of late years by the Wahabees), after the fall of 30,000 Moslems in its defence. The celebrated black stone was taken and conveyed in triumph to Hajar, where it remained for two-and-twenty years, till it was redeemed for 50,000 ducats by the emir of Irak, and replaced in its original seat. Finally, like so many of their predecessors, the Carmathites were vanquished by the yet vigorous power of the empire, and their name, though not their principles, was extinguished.
The person's name was Carmath, from the Koofa area, and his sect became known as the Carmathites. He made significant changes to the original system of Abdallah; since the sect had become numerous and powerful, he decided to test the claims of the descendants of Ismaïl with force. He argued that the undeniable right to earthly rule belonged to what he called the imam Maässoom (spotless), an ideal of a perfect ruler, similar to the wise man of the Stoics; therefore, all reigning princes were usurpers due to their flaws and shortcomings, and the warriors of the perfect prince were to overthrow them all, without exception, from their thrones. Carmath also taught his followers to interpret the teachings and practices of Islam figuratively. Prayer meant obedience to the imam Maässoom, giving alms was paying the tithe owed to him (which was essentially increasing the society's resources), and fasting involved keeping the political secrets related to the imam and his service. It wasn't the literal text of the Koran that mattered; the interpretation was what should be focused on. Like the followers of Mokanna and other opponents of the Abbasid dynasty, the Carmathites distinguished themselves by wearing white clothing to show their opposition to the ruling khalifs, whose clothing and banners were black, a color they had used against the white banners of the Ommiyah dynasty. A bloody war broke out repeatedly over an entire century between the Carmathites and the khalif’s troops, with mixed outcomes. During this conflict, the holy city of Mecca was captured by the sect (as it had recently been by the Wahabees), after 30,000 Muslims fell in its defense. The famous black stone was taken and triumphantly brought to Hajar, where it stayed for twenty-two years, until it was redeemed for 50,000 ducats by the emir of Irak and returned to its original location. Ultimately, like many of their predecessors, the Carmathites were defeated by the still-strong power of the empire, and their name, though not their beliefs, was erased.
During this period of contest between the house of Abbas and the Carmathites, a dai (missionary) of the latter, named Abdallah, contrived to liberate from the prison into which he had been thrown by the khalif Motadhad a real or pretended descendant of Fatima, named Obeid-Allah[17], whom he conveyed to Africa, and, proclaiming him to be the promised Mehdi (guide), succeeded in establishing for him a dominion on the north coast of that country. The gratitude of Obeid-Allah was shown by his putting to death him to whom he was indebted for his power; but talent and valour can exist without the presence of virtue, and Obeid-Allah and his two next descendants extended their sway to the shores of the Atlantic. Moez-ladin-Allah, his great-grandson, having achieved the conquest of Egypt and Syria, wisely abandoned his former more distant dominions along the coast of the Mediterranean, his eye being fixed on the more valuable Asiatic empire of the Abbassides. This dynasty of Fatimite khalifs,[Pg 37] as they were called, reigned during two centuries at Cairo, on the Nile, the foes and rivals of those who sat in Bagdad, on the banks of the Tigris. Like every other eastern dynasty, they gradually sank into impotence and imbecility, and their throne was finally occupied by the renowned Koord Saladin.
During this time of conflict between the Abbasid dynasty and the Carmathites, a missionary from the latter, named Abdallah, managed to free a real or fake descendant of Fatima, named Obeid-Allah, who had been imprisoned by the khalif Motadhad. Abdallah took him to Africa and declared him to be the promised Mehdi, successfully establishing his rule on the north coast of that region. Obeid-Allah showed his gratitude by killing the man who helped him gain power; however, talent and bravery can exist without virtue, and Obeid-Allah and his two immediate descendants expanded their control to the Atlantic shores. His great-grandson, Moez-ladin-Allah, conquered Egypt and Syria but wisely decided to relinquish his more distant territories along the Mediterranean coast, focusing instead on the more valuable Asian empire of the Abbasids. This dynasty of Fatimite khalifs, as they were known, ruled for two centuries in Cairo on the Nile, as rivals to those in Baghdad along the Tigris. Like every other eastern dynasty, they gradually fell into weakness and incompetence, and eventually, their throne was taken over by the famous Kurdish leader, Saladin.
Obeid-Allah derived his pedigree from Ismaïl, the seventh imam. His house, therefore, looked to the support of the whole sect of the Seveners, or Ismaïlites, in their projects for extending their sway over the Mohammedan world; and it was evidently their interest to increase the numbers and power of that sect as much as possible. We are accordingly justified in giving credit to the assurances of the eastern historians, that there was a secret institution at Cairo, at the head of which was the Fatimite khalif, and of which the object was the dissemination of the doctrines of the sect of the Ismaïlites, though we may be allowed to hesitate as to the correctness of some of the details.
Obeid-Allah traced his lineage back to Ismaïl, the seventh imam. His family, therefore, looked for support from the entire group of Seveners, or Ismaïlites, in their efforts to expand their influence in the Muslim world; it was clearly in their interest to grow the numbers and strength of their sect as much as possible. Thus, we can believe the claims of the Eastern historians that there was a secret organization in Cairo, led by the Fatimite caliph, aimed at spreading the doctrines of the Ismaïlite sect, although we might question the accuracy of some specifics.
This society, we are told, comprised both men and women, who met in separate assemblies, for the common supposition of the insignificance of the latter sex in the east is erroneous. It was presided over by the chief missionary (Dai-al-Doat[18]), who was always a person of importance in the state, and not unfrequently supreme judge (Kadhi-al-kodhat[19]). Their assemblies, called Societies of Wisdom (Mejalis-al-hicmet), were held twice a-week, on Mondays and Wednesdays. All the members appeared clad in white. The president, having first waited on the khalif, and read to him the intended lecture, or, if that could not be done, having gotten his signature on the back of it, proceeded to the assembly and delivered a written discourse. At the[Pg 38] conclusion of it those present kissed his hand and reverently touched with their forehead the hand-writing of the khalif. In this state the society continued till the reign of that extraordinary madman the khalif Hakem-bi-emr-illah (Judge by the command of God), who determined to place it on a splendid footing. He erected for it a stately edifice, styled the House of Wisdom (Dar-al-hicmet), abundantly furnished with books and mathematical instruments. Its doors were open to all, and paper, pens, and ink were profusely supplied for the use of those who chose to frequent it. Professors of law, mathematics, logic, and medicine were appointed to give instructions; and at the learned disputations which were frequently held in presence of the khalif, these professors appeared in their state caftans (Khalaä), which, it is said, exactly resembled the robes worn at the English universities. The income assigned to this establishment, by the munificence of the khalif, was 257,000 ducats annually, arising from the tenths paid to the crown.
This society included both men and women, who gathered in separate groups, as the common belief about the lesser role of women in the East is incorrect. It was led by the chief missionary (Dai-al-Doat[18]), who was always an important figure in the state and often served as the supreme judge (Kadhi-al-kodhat[19]). Their meetings, known as Societies of Wisdom (Mejalis-al-hicmet), took place twice a week on Mondays and Wednesdays. All members dressed in white. The president first visited the khalif to present the planned lecture or, if that wasn't possible, to get his signature on it, before heading to the assembly to deliver a written speech. At the[Pg 38] end of the speech, those present kissed his hand and respectfully touched the written words of the khalif with their foreheads. This arrangement continued until the reign of the extraordinary khalif Hakem-bi-emr-illah (Judge by the command of God), who aimed to elevate it further. He built a grand structure named the House of Wisdom (Dar-al-hicmet), well-stocked with books and mathematical tools. Its doors were open to everyone, and paper, pens, and ink were provided abundantly for visitors. Professors of law, mathematics, logic, and medicine were hired to teach; during the frequent scholarly debates attended by the khalif, these professors wore their official caftans (Khalaä), which reportedly looked like the robes worn at English universities. The generous budget assigned to this institution by the khalif was 257,000 ducats per year, sourced from the taxes paid to the crown.
The course of instruction in this university proceeded, according to Macrisi, by the following nine degrees:—1. The object of the first, which was long and tedious, was to infuse doubts and difficulties into the mind of the aspirant, and to lead him to repose a blind confidence in the knowledge and wisdom of his teacher. To this end he was perplexed with captious questions; the absurdities of the literal sense of the Koran, and its repugnance to reason, were studiously pointed out, and dark hints were given that beneath this shell lay a kernel sweet to the taste and nutritive to the soul. But all further information was most rigorously withheld till he had consented to bind himself by a most solemn oath to absolute faith and blind obedience to his instructor. 2. When he had taken the oath he was admitted to[Pg 39] the second degree, which inculcated the acknowledgment of the imams appointed by God as the sources of all knowledge. 3. The third degree informed him what was the number of these blessed and holy imams; and this was the mystic seven; for, as God had made seven heavens, seven earths, seas, planets, metals, tones, and colours, so seven was the number of these noblest of God's creatures. 4. In the fourth degree the pupil learned that God had sent seven lawgivers into the world, each of whom was commissioned to alter and improve the system of his predecessor; that each of these had seven helpers, who appeared in the interval between him and his successor; these helpers, as they did not appear as public teachers, were called the mute (samit), in contradistinction to the speaking lawgivers. The seven lawgivers were Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, and Ismaïl, the son of Jaaffer; the seven principal helpers, called Seats (soos), were Seth, Shem, Ishmael (the son of Abraham), Aaron, Simon, Ali, and Mohammed, the son of Ismaïl. It is justly observed[20] that, as this last personage was not more than a century dead, the teacher had it in his power to fix on whom he would as the mute prophet of the present time, and inculcate the belief in, and obedience to, him of all who had not got beyond this degree. 5. The fifth degree taught that each of the seven mute prophets had twelve apostles for the dissemination of his faith. The suitableness of this number was also proved by analogy. There are twelve signs of the zodiac, twelve months, twelve tribes of Israel, twelve joints in the four fingers of each hand, and so forth. 6. The pupil being led thus far, and having shown no symptoms of restiveness, the precepts of the Koran were once more brought under consideration, and he was told that all the positive portions of[Pg 40] religion must be subordinate to philosophy. He was consequently instructed in the systems of Plato and Aristotle during a long space of time; and (7), when esteemed fully qualified, he was admitted to the seventh degree, when instruction was communicated in that mystic Pantheism which is held and taught by the sect of the Soofees. 8. The positive precepts of religion were again considered, the veil was torn from the eyes of the aspirant, all that had preceded was now declared to have been merely scaffolding to raise the edifice of knowledge, and was to be flung down. Prophets and teachers, heaven and hell, all were nothing; future bliss and misery were idle dreams; all actions were permitted. 9. The ninth degree had only to inculcate that nought was to be believed, everything might be done[21].
The educational process at this university, according to Macrisi, occurred in nine stages: 1. The goal of the first stage, which was lengthy and tiresome, was to instill doubts and difficulties in the mind of the student, encouraging him to place blind trust in the knowledge and wisdom of his teacher. To achieve this, he was confronted with tricky questions; the inconsistencies of the literal interpretation of the Koran and its contradictions to reason were carefully pointed out, along with vague suggestions that beneath this outer layer lay something valuable for the soul. However, no further information was given until he agreed to commit himself to a solemn oath of absolute faith and blind obedience to his instructor. 2. After taking the oath, he entered the second stage, which emphasized acknowledging the imams chosen by God as the sources of all knowledge. 3. The third stage revealed the number of these holy imams, which was mystically seven; just as God created seven heavens, seven earths, seas, planets, metals, tones, and colors, so seven was the number of these highest beings. 4. In the fourth stage, the student learned that God had sent seven lawgivers into the world, each commissioned to modify and improve upon the system of his predecessor; each of them had seven helpers who appeared between him and his successor. These helpers, not acting as public teachers, were called the mute (samit), in contrast to the speaking lawgivers. The seven lawgivers were Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, and Ismaïl, the son of Jaaffer; the seven main helpers, known as Seats (soos), were Seth, Shem, Ishmael (the son of Abraham), Aaron, Simon, Ali, and Mohammed, the son of Ismaïl. It is rightly noted that, since this last figure had only died about a century earlier, the teacher could choose whom he deemed the mute prophet of the present time, pushing the belief in him onto all who had not progressed beyond this stage. 5. The fifth stage taught that each of the seven mute prophets had twelve apostles to spread his faith. The appropriateness of this number was also proven by analogy. There are twelve zodiac signs, twelve months, twelve tribes of Israel, twelve joints in the four fingers of each hand, and so on. 6. Having progressed this far without showing any signs of rebellion, the teachings of the Koran were revisited, and he was told that all the definitive parts of religion must follow philosophy. Consequently, he was deeply instructed in the philosophies of Plato and Aristotle for an extended period; and (7), when he was considered fully qualified, he was admitted to the seventh stage, where he was taught the mystical Pantheism held by the sect of the Soofees. 8. The concrete teachings of religion were reassessed, the veil was lifted from the student's eyes, and all that had come before was declared to have been merely scaffolding for the construction of knowledge, to be cast aside. Prophets and teachers, heaven and hell, all meant nothing; notions of future happiness and suffering were mere fantasies; all actions were permitted. 9. The ninth stage simply taught that nothing should be believed, and anything could be done.
In perusing the accounts of secret societies, their rules, regulations, degrees, and the quantity or nature of the knowledge communicated in them, a difficulty must always present itself. Secrecy being of the very essence of everything connected with them, what means had writers, who were generally hostile to them, of learning their internal constitution and the exact nature of their maxims and tenets? In the present case our authority for this account of a society which chiefly flourished in the tenth and eleventh centuries is Macrisi, a writer of the fifteenth century. His authorities were doubtless of more ancient date, but we know not who they were or whence they derived their information. Perhaps our[Pg 41] safest course in this, as in similar cases, would be to admit the general truth of the statement, but to suffer our minds to remain in a certain degree of suspense as to the accuracy of the details. We can thus at once assent to the fact of the existence of the college at Cairo, and of the mystic tenets of Soofeeism being taught in it, as also to that of the rights of the Fatimites to the khalifat being inculcated on the minds of the pupils, and missionaries being thence sent over the east, without yielding implicit credence to the tale of the nine degrees through which the aspirant had to pass, or admitting that the course of instruction terminated in a doctrine subversive of all religion and of all morality.
In examining the accounts of secret societies, along with their rules, regulations, degrees, and the amount or type of knowledge shared within them, a challenge always arises. Since secrecy is essential to everything related to these societies, how could writers, who were typically opposed to them, learn about their internal structures and the specifics of their beliefs and principles? In this case, our source for this account of a society that mainly thrived in the tenth and eleventh centuries is Macrisi, a writer from the fifteenth century. His sources were likely older, but we don’t know who they were or where they got their information. Perhaps our[Pg 41] safest approach here, as in similar situations, would be to accept the general truth of the statement while keeping our minds somewhat uncertain about the accuracy of the details. We can agree that the college at Cairo existed and that the mystic beliefs of Soofeeism were taught there, as well as that the Fatimite claims to the khalifat were imparted to the students, and that missionaries were sent out from there across the east, without blindly believing the story of the nine degrees an aspirant had to go through, or accepting that the educational program concluded with a doctrine that undermined all religion and morality.
As we have seen, the Dai-al-doat, or chief missionary, resided at Cairo, to direct the operations of the society, while the subordinate dais pervaded all parts of the dominions of the house of Abbas, making converts to the claims of Ali. The dais were attended by companions (Refeek), who were persons who had been instructed up to a certain point in the secret doctrines, but who were neither to presume to teach nor to seek to make converts, that honour being reserved to the dais. By the activity of the dais the society spread so widely that in the year 1058 the emir Bessassiri, who belonged to it, made himself master of Bagdad, and kept possession of it during an entire year, and had money struck, and prayer made, in the name of the Egyptian khalif. The emir, however, fell by the sword of Toghrul the Turk, whose aid the feeble Abbasside implored, and these two distinguishing acts of Mohammedan sovereignty were again performed by the house of Abbas. Soon afterwards the society at Cairo seems to have declined along with the power of the Fatimite khalifs. In 1123 the powerful vizir Afdhal, on occasion of some disturbance caused by them, shut up the Dar-al-hicmet,[Pg 42] or, as it would appear, destroyed it. His successor Mamoon permitted the society to hold their meetings in a building erected in another situation, and it lingered on till the fall of the khalifat of Egypt. The policy of Afdhal is perhaps best to be explained by a reference to the state of the East at that time. The khalif of Bagdad was become a mere pageant devoid of all real power; the former dominions of the house of Abbas were in the hands of the Seljookian Turks; the Franks were masters of a great part of Syria, and threatened Egypt, where the khalifs were also fallen into incapacity, and the real power had passed to the vizir. As this last could aspire to nothing beyond preserving Egypt, a society instituted for the purpose of gaining partisans to the claims of the Fatimites must have been rather an impediment to him than otherwise. He must therefore have been inclined to suppress it, especially as the society of the Assassins, a branch of it, had now been instituted, which, heedless of the claims of the Fatimites, sought dominion for itself alone. To the history of that remarkable association we now proceed.
As we've seen, the Dai-al-doat, or chief missionary, lived in Cairo to lead the society's activities, while the lower-ranking dais spread throughout the territories of the house of Abbas, converting people to the beliefs of Ali. The dais had companions (Refeek), individuals who had been taught to a certain level about the secret doctrines but who were not allowed to teach or try to make converts; that responsibility was left to the dais. Thanks to the efforts of the dais, the society expanded so much that in 1058 the emir Bessassiri, a member of it, took control of Bagdad and held it for a whole year, even minting coins and having prayers conducted in the name of the Egyptian khalif. However, the emir was ultimately defeated by Toghrul the Turk, who was called upon for help by the weakened Abbassides, and these two key acts of Muslim sovereignty were once again carried out by the house of Abbas. Shortly after, the society in Cairo began to decline alongside the power of the Fatimite khalifs. In 1123, the powerful vizir Afdhal, in response to some unrest caused by them, shut down the Dar-al-hicmet,[Pg 42] or seemingly destroyed it. His successor Mamoon allowed the society to meet in a newly built location, and it lingered on until the fall of the khalifat of Egypt. Afdhal's policy is likely best understood by considering the state of the East at that time. The khalif of Bagdad had become a mere figurehead without any real authority; the former lands of the house of Abbas were under the control of the Seljookian Turks; the Franks had taken much of Syria and posed a threat to Egypt, where the khalifs had also become ineffective, with true power shifting to the vizir. Since the vizir's only goal was to maintain Egypt, a society aimed at attracting supporters for the claims of the Fatimites would have been more of a hindrance than a help to him. Therefore, he likely wanted to suppress it, especially as the society of the Assassins, a faction of it, had been established, which disregarded the Fatimite claims and sought power for itself. Now, we turn to the history of that notable group.
Chapter 3.
Ali of Rei—His son Hassan Sabah—Hassan sent to study at Nishaboor—Meets there Omar Khiam and Nizam-al-Moolk—Agreement made by them—Hassan introduced by Nizam to Sultan Malek Shah—Obliged to leave the Court—Anecdote of him—His own account of his Conversion—Goes to Egypt—Returns to Persia—Makes himself Master of Alamoot.
There was a man named Ali, who resided in the city of Rei, in Persia. He was a strenuous Sheäh, and maintained that his family had originally come from Koofa, in Arabia; but the people of Khorasan asserted that his family had always dwelt in one of the villages near Toos, in that province, and that consequently his pretensions to an Arabian extraction were false. Ali, it would appear, was anxious to conceal his opinions, and employed the strongest asseverations to convince the governor of the province, a rigid Soonite, of his orthodoxy, and finally retired into a monastery to pass the remainder of his days in meditation. As a further means of clearing himself from the charge of heresy he sent his only son Hassan Sabah[22] to Nishaboor to be instructed by the celebrated imam Mowafek, who resided at that place. What lessons he may have given the young Hassan previously to parting with him, and what communication he may have afterwards kept up with him, are points on which history is silent.
There was a man named Ali who lived in the city of Rei, in Persia. He was a devout Shia and claimed that his family originally came from Kufa, in Arabia; however, the people of Khorasan insisted that his family had always lived in one of the villages near Toos, in that region, and that his claims of Arabian ancestry were false. It seems that Ali wanted to hide his beliefs and used strong affirmations to convince the governor of the province, a strict Sunni, of his orthodox views. He eventually retired to a monastery to spend the rest of his days in meditation. To further distance himself from accusations of heresy, he sent his only son Hassan Sabah[22] to Nishaboor to be taught by the renowned imam Mowafek, who lived there. What lessons he may have given the young Hassan before parting with him, and what communication he may have maintained with him afterward, remain unknown in historical records.
The fame of the imam Mowafek was great over all Persia, and it was currently believed that those[Pg 44] who had the good fortune to study the Koran and the Soonna[23] under him were secure of their fortune in after-life. His school was consequently thronged by youths ambitious of knowledge and future distinction; and here Hassan met, and formed a strict intimacy with, Omar Khiam, afterwards so distinguished as a poet and an astronomer, and with Nizam-al-Moolk (Regulation of the Realm), who became vizir to the monarchs of the house of Seljook. This last, in a history which he wrote of himself and his times, relates the following instance of the early development of the ambition of Hassan. As these three, who were the most distinguished pupils of the imam, were one day together, "It is the general opinion," said Hassan, "that the pupils of the imam are certain of being fortunate. This opinion may be verified in one of us. So come, let us pledge ourselves to one another that he who shall be successful will make the other two sharers in his good fortune." His two companions readily assented, and the promise was mutually given and received.
The fame of Imam Mowafek was widespread across Persia, and it was commonly believed that those[Pg 44] fortunate enough to study the Koran and the Sunnah[23] with him were guaranteed a secure fate in the afterlife. His school was therefore filled with young people eager for knowledge and future recognition; it was here that Hassan met and formed a close friendship with Omar Khayyam, who later became famous as a poet and astronomer, and with Nizam-al-Moolk (Regulation of the Realm), who became the vizier to the rulers of the Seljuk dynasty. In a history he wrote about himself and his times, Nizam-al-Moolk recounts an early example of Hassan's ambitious nature. One day, the three of them, being the most outstanding students of the imam, were together when Hassan said, "It is widely believed that the students of the imam are destined for success. This belief can be proven through one of us. So let’s make a pact to support one another; whoever succeeds will share their fortune with the other two." His friends quickly agreed to this promise, and they all committed to it.
Nizam-al-Moolk entered the path of politics, where his talents and his noble qualities had free course, and he rose through the various gradations of office, till at length he attained the highest post in the realm, the viziriate, under Alp Arslan (Strong Lion), the second monarch of the house of Seljook. When thus exalted he forgot not his former friends; and calling to mind the promise which he had made, he received with great kindness Omar Khiam, who waited on him to congratulate him on his elevation; and he offered at once to employ all his interest to procure him a post under the government. But Omar, who was devoted to Epicurean indulgences, and averse from toil and care, thanking his friend,[Pg 45] declined his proffered services; and all that the vizir could prevail on him to accept was an annual pension of 1,200 ducats on the revenues of Nishaboor, whither he retired to spend his days in ease and tranquillity.
Nizam-al-Moolk entered the political arena, where his skills and noble traits flourished, and he climbed through the ranks of office until he finally reached the highest position in the realm, the vizierate, under Alp Arslan (Strong Lion), the second ruler of the Seljuk dynasty. Even after his rise, he didn’t forget his old friends; recalling the promise he had made, he warmly welcomed Omar Khiam, who came to congratulate him on his promotion. He immediately offered to use his influence to secure a government position for him. However, Omar, who was dedicated to enjoying life's pleasures and preferred avoiding hard work and stress, thanked his friend and declined the offer. The only thing the vizier could convince him to accept was an annual pension of 1,200 ducats from the revenues of Nishaboor, where he retired to live out his days in comfort and peace.
The case was different with Hassan. During the ten years' reign of Alp Arslan he kept aloof from the vizir, living in obscurity, and probably maturing his plans for the future. But when the young prince Malek Shah (King King) mounted the throne he saw that his time was come. He suddenly appeared at the court of the new monarch, and waited on the powerful vizir. The story is thus told by the vizir himself in his work entitled Wasaya (Political Institutes), whence it is given by Mirkhond.
The situation was different for Hassan. During Alp Arslan’s ten-year rule, he kept his distance from the vizir, living in obscurity and likely plotting for the future. However, when the young prince Malek Shah (King King) took the throne, he realized the time had come for him to act. He suddenly showed up at the court of the new king and attended to the powerful vizir. This story is recounted by the vizir himself in his work called Wasaya (Political Institutes), which is included by Mirkhond.
"He came to me at Nishaboor in the year that Malek Shah, having got rid of Kaward, had quieted the troubles which his rebellion had caused. I received him with the greatest honours, and performed, on my part, all that could be expected from a man who is a faithful observer of his oaths, and a slave to the engagements which he has contracted. Each day I gave him a new proof of my friendship, and I endeavoured to satisfy his desires. He said to me once, 'Khojah (master), you are of the number of the learned and the virtuous; you know that the goods of this world are but an enjoyment of little duration. Do you then think that you will be permitted to fail in your engagements by letting yourself be seduced by the attractions of greatness and the love of the world? and will you be of the number of those who violate the contract made with God?' 'Heaven keep me from it!' replied I. 'Though you heap honours upon me,' continued he, 'and though you pour upon me benefits without number, you cannot be ignorant that that is not the way to perform what we once pledged ourselves to respecting each other.' 'You are right,' said I; 'and I[Pg 46] am ready to satisfy you in what I promised. All that I possess of honour and power, received from my fathers or acquired by myself, belongs to you in common with me.' I then introduced him into the society of the sultan, I assigned him a rank and suitable titles, and I related to the prince all that had formerly passed between him and me. I spoke in terms of such praise of the extent of his knowledge, of his excellent qualities, and his good morals, that he obtained the rank of minister and of a confidential man. But he was, like his father, an impostor, a hypocrite, one who knew how to impose, and a wretch. He so well possessed the art of covering himself with an exterior of probity and virtue that in a little time he completely gained the mind of the sultan, and inspired him with such confidence that that prince blindly followed his advice in most of those affairs of a greater and more important nature which required good faith and sincerity, and he was always decided by his opinion. I have said all this to let it be seen that it was I who had raised him to this fortune, and yet, by an effect of his bad character, there came quarrels between the sultan and me, the unpleasant result of which had like to have been that the good reputation and favour which I had enjoyed for so many years were near going into dust and being annihilated; for at last his malignity broke out on a sudden, and the effects of his jealousy showed themselves in the most terrible manner in his actions and in his words."
He came to me in Nishaboor in the year that Malek Shah, after dealing with Kaward, had settled the issues caused by his rebellion. I welcomed him with the highest honors and did everything expected from someone who is committed to his oaths and the obligations he has made. Every day, I provided him with new evidence of my friendship, and I tried to meet his desires. Once he said to me, 'Khojah (master), you are among the learned and virtuous; you know that the possessions of this world are only a temporary pleasure. Do you think you can renege on your commitments by being tempted by the allure of power and worldly desires? Will you be among those who break their contract with God?' 'Heaven forbid!' I replied. 'Even if you honor me,' he continued, 'and shower me with countless benefits, you must know that’s not how we fulfill our promises to each other.' 'You’re right,' I said; 'and I am ready to honor my commitments. Everything I hold in terms of honor and power, whether inherited or earned, belongs to you as it does to me.' I then introduced him to the sultan, assigned him an appropriate rank and titles, and told the prince everything that had happened between us before. I spoke so highly of his knowledge, excellent qualities, and good character that he was appointed as minister and a trusted advisor. But like his father, he was a fraud, a hypocrite, skilled in deception, and a lowlife. He was so good at presenting himself as virtuous and upright that he quickly gained the sultan's trust, leading the prince to follow his advice blindly in many important matters that required integrity, and he often carried the day based on his opinions. I mention this to show that I was responsible for his rise to success, yet because of his poor character, conflicts arose between the sultan and me, which nearly destroyed the good reputation and favor I had enjoyed for many years. Eventually, his true nature came to light, and the consequences of his jealousy manifested in the most dreadful ways through his actions and words.
In fact, Hassan played the part of a treacherous friend. Everything that occurred in the divan was carefully reported to the sultan, and the worst construction put upon it, and hints of the incapacity and dishonesty of the vizir were thrown out on the fitting occasions. The vizir himself has left us an account of what he considered the worst trick which his old[Pg 47] schoolfellow attempted to play him. The sultan, it seems, wishing to see a clear and regular balance-sheet of the revenues and expenditure of his empire, directed Nizam-al-Moolk to prepare it. The vizir required a space of more than a year for the accomplishment of the task. Hassan deemed this a good opportunity for distinguishing himself, and boldly offered to do what the sultan demanded in forty days, not more than one-tenth of the time required by the vizir. All the clerks in the finance department were immediately placed at the disposal of Hassan; and the vizir himself confesses that at the end of the forty days the accounts were ready to be laid before the sultan. But, just when we might expect to see Hassan in triumph, and enjoying the highest favour of the monarch, we find him leaving the court in disgrace and vowing revenge on the sultan and his minister. This circumstance is left unexplained by the Ornament of the Realm, who however acknowledges, with great naïveté, that, if Hassan had not been obliged to fly, he should have left the court himself. But other historians inform us that the vizir, apprehensive of the consequences, had recourse to art, and contrived to have some of Hassan's papers stolen, so that, when the latter presented himself before the sultan, full of hope and pride, and commenced his statement, he found himself obliged to stop for want of some of his most important documents. As he could not account for this confusion, the sultan became enraged at the apparent attempt to deceive him, and Hassan was forthwith obliged to retire from court with precipitation.
In fact, Hassan acted as a deceitful friend. Everything that happened in the meeting room was carefully reported to the sultan, and the worst interpretations were made, with insinuations about the vizir's incompetence and dishonesty being dropped at opportune moments. The vizir himself has shared what he considered the most devious trick his old schoolmate tried to pull on him. The sultan, it seems, wanted a clear and organized summary of the revenues and expenditures of his empire, and told Nizam-al-Moolk to prepare it. The vizir needed over a year to complete the task. Hassan saw this as a great chance to stand out and boldly offered to finish what the sultan asked in just forty days—less than one-tenth of the time the vizir required. All the clerks in the finance department were immediately assigned to work with Hassan, and the vizir himself admits that at the end of those forty days, the accounts were ready to be presented to the sultan. But just when we might expect to see Hassan celebrating his success and enjoying the sultan's favor, he ends up leaving the court in disgrace and vowing revenge against the sultan and his minister. The Ornament of the Realm doesn’t explain this situation but acknowledges, with great naïveté, that if Hassan hadn't been forced to flee, he would have left the court himself. However, other historians tell us that the vizir, fearing the repercussions, resorted to tricks and managed to have some of Hassan's documents stolen. So, when Hassan appeared before the sultan, filled with hope and pride, and started his presentation, he found himself unable to continue due to the absence of some crucial papers. Unable to explain the confusion, the sultan grew angry at what seemed like an attempt to deceive him, and Hassan was quickly forced to leave the court in a rush.
Nizam-al-Moolk determined to keep no measures with a man who had thus sought his ruin, and he resolved to destroy him. Hassan fled to Rei, but, not thinking himself safe there, he went further south,[Pg 48] and took refuge with his friend the reis[24] Aboo-'l-Fazl (Father of Excellence), at Isfahan. What his plans may have hitherto been is uncertain; but now they seem to have assumed a definite form, and he unceasingly meditated on the means of avenging himself on the sultan and his minister. In consultation one day with Aboo-'l-Fazl, who appears to have adopted his speculative tenets, after he had poured out his complaints against the vizir and his master, he concluded by passionately saying, "Oh that I had but two faithful friends at my devotion! soon should I overthrow the Turk and the peasant," meaning the sultan and the vizir. Aboo-'l-Fazl, who was one of the most clear-headed men of his time, and who still did not comprehend the long-sighted views of Hassan, began to fancy that disappointment had deranged the intellect of his friend, and, believing that reasoning would in such a case be useless, commenced giving him at his meals aromatic drinks and dishes prepared with saffron, in order to relieve his brain. Hassan perceived what his kind host was about, and resolved to leave him. Aboo-'l-Fazl in vain employed all his eloquence to induce him to prolong his visit; Hassan departed, and shortly afterwards set out for Egypt.
Nizam-al-Moolk decided to take no chances with someone who had tried to ruin him, and he resolved to eliminate him. Hassan fled to Rei, but feeling unsafe there, he moved further south, [Pg 48] and took refuge with his friend Aboo-'l-Fazl (Father of Excellence) in Isfahan. What his plans had been so far is unclear; but now they seemed to have taken a definite shape, and he consistently thought about how to get revenge on the sultan and his minister. One day, while talking with Aboo-'l-Fazl, who seemed to share his ideas, Hassan vented his frustrations against the vizir and the sultan, ending with a passionate remark, "If only I had two loyal friends at my side! I could easily take down the Turk and the peasant," referring to the sultan and the vizir. Aboo-'l-Fazl, one of the sharpest minds of his time, began to worry that disappointment had affected Hassan's mind, and thinking that reasoning with him wouldn't help, started giving him aromatic drinks and saffron dishes to clear his mind. Hassan noticed what his kind host was doing and decided to leave. Despite Aboo-'l-Fazl's best efforts to persuade him to stay longer, Hassan left and soon after set out for Egypt.
Twenty years afterwards, when Hassan had accomplished all he had projected, when the sultan and the vizir were both dead, and the society of the Assassins was fully organized, the reis Aboo-'l-Fazl, who was one of his most zealous partisans, visited him at his hill-fort of Alamoot. "Well, reis," said Hassan,[Pg 49] "which of us was the madman? did you or I stand most in need of the aromatic drinks and the dishes prepared with saffron which you used to have served up at Isfahan? You see that I kept my word as soon as I had found two trusty friends."
Twenty years later, after Hassan had achieved everything he set out to do, after both the sultan and the vizir had died, and the Assassins were fully organized, Aboo-'l-Fazl, one of his most dedicated supporters, visited him at his hill fort in Alamoot. "So, Aboo," said Hassan, [Pg 49] "which of us was the crazy one? Did you or I need the fancy drinks and saffron dishes you used to have served in Isfahan? You see, I kept my promise as soon as I found two trustworthy friends."
When Hassan left Isfahan, in the year 1078, the khalif Mostanser, a man of some energy, occupied the throne of Egypt, and considerable exertions were made by the missionaries of the society at Cairo to gain proselytes throughout Asia. Among these proselytes was Hassan Sabah, and the following account of his conversion, which has fortunately been preserved in his own words, is interesting, as affording a proof that, like Cromwell, and, as we have supposed, Mohammed, and all who have attained to temporal power by means of religion, he commenced in sincerity, and was deceived himself before he deceived others.
When Hassan left Isfahan in 1078, the khalif Mostanser, a man of some energy, was on the throne of Egypt, and the missionaries from the society in Cairo worked hard to gain converts across Asia. Among these converts was Hassan Sabah, and the following account of his conversion, which has thankfully been preserved in his own words, is interesting because it shows that, like Cromwell, and as we assume, Mohammed, and everyone who has gained political power through religion, he started with sincerity and was deceived himself before deceiving others.
"From my childhood," says he, "even from the age of seven years, my sole endeavour was to acquire knowledge and capacity. I had been reared up, like my fathers, in the doctrine of the twelve imams, and I made acquaintance with an Ismaïlite companion (Refeek), named Emir Dhareb, with whom I knit fast the bonds of friendship. My opinion was that the tenets of the Ismaïlites resembled those of the Philosophers, and that the ruler of Egypt was a man who was initiated in them. As often, therefore, as Emir said anything in favour of these doctrines I fell into strife with him, and many controversies on points of faith ensued between him and me. I gave not in to anything that Emir said in disparagement of our sect, though it left a strong impression on my mind. Meanwhile Emir parted from me, and I fell into a severe fit of sickness, during which I reproached myself, saying, that the doctrine of the Ismaïlites was assuredly the true one, and that yet out of obstinacy I had not gone over to it, and that[Pg 50] should death (which God avert!) overtake me, I should die without having attained to the truth. At length I recovered of that sickness, and I now met with another Ismaïlite, named Aboo Nejm Zaraj, of whom I inquired touching the truth of his doctrine. Aboo Nejm explained it to me in the fullest manner, so that I saw quite through the depths of it. Finally I met a dai, named Moomin, to whom the sheikh Abd-al-Melik (Servant of the King, i. e. of God) Ben Attash, the director of the missions of Irak, had given permission to exercise this office. I besought that he would accept my homage (in the name of the Fatimite khalif), but this he at the first refused to do, because I had been in higher dignities than he; but when I pressed him thereto beyond all measure, he yielded his consent. When now the sheikh Abd-al-Melik came to Rei, and through intercourse learned to know me, my behaviour was pleasing unto him, and he bestowed on me the office of a dai. He said unto me, 'Thou must go unto Egypt, to be a sharer in the felicity of serving the imam Mostander.' When the sheikh Abd-al-Melik went from Rei to Isfahan I set forth for Egypt[25]."
"From my childhood," he says, "even from the age of seven, my main goal was to gain knowledge and skills. I was raised, like my ancestors, in the beliefs of the twelve imams, and I got to know an Ismaïlite friend, Emir Dhareb, with whom I formed a close friendship. I believed that the beliefs of the Ismaïlites were similar to those of the Philosophers, and that the ruler of Egypt was someone who understood them. So, whenever Emir spoke in favor of these beliefs, I would argue with him, leading to many debates on matters of faith between us. I never accepted anything Emir said that criticized our sect, even though it left a strong impact on me. Meanwhile, Emir left me, and I fell seriously ill, during which I blamed myself, thinking that the Ismaïlite beliefs were undoubtedly the true ones, and that out of stubbornness, I had not embraced them, and should death (which God forbid!) catch me, I would die without discovering the truth. Eventually, I recovered from that illness, and I met another Ismaïlite named Aboo Nejm Zaraj, to whom I asked about the truth of his beliefs. Aboo Nejm explained them to me thoroughly, allowing me to understand them deeply. Finally, I encountered a dai named Moomin, who had been authorized by Sheikh Abd-al-Melik (Servant of the King, i.e., of God) Ben Attash, the director of the missions in Iraq, to perform this role. I requested that he accept my homage (in the name of the Fatimite caliph), but at first, he refused because I held a higher position than he did; but when I insisted, he agreed. When Sheikh Abd-al-Melik arrived in Rei and got to know me through our interactions, he was pleased with my behavior and appointed me to the role of a dai. He told me, 'You must go to Egypt to share in the joy of serving Imam Mostander.' When Sheikh Abd-al-Melik left Rei for Isfahan, I set out for Egypt."
There is something highly interesting in this account of his thoughts and feelings given by Hassan Sabah, particularly when we recollect that this was the man who afterwards organized the society of the Assassins, so long the scourge of the East. We here find him, according to his own statement, dreading the idea of dying without having openly made profession of the truth, yet afterwards, if we are to credit the Oriental historians, he inculcated the doctrine of the indifference of all human actions. Unfortunately this declension from virtue to vice has been too often exhibited to allow of our doubting that it may have happened in the case of Hassan Sabah. A further[Pg 51] reflection which presents itself is this: Can anything be more absurd than those points which have split the Moslems into sects? and yet how deeply has conscience been engaged in them, and with what sincerity have they not been embraced and maintained! Will not this apply in some measure to the dissensions among Christians, who divide into parties, not for the essential doctrines of their religion, but for some merely accessory parts?
There is something very interesting about this account of his thoughts and feelings from Hassan Sabah, especially when we remember that he was the man who later organized the society of the Assassins, which became a long-lasting threat in the East. Here we find him, according to his own words, fearing the idea of dying without openly professing the truth, yet later, if we are to believe the Oriental historians, he promoted the idea that all human actions are indifferent. Unfortunately, this shift from virtue to vice has been too common to doubt that it could have happened with Hassan Sabah. Another reflection that comes to mind is this: Can anything be more absurd than the issues that have divided Muslims into sects? And yet, how deeply has conscience been involved in these matters, and with what sincerity have they been embraced and defended! Doesn’t this also apply, to some extent, to the divisions among Christians, who split into groups, not for the essential beliefs of their faith, but for some merely secondary points?
Hassan, on his arrival in Egypt, whither his fame had preceded him, was received with every demonstration of respect. His known talents, and the knowledge of the high favour and consideration which he had enjoyed at the court of Malek Shah, made the khalif esteem him a most important acquisition to the cause of the Ismaïlites, and no means were omitted to soothe and flatter him. He was met on the frontiers by the Dai-al-Doat, the sherif Taher Casvini, and several other persons of high consideration; the great officers of state and court waited on him as soon as he had entered Cairo, where the khalif assigned him a suitable abode, and loaded him with honours and tokens of favour. But such was the state of seclusion which the Fatimite khalifs had adopted, that during the eighteen months which Hassan is said to have passed at Cairo he never once beheld the face of Mostanser, though that monarch always evinced the utmost solicitude about him, and never spoke of him but in terms of the highest praise.
Hassan, upon arriving in Egypt, where his reputation had already made waves, was welcomed with great respect. His well-known talents and the high regard he had received at the court of Malek Shah led the khalif to see him as a key figure for the Ismaïlites, and every effort was made to please and flatter him. He was greeted at the borders by the Dai-al-Doat, the sherif Taher Casvini, and several other notable individuals; the leading officers of state and court came to meet him as soon as he entered Cairo, where the khalif provided him with a fitting residence and showered him with honors and tokens of favor. However, due to the isolated lifestyle adopted by the Fatimite khalifs, during the eighteen months that Hassan reportedly stayed in Cairo, he never once saw Mostanser, even though that ruler always showed great concern for him and spoke of him with the highest praise.
While Hassan abode in Egypt the question of the succession to the throne (always a matter of dispute in Oriental monarchies) became a subject of dissension and angry debate at court. The khalif had declared his eldest son, Nesar, to be his legitimate successor; but Bedr-al-Jemali, the Emir-al-Juyoosh, or commander-in-chief of the army, who enjoyed almost unlimited power under the Fatimites, asserted[Pg 52] the superior right of Musteäli, the khalif's second son, which right his power afterwards made good. Hassan Sabah, not very wisely, as it would seem, took the side of Prince Nesar, and thereby drew on himself the hostility of Bedr-al-Jemali, who resolved on his destruction. In vain the reluctant khalif struggled against the might of the powerful Emir-al-Juyoosh; he was obliged to surrender Hassan to his vengeance, and to issue an order for committing him to close custody in the castle of Damietta.
While Hassan was in Egypt, the issue of who would inherit the throne—which was always a contentious topic in Eastern monarchies—became a source of conflict and heated debate at court. The khalif had named his eldest son, Nesar, as his rightful successor; however, Bedr-al-Jemali, the Emir-al-Juyoosh, or commander-in-chief of the army, who wielded almost unchecked power under the Fatimites, claimed the superior right of Musteäli, the khalif's second son, a claim that his power later validated. Hassan Sabah, not acting very wisely, it seems, chose to side with Prince Nesar, which brought him into direct conflict with Bedr-al-Jemali, who was determined to destroy him. Despite the khalif's reluctance, he struggled against the might of the powerful Emir-al-Juyoosh and was forced to hand Hassan over to his wrath, issuing an order for his close confinement in the castle of Damietta.
While Hassan lay in confinement at Damietta one of the towers of that city fell down without any apparent cause. This being looked upon in the light of a miracle by the partisans of Hassan and the khalif, his enemies, to prevent his deriving any advantage from it, hurried him on board of a ship which was on the point of sailing for Africa. Scarcely had the vessel put to sea when a violent tempest came on. The sea rolled mountains high, the thunder roared, and the lightning flamed. Terror laid hold on all who were aboard, save Hassan Sabah, who looked calm and undisturbed on the commotion of the elements, while others gazed with agony on the prospect of instant death. On being asked the cause of his tranquillity he made answer, in imitation probably of St. Paul, "Our Lord (Seydna) has promised me that no evil shall befall me." Shortly afterwards the storm fell and the sea grew calm. The crew and passengers now regarded him as a man under the especial favour of Heaven, and when a strong west wind sprung up, and drove them to the coast of Syria, they offered no opposition to his leaving the vessel and going on shore.
While Hassan was confined in Damietta, one of the towers in that city unexpectedly collapsed. His supporters and the khalif saw this as a miracle, so his enemies rushed to put him on a ship that was about to sail for Africa. As soon as the vessel left the harbor, a fierce storm hit. The waves rose high, thunder crashed, and lightning flashed. Panic gripped everyone on board, except for Hassan Sabah, who remained calm and untroubled amid the chaos, while others feared for their lives. When asked about his serenity, he replied, likely echoing St. Paul, "Our Lord (Seydna) has promised me that no harm will come to me." Soon after, the storm subsided, and the sea became calm. The crew and passengers viewed him as someone favored by Heaven, and when a strong west wind came up and brought them to the coast of Syria, they made no objections as he disembarked and went ashore.
Hassan proceeded to Aleppo, where he staid some time, and thence directed his course to Bagdad. Leaving that city he entered Persia, traversed the province of Khuzistan, and, visiting the cities of[Pg 53] Isfahan and Yezd, went on to the eastern province of Kerman, everywhere making proselytes to his opinions. He then returned to Isfahan, where he made a stay of four months. He next spent three months in Khuzistan. Having fixed his view on Damaghan and the surrounding country in Irak as a district well calculated to be the seat of the power which he meditated establishing, he devoted three entire years to the task of gaining disciples among its inhabitants. For this purpose he employed the most eloquent dais he could find, and directed them to win over by all means the inhabitants of the numerous hill-forts which were in that region. While his dais were thus engaged he himself traversed the more northerly districts of Jorjan and Dilem, and when he deemed the time fit returned to the province of Irak, where Hussein Kaïni, one of the most zealous of his missionaries, had been long since engaged in persuading the people of the strong hill-fort of Alamoot to swear obedience to the khalif Mostanser. The arguments of the dai had proved convincing to the great majority of the inhabitants, but the governor, Ali Mehdi, an upright and worthy man, whose ancestors had built the fort, remained, with a few others, faithful to his duty, and would acknowledge no spiritual head but the Abbasside khalif of Bagdad; no temporal chief but the Seljookian Malek Shah. Mehdi, when he first perceived the progress of Ismaïlism among his people, expelled those who had embraced it, but afterwards permitted them to return. Sure of the aid of a strong party within the fort, Hassan is said to have employed against the governor the same artifice by which Dido is related to have deceived the Lybians[26]. He[Pg 54] offered him 3,000 ducats for as much ground as he could compass with an ox-hide. The guileless Mehdi consented, and Hassan instantly cutting the hide into thongs surrounded with it the fortress of Alamoot. Mehdi, seeing himself thus tricked, refused to stand to the agreement. Hassan appealed to justice, and to the arms of his partisans within the fortress, and by their aid compelled the governor to depart from Alamoot. As Mehdi was setting out for Damaghan, whither he proposed to retire, Hassan placed in his hand an order on the reis Mozaffer, the governor of the castle of Kirdkoo, couched in these terms: "Let the reis Mozaffer pay to Mehdi, the descendant of Ali, 3,000 ducats, as the price of the fortress of Alamoot. Peace be upon the Prophet and his family! God, the best of directors, sufficeth us." Mehdi could hardly believe that a man of the consequence of the reis Mozaffer, who held an important government under the Seljookian sultans, would pay the slightest attention to the order of a mere adventurer like Hassan Sabah; he, however, resolved, out of curiosity, or rather, as we are told, pressed by his want of the money, to try how he would act. He accordingly presented the order, and, to his infinite surprise, was forthwith paid the 3,000 ducats. The reis had in fact been long in secret one of the most zealous disciples of Hassan Sabah.
Hassan went to Aleppo, where he stayed for a while, and then made his way to Baghdad. After leaving that city, he entered Persia, crossed the province of Khuzistan, and visited the cities of[Pg 53] Isfahan and Yezd, before heading to the eastern province of Kerman, where he gained followers everywhere he went. He then returned to Isfahan and stayed for four months. He spent the next three months in Khuzistan. With his sights set on Damaghan and the surrounding area in Irak as a place to establish his power, he dedicated three years to winning over the locals. To accomplish this, he employed the most persuasive missionaries he could find and instructed them to use every tactic available to win over the inhabitants of the many hill-forts in the region. While his missionaries worked, he traveled through the northern districts of Jorjan and Dilem, and when he thought the time was right, he returned to Irak, where Hussein Kaïni, one of his most enthusiastic missionaries, had been working to convince the people of the strong hill-fort of Alamoot to pledge allegiance to the khalif Mostanser. The dai’s arguments had convinced the majority of the residents, but the governor, Ali Mehdi, an honest and noble man whose ancestors built the fort, remained loyal to his duty and recognized no spiritual leader except the Abbasside khalif of Baghdad, and no temporal leader but the Seljookian Malek Shah. At first, when Mehdi noticed the growth of Ismailism among his people, he expelled those who had converted, but later he allowed them to return. Confident in the support of a strong faction within the fort, Hassan is said to have used the same trick that Dido supposedly used to deceive the Libyans[26]. He[Pg 54] offered Mehdi 3,000 ducats for as much land as he could cover with an ox-hide. The unsuspecting Mehdi agreed, and Hassan immediately cut the hide into strips and used it to surround the fortress of Alamoot. When Mehdi realized he had been tricked, he refused to honor the agreement. Hassan appealed to justice and the support of his allies inside the fortress, and with their help, he forced the governor to leave Alamoot. As Mehdi was about to head to Damaghan, where he planned to retreat, Hassan gave him a note for the reis Mozaffer, the governor of the castle of Kirdkoo, which stated: "Let the reis Mozaffer pay Mehdi, the descendant of Ali, 3,000 ducats as payment for the fortress of Alamoot. Peace be upon the Prophet and his family! God, the best of directors, is sufficient for us." Mehdi could hardly believe that a person of Mozaffer’s stature, who held a significant position under the Seljookian sultans, would heed the order of an opportunist like Hassan Sabah; however, out of curiosity, or as it’s said, motivated by his need for money, he decided to see how it would play out. He presented the order, and to his complete surprise, he was immediately given the 3,000 ducats. In fact, the reis had long been a secret, devoted follower of Hassan Sabah.
Historians are careful to inform us that it was on the night of Wednesday, the sixth of the month Rejeb, in the 483d year of the Hejra, that Hassan Sabah made himself master of Alamoot, which was to become the chief seat of the power of the sect of the Ismaïlites. This year answers to the year 1090 of the Christian era, and thus the dominion of the Assassins was founded only nine years before the Christians of the west established their empire in the Holy Land.[Pg 55]
Historians carefully tell us that it was on the night of Wednesday, the sixth of the month Rejeb, in the 483rd year of the Hejra, that Hassan Sabah took control of Alamoot, which would become the main center of power for the Ismaïlite sect. This year corresponds to 1090 in the Christian calendar, meaning the Assassins' rule began just nine years before the Western Christians established their empire in the Holy Land.[Pg 55]

Hill Fort.
Chapter 4.
Description of Alamoot—Fruitless Attempts to recover it—Extension of the Ismaïlite Power—The Ismaïlites in Syria—Attempt on the Life of Aboo-Hard Issa—Treaty made with Sultan Sanjar—Death of Hassan—His Character.
Alamoot, a name so famous in the history of the East, signifies the Vulture's Nest, an appellation derived from its lofty site. It was built in the year 860, on the summit of a hill, which bears a fancied resemblance to a lion couching with his nose to the ground, situated, according to Hammer, in 50-1/2° E. long. and 36° N. lat. It was regarded as the strongest of 50 fortresses of the same kind, which were scattered over the district of Roodbar (River-land), the mountainous region which forms the border between Persian Irak and the more northerly provinces of Dilem and Taberistan, and is watered by the stream called the King's River (Shahrood). As soon as Hassan saw himself master of this important place he directed his thoughts to the means of increasing its strength. He repaired the original walls, and added new ones; he sunk wells, and dug a canal, which conveyed water from a considerable distance to the foot of the fortress. As the possession of Alamoot made him master of the surrounding country, he learned to regard the inhabitants as his subjects, and he stimulated them to agriculture, and made large plantations of fruit-trees around the eminence on which the fortress stood.
Alamoot, a name well-known in Eastern history, means the Vulture's Nest, a title that comes from its high location. It was built in 860 on top of a hill that is thought to look like a lion lying with its nose to the ground, which is located, according to Hammer, at 50-1/2° E. long. and 36° N. lat. It was considered the strongest of 50 fortresses of its kind scattered throughout the Roodbar (River-land) area, a mountainous region that forms the border between Persian Irak and the northern provinces of Dilem and Taberistan, fed by the stream known as the King's River (Shahrood). Once Hassan secured this important location, he focused on strengthening it further. He repaired the original walls and added new ones; he dug wells and created a canal that brought water from a significant distance to the base of the fortress. Since controlling Alamoot gave him authority over the surrounding land, he began to see the residents as his subjects, encouraging them to farm and establishing large orchards around the hill where the fortress was situated.
But before Hassan had time to commence, much less complete these plans of improvement, he saw[Pg 57] himself in danger of losing all the fruits of his toil. It was not to be expected that the emir, on whom the sultan had bestowed the province of Roodbar, would calmly view its strongest fort in the possession of the foe of the house of Seljook. Hassan, therefore, had not had time to collect stores and provisions when he found all access to the place cut off by the troops of the emir. The inhabitants were about to quit Alamoot, but Hassan exerted the usual influence of a commanding spirit over their minds, and confidently assured them that that was the place in which fortune would favour them. They yielded faith to his words and staid; and at length their perseverance wore out the patience of the emir, and Alamoot thence obtained the title of the Abode of Fortune. The sultan, who had at first viewed the progress of his ex-minister with contempt, began soon to grow apprehensive of his ultimate designs, and in 1092 he issued orders to the emir Arslantash (Lion-stone) to destroy Hassan and his adherents. Arslantash advanced against Alamoot. Hassan, though he had but 70 men with him, and was scantily supplied with provisions, defended himself courageously till Aboo Ali, the governor of Casveen, who was in secret one of his dais, sent 300 men to his aid. These fell suddenly, during the night, on the troops of the emir; the little garrison made at the same time a sortie; the sultan's troops took to flight, and Alamoot remained in the possession of the Ismaïlites. Much about the same time Malek Shah sent troops against Hussein Kaini, who was actively engaged in the cause of Hassan Sabah in Kuhistan. Hussein threw himself into Moominabad, a fortress nearly as strong as that of Alamoot, and the troops of the sultan assailed him in vain. It was now that Hassan began to display the system which we shall presently unveil. The aged vizir, the great and[Pg 58] good Nizam-al-Moolk, perished by the daggers of his emissaries, and the sultan himself speedily followed his minister to the tomb, not without suspicion of poison.
But before Hassan could start, let alone finish these plans for improvement, he found himself at risk of losing everything he had worked for. It was unrealistic to think that the emir, to whom the sultan had granted the province of Roodbar, would simply accept having its strongest fort in the hands of the Seljook dynasty's enemy. Therefore, Hassan didn’t have the time to gather supplies before he realized that the emir's troops had cut off all access to the area. The people were about to leave Alamoot, but Hassan used his usual influence to rally them, confidently telling them that this was the place where fortune would smile upon them. They believed in his words and stayed; eventually, their determination wore down the emir’s patience, and Alamoot earned the title of the Abode of Fortune. The sultan, who initially regarded his former minister's progress with disdain, soon became wary of his true intentions. In 1092, he ordered the emir Arslantash (Lion-stone) to eliminate Hassan and his followers. Arslantash marched against Alamoot. Despite having only 70 men and scarce supplies, Hassan bravely defended himself until Aboo Ali, the governor of Casveen, who secretly supported him, sent 300 troops to help. These forces launched a surprise attack on the emir's troops at night, while the small garrison made a sortie. The sultan's forces fled, and Alamoot remained under Ismaïlite control. Around the same time, Malek Shah sent troops against Hussein Kaini, who was actively siding with Hassan Sabah in Kuhistan. Hussein took refuge in Moominabad, a fortress almost as strong as Alamoot, and the sultan's troops failed to breach it. It was at this point that Hassan began to implement the strategy we will soon reveal. The aged vizier, the esteemed and good Nizam-al-Moolk, was killed by the daggers of Hassan's agents, and the sultan himself soon followed his minister to the grave, amid suspicions of poisoning.
Circumstances were now particularly favourable to the plans of Hassan Sabah. On the death of sultan Malek Shah a civil war broke out among his sons for the succession. All the military chiefs and persons of eminence were engaged on one side or the other, and none had leisure or inclination to attend to the progress of the Ismaïlites. These, therefore, went on gradually extending their power, and fortress after fortress fell into their hands. In the course of ten years they saw themselves masters of the principal hill-forts of Persian Irak; they held that of Shahdorr[27] (King's pearl), and two other fortresses, close to Isfahan; that of Khalankhan, on the borders of Fars and Kuhistan; Damaghan, Kirdkoo, and Firoozkoo, in the district of Komis; and Lamseer and several others in Kuhistan. It was in vain that the most distinguished imams and doctors of the law issued their fetuas against the sect of the Ismaïlites, and condemned them to future perdition; in vain they called on the orthodox to employ the[Pg 59] sword of justice in freeing the earth from this godless and abominable race. The sect, strong in its secret bond of unity and determination of purpose, went on and prospered; the dagger avenged the fate of those who perished by the sword, and, as the Orientalized European historian of the society expresses it[28], "heads fell like an abundant harvest beneath the twofold sickle of the sword of justice and the dagger of murder."
Circumstances were now particularly favorable to Hassan Sabah's plans. After the death of Sultan Malek Shah, a civil war erupted among his sons over the succession. All the military leaders and significant figures were caught up on one side or the other, leaving them no time or interest to focus on the Ismaïlites' rise. Consequently, the Ismaïlites steadily expanded their power, capturing fortress after fortress. Within ten years, they had taken control of the main hill-forts in Persian Irak; they held Shahdorr[27] (King's pearl) and two other fortresses near Isfahan, Khalankhan on the borders of Fars and Kuhistan, as well as Damaghan, Kirdkoo, and Firoozkoo in the Komis district, along with Lamseer and several others in Kuhistan. Despite the most prominent imams and legal scholars issuing fetuas against the Ismaïlite sect and condemning them to eternal damnation; despite their calls for the orthodox to wield the[Pg 59] sword of justice to rid the earth of this godless and detestable group, the sect grew stronger in its secret unity and determination. The dagger avenged those who fell to the sword, and as one Orientalized European historian of the society puts it[28], "heads fell like an abundant harvest beneath the dual sickle of the sword of justice and the dagger of murder."
The appearance of the Ismaïlites, under their new form of organization, in Syria, happened at the same time with that of the crusaders in the Holy Land. The Siljookian Turks had made the conquest of that country, and the different chiefs who ruled Damascus, Aleppo, and the other towns and their districts, some of whom were of Turkish, others of Syrian extraction, were in a constant state of enmity with each other. Such powerful auxiliaries as the followers of Hassan Sabah were not to be neglected; Risvan, Prince of Aleppo, so celebrated in the history of the crusades, was their declared favourer and protector, and an Ismaïlite agent always resided with him. The first who occupied this post was an astrologer, and on his death the office fell to a Persian goldsmith, named Aboo Taher Essaigh. The enemies of Risvan felt the effects of his alliance with the Ismaïlites. The Prince of Emessa, for example, fell by their daggers, as he was about to relieve the castle of the Koords, to which Raymond, Count of Toulouse, had laid siege.
The emergence of the Ismaïlites, with their new organizational structure, in Syria coincided with the arrival of the crusaders in the Holy Land. The Seljuk Turks had conquered the region, and the various leaders governing Damascus, Aleppo, and other towns, some of Turkish and others of Syrian origin, were in a constant state of conflict with one another. The powerful supporters, like the followers of Hassan Sabah, were not to be overlooked; Risvan, the Prince of Aleppo, who is well-known in the history of the crusades, openly supported and protected them, and an Ismaïlite representative always stayed with him. The first to hold this position was an astrologer, and after his death, a Persian goldsmith named Aboo Taher Essaigh took over. Risvan's enemies felt the impact of his alliance with the Ismaïlites. For instance, the Prince of Emessa was killed by their daggers just as he was about to assist the castle of the Kurds, which Raymond, Count of Toulouse, had besieged.
Risvan put the strong castle of Sarmin, which lay about a day's journey south of Aleppo, into the hands of Aboo-'l-Fettah, the nephew of Hassan Sabah, and his Dai-el-Kebir (Great Missionary) for the province of Syria. The governor of this fortress was Aboo Taher Essaigh. A few years afterwards (1107) the people of Apamea invoked the aid of Aboo Taher[Pg 60] against Khalaf, their Egyptian governor. Aboo Taher took possession of the town in the name of Risvan, but Tancred, who was at war with that prince, having come and attacked it, it was forced to surrender. Aboo Taher stipulated for free egress for himself; but Tancred, in violation of the treaty, brought him to Antioch, where he remained till his ransom was paid. Aboo-'l-Fettah and the other Ismaïlites were given up to the vengeance of the sons of Khalaf. Tancred took from them at the same time another strong fortress, named Kefrlana. This is to be noted as the first collision between the Crusaders and the Assassins, as we shall now begin to call them. The origin of this name shall presently be explained.
Risvan handed over the strong castle of Sarmin, located about a day's journey south of Aleppo, to Aboo-'l-Fettah, the nephew of Hassan Sabah, and his Dai-el-Kebir (Great Missionary) for the province of Syria. The governor of this fortress was Aboo Taher Essaigh. A few years later (1107), the people of Apamea called on Aboo Taher[Pg 60] for help against Khalaf, their Egyptian governor. Aboo Taher took control of the town in the name of Risvan, but Tancred, who was at war with that prince, came and attacked it, forcing it to surrender. Aboo Taher insisted on safe passage for himself, but Tancred, breaking the treaty, brought him to Antioch, where he stayed until his ransom was paid. Aboo-'l-Fettah and the other Ismaïlites were handed over to the revenge of Khalaf's sons. At the same time, Tancred captured another strong fortress called Kefrlana. This marks the first conflict between the Crusaders and the Assassins, as we will now begin to refer to them. The origin of this name will be explained shortly.
On the return of Aboo Taher to Aleppo a very remarkable attempt at assassination took place. There was a wealthy merchant, named Aboo-Hard Issa,[29] a sworn foe to the Ismaïlites, and who had spent large sums of money in his efforts to injure them. He was now arrived from the borders of Toorkistan with a richly laden caravan of 500 camels. An Ismaïlite, named Ahmed, a native of Rei, had secretly accompanied him from the time he left Khorasan, with the design of avenging the death of his father, who had fallen under the blows of Aboo-Hard's people. The Ismaïlite, on arriving at Aleppo, immediately communicated with Aboo Taher and Risvan. Revenge, and the hope of gaining the wealth of the hostile merchant, made them yield assent at once to the project of assassination. Aboo Taher gave Ahmed[Pg 61] a sufficient number of assistants; Risvan promised the aid of his guards; and one day, as the merchant was in the midst of his slaves, counting his camels, the murderers fell on him. But the faithful slaves valiantly defended their master, and the Ismaïlites expiated their guilt with their lives. The princes of Syria heaped reproaches on Risvan for this scandalous violation of the rights of hospitality, and he vainly endeavoured to justify himself by pretending ignorance of the fact. Aboo Taher, as the increasing hatred of the people of Aleppo to the sect made that town an unsafe abode, returned to Persia, his native country, leaving his son, Aboo-'l-Fettah, to manage the affairs of the society in his stead.
When Aboo Taher returned to Aleppo, a notable assassination attempt took place. There was a wealthy merchant named Aboo-Hard Issa,[29], a sworn enemy of the Ismaïlites, who had spent a lot of money trying to harm them. He had just come from the borders of Toorkistan with a lavish caravan of 500 camels. An Ismaïlite named Ahmed, originally from Rei, had secretly followed him since he left Khorasan, intending to avenge his father's death at the hands of Aboo-Hard's men. Upon arriving in Aleppo, Ahmed immediately spoke with Aboo Taher and Risvan. Their desire for revenge and the chance to seize the wealthy merchant's riches quickly led them to agree on the assassination plan. Aboo Taher provided Ahmed[Pg 61] with enough accomplices; Risvan promised to support him with his guards. One day, as the merchant was among his slaves, counting his camels, the assassins attacked. However, the loyal slaves fiercely defended their master, and the Ismaïlites paid with their lives for their crime. The princes of Syria berated Risvan for this outrageous breach of hospitality, and he unsuccessfully tried to excuse himself by claiming he had no knowledge of the plot. As the people's animosity towards the Ismaïlite sect grew, making Aleppo a dangerous place, Aboo Taher returned to Persia, his homeland, leaving his son, Aboo-'l-Fettah, to handle the society's affairs in his absence.
The acquisition of castles and other places of strength was now the open and avowed object of the society, whose aim was evidently at the empire of Asia, and no mean was left unemployed for the effecting of this design. In the year 1108 they made a bold attempt at making themselves masters of the strong castle of Khizar, also in Syria, which belonged to the family of Monkad. The festival of Easter being come, when the Mussulman garrison was in the habit of going down into the town to partake in the festivities of the Christians, during their absence the Ismaïlites entered the castle, and barred the gates. When the garrison returned towards night, they found themselves excluded; but the Ismaïlites, in their reliance on the strength of the place, being negligent, the women drew up their husbands by cords at the windows, and the intruders were speedily expelled.
The takeover of castles and other fortified places was now the clear and openly stated goal of the society, which was clearly focused on gaining control over Asia, and every possible means was used to achieve this plan. In 1108, they made a daring attempt to seize the stronghold of Khizar, also in Syria, which was owned by the Monkad family. With Easter festivities underway, when the Muslim garrison typically went down to the town to enjoy the celebrations with the Christians, the Isma’ilites took the opportunity to enter the castle and lock the gates. When the garrison returned at night, they found themselves locked out; however, the Isma’ilites, overly confident in the castle's defenses, became careless, and the women helped their husbands escape by pulling them up with ropes from the windows, leading to the intruders being quickly driven out.
In the year 1113, as Mevdood, Prince of Mosul, was walking up and down, on a festival day, in the mosk of Damascus, with the celebrated Togteghin, he was fallen on and slain by an Ismaïlite. The murderer was cut to pieces on the spot.[Pg 62]
In 1113, while Mevdood, the Prince of Mosul, was strolling back and forth on a festival day in the mosque of Damascus with the renowned Togteghin, he was attacked and killed by an Ismaelite. The murderer was immediately killed on the spot.[Pg 62]
This year was, however, near proving fatal to the society in Syria. Risvan, their great protector, died; and the eunuch Looloo, the guardian of his young son, was their sworn enemy. An order for their indiscriminate destruction was forthwith issued, and, in consequence, more than 300 men, women, and children were massacred, while 200 more were thrown into prison. Aboo-'l-Fettah was put to death with torture; his body was cut to pieces and burnt at the gate looking towards Irak, and his head sent through all Syria. They did not, however, fall totally unavenged; the daggers of the society were directed against the governors and men in power, many of whom became their victims. Thus, in the year 1115, as the Attabeg Togteghin was receiving an audience at the court of the khalif of Bagdad, the governor of Khorasan was fallen upon by three Ismaïlites, who probably mistook him for the Attabeg, and he and they perished. In 1119 as Bediï, the governor of Aleppo, was journeying with his sons to the court of the emir Il-Ghazi, they were fallen upon by two assassins; Bediï and one of his sons fell by their blows; his other sons cut the murderers down; but a third then sprang forth, and gave the finishing stroke to one of the young men, who was already wounded. The murderer was taken, and brought before Togteghin and Il-Ghazi, who only ordered him to be put in prison; but he drowned himself to escape their vengeance, from which he had, perhaps, nothing to apprehend.
This year nearly spelled disaster for the society in Syria. Risvan, their great protector, died, and the eunuch Looloo, the guardian of his young son, became their sworn enemy. An order for their indiscriminate destruction was quickly issued, resulting in the massacre of over 300 men, women, and children, while 200 more were imprisoned. Aboo-'l-Fettah was tortured and killed; his body was dismembered and burned at the gate facing Irak, and his head was sent throughout Syria. However, they did not go without some retribution; the daggers of the society were aimed at the governors and those in power, many of whom became their victims. Thus, in the year 1115, when the Attabeg Togteghin was receiving an audience at the court of the Khalif of Bagdad, the governor of Khorasan was attacked by three Ismaïlites, who likely mistook him for the Attabeg, and both he and the attackers were killed. In 1119, as Bediï, the governor of Aleppo, was traveling with his sons to the court of Emir Il-Ghazi, they were ambushed by two assassins; Bediï and one of his sons were slain, while his other sons killed the murderers. However, a third assassin then emerged and dealt the final blow to one of the young men, who was already injured. The killer was captured and brought before Togteghin and Il-Ghazi, who merely ordered him to be imprisoned; but he drowned himself to avoid their punishment, from which he might not have had anything to fear.
In fact at this time the dread of the followers of Hassan Sabah had sunk deep into the hearts of all the princes of the East, for there was no security against their daggers. Accordingly, when the next year (1120) Aboo Mohammed, the head of them at Aleppo, where they had re-established themselves, sent to the powerful Il-Ghazi to demand of him[Pg 63] possession of the castle of Sherif, near that town, he feared to refuse; but the people of Aleppo, at the persuasion of one of their fellow-citizens (who speedily paid for his advice with his blood), rose en masse, levelled the walls, filled up the ditches, and united the castle to the town. Even the great Noor-ed-deen (Lamp of Religion) was some years afterwards obliged to have recourse to the same artifice to save the castle of Beitlaha from becoming one of their strong-holds.
At this time, the fear of Hassan Sabah's followers had deeply penetrated the hearts of all the princes in the East, as there was no safety against their daggers. So, when the next year (1120), Aboo Mohammed, their leader in Aleppo, where they had rebuilt their stronghold, sent a demand to the powerful Il-Ghazi for possession of the castle of Sherif near the town, he was afraid to refuse. However, the people of Aleppo, encouraged by one of their fellow citizens (who quickly paid for his advice with his life), rose up in mass, tore down the walls, filled in the ditches, and connected the castle to the town. Even the great Noor-ed-deen (Lamp of Religion) had to resort to the same tactic years later to protect the castle of Beitlaha from becoming one of their strongholds.
The same system was pursued in Persia, where sultan Sanjar, the son of Malek Shah, had united under his sceptre the greater part of the dominions of his father and Fakhr-al-Moolk (Fame of the Realm). The son and successor of Nizam-al-Moolk and Chakar Beg, the great uncle of the sultan, perished by the daggers of the emissaries of Hassan Sabah. Sultan Sanjar was himself on his march, intending to lay siege to Alamoot, and the other strong-holds of the Ismaïlites, when one morning, on awaking, he found a dagger struck in the ground close to his pillow. The sultan was dismayed, but he concealed his terror, and a few days afterwards there came a brief note from Alamoot, containing these words: "Were we not well affected towards the sultan, the dagger had been struck in his bosom, not in the ground." Sanjar recollected that his brother Mohammed, who had laid siege to the castles of Lamseer and Alamoot, had died suddenly just as they were on the point of surrendering—an event so opportune for the society, that it was but natural to ascribe it to their agency—and he deemed it the safest course to proceed gently with such dangerous opponents. He accordingly hearkened to proposals of peace, which was concluded on the following conditions: 1. That the Ismaïlites should add no new works to their castles; 2. That they should purchase[Pg 64] no arms or military machines; 3. That they should make no more proselytes. The sultan, on his part, released the Ismaïlites from all tolls and taxes in the district of Kirdkoh, and assigned them a part of the revenue of the territory of Komis by way of annual pension. To apprehend clearly what the power of the society was, we must recollect that sultan Sanjar was the most powerful monarch of the East, that his mandate was obeyed from Cashgar to Antioch, from the Caspian to the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb.
The same system was followed in Persia, where Sultan Sanjar, the son of Malek Shah, had united most of his father's territories under his rule, along with Fakhr-al-Moolk (Fame of the Realm). The son and successor of Nizam-al-Moolk and Chakar Beg, the sultan’s great uncle, was killed by the daggers of Hassan Sabah's agents. Sultan Sanjar was on his way to besiege Alamoot and the other strongholds of the Ismaïlites when one morning, he woke up to find a dagger stuck in the ground near his pillow. He was shocked, but he hid his fear, and a few days later, he received a brief note from Alamoot, which said: "If we weren't well-disposed towards the sultan, the dagger would have been in his chest, not in the ground." Sanjar remembered that his brother Mohammed, who had been besieging the castles of Lamseer and Alamoot, had died suddenly just as they were about to surrender—an event so convenient for the society that it was only natural to assume they were behind it—and he thought it best to proceed carefully with such dangerous adversaries. He thus accepted peace proposals, which were agreed upon under the following conditions: 1. The Ismaïlites would not build any new structures for their castles; 2. They would not buy any arms or military equipment; 3. They would not convert anyone else to their cause. In return, the sultan freed the Ismaïlites from all tolls and taxes in the Kirdkoh region and granted them a portion of the revenue from the Komis territory as an annual pension. To fully understand the power of the society, we must remember that Sultan Sanjar was the mightiest monarch in the East, whose orders were followed from Cashgar to Antioch, and from the Caspian Sea to the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb.
Thirty-four years had now elapsed since the acquisition of Alamoot, and the first establishment of the power of Hassan Sabah. In all that time he had never been seen out of the castle of Alamoot, and had been even known but twice to leave his chamber, and to make his appearance on the terrace. In silence and in solitude he pondered the means of extending the power of the society of which he was the head, and he drew up, with his own hand, the rules and precepts which were to govern it. He had outlived most of his old companions and early disciples, and he was now childless, for he had put to death his two only sons, the elder for having been concerned in the murder of his faithful adherent Hussein Kaini; the younger for having violated the precept of the Koran against drinking wine. Feeling the approaches of death, he summoned to Alamoot Keäh Buzoorg Oomeid (Keäh of Good Hope), who was residing at Lamseer, which he had conquered twenty years before, and Aboo Ali, of Casveen, and committed the direction of the society to them, appointing the former to be its proper spiritual head and director, and placing in the hands of the latter the administration of the civil and external affairs. He then calmly expired, apparently unconscious of or indifferent to the fact of having, by the organization of his pernicious society, rendered[Pg 65] his name an object of execration, a by-word and a proverb among the nations.
Thirty-four years had passed since the takeover of Alamoot and the rise of Hassan Sabah's power. During all that time, he had never been seen outside the castle of Alamoot and was known to have left his chamber only twice to appear on the terrace. In silence and solitude, he thought about how to expand the influence of the society he led, and he personally wrote down the rules and principles that would govern it. He had outlived most of his old companions and early followers, and he was now childless, having put to death his two only sons: the older for being involved in the murder of his loyal supporter Hussein Kaini, and the younger for breaking the Koranic rule against drinking wine. Sensing his impending death, he called to Alamoot Keäh Buzoorg Oomeid (Keäh of Good Hope), who was living in Lamseer, which he had conquered twenty years earlier, and Aboo Ali from Casveen. He entrusted the leadership of the society to them, appointing the former as its spiritual leader and giving the latter control over civil and external matters. He then peacefully passed away, seemingly unaware or indifferent to the fact that, by establishing his destructive society, he had made[Pg 65] his name one of hatred, a byword and a proverb among the peoples.
Dimly as we may discern the character of Hassan Sabah through the medium of prejudice and hatred through which the scanty notices of it have reached us, we cannot refuse him a place among the higher order of minds. The founder of an empire or of a powerful society is almost always a great man; but Hassan seems to have had this advantage over Loyola and other founders of societies, that he saw clearly from the commencement what might be done, and formed all his plans with a view to one ultimate object. He surely had no ordinary mind who could ask but two devoted adherents to shake the throne of the house of Seljook, then at the acmé of its power.
As dimly as we may understand Hassan Sabah's character through the lens of prejudice and hatred that has colored the limited information we've received, we can't deny him a place among the great minds. The founder of an empire or a powerful society is usually a remarkable individual; however, Hassan seems to have had an edge over Loyola and other founders of societies, as he clearly envisioned from the start what he could achieve and structured all his plans toward one ultimate goal. Surely, it takes an extraordinary mind to ask just two devoted followers to challenge the throne of the Seljook dynasty, which was then at the height of its power.
Chapter 5.
Organization of the Society—Names given to the Ismaïlites—Origin of the name Assassin—Marco Polo's description of the Paradise of the Old Man of the Mountain—Description of it given by Arabian writers—Instances of the obedience of the Fedavee.
Having traced thus far the history of this celebrated society, having shown its origin, and how it grew out of the claims of the descendants of Ali to the khalifat, mixed with the mystic tenets which seem to have been ultimately derived from India, we proceed to describe its organization, and its secret doctrines, as they are related by oriental historians.
Having outlined the history of this well-known society, showing its beginnings and how it emerged from the claims of Ali's descendants to the caliphate, combined with mystical beliefs that seem to have ultimately come from India, we will now describe its structure and secret teachings as reported by Eastern historians.
Hassan Sabah clearly perceived that the plan of the society at Cairo was defective as a mean of acquiring temporal power. The Dais might exert themselves, and proselytes might be gained; but till possession was obtained of some strongholds, and a mode of striking terror into princes devised, nothing effectual could be achieved. He first, therefore, as we have seen, made himself master of Alamoot and the other strong places, and then added to the Dais and the Refeek another class, named Fedavee (Devoted), whose task it was to yield implicit obedience to the mandate of their chief, and, without inquiry or hesitation, plunge their daggers into the bosom of whatever victim was pointed out to them, even though their own lives should be the immediate sacrifice. The ordinary dress of the Fedavee was (like that of all the sects opposed to the house of Abbas) white; their caps, girdles, or boots, were red. Hence they were named the White (Mubeiyazah),[Pg 67] and the Red (Muhammeré[30]); but they could with ease assume any guise, even that of the Christian monk, to accomplish their murderous designs.
Hassan Sabah clearly saw that the plan of the society in Cairo had flaws as a means of gaining temporal power. The Dais could put in effort, and new followers could be won over; but until they took control of some strongholds and figured out how to instill fear in rulers, nothing significant could be accomplished. So, as we’ve seen, he first took control of Alamoot and the other strongholds, and then he added another group to the Dais and the Refeek, called Fedavee (Devoted), whose role was to obey their leader without question and, without hesitation, to stab any victim pointed out to them, even if it meant sacrificing their own lives. The usual attire of the Fedavee was white, similar to that of all the sects opposing the Abbasids; their caps, belts, or boots were red. Because of this, they were called the White (Mubeiyazah),[Pg 67] and the Red (Muhammeré[30]). However, they could easily disguise themselves, even as Christian monks, to carry out their deadly missions.
The gradations in the society were these. At the head of it stood Hassan himself and his successors, with the title of Seydna, or Sidna[31] (Our Lord), and Sheikh-al-Jebal (Mountain Chief), a name derived from that of the territory which was the chief seat of the power of the society. This last, owing to the ambiguity of the word sheikh (which, like seigneur and signore, signifies either an elder or chief), has been ridiculously translated by the early European historians Old Man of the Mountain. Under him were the Dai-'l-Kebir (Great Missionaries), of which there were three, for the three provinces of Jebal, Kuhistan, and Syria[32]. Then came the Dais, next the Refeek, then the Fedavee, and lastly the Lazik, or aspirants.
The social hierarchy was structured like this. At the top was Hassan himself and his followers, titled Seydna, or Sidna[31] (Our Lord), and Sheikh-al-Jebal (Mountain Chief), a name that came from the region that was the main center of the society's power. This last title, because of the uncertainty of the word sheikh (which, like seigneur and signore, can mean either an elder or chief), has been absurdly translated by early European historians as Old Man of the Mountain. Below him were the Dai-'l-Kebir (Great Missionaries), of which there were three, corresponding to the three regions of Jebal, Kuhistan, and Syria[32]. Next were the Dais, followed by the Refeek, then the Fedavee, and finally the Lazik, or candidates.
Hassan was perfectly aware that without the compressing power of positive religion no society can well be held together. Whatever, therefore, his private opinions may have been, he resolved to impose on the bulk of his followers the most rigid obedience to the positive precepts of Islam, and, as we have seen, actually put his own son to death for a breach of one of them.
Hassan knew very well that without the unifying force of strong beliefs, no society can stay intact. So, no matter what his personal views were, he decided to enforce strict adherence to the essential rules of Islam among his followers, and, as we've seen, he even executed his own son for violating one of those rules.
Hassan is said to have rejected two of the degrees of the Ismaïlite society at Cairo, and to have reduced them to seven, the original number in the plan of Abdallah Maimoon, the first projector of this secret society. Besides these seven degrees, through which the aspirants gradually rose to knowledge, Hassan,[Pg 68] in what Hammer terms the breviary of the order, drew up seven regulations or rules for the conduct of the teachers in his society. 1. The first of these, named Ashinai-Risk (Knowledge of duty), inculcated the requisite knowledge of human nature for selecting fit persons for admission. To this belonged the proverbial expressions said to have been current among the Dais, similar to those used by the ancient Pythagoreans, such as Sow not on barren ground (that is, Waste not your labour on incapable persons). Speak not in a house where there is a lamp, (that is, Be silent in the presence of a lawyer). 2. The second rule was called Teënis (Gaining of confidence), and taught to win the candidates by flattering their passions and inclinations. 3. The third, of which the name is not given, taught to involve them in doubts and difficulties by pointing out the absurdities of the Koran, and of positive religion. 4. When the aspirant had gone thus far, the solemn oath of silence and obedience, and of communicating his doubts to his teacher alone, was to be imposed on the disciple; and then (5.) he was to be informed that the doctrines and opinions of the society were those of the greatest men in church and state. 6. The Tessees (Confirmation) directed to put the pupil again through all he had learned, and to confirm him in it. And, (7.) finally, the Teëvil (Instruction in allegory) gave the allegorical mode of interpreting the Koran, and drawing whatever sense might suit their purposes from its pages. Any one who had gone through this course of instruction, and was thus become perfectly imbued with the spirit of the society, was regarded as an accomplished Dai, and employed in the important office of making proselytes and extending its influence.
Hassan is said to have rejected two of the ranks in the Ismaïlite society in Cairo and reduced them to seven, which was the original number outlined by Abdallah Maimoon, the founder of this secret society. In addition to these seven ranks, through which members gradually gained knowledge, Hassan,[Pg 68] in what Hammer refers to as the breviary of the order, established seven rules for how the teachers in his society should conduct themselves. 1. The first rule, called Ashinai-Risk (Knowledge of duty), emphasized the necessary understanding of human nature to select suitable candidates for admission. This included proverbial sayings believed to be used by the Dais, similar to those of the ancient Pythagoreans, such as Sow not on barren ground (meaning, don’t waste your efforts on incapable people). Speak not in a house where there is a lamp (meaning, keep silent in the presence of a lawyer). 2. The second rule was called Teënis (Gaining of confidence), which advised members to win over candidates by appealing to their passions and desires. 3. The third, which lacks a specific name, instructed to entangle them in doubts and challenges by highlighting the absurdities of the Koran and organized religion. 4. Once the candidate reached this point, they were to take a solemn oath of silence and obedience, pledging to share their doubts only with their teacher; then (5.) they would be told that the doctrines and beliefs of the society came from the most esteemed figures in religion and politics. 6. The Tessees (Confirmation) required the pupil to review everything they had learned and be reinforced in it. And finally, (7.) the Teëvil (Instruction in allegory) provided the allegorical method for interpreting the Koran and allowed for whatever interpretations served their purposes. Anyone who completed this training and fully embraced the society's spirit was considered a competent Dai, tasked with converting others and expanding its influence.
We must again express our opinion that the minute accounts which are given to us by some writers, respecting the rules and doctrines of secret associations,[Pg 69] should be received with a considerable degree of hesitation, owing to the character and the means of information of those from whom we receive them. In the present case our authority is a very suspicious one. We are told that when Alamoot was taken by Hoolekoo Khan, the Mongol prince, he gave his vizir, the learned Ata-Melek (King's father) Jowani, permission to examine the library, and to select such books as were worthy of being preserved. The vizir took out the Korans and some other books of value in his eyes; the rest, among which are said to have been the archives and the secret rules and doctrines of the society, he committed, after looking cursorily through them, to the flames. In an historical work of his own he gave the result of his discoveries in those books, and he is the authority from which Mirkhond and other writers have derived the accounts which they have transmitted to us. It is quite clear, therefore, that the vizir of Hoolakoo was at liberty to invent what atrocities he pleased of the sect which was destroyed by his master, and that his testimony is consequently to be received with suspicion. On the other hand it receives some confirmation from its agreement with the account of the society at Cairo given by Macrisi, and is not repugnant to the spirit of Soofeïsm.
We need to reiterate our view that the detailed accounts provided by some writers regarding the rules and teachings of secret societies,[Pg 69] should be approached with a fair amount of skepticism, due to the nature and reliability of the sources we get them from. In this situation, our source is quite questionable. We're told that when Alamoot was captured by Hoolekoo Khan, the Mongol leader, he allowed his vizier, the learned Ata-Melek (King's father) Jowani, to review the library and choose which books should be saved. The vizier picked out the Korans and a few other books he deemed valuable; the rest, which reportedly included the society's archives and secret rules, he hastily tossed into the fire. In his own historical work, he summarized what he found in those books, and he is the source from which Mirkhond and other writers have gotten their information. It's clear, then, that Hoolakoo’s vizier could easily have made up whatever horrors he wanted about the group that his master destroyed, so his account should be viewed with suspicion. On the other hand, it does gain some credibility from its alignment with the description of the society in Cairo provided by Macrisi, and it doesn't contradict the essence of Soofeïsm.
This last doctrine, which is a kind of mystic Pantheism, viewing God in all and all in God, may produce, like fatalism, piety or its opposite. In the eyes of one who thus views God, all the distinctions between vice and virtue become fleeting and uncertain, and crime may gradually lose its atrocity, and be regarded as only a mean for the production of a good end. That the Ismaïlite Fedavee murdered innocent persons without compunction, when ordered so to do by his superiors, is an undoubted fact, and there is no absurdity in supposing that he and they may have[Pg 70] thought that in so doing they were acting right, and promoting the cause of truth. Such sanctifying of crime is not confined to the East; the maxim that the end sanctions the means is of too convenient a nature not to have prevailed in all parts of the world; and the assassins of Henry III. and Henry IV. of France displayed all the sincerity and constancy of the Ismaïlite Fedavees. Without, therefore, regarding the heads of the Ismaïlites, with Hammer, mere ruthless and impious murderers, who trampled under foot religion and morals with all their obligations, we may assent to the opinion of their leading doctrine being Soofeïsm carried to its worst consequences.
This last belief, which is a kind of mystical Pantheism, sees God in everything and everything in God, can lead to, like fatalism, either deep piety or its opposite. For someone who perceives God this way, the lines between right and wrong become blurry and uncertain, and crime may gradually lose its severity, viewed instead as just a means to achieve a good outcome. It's a well-known fact that the Ismaïlite Fedavee killed innocent people without remorse when instructed to do so by their superiors, and it’s not far-fetched to think that he and they believed they were doing the right thing and promoting the truth. This glorification of crime isn't limited to the East; the saying that the end justifies the means is too tempting not to have existed everywhere; the assassins of Henry III. and Henry IV. of France showed the same dedication and resolve as the Ismaïlite Fedavees. Therefore, while we shouldn't view the leaders of the Ismaïlites, like Hammer, simply as ruthless and immoral murderers who disregarded religion and morals, we can agree that their main doctrine represents Soofeïsm taken to its most extreme consequences.
The followers of Hassan Sabah were called the Eastern Ismaïlites, to distinguish them from those of Africa. They were also named the Batiniyeh (Internal or Secret), from the secret meaning which they drew from the text of the Koran, and Moolhad, or Moolahid (Impious) on account of the imputed impiety of their doctrines,—names common to them with most of the preceding sects. It is under this last appellation that they were known to Marco Polo, the Venetian traveller. The name, however, by which they are best known in Europe, and which we shall henceforth chiefly employ, is that of Assassins. This name is very generally derived from that of the founder of their society; but M. De Sacy has made it probable that the oriental term Hashisheen, of which the Crusaders made Assassins, comes from Hashish, a species of hemp, from which intoxicating opiates were made, which the Fedavee were in the habit of taking previously to engaging in their daring enterprises, or employed as a medium of procuring delicious visions of the paradise promised to them by the Sheikh-al-Jebal.
The followers of Hassan Sabah were known as the Eastern Ismaïlites to set them apart from those in Africa. They were also called the Batiniyeh (Internal or Secret) because of the hidden meanings they derived from the Koran, and Moolhad or Moolahid (Impious) due to the alleged irreverence of their beliefs—terms shared with many previous sects. Marco Polo, the Venetian traveler, recognized them by this last name. However, the name they are most commonly known by in Europe, and the one we will use going forward, is Assassins. This label is often thought to come from the founder of their group; however, M. De Sacy has suggested that the eastern term Hashisheen, which the Crusaders turned into Assassins, is derived from Hashish, a type of hemp used to make intoxicating drugs, which the Fedavee would often consume before undertaking their bold missions or to experience the beautiful visions of paradise that the Sheikh-al-Jebal promised them.
It is a curious question how Hassan Sabah[Pg 71] contrived to infuse into the Fedavee the recklessness of life, joined with the spirit of implicit obedience to the commands of their superiors, which they so invariably displayed. We are told[33] that the system adopted for this purpose was to obtain, by purchase or otherwise, from their parents, stout and healthy children. These were reared up in implicit obedience to the will of the Sheikh, and, to fit them for their future office, carefully instructed in various languages. The most agreeable spots were selected for their abode, they were indulged in the gratification of their senses, and, in the midst of their enjoyments, some persons were directed to inflame their imaginations by glowing descriptions of the far superior delights laid up in the celestial paradise for those who should be admitted to repose in its bowers; a happiness only to be attained by a glorious death met in obedience to the commands of the Sheikh. When such ideas had been impressed on their minds, the glorious visions ever floated before their eyes, the impression was kept up by the use of the opiate above-mentioned, and the young enthusiast panted for the hour when death, obtained in obeying the order of the Sheikh, should open to him the gates of paradise to admit him to the enjoyment of bliss never to end.
It’s an interesting question how Hassan Sabah[Pg 71] managed to instill in the Fedavee a reckless approach to life, combined with a deep-seated obedience to their leaders, which they consistently demonstrated. We are told[33] that the method used for this purpose was to acquire, whether by purchase or other means, robust and healthy children from their parents. These children were raised to follow the will of the Sheikh without question and were carefully taught various languages to prepare them for their future roles. The most beautiful locations were chosen for their living conditions, and they were allowed to enjoy their senses. Amid their pleasures, some individuals were assigned to inspire them with vivid descriptions of the far greater delights that awaited in paradise for those who would earn a peaceful rest there; a joy only achievable through a glorious death in obedience to the Sheikh's commands. Once these ideas took root in their minds, the glorious visions constantly lingered before them, reinforced by the use of the opiate mentioned earlier, and the young followers yearned for the moment when death, obtained by obeying the Sheikh's orders, would open the gates of paradise, allowing them to experience a never-ending bliss.
The celebrated Venetian, Marco Polo, who traversed the most remote parts of the East in the 13th century, gave on his return to Europe an account of the regions which he had visited, which filled the minds of men with wonder and amazement. As is usual in such cases this was followed or accompanied by unbelief, and it is only by the inquiries and discoveries of modern travellers that the veracity of Marco Polo, like that of Herodotus, has been established and placed beyond doubt.
The famous Venetian, Marco Polo, who traveled to the farthest corners of the East in the 13th century, shared his experiences upon returning to Europe, captivating people with his incredible stories. As often happens in such situations, some voiced skepticism, and it’s only thanks to the research and findings of modern travelers that Marco Polo’s accounts, much like those of Herodotus, have been confirmed and proven true beyond question.
Among other wonderful narratives which we meet[Pg 72] in the travels of Marco Polo is the account which he gives of the people whom he calls Mulehetites (that is, Moolahid), and their prince the Old Man of the Mountain. He describes correctly the nature of this society, and gives the following romantic narrative of the mode employed by that prince to infuse the principle of implicit obedience into the minds of his followers[34].
Among other amazing stories we come across[Pg 72] in Marco Polo's travels is the tale of the people he refers to as Mulehetites (or Moolahid), and their leader, the Old Man of the Mountain. He accurately describes the nature of this society and shares the following captivating account of how that leader instilled the concept of complete obedience in his followers[34].
"In a beautiful valley," says he, "enclosed between two lofty mountains, he had formed a luxurious garden, stored with every delicious fruit and every fragrant shrub that could be procured. Palaces of various sizes and forms were erected in different parts of the grounds, ornamented with works of gold, with paintings, and with furniture of rich silks. By means of small conduits contained in these buildings streams of wine, milk, honey, and some of pure water, were seen to flow in every direction. The inhabitants of these palaces were elegant and beautiful damsels, accomplished in the arts of singing, playing upon all sorts of musical instruments, dancing, and especially those of dalliance and amorous allurement. Clothed in rich dresses, they were seen continually sporting and amusing themselves in the garden and pavilions, their female guardians being confined within doors, and never suffered to appear. The object which the chief had in view in forming a garden of this fascinating kind was this: that Mahomet having promised to those who should obey his will the enjoyments of paradise, where every species of sensual gratification should be found in the society of beautiful nymphs, he was desirous of its being understood by his followers that he also was a prophet, and a compeer of Mahomet, and had the power of admitting to paradise such as he should choose to favour. In order that none without his licence should find their way into this delicious valley, he caused a strong and inexpugnable[Pg 73] castle to be erected at the opening of it, through which the entry was by a secret passage. At his court, likewise, this chief entertained a number of youths, from the age of twelve to twenty years, selected from the inhabitants of the surrounding mountains, who showed a disposition for martial exercises, and appeared to possess the quality of daring courage. To them he was in the daily practice of discoursing on the subject of the paradise announced by the Prophet and of his own, of granting admission, and at certain times he caused draughts of a soporific nature to be administered to ten or a dozen of the youths, and when half dead with sleep he had them conveyed to the several apartments of the palaces in the garden. Upon awakening from this state of lethargy their senses were struck with all the delightful objects that have been described, and each perceived himself surrounded by lovely damsels, singing, playing, and attracting his regards by the most fascinating caresses, serving him also with delicious viands and exquisite wines, until, intoxicated with excess of enjoyment, amidst actual rivers of milk and wine, he believed himself assuredly in paradise, and felt an unwillingness to relinquish its delights. When four or five days had thus been passed, they were thrown once more into a state of somnolency and carried out of the garden. Upon their being introduced to his presence, and questioned by him as to where they had been, their answer was, 'In paradise, through the favour of your highness;' and then, before the whole court, who listened to them with eager curiosity and astonishment, they gave a circumstantial account of the scenes to which they had been witnesses. The chief thereupon addressing them said, 'We have the assurance of our Prophet that he who defends his lord shall inherit paradise, and if you show yourselves devoted to the obedience of my orders, that happy lot[Pg 74] awaits you.' Animated to enthusiasm by words of this nature all deemed themselves happy to receive the commands of their master, and were forward to die in his service."
"In a beautiful valley," he says, "surrounded by two tall mountains, he created a lavish garden filled with every tasty fruit and fragrant plant that could be found. Various palaces of different sizes and shapes were built throughout the grounds, decorated with gold works, paintings, and furniture made of rich silks. Small conduits in these buildings allowed streams of wine, milk, honey, and pure water to flow in all directions. The residents of these palaces were elegant and beautiful young women, skilled in singing, playing musical instruments, dancing, and especially in flirtation and seduction. Dressed in luxurious gowns, they were often seen playing and having fun in the garden and pavilions, while their female guardians stayed inside, never allowed to appear. The chief's intention behind creating such an alluring garden was this: since Mahomet promised those who followed his will the pleasures of paradise, filled with every kind of sensual pleasure in the company of beautiful nymphs, he wanted his followers to understand that he too was a prophet and comparable to Mahomet, with the power to admit those he favored into paradise. To ensure that no one could enter this delightful valley without his permission, he had a strong and impregnable[Pg 73] castle built at its entrance, accessible only through a secret passage. At his court, this chief also entertained a number of youths aged twelve to twenty, chosen from the nearby mountains, who showed an inclination for martial activities and seemed to possess daring courage. He regularly spoke to them about the paradise promised by the Prophet and his own ability to grant entry, and at times he would have ten or twelve of the youths drink a sedative, and when they were half asleep, have them taken to the various rooms in the garden’s palaces. When they woke from their stupor, their senses were overwhelmed by all the delightful sights, and each found himself surrounded by lovely women singing, playing, and charming him with the most irresistible affection, serving him delicious food and exquisite wines until, intoxicated with excessive enjoyment, amidst actual rivers of milk and wine, he believed he was surely in paradise and hesitated to give up its pleasures. After four or five days had passed like this, they were put back into a sleepy state and taken out of the garden. When they were brought before him and asked where they had been, they replied, 'In paradise, thanks to your highness;' and then, before the entire court, who listened with eager curiosity and astonishment, they recounted in detail the scenes they had witnessed. The chief then addressed them, saying, 'We have the assurance of our Prophet that he who defends his lord shall inherit paradise, and if you show yourselves devoted to following my orders, that happy fate[Pg 74] awaits you.' Inspired by such words, they all felt fortunate to receive their master's commands and were eager to die in his service."
This romantic narrative, more suited to a place among the wonders of the "Thousand and One Nights" than to admission into sober history, has been very generally rejected by judicious inquirers such as De Sacy and Wilkin, the able historians of the Crusades; but it has found credence with Hammer, to whose work we are indebted for the far greater part of the present details on the subject of the Assassins. This industrious scholar has, as he thinks, found a proof of its truth in the circumstance of similar narratives occurring in the works of some Arabian writers which treat of the settlements of the society in Syria, forgetting that a fabulous legend is often more widely diffused than sober truth. All, therefore, that can be safely inferred from this collection of authorities is that the same marvellous tale which the Venetian traveller heard in the north of Persia was also current in Syria and Egypt. Its truth must be established by a different species of proof.
This romantic story, which feels more fitting for the wonders of the "Thousand and One Nights" than for serious history, has been largely dismissed by careful scholars like De Sacy and Wilkin, the skilled historians of the Crusades. However, it has gained acceptance from Hammer, whose work provides most of the current details on the Assassins. This diligent researcher believes he has found evidence of its truth in similar stories from some Arabian writers discussing the society's settlements in Syria, overlooking the fact that a legendary tale can often spread more widely than factual truth. Therefore, the only safe conclusion from this collection of sources is that the same incredible story the Venetian traveler heard in northern Persia was also known in Syria and Egypt. Its validity needs to be proven through different types of evidence.
In the Siret-al-Hakem (Memoirs of Hakem), a species of Arabian historic romance, the following account of the gardens at Massyat, the chief seat of the Assassins in Syria, was discovered by Hammer[35]:—
In the Siret-al-Hakem (Memoirs of Hakem), a type of Arabian historical romance, the following description of the gardens at Massyat, the main base of the Assassins in Syria, was found by Hammer[35]:—
"Our narrative now returns to Ismaïl the chief of the Ismaïlites. He took with him his people laden with gold, silver, pearls, and other effects, taken away from the inhabitants of the coasts, and which he had received in the island of Cyprus, and on the part of the king of Egypt, Dhaher, the son of Hakem-biëmr-Illah. Having bidden farewell to the sultan of Egypt at Tripolis, they proceeded to Massyat, when[Pg 75] the inhabitants of the castles and fortresses assembled to enjoy themselves, along with the chief Ismail and his people. They put on the rich dresses with which the sultan had supplied them, and adorned the castle of Massyat with everything that was good and fine. Ismaïl made his entry into Massyat with the Devoted (Fedavee), as no one has ever done at Massyat before him or after him. He stopped there some time to take into his service some more persons whom he might make Devoted both in heart and body.
"Our story now shifts back to Ismaïl, the leader of the Ismaïlites. He set off with his people, loaded with gold, silver, pearls, and other valuables taken from the coastal inhabitants, which he had acquired on the island of Cyprus and from the king of Egypt, Dhaher, son of Hakem-biëmr-Illah. After bidding farewell to the sultan of Egypt in Tripolis, they headed to Massyat, where[Pg 75] the residents of the castles and fortresses gathered to celebrate with Ismaïl and his followers. They wore the luxurious garments provided by the sultan and decorated the castle of Massyat with all things beautiful and exquisite. Ismaïl entered Massyat with the Devoted (Fedavee) like no one had before or would after him. He stayed there for a while to recruit more people whom he could make Devoted in both heart and soul."
"With this view he had caused to be made a vast garden, into which he had water conducted. In the middle of this garden he built a kiosk raised to the height of four stories. On each of the four sides were richly-ornamented windows joined by four arches, in which were painted stars of gold and silver. He put into it roses, porcelain, glasses, and drinking-vessels of gold and silver. He had with him Mamlooks (i. e. slaves), ten males and ten females, who were come with him from the region of the Nile, and who had scarcely attained the age of puberty. He clothed them in silks and in the finest stuffs, and he gave unto them bracelets of gold and of silver. The columns were overlaid with musk and with amber, and in the four arches of the windows he set four caskets, in which was the purest musk. The columns were polished, and this place was the retreat of the slaves. He divided the garden into four parts. In the first of these were pear-trees, apple-trees, vines, cherries, mulberries, plums, and other kinds of fruit-trees. In the second were oranges, lemons, olives, pomegranates, and other fruits. In the third were cucumbers, melons, leguminous plants, &c. In the fourth were roses, jessamine, tamarinds, narcissi, violets, lilies, anemonies, &c. [Pg 76]&c.
"With this vision, he created a vast garden, into which he directed water to flow. In the center of this garden, he built a kiosk that rose four stories high. Richly decorated windows adorned each of the four sides, connected by four arches, which were painted with gold and silver stars. Inside, he placed roses, porcelain, glassware, and drinking vessels made of gold and silver. He had with him ten male and ten female Mamluks (i.e., slaves), who had come with him from the Nile region and were barely past puberty. He dressed them in silk and the finest fabrics, giving them gold and silver bracelets. The columns were covered in musk and amber, and in the four arches of the windows, he placed four caskets filled with the purest musk. The columns were polished, and this space served as the retreat for the slaves. He divided the garden into four sections. The first section had pear trees, apple trees, vines, cherries, mulberries, plums, and other types of fruit trees. The second had oranges, lemons, olives, pomegranates, and other fruits. The third contained cucumbers, melons, legumes, etc. The fourth featured roses, jasmine, tamarinds, narcissus, violets, lilies, anemones, etc. [Pg 76] etc."
"The garden was divided by canals of water, and the kiosk was surrounded with ponds and reservoirs. There were groves in which were seen antelopes, ostriches, asses, and wild cows. Issuing from the ponds, one met ducks, geese, partridges, quails, hares, foxes, and other animals. Around the kiosk the chief Ismaïl planted walks of tall trees, terminating in the different parts of the garden. He built there a great house, divided into two apartments, the upper and the lower. From the latter covered walks led out into the garden, which was all enclosed with walls, so that no one could see into it, for these walks and buildings were all void of inhabitants. He made a gallery of coolness, which ran from this apartment to the cellar, which was behind. This apartment served as a place of assembly for the men. Having placed himself on a sofa there opposite the door, the chief made his men sit down, and gave them to eat and to drink during the whole length of the day until evening. At nightfall he looked around him, and, selecting those whose firmness pleased him, said to them, 'Ho! such-a-one, come and seat thyself near me.' It is thus that Ismaïl made those whom he had chosen sit near him on the sofa and drink. He then spoke to them of the great and excellent qualities of the imam Ali, of his bravery, his nobleness, and his generosity, until they fell asleep, overcome by the power of the benjeh[36] which he had given them, and which never failed to produce its effects in less than a quarter of an hour, so that they fell down as if they were inanimate. As soon as the man had fallen the chief Ismaïl arose, and, taking him up, brought him into a dormitory, and then, shutting the[Pg 77] door, carried him on his shoulders into the gallery of coolness, which was in the garden, and thence into the kiosk, where he committed him to the care of the male and female slaves, directing them to comply with all the desires of the candidate, on whom they flung vinegar till he awoke. When he was come to himself the youths and maidens said to him, 'We are only waiting for thy death, for this place is destined for thee. This is one of the pavilions of paradise, and we are the hoories and the children of paradise. If thou wert dead thou wouldest be for ever with us, but thou art only dreaming, and wilt soon awake.' Meanwhile the chief Ismaïl had returned to the company as soon as he had witnessed the awakening of the candidate, who now perceived nothing but youths and maidens of the greatest beauty, and adorned in the most magnificent manner.
"The garden was divided by waterways, and the kiosk was surrounded by ponds and reservoirs. There were groves where you could see antelopes, ostriches, donkeys, and wild cows. Coming from the ponds, you would encounter ducks, geese, partridges, quails, hares, foxes, and other animals. Surrounding the kiosk, the chief Ismaïl planted paths of tall trees that led to different parts of the garden. He built a large house with two apartments, one upstairs and one downstairs. Covered walkways led from the lower apartment out into the garden, which was completely enclosed by walls, so no one could see in, as these walkways and buildings were all uninhabited. He created a cool gallery that connected this apartment to the cellar behind it. This apartment served as a gathering place for the men. Ismaïl would sit on a sofa opposite the door, have his men sit down, and feed them and offer them drinks all day long until evening. At nightfall, he looked around, selected those whose strength impressed him, and said, 'Hey! You there, come and sit by me.' That’s how Ismaïl made his chosen ones sit next to him on the sofa and drink. He talked to them about the great and admirable qualities of Imam Ali, his bravery, nobility, and generosity, until they fell asleep, overwhelmed by the effects of the benjeh[36] he had given them, which never failed to work in less than fifteen minutes, making them collapse as if they were lifeless. As soon as a man fell, Chief Ismaïl would get up, carry him to a dormitory, and then, after shutting the door, shoulder him into the garden's cool gallery and then into the kiosk, where he entrusted him to the care of the male and female slaves, instructing them to fulfill all the desires of the man, who they doused with vinegar until he woke up. When he came to, the young men and women said to him, 'We're just waiting for your death because this place is meant for you. This is one of paradise's pavilions, and we are the hoories and children of paradise. If you were dead, you would be with us forever, but you are only dreaming and will soon wake up.' Meanwhile, Chief Ismaïl had returned to the group as soon as he saw the candidate wake up, who now saw nothing but stunningly beautiful young men and women, dressed in the most magnificent manner."
"He looked round the place, inhaled the fragrance of musk and frankincense, and drew near to the garden, where he saw the beasts and the birds, the running water, and the trees. He gazed on the beauty of the kiosk, and the vases of gold and silver, while the youths and maidens kept him in converse. In this way he remained confounded, not knowing whether he was awake or only dreaming. When two hours of the night had gone by, the chief Ismaïl returned to the dormitory, closed the door, and thence proceeded to the garden, where his slaves came around him and rose before him. When the candidate perceived him he said unto him, 'O chief Ismaïl, do I dream, or am I awake?' The chief Ismaïl then made answer to him, 'O such-a-one, beware of relating this vision to any one who is a stranger to this place! Know that the Lord Ali has shown thee the place which is destined for thee in paradise. Know that at this moment the Lord Ali and I have been sitting together in the regions of the empyrean.[Pg 78] So do not hesitate a moment in the service of the imam who has given thee to know his felicity.' Then the chief Ismaïl ordered supper to be served. It was brought in vessels of gold and of silver, and consisted of boiled meats and roast meats, with other dishes. While the candidate ate he was sprinkled with rose-water; when he called for drink there were brought to him vessels of gold and silver filled with delicious liquors, in which also had been mingled some benjeh. When he had fallen asleep, Ismaïl carried him through the gallery back to the dormitory, and, leaving him there, returned to his company. After a little time he went back, threw vinegar on his face, and then, bringing him out, ordered one of the Mamlooks to shake him. On awaking, and finding himself in the same place among the guests, he said, 'There is no god but God, and Mohammed is the Prophet of God!' The chief Ismaïl then drew near and caressed him, and he remained, as it were, immersed in intoxication, wholly devoted to the service of the chief, who then said unto him, 'O such-a-one, know that what thou hast seen was not a dream, but one of the miracles of the imam Ali. Know that he has written thy name among those of his friends. If thou keep the secret thou art certain of thy felicity, but if thou speak of it thou wilt incur the resentment of the imam. If thou die thou art a martyr; but beware of relating this to any person whatever. Thou hast entered by one of the gates to the friendship of the imam, and art become one of his family; but if thou betray the secret, thou wilt become one of his enemies, and be driven from his house.' Thus this man became one of the servants of the chief Ismaïl, who in this manner surrounded himself with trusty men, until his reputation was established. This is what is related of the chief Ismaïl and his Devoted."
"He looked around the place, breathed in the scent of musk and frankincense, and moved closer to the garden, where he saw the animals and birds, the flowing water, and the trees. He admired the beauty of the gazebo and the vases made of gold and silver, while the young men and women engaged him in conversation. He remained puzzled, unsure if he was awake or just dreaming. After two hours of the night had passed, the chief Ismaïl returned to the dormitory, shut the door, and then went to the garden, where his servants gathered around him. When the candidate saw him, he asked, 'O chief Ismaïl, am I dreaming, or am I awake?' Chief Ismaïl replied, 'O such-and-such, be careful not to share this vision with anyone unfamiliar with this place! Know that the Lord Ali has shown you the spot destined for you in paradise. Right now, the Lord Ali and I have been sitting together in the heights of heaven.[Pg 78] So don’t hesitate for a moment to serve the imam who has granted you this blessing.' Then, Chief Ismaïl ordered dinner to be served. It was brought in gold and silver dishes and included boiled and roasted meats, along with other foods. While the candidate ate, he was sprinkled with rose-water; when he asked for a drink, gold and silver vessels filled with delicious beverages mixed with some benjeh were brought to him. After he fell asleep, Ismaïl took him through the hallway back to the dormitory and, leaving him there, returned to his company. After a short while, he came back, splashed vinegar on his face, and then had one of the Mamlooks shake him awake. Finding himself in the same place among the guests, he exclaimed, 'There is no god but God, and Mohammed is the Prophet of God!' Chief Ismaïl then approached him and embraced him, and he felt as if he were lost in a haze, completely dedicated to serving the chief, who then said to him, 'O such-and-such, know that what you have seen was not a dream but a miracle of Imam Ali. He has written your name among those of his friends. If you keep this secret, you will surely find happiness, but if you speak of it, you will face the imam’s displeasure. Should you die, you will be a martyr; but be careful not to tell anyone. You have entered through one of the gates of friendship with the imam and have become part of his family; but if you betray this secret, you will become one of his enemies and be cast out of his house.' Thus, this man became a servant of Chief Ismaïl, who surrounded himself with loyal followers until his reputation grew. This is what is told about Chief Ismaïl and his Devoted."
To these romantic tales of the paradise of the Old[Pg 79] Man of the Mountain we must add a third of a still more juggling character, furnished by the learned and venerable Sheikh Abd-ur-Rahman (Servant of the Compassionate, i. e., of God) Ben Ebubekr Al-Jeriri of Damascus, in the twenty-fourth chapter of his work entitled "A Choice Book for discovering the Secrets of the Art of Imposture[37]."
To these romantic stories of the paradise of the Old[Pg 79] Man of the Mountain, we must also add a third, which is even more deceitful, provided by the learned and respected Sheikh Abd-ur-Rahman (Servant of the Compassionate, meaning of God) Ben Ebubekr Al-Jeriri of Damascus, in the twenty-fourth chapter of his work titled "A Choice Book for Discovering the Secrets of the Art of Imposture[37]."
After giving some account of Sinan, the chief of the Syrian Assassins, whom we shall presently have occasion to mention, the sheikh proceeds to narrate the artifice which he employed to deceive his followers:—
After discussing Sinan, the leader of the Syrian Assassins, whom we will mention shortly, the sheikh goes on to describe the trick he used to fool his followers:—
"There was near the sofa on which he sat a hole in the ground sufficiently deep for a man to sit down in it. This he covered with a thin piece of wood, leaving only so much of it open as would contain the neck of a man. He placed on this cover of wood a disk of bronze with a hole in the middle of it, and put in it two doors. Then taking one of his disciples, to whom he had given a considerable sum of money to obtain his consent, he placed the perforated disk round his neck, and kept it down by weights, so that nothing appeared but the neck of the man; and he put warm blood upon it, so that it looked as if he had just cut off his head. He then called in his companions, and showed them the plate, on which they beheld the head of their comrade. 'Tell thy comrades,' said the master to the head, 'what thou hast seen, and what has been said unto thee.' The man then answered as he had been previously instructed. 'Which wouldest thou prefer,' said the master, 'to return to the world and thy friends, or to dwell in paradise?' 'What need have I,' replied the head, 'to return to the world after having seen my pavilion in paradise, and the hoories, and all that God has prepared for me? Comrades, salute[Pg 80] my family, and take care not to disobey this prophet, who is the lord of the prophets in the state of time, as God has said unto me. Farewell.' These words strengthened the faith of the others; but when they were gone the master took the man up out of the hole, and cut off his head in right earnest. It was by such means as this that he made himself obeyed by his people."
There was a deep hole in the ground next to the sofa where he sat, enough for a man to sit in it. He covered it with a thin piece of wood, leaving just enough space to fit a man's neck. On this wooden cover, he placed a bronze disk with a hole in the center and added two doors. Then, taking one of his disciples, to whom he had given a large sum of money to agree to this, he put the disk around the man's neck and weighed it down so that only the neck was visible. He poured warm blood on it to make it look like the man's head had just been cut off. He then called his companions in and showed them the disk, where they saw the head of their comrade. 'Tell your friends,' the master said to the head, 'what you've seen and what has been told to you.' The man answered as he had been instructed. 'Which would you prefer,' the master asked, 'to return to the world and your friends, or to live in paradise?' 'Why would I want to return to the world after seeing my palace in paradise, the lovely maidens, and all that God has prepared for me? Friends, greet my family, and make sure not to disobey this prophet, who is the lord of the prophets in this time, as God has told me. Goodbye.' These words strengthened the faith of the others; but when they left, the master took the man out of the hole and actually beheaded him. This was how he ensured obedience from his people.
The preceding accounts, whatever may be thought of their truth, serve to testify a general belief throughout the East of some extraordinary means being employed by the mountain chief to acquire the power which he was known to possess over the minds of his Fedavee. And, in fact, there is no great improbability in the supposition of some artifice of that nature having been occasionally employed by him; for, when we recollect that an Asiatic imagination is coarse, especially among the lower orders, and that in the East men rarely see any females but those of their own family, the chief might find no great difficulty in persuading a youth, whom he had transported in a state of stupor into an apartment filled with young girls, of his having been in the actual paradise promised to the faithful.
The previous accounts, regardless of their accuracy, reflect a widespread belief in the East that the mountain chief used some extraordinary methods to gain the power he had over the minds of his Fedavee. In reality, it's not too unlikely that he occasionally used some trickery to achieve this; after all, when we consider that the imagination in Asia can be quite vivid, especially among the lower classes, and that men in the East seldom see women outside their own families, the chief could easily convince a young man, whom he had brought into a room full of young girls while he was in a daze, that he had truly experienced the paradise promised to the faithful.
But, laying aside supposition, we may observe that the very power over the minds of their followers ascribed to Hassan Sabah and his successors has been actually exercised in our own days by the chief of the Wahabees. Sir John Malcolm[38] informs us, from a Persian manuscript, that a few years ago one of that sect, who had stabbed an Arab chief near Bussora, when taken, not only refused to do anything towards saving his life, but, on the contrary, seemed anxiously to court death. He was observed to grasp something firmly in his hand, which he appeared to prize beyond life itself. On its being taken from him and[Pg 81] examined, it proved to be an order from the Wahabee chief for an emerald palace and a number of beautiful female slaves in the blissful paradise of the Prophet. This story, however, it must be confessed, appears to be little consistent with the principles of the sect of the Wahabees, and we may suspect that it has originated in some misapprehension.
But, setting aside assumptions, we can see that the control over the minds of their followers attributed to Hassan Sabah and his successors has been actively demonstrated in our time by the leader of the Wahabees. Sir John Malcolm[38] tells us, based on a Persian manuscript, that a few years ago, one member of that sect, who had stabbed an Arab chief near Bussora, when captured, not only refused to try to save his life but actually seemed eager to embrace death. He was noticed gripping something tightly in his hand, which he appeared to value more than life itself. When it was taken from him and[Pg 81] examined, it turned out to be an order from the Wahabee chief for an emerald palace and a number of beautiful female slaves in the blissful paradise of the Prophet. However, it must be acknowledged that this story seems to be inconsistent with the beliefs of the Wahabees, and we can suspect it has arisen from some misunderstanding.
The following instance of the implicit obedience of the Fedavee to the orders of Hassan Sabah is given by a respectable oriental historian[39]. An ambassador from the Sultan Malek Shah having come to Alamoot to demand the submission and obedience of the sheikh, Hassan received him in a hall in which he had assembled several of his followers. Making a sign to one youth, he said, "Kill thyself!" Instantly the young man's dagger was plunged into his own bosom, and he lay a corpse upon the ground. To another he said, "Fling thyself down from the wall." In an instant his shattered limbs were lying in the castle ditch. Then turning to the terrified envoy, "I have seventy thousand followers who obey me after this fashion. This be my answer to thy master."
The following example of the implicit obedience of the Fedavee to the orders of Hassan Sabah is provided by a respected Oriental historian[39]. When an ambassador from Sultan Malek Shah arrived in Alamoot to demand the submission and loyalty of the sheikh, Hassan welcomed him into a hall where he had gathered several of his followers. He signaled to one young man and said, "Kill yourself!" Without hesitation, the young man plunged his dagger into his own chest and fell dead on the floor. To another, he ordered, "Jump down from the wall." In an instant, the young man's shattered body lay in the castle ditch. Turning to the terrified envoy, he declared, "I have seventy thousand followers who obey me like this. That is my response to your master."
Very nearly the same tale is told of the Assassins of Syria by a western writer[40]. As Henry Count of Champagne was journeying, in the year 1194, from Palestine to Armenia[41], his road lay through the confines of the territory of the Ismaïlites. The chief sent some persons to salute him, and to beg that, on his return, he would stop at, and partake of the hospitality of his castle. The count accepted the invitation. As he returned the Dai-al-Kebir advanced to meet him, showed him every mark of honour, and led him to view his castles and fortresses. Having[Pg 82] passed through several, they came at length to one the towers of which rose to an exceeding height. On each tower stood two sentinels clad in white. "These," said the chief, pointing to them, "obey me far better than the subjects of you Christians obey their lords;" and at a given signal two of them flung themselves down, and were dashed to pieces. "If you wish," said he to the astonished count, "all my white ones shall do the same." The benevolent count shrank from the proposal, and candidly avowed that no Christian prince could presume to look for such obedience from his subjects. When he was departing, with many valuable presents, the chief said to him significantly, "By means of these trusty servants I get rid of the enemies of our society."
A very similar story is recounted about the Assassins of Syria by a Western writer[40]. In 1194, as Henry, Count of Champagne, was traveling from Palestine to Armenia[41], his route took him through the territory of the Ismaïlites. The chief sent some people to greet him and asked that he would stop by and enjoy the hospitality of his castle upon his return. The count accepted the invitation. On his way back, the Dai-al-Kebir came out to meet him, showed him great respect, and took him to see his castles and fortifications. After touring several, they finally arrived at one with impressively tall towers. Each tower had two sentinels dressed in white. "These," said the chief, pointing to them, "obey me much better than your Christian subjects obey their lords;" and at a signal, two of them jumped off the tower and were smashed to pieces. "If you wish," he said to the astonished count, "all my white ones can do the same." The kind count recoiled from the suggestion, honestly admitting that no Christian prince could expect such obedience from his subjects. As he was leaving, laden with valuable gifts, the chief remarked to him meaningfully, "Through these loyal servants, I eliminate the enemies of our society."
In oriental, and also in occidental history, the same anecdote is often told of different persons, a circumstance which might induce us to doubt of its truth altogether, or at least of its truth in any particular case. The present anecdote, for instance, with a slight variation in the details, is told of Aboo Taher, a celebrated leader of the Carmathites. This chief, after his expedition to Mecca, in which he had slain 30,000 of the inhabitants, filled the hallowed well Zemzem with the bodies of dead men, and carried off the sacred black stone in triumph, had the hardihood to approach Bagdad, the residence of the khalif, with only 500 horsemen. The pontiff of Islam, enraged at the insult, ordered his general Aboo Saj to take 30,000 men, and make him a prisoner. The latter, having collected his forces, sent a man off to Aboo Taher to tell him on his part that out of regard for him, who had been his old friend, he advised him, as he had so few troops with him, either to yield himself at once to the khalif or to see about making his escape. Aboo Taher asked of the envoy how many men Aboo Saj had with him. The[Pg 83] envoy replied, "Thirty thousand." "He still wants three like mine," said Aboo Taher; and calling to him three of his men, he ordered one of them to stab himself, another to throw himself into the Tigris, a third to fling himself down from a precipice. His commands were at once obeyed. Then turning to the envoy, "He who has such troops fears not the number of his enemies. I give thyself quarter; but know that I shall soon let thee see thy general Aboo Saj chained among my dogs." In fact, that very night he attacked and routed the troops of the khalif, and Aboo Saj, happening to fall into his hands, soon appeared chained among the mastiffs of the Carmathite chief[42].
In both Eastern and Western history, the same story is often told about different people, which might make us question its truth, or at least its accuracy in specific instances. For example, this story, with slight variations in the details, is told about Aboo Taher, a well-known leader of the Carmathites. After his raid on Mecca, where he killed 30,000 residents, filled the holy well Zemzem with dead bodies, and triumphantly took the sacred black stone, he had the audacity to approach Baghdad, the home of the caliph, with only 500 horsemen. The Islamic leader, furious at the insult, commanded his general Aboo Saj to gather 30,000 men and capture him. Aboo Saj, having assembled his forces, sent a messenger to Aboo Taher to advise him, out of respect for their old friendship, that with so few troops, he should either surrender to the caliph or think about escaping. Aboo Taher asked the messenger how many men Aboo Saj had with him. The messenger replied, "Thirty thousand." "He still needs three like mine," said Aboo Taher; then he called three of his men and ordered one to stab himself, another to jump into the Tigris, and a third to throw himself off a cliff. His orders were immediately carried out. Turning to the messenger, he said, "Someone with such troops doesn’t fear the numbers of his enemies. I spare your life; but know that soon you will see your general Aboo Saj chained among my dogs." That very night, he launched an attack and defeated the caliph's forces, and Aboo Saj, falling into his hands, soon found himself chained among the mastiffs of the Carmathite leader.
The preceding details on the paradise of the Sheikh-al-Jebal, and his power over the minds of his followers, will at least help to illustrate the manners and modes of thinking of the orientals. We now resume the thread of our narrative, and proceed to narrate the deeds of the Assassins, as we shall henceforth designate them.
The earlier information about the paradise of the Sheikh-al-Jebal and his influence over his followers will at least help illustrate the customs and ways of thinking of the Easterners. We now continue our story and will recount the actions of the Assassins, as we will now refer to them.
Chapter 6.
Keäh Buzoorg Oomeid—Affairs of the Society in Persia—They acquire the Castle of Banias, in Syria—Attempt to betray Damascus to the Crusaders—Murders committed during the reign of Keäh Buzoorg.
Keäh Buzoorg Oomeid trod faithfully in the footprints of his predecessor. He built the strong fortress of Maimoondees, and he made the enemies of the society feel that it was still animated by the spirit of Hassan Sabah. Sultan Sanjar, who, on account of the favourable terms on which he had made peace with the Assassins, was regarded by the rigidly orthodox as a secret follower of their doctrine, declared himself once more their open enemy, and sent an army to ravage Kirdkoh. These troops were defeated by those which Keäh sent against them; but the following year Sanjar put to the sword a great number of the members of the sect. The dagger, as usual, retaliated. Mahmood, the successor of Sanjar, having first tried in vain the effect of arms, sent his grand falconer Berenkesh to Alamoot, to desire that an envoy might be sent to him to treat of peace. The Khojah (Master) Mohammed Nassihi accompanied Berenkesh back to court, and kissed the hand of the sultan, who spoke to him a few words about the peace; but as the Khojah was going out of the palace, he and his followers were fallen upon and massacred by the people.
Keäh Buzoorg Oomeid walked closely in the footsteps of his predecessor. He built the strong fortress of Maimoondees, and he made the enemies of the society feel that it was still driven by the spirit of Hassan Sabah. Sultan Sanjar, who, because of the favorable terms on which he had made peace with the Assassins, was seen by the strictly orthodox as a secret follower of their beliefs, declared himself once again their open enemy and sent an army to devastate Kirdkoh. These troops were defeated by the forces Keäh sent against them; however, the following year, Sanjar executed a large number of the sect's members. The dagger, as usual, struck back. Mahmood, Sanjar's successor, having first tried unsuccessfully to resolve the conflict through military means, sent his grand falconer Berenkesh to Alamoot, requesting that an envoy be sent to negotiate peace. The Khojah (Master) Mohammed Nassihi accompanied Berenkesh back to court and kissed the hand of the sultan, who spoke to him briefly about the peace; but as the Khojah was leaving the palace, he and his followers were attacked and massacred by the people.
When the sultan sent an ambassador to Alamoot to exculpate himself from the guilt of participation in this violation of the laws of nations, Keäh made[Pg 85] answer, "Go back to the sultan, and tell him, in my name, Mohammed Nassihi trusted to your perfidious assurances, and repaired to your court; if you speak truly, deliver up the murderers to justice; if not, expect my vengeance." On the refusal of the sultan to surrender the murderers, a corps of Assassins appeared at the gates of Casveen, slew 400 men, and led away 3,000 sheep, 200 horses, and 200 oxen. Next year the sultan took, and retained for a short time, the fortress of Alamoot; but a body of 2,000 men which he sent against Lamseer fled, without drawing a sword, when they heard that the Refeek (Companions) of the society were marching against them. Shortly afterwards the sultan died, and the Assassins made another incursion into the district of Casveen, where they carried off booty and prisoners.
When the sultan sent an ambassador to Alamoot to clear himself of the blame for this breach of international law, Keäh responded, "Go back to the sultan and tell him, in my name, Mohammed Nassihi trusted your deceitful promises and came to your court; if you’re telling the truth, turn over the murderers to justice; if not, be ready for my revenge." When the sultan refused to hand over the murderers, a group of Assassins appeared at the gates of Casveen, killed 400 men, and took away 3,000 sheep, 200 horses, and 200 oxen. The following year, the sultan captured the fortress of Alamoot and held it for a short time; however, a force of 2,000 men he sent against Lamseer fled without fighting when they heard that the Refeek (Companions) of the society were approaching. Not long after, the sultan died, and the Assassins launched another raid into the Casveen area, where they took more loot and prisoners.
The mountain chief would tolerate no rival near his throne. Hearing that one Aboo Hashem, a descendant of Ali, had arrogated to himself the dignity of imam in the province of Ghilan, which lies north of Kuhistan, and had issued letters calling on the people to acknowledge him, Keäh wrote to him to desist from his pretensions. The self-appointed imam only replied by reviling the odious tenets of the Ismaïlites. The sheikh forthwith sent a body of his troops against him, took him prisoner, and, after trying him by a court-martial, committed him to the flames.
The mountain chief wouldn't accept any rivals close to his throne. When he heard that a man named Aboo Hashem, a descendant of Ali, had proclaimed himself the imam in the province of Ghilan, which is north of Kuhistan, and had sent out letters urging people to recognize him, Keäh wrote to him, demanding that he stop his claims. The self-proclaimed imam only responded by insulting the detestable beliefs of the Ismaïlites. The sheikh immediately dispatched a group of his troops against him, captured him, and after putting him on trial by a court-martial, sentenced him to be burned.
Though, as we have seen, the settlements of the Assassins were in the mountainous region of Irak, in the north-west of Persia, their power was of such a nature that no distance was a security against it. A Fedavee could speedily traverse the intervening regions to plant his dagger in the bosom of any prince or minister who had incurred the vengeance of the Sheikh-al-Jebal. Accordingly we find the shah (King) of Khaurism, between which and Irak lies[Pg 86] the extensive province of Khorasan, coming to Sultan Massood, the successor of Mahmood, to concert with him a plan for the destruction of these formidable foes to princes. The shah of Khaurism had been formerly rather disposed to favour the Ismaïlites, but his eyes were now opened, and he was become their most inveterate enemy. Sultan Massood, we know not for what reason, bestowed on him the lands which Berenkesh, the grand falconer, had held of the sultan. Berenkesh, mortally offended at this unworthy treatment, retired, with his family, to the territory of the Ismaïlites, and sought the protection of Keäh, whose open enemy he had hitherto been. Policy, or a regard to good faith and humanity, made the Assassin prince grant the protection which was required; and when the shah of Khaurism wrote, reminding Keäh of his own former friendship, and the bitter hostility of Berenkesh, and requesting him, on that plea, to give up the fugitive, the sheikh replied, "The shah of Khaurism speaks true, but we will never give up our suppliants." Long and bloody enmity between the sheikh and the shah was the consequence of this refusal to violate the rights of hospitality.
Though, as we’ve seen, the settlements of the Assassins were in the mountainous region of Irak, in the northwest of Persia, their power was such that no distance could protect anyone from it. A Fedavee could quickly travel the intervening areas to drive his dagger into the heart of any prince or minister who had drawn the Sheikh-al-Jebal's wrath. Consequently, we find the shah (King) of Khaurism, located between Irak and the extensive province of Khorasan, approaching Sultan Massood, the successor of Mahmood, to work out a plan to eliminate these formidable enemies of princes. The shah of Khaurism had previously leaned towards supporting the Ismaïlites, but his eyes were now opened, and he had become their fiercest enemy. Sultan Massood, for reasons unknown, granted him the lands that Berenkesh, the grand falconer, had held from the sultan. Mortally offended by this unfair treatment, Berenkesh withdrew with his family to the territory of the Ismaïlites, seeking the protection of Keäh, with whom he had previously been an open enemy. Political strategy, or a sense of good faith and humanity, compelled the Assassin prince to grant the protection that was requested; and when the shah of Khaurism wrote, reminding Keäh of their past friendship and Berenkesh's bitter hostility, asking him to surrender the fugitive based on that, the sheikh replied, "The shah of Khaurism speaks the truth, but we will never hand over our suppliants." This refusal to violate the rights of hospitality resulted in a long and bloody feud between the sheikh and the shah.
The Syrian branch of the society begins at this time to attract rather more attention than that of Persia, chiefly on account of its connexion with the Crusaders, who had succeeded in establishing an empire extending from the frontiers of Egypt to those of Armenia. A Persian Ismaïlite, named Behram of Astrabad, who is said to have commenced his career by the murder of his own father, gained the confidence of the vizir of the prince of Damascus, who gave him the castle of Banias, or Panias (the ancient Balanea), for the use of the society. This place, which became the nucleus of the power of the Assassins in Syria, lies in a fertile, well-watered[Pg 87] plain, about 4,000 paces from the sea. The valley whence the numerous streams which fructify it issue is called the Wadi-al-Jinn (Valley of Demons), "a place," observes Hammer, whom no casual coincidence escapes, "from its very name worthy of becoming a settlement of the Assassins." From Banias they extended their power over the neighbouring castles and fortresses, until, twelve years afterwards, the seat of dominion was transferred thence to Massyat.
The Syrian branch of the society starts to gain more attention than the Persian one, mainly due to its connections with the Crusaders, who created an empire stretching from the borders of Egypt to those of Armenia. A Persian Ismaïlite named Behram of Astrabad, who allegedly began his life of crime by killing his own father, earned the trust of the vizir of the prince of Damascus. The vizir awarded him the castle of Banias, or Panias (the ancient Balanea), for the society's use. This location became the center of the Assassins' power in Syria, situated in a fertile, well-watered[Pg 87] plain, about 4,000 paces from the sea. The valley that feeds it with numerous streams is called the Wadi-al-Jinn (Valley of Demons), which, as Hammer notes, "from its very name, is worthy of becoming a settlement of the Assassins." From Banias, they expanded their influence over the nearby castles and fortresses, until, twelve years later, their center of power moved to Massyat.
Behram fell shortly afterwards in an engagement against the people of the valley of Taïm, the brother of whose chief had perished by the daggers of the Assassins. His successor was Ismaïl, a Persian, who continued the bond of amity with the vizir of Damascus, whither he sent, by way of resident, a man named, rather inappropriately as it would appear, Aboo-'l-Wefa (Father of Fidelity). This man so won the favour of the vizir and prince that he was appointed to the office of Hakem, or supreme judge; and having thus acquired power and influence, he immediately turned his thoughts to the best mode of employing them for the advantage of the society, an object always near the heart of a true Ismaïlite. A place of strength on the sea-coast would, he conceived, be of the utmost importance to them; so he fixed his eyes upon Tyre, and fell upon the following expedient to obtain possession of it.
Behram fell soon after in a battle against the people of the Taïm valley, whose chief's brother had been killed by the Assassins. His successor was Ismaïl, a Persian, who maintained a friendly relationship with the vizir of Damascus. He sent a man named Aboo-'l-Wefa (Father of Fidelity) as a representative, which seemed a bit ironic. This man gained the favor of both the vizir and the prince, leading to his appointment as Hakem, or supreme judge. With this newfound power and influence, he immediately focused on how to use it for the benefit of the community, a goal always important to a true Ismaïlite. He believed that a fortified position on the coast would be crucial for them, so he set his sights on Tyre and devised a plan to take control of it.
The Franks had been now upwards of thirty years established in the East. Their daring and enthusiastic valour was at once the dread and the admiration of their Mussulman foes, and feats almost surpassing the fables of the romances of chivalry had been performed by their gallant warriors. These were the auxiliaries to whom Aboo-'l-Wefa directed his attention; for we are to observe that as yet the fanatic spirit had not united all the Moslems in[Pg 88] enmity against the followers of the Cross, and the princes of Aleppo, Damascus, and the other districts of Syria, had been more than once in alliance with the Christian realms of Jerusalem and Antioch. Aboo-'l-Wefa sent therefore and concluded a secret treaty with Baldwin II., king of Jerusalem, in which he engaged, if the Christian warriors would secretly march and appear before Damascus on a Friday, when the emir and his officers would be at the mosk, to give them possession of the gates of the town. The king was in return to put Tyre into the hands of the Ismaïlites.
The Franks had been established in the East for over thirty years now. Their bold and passionate bravery inspired both fear and admiration in their Muslim enemies, and their heroic acts were almost beyond the tales of chivalry. These were the allies Aboo-'l-Wefa focused on, as it’s important to note that the fanatical spirit had not yet united all Muslims in hatred against the followers of the Cross. The princes of Aleppo, Damascus, and other areas of Syria had formed alliances with the Christian kingdoms of Jerusalem and Antioch more than once. Aboo-'l-Wefa therefore sent for and negotiated a secret treaty with Baldwin II, king of Jerusalem, in which he promised that if the Christian warriors could secretly march and show up at the gates of Damascus on a Friday, while the emir and his officials were at the mosque, he would let them in. In return, the king was to hand over Tyre to the Isma'ilites.
The Christian army was assembled; all the barons of the kingdom appeared in arms; the king in person led the host; the newly-formed military order of the Templars displayed for the first time in the field their striped banner Beauséant, afterwards so well known in many a bloody fray. Prince Bernard of Antioch, Count Pontius of Tripolis, the brave Joscelin of Edessa, led their knights and footmen to share in the capture of the wealthy city of Damascus. The mountains which environ Lake Tiberias were left behind, and the host joyfully emerged into the plain watered by the streams Abana and Pharpar. But here defeat awaited them. Taj-al-Molook (Diadem of Kings) Boozi, the emir of Damascus, had in time discovered the plot of his hakem. He had put him and the vizir to death, and had ordered a general massacre of the Ismaïlites in the city[43]. The Christian army was now at a place named Marj Safar, and the footmen had begun to plunder the villages for food, when a small body of gallant Damascene warriors rushed from the town and fell upon them. The defenceless Christians sank beneath their blows, incapable of resistance. The rest of the army advanced to aid or avenge their brethren, when[Pg 89] suddenly[44] the sky became overcast, thick darkness enveloped all objects, the thunder roared, the lightning flashed, the rain poured down in torrents, and, by a rapid transition, peculiar to Eastern climates, the rain and waters turned into snow and ice, and augmented the horrors of the day. The superstitious and conscience-stricken Crusaders viewed in this awful phenomenon the immediate agency of heaven, and deemed it to be sent as a punishment for their sins; and, recollecting that on that very spot but four years before King Baldwin had gained, with a handful of men, a victory over an army of the Damascenes, they were plunged into grief and humiliation. The only advantage which they derived from this expedition was the acquisition of the castle of Banias, which the Ismaïlite governor put into their hands, that under their protection he might escape the fate of his brethren.
The Christian army was gathered; all the barons of the kingdom showed up in armor; the king personally led the troops; the newly-formed military order of the Templars showcased their striped banner Beauséant for the first time on the battlefield, which would later become famous in many bloody battles. Prince Bernard of Antioch, Count Pontius of Tripolis, and the brave Joscelin of Edessa led their knights and foot soldiers to help capture the wealthy city of Damascus. They left behind the mountains surrounding Lake Tiberias and joyfully entered the plain watered by the streams Abana and Pharpar. But here, defeat awaited them. Taj-al-Molook (Diadem of Kings) Boozi, the emir of Damascus, had discovered his hakem's plot in time. He executed him and the vizier and ordered a general massacre of the Ismaïlites in the city[43]. The Christian army was now at a place called Marj Safar, and the foot soldiers had begun to loot the villages for food when a small group of brave Damascene warriors charged out from the town and attacked them. The defenseless Christians fell to their blows, unable to resist. The rest of the army moved to assist or avenge their brothers, when[Pg 89] suddenly[44] the sky turned dark, thick darkness covered everything, thunder rumbled, lightning flashed, rain poured down like a torrent, and in a quick shift typical of Eastern climates, the rain and water turned into snow and ice, increasing the horrors of the day. The superstitious and guilt-ridden Crusaders interpreted this terrifying phenomenon as an immediate sign from heaven, believing it was sent as punishment for their sins; remembering that just four years earlier, on that very spot, King Baldwin had achieved victory over a Damascene army with just a handful of men, they were overwhelmed with grief and humiliation. The only benefit they gained from this expedition was the capture of the castle of Banias, which the Ismaïlite governor surrendered to them in exchange for their protection from the fate of his fellow countrymen.
Banias was given up to the Christians in the same year in which Alamoot was taken by the Seljookian sultan, and thus the power of the Assassins seemed to be almost gone. But it had in it a conservative principle, and, hydra-like, it grew by its wounds. Alamoot was speedily recovered, and three years afterwards Banias was once more the seat of a Daï-al-Kebir. At the same time the dagger raged with unwonted fury against all of whom the society stood in apprehension, and the annals of the reign of Keäh Buzoorg Oomeid furnish a list of illustrious victims.
Banias was surrendered to the Christians in the same year that Alamoot was captured by the Seljuk sultan, and it seemed like the Assassin's power was almost gone. However, it had a conservative strength, and, like a hydra, it grew stronger from its wounds. Alamoot was quickly reclaimed, and three years later, Banias became the center of a Daï-al-Kebir once again. Meanwhile, the dagger struck with unusual intensity against everyone the society feared, and the records from the reign of Keäh Buzoorg Oomeid provide a list of notable victims.
The first of these was the celebrated Aksunkur, Prince of Mossul, a warrior equally dreaded by the Christians and by the Assassins. As this prince, on his return from Maärra Mesrin, where the Moslem and Christian hosts had parted without venturing to engage, entered the mosk at Mossul to perform his[Pg 90] devotions, he was attacked at the moment when he was about to take his usual seat by eight assassins, disguised as dervishes. Three of them fell beneath the blows of the valiant emir, but ere his people could come to his aid he had received his death-wound and expired. The remainder of the murderers became victims to the vengeance of the people; one youth only escaped. The Arabian historian, Kemal-ed-Deen, relates on this occasion a curious trait of the fanaticism and Spartan spirit which animated the members of the sect of the Ismaïlites. When the mother of the youth above-mentioned heard that the formidable Aksunkur had been slain, she painted her face and put on her gayest raiment and ornaments, rejoicing that her son had been found worthy to die the glorious death of a martyr in the cause of the Imam. But when she saw him return alive and unscathed, she cut off her hair and blackened her countenance, and would not be comforted.
The first of these was the famous Aksunkur, Prince of Mossul, a warrior feared by both Christians and the Assassins. As this prince was returning from Maärra Mesrin, where the Muslim and Christian forces had parted without fighting, he entered the mosque in Mossul to perform his [Pg 90] prayers when he was attacked by eight assassins disguised as dervishes. Three of them fell to the valiant emir's strikes, but before his men could come to help him, he received a mortal wound and died. The remaining murderers were met with the wrath of the people; only one youth managed to escape. The Arabian historian, Kemal-ed-Deen, recounts a notable example of the fanaticism and Spartan spirit that fueled the members of the Ismaïlite sect. When the mother of the aforementioned youth heard that the formidable Aksunkur had been killed, she painted her face and put on her brightest clothes and jewelry, celebrating that her son had been honored to die a martyr for the Imam. However, when she saw him return alive and unharmed, she cut off her hair and blackened her face, refusing to be consoled.
In the following year (1127) fell Moin-ed-deen, the vizir of Sultan Sanjar. In this case the Assassin had engaged himself as a groom in the service of the vizir. As Moin-ed-deen went one day into the stable to look at his horses the Assassin appeared before him, stripped, and holding one of the horses by the bridle. As the vizir, unsuspicious of danger, came near where he was, the false groom made the horse rear, and, under the pretence of soothing and pacifying the restive animal, he took out a small dagger which he had concealed in the horse's mane, and plunged it into the bosom of the vizir.
In the following year (1127), Moin-ed-deen, the vizir of Sultan Sanjar, was killed. In this instance, the Assassin had taken a job as a groom in the vizir's service. One day, when Moin-ed-deen went into the stable to check on his horses, the Assassin appeared before him, stripped down, and holding one of the horses by the bridle. As the vizir, unaware of the danger, approached, the fake groom made the horse rear up, and under the guise of calming the restless animal, he pulled out a small dagger he had hidden in the horse's mane and stabbed the vizir in the chest.
The slaughter of the Ismaïlites by the Prince of Damascus was not forgotten, and two years afterwards he received two dagger wounds, one of which proved mortal. Their vengeance was not appeased by his blood, and his son and successor, Shems-al-Molook (Sun of Kings), perished by a conspiracy[Pg 91] with the guilt of which the Assassins were charged. In the catalogue of the victims of this period appear also the names of the Judges of the East and of the West, of the Mufti of Casveen, of the Reis of Isfahan, and the Reis of Tebreez.
The massacre of the Isma'ilis by the Prince of Damascus was not forgotten, and two years later he was stabbed twice, one of which was fatal. Their thirst for revenge wasn't satisfied by his death, and his son and successor, Shems-al-Molook (Sun of Kings), fell victim to a conspiracy[Pg 91] for which the Assassins were blamed. The list of victims from this time also includes the names of the Judges of the East and West, the Mufti of Casveen, the Reis of Isfahan, and the Reis of Tebreez.
The East has been at all times prolific of crime; human life is not there held to be of the value at which it is estimated in Europe; and the dagger and poison are freely employed to remove objects of apprehension, to put obstacles out of the way of ambition, or to satiate the thirst of vengeance. We are not, therefore, lightly to give credit to every charge made against the Assassins, and to believe them guilty of murders from which they had no advantage to derive. Thus, when at this time the Fatimite Khalif Amir bi-ahkami-llah (Commander of the observance of the laws of God) fell by the hands of murderers, the probability is that he was not a victim to the vengeance of the Ismaïlite society, whom he had never injured, but rather to that of the family of the powerful vizir Afdal, who had been assassinated some time before by the khalif's order, as we have every reason to suppose.
The East has always been a hotbed of crime; human life there is not valued the way it is in Europe. Dagger and poison are used without hesitation to eliminate threats, clear obstacles in the pursuit of ambition, or satisfy a desire for revenge. Therefore, we shouldn't automatically believe every accusation against the Assassins or assume they're guilty of murders that wouldn't benefit them. So, when the Fatimite Khalif Amir bi-ahkami-llah (Commander of the observance of the laws of God) was killed by murderers, it's likely he wasn't a target of the Ismaïlite society, which he had never wronged, but rather a victim of the family of the powerful vizir Afdal, who had been assassinated some time earlier on the khalif's orders, as we have every reason to think.
With a greater show of reason may the murder of Mostarshed, the Khalif of Bagdad, be imputed to the policy of the mountain chief. The Seljookian princes, the predecessors of Massood, had been satisfied to exercise all real power in the empire which had once obeyed the house of Abbas, leaving to that feeble Shadow of God upon Earth the unsubstantial privilege of having the coin of the realm struck and prayers offered on Friday in the mosk in his name. But Massood arrogated even these rights to himself, and the helpless successor of the Prophet was obliged to submit to the indignity which he could not prevent. At length some discontented military chiefs passed with their troops over to the khalif, and[Pg 92] persuaded him that by one bold effort he might overthrow the might of the Turkish sultan, and recover all his rights. The khalif listened to their arguments, and, placing himself at the head of an army, marched against Sultan Massood. But fortune proved adverse to him. At the first shock the greater part of the troops of Bagdad abandoned him, and he remained a captive in the hands of the sultan, who brought him with him a prisoner to Maragha. Here a treaty was concluded between them, and the khalif bound himself not to go any more outside of the walls of Bagdad, and annually to pay a sum of money. This treaty appears to have been displeasing to the Assassins; and, watching their opportunity, when Massood was gone to meet the ambassadors of Sultan Sanjar, a party of them fell upon and massacred the khalif and his train. The lifeless body of the Commander of the Faithful was mangled by them in the most scandalous manner.
The murder of Mostarshed, the Khalif of Bagdad, can be attributed to the strategy of the mountain chief. The Seljookian princes, the predecessors of Massood, had been content to wield all real power in the empire that once answered to the house of Abbas, leaving the weak Shadow of God upon Earth the meaningless privilege of having currency minted and prayers said in his name at Friday mosques. But Massood claimed even those rights for himself, and the powerless successor of the Prophet had to endure an indignity he couldn't prevent. Eventually, some discontented military leaders switched sides and went over to the khalif, convincing him that with one bold move he could defeat the Turkish sultan and reclaim his rights. The khalif entertained their suggestions, and leading an army, marched against Sultan Massood. However, luck was not on his side. At the first encounter, most of Bagdad's forces deserted him, and he found himself captured by the sultan, who took him prisoner to Maragha. There, a treaty was made, and the khalif agreed not to leave the walls of Bagdad any longer and to pay an annual sum of money. This treaty seemed to upset the Assassins, who seized their chance when Massood went to meet the ambassadors of Sultan Sanjar; a group of them ambushed and killed the khalif and his entourage. The lifeless body of the Commander of the Faithful was treated in the most disgraceful manner by them.
After a blood-stained reign of fourteen years and three days Keäh Buzoorg Oomeid died. Departing from the maxims of Hassan Sabah, who it is probable wished to imitate the conduct of the Prophet, and leave the supreme dignity elective, he appointed his own son, Keäh Mohammed, to be his successor, induced either by paternal partiality, or believing him to be the person best qualified for the office.
After a bloody rule of fourteen years and three days, Keäh Buzoorg Oomeid died. Going against the principles of Hassan Sabah, who likely wanted to follow the example of the Prophet and make the supreme leadership something that could be elected, he chose his own son, Keäh Mohammed, as his successor, driven either by fatherly favoritism or thinking he was the one best suited for the position.
Chapter 7.
Keäh Mohammed—Murder of the Khalif—Castles gained in Syria—Ismaïlite Confession of Faith—Mohammed's Son Hassan gives himself out for the promised Imam—His Followers punished—Succession of Hassan—He abolishes the Law—Pretends to be descended from the Prophet—Is murdered
The policy of the society underwent no alteration on the accession of Mohammed. The dagger still smote its enemies, and as each victim fell, the people who maintained the rights of Ismaïl, and who were kept in rigid obedience to the positive precepts of the Koran, beheld nothing but the right hand of Heaven made bare for the punishment of crime and usurpation. The new mountain prince had hardly taken the reins of government into his hands when Rasheed, the successor of the late khalif, eager to avenge the murder of his father, assembled an army and marched against Alamoot. He had reached Isfahan, but there his march terminated. Four Assassins, who had entered his service for the purpose, fell upon him in his tent and stabbed him. When the news was conveyed to Alamoot great rejoicings were made, and for seven days and seven nights the trumpets and kettle-drums resounded from the towers of the fortress, proclaiming the triumph of the dagger to the surrounding country.
The society's policy didn't change when Mohammed came into power. The dagger still struck its enemies, and with each victim that fell, those who supported Ismaïl and followed the strict rules of the Koran saw nothing but the hand of Heaven ready to punish crime and usurpation. The new mountain prince had barely taken control when Rasheed, the successor to the late khalif, eager to avenge his father's murder, gathered an army and marched on Alamoot. He reached Isfahan, but that was where his march ended. Four Assassins, who had joined him for this purpose, attacked him in his tent and stabbed him. When the news reached Alamoot, there were great celebrations, and for seven days and seven nights, the sound of trumpets and kettle-drums echoed from the fortress towers, announcing the triumph of the dagger to the surrounding lands.
The Syrian dominion of the Ismaïlites was at this time considerably extended. They purchased from Ibn Amroo, their owner, the castles of Cadmos and Kahaf, and took by force that of Massyat from the[Pg 94] lords of Sheiser. This castle, which was situated on the west side of Mount Legam, opposite Antaradus, became henceforth the chief seat of Ismaïlite power in Syria. The society had now a line of coast to the north of Tripolis, and their possessions extended inland to the verge of the Hauran.
The Ismaïlite control over Syria was significantly expanding at this time. They bought the castles of Cadmos and Kahaf from their owner, Ibn Amroo, and took the castle of Massyat by force from the[Pg 94] lords of Sheiser. This castle, located on the west side of Mount Legam, across from Antaradus, became the main center of Ismaïlite power in Syria. The group now had a coastline extending north of Tripolis, and their territory reached inland to the edge of the Hauran.
The reign of Mohammed presents few events to illustrate the history of the Assassins. It was probably in his time that the following confession of the Ismaïlite faith was made to the persons whom Sultan Sanjar sent to Alamoot to inquire into it[45]:
The reign of Mohammed features few events that highlight the history of the Assassins. It was likely during his time that the following confession of the Ismaïlite faith was presented to those whom Sultan Sanjar sent to Alamoot to investigate it[45]:
"This is our doctrine," said the heads of the society. "We believe in the unity of God, and acknowledge as the true wisdom and right creed only that which accords with the word of God and the commands of the Prophet. We hold these as they are delivered in the holy writ, the Koran, and believe in all that the Prophet has taught of the creation, and the last things, of rewards and punishments, of the last judgment, and the resurrection. To believe this is necessary, and no one is authorized to judge of the commands of God for himself, or to alter a single letter in them. These are the fundamental doctrines of our sect, and if the sultan does not approve of them, let him send hither one of his learned divines, that we may argue the matter with him."
"This is our belief," said the leaders of the society. "We believe in the oneness of God and recognize as the true wisdom and right doctrine only that which aligns with the word of God and the teachings of the Prophet. We uphold these as they are presented in the holy text, the Koran, and accept everything the Prophet has taught about creation, the end times, rewards and punishments, the final judgment, and resurrection. It is essential to believe this, and no one is permitted to interpret God's commands for themselves or to change even a single letter of them. These are the core beliefs of our group, and if the sultan disagrees with them, he should send one of his knowledgeable scholars here so we can discuss it with him."
To this creed no orthodox Mussulman could well make any objection. The only question was, what was the Ismaïlite system of interpretation, and what other doctrines did they deduce from the sacred text; and the active employment of the dagger of the Fedavee suggested in tolerably plain terms that there were others, and that something not very compatible with the peace and order of society lay behind the veil. Indeed the circumstance of the Ismaïlite chiefs[Pg 95] professing themselves to be only the ministers and representatives of the invisible imam was in itself highly suspicious; for what was to prevent their enjoining any atrocity which might be for their interest, in the name of their viewless master? They are ignorant indeed of human nature who suppose that a prompt obedience would not be yielded to all such commands by the ignorant and bigoted members of the sect.
To this belief, no traditional Muslim could really object. The only question was about the Ismaïlite way of interpreting things and what other beliefs they drew from the holy text. The frequent use of the dagger by the Fedavee clearly indicated that there were other beliefs, and that something not very compatible with the peace and order of society was hidden beneath the surface. In fact, the fact that the Ismaïlite leaders[Pg 95] claimed to be merely the ministers and representatives of the unseen imam was suspicious; after all, what would stop them from ordering any brutal act that benefited them, in the name of their invisible master? It shows a deep misunderstanding of human nature to think that the ignorant and fanatical members of the sect wouldn't quickly obey such commands.
The ill leaven of the secret doctrine displayed itself before very long. Keäh Mohammed, who appears to have been a weak, inefficient man, was held in little esteem by his followers. They began to attach themselves to his son Hassan, who had the reputation of being a man of prodigious knowledge, learned in tradition and the text of the Koran, versed in exposition, and well acquainted with the sciences. Hassan, either through vanity or policy, began secretly to disseminate the notion of his being himself the imam whose appearance had been promised by Hassan Ben Sabah. Filled with this idea, the more instructed members of the society vied with each other in eagerness to fulfil his commands, and Keäh Mohammed, seeing his power gradually slipping from him, was at length roused to energy. Assembling the people, he reprobated in strong terms the prevailing heresy. "Hassan," said he, "is my son, and I am not the imam, but only one of his missionaries. Whoever maintains the contrary is an infidel." Then, in true Assassin fashion, he gave effect to his words by executing 250 of his son's adherents, and banishing an equal number from the fortress. Hassan himself, in order to save his life, was obliged publicly to curse those who held the new opinions, and to write dissertations condemning their tenets, and defending those of his father. By these means he succeeded in removing suspicion[Pg 96] from the mind of the old chief; but, as he continued to drink wine in private, and violated several of the other positive precepts of the law, his adherents became only the more convinced of his being the imam, at whose coming all the precepts of the law were to cease to be of any force.
The harmful influence of the secret doctrine became apparent soon enough. Keäh Mohammed, who seemed to be a weak and ineffective leader, was not respected by his followers. They started to follow his son Hassan, who was known for his immense knowledge, well-versed in tradition and the text of the Koran, skilled in interpretation, and familiar with various sciences. Either out of vanity or strategy, Hassan began to secretly promote the idea that he was the imam whose arrival had been foretold by Hassan Ben Sabah. Driven by this belief, the more educated members of the group competed to follow his orders, and as Keäh Mohammed noticed his influence fading, he finally took action. He gathered everyone and strongly condemned the growing heresy. "Hassan," he said, "is my son, and I’m not the imam, just one of his messengers. Anyone who claims otherwise is an unbeliever." Then, in typical Assassin fashion, he acted on his words by executing 250 of his son's supporters and exiling an equal number from the fortress. To save himself, Hassan had to publicly curse those who held the new beliefs, write essays denouncing their views, and defend his father's teachings. By doing this, he managed to ease the old chief’s suspicions; however, as he continued to drink wine privately and broke several other clear laws, his followers became even more convinced that he was the imam, whose coming would render all legal precepts irrelevant.
Hassan was obliged to be cautious and conceal his opinions during the lifetime of his father; for, whatever their opinion might be of the capacity and intellectual power of the head of their sect, the Assassins believed themselves to be bound to obey his orders, as proceeding from the visible representative of the sacred invisible imam; and, high as their veneration for Hassan was, his blood would have flowed on the ground the instant an order to that effect had passed the lips of his father. But no sooner was Keäh Mohammed dead, after a reign of twenty-four years, and the supreme station was come to Hassan himself, than he resolved to fling away the mask at once, and not only to trample on the law himself, but to authorize and encourage all his people to do the same.
Hassan had to be careful and hide his true feelings while his father was alive. No matter what they thought of their leader's abilities and intelligence, the Assassins felt they had to follow his orders because he was the visible representative of the sacred unseen imam. As much as they respected Hassan, his blood would have spilled on the ground the moment his father issued such a command. But once Keäh Mohammed died after ruling for twenty-four years, and Hassan took over, he decided to drop the pretense completely. He not only ignored the law himself but also encouraged all his followers to do the same.
Accordingly, when the month Ramazan (the Mohammedan Lent) of the 559th year of the Hejra (A.D. 1163) was come, he ordered all the inhabitants of Roodbar to assemble on the place of prayer (Mosella), or esplanade, before the castle of Alamoot. Facing the direction of the Keblah[46] he caused a pulpit to be erected, at whose four corners were displayed banners of the different hues familiar to Islam, namely, a white, a red, a yellow, a green, colours adverse to the black of the Abbassides.
Accordingly, when the month of Ramadan (the Muslim Lent) in the 559th year of the Hijra (A.D. 1163) arrived, he ordered all the people of Roodbar to gather at the place of prayer (Mosella), or esplanade, in front of the castle of Alamoot. Facing the direction of the Qibla[46] he had a pulpit built, at whose four corners were displayed banners of various colors associated with Islam, specifically white, red, yellow, and green, colors that contrasted with the black of the Abbasids.
On the 17th day of the month the people, in obedience to his commands, appeared in great numbers beneath the walls of the fortress. After a little[Pg 97] time Hassan came forth and ascended the pulpit. All voices were hushed; expectation waited on the words of the Sheikh-al-Jebal. He commenced his discourse by perplexing the minds of his auditors by enigmatical and obscure sentences. When he had thus deluded them for some time, he informed them that an envoy of the imam (that is, the phantom of a khalif who was still sitting on the throne at Cairo) had arrived, and had brought him a letter addressed to all Ismaïlites, whereby the fundamental tenets of the sect were renewed and confirmed. He proceeded to assure them that, by this letter, the gates of mercy and compassion had been opened for all who would follow and obey him; that they were the true elect; that they were freed from all obligations of the law, and delivered from the burden of all commands and prohibitions; that he had now conducted them to the day of the resurrection, that is, of the revelation of the imam. He then commenced in Arabic the Khootbeh, or public prayer, which he said he had received from the imam; and an interpreter, who stood at the foot of the pulpit, translated it for them to the following effect:—
On the 17th day of the month, the people, following his orders, gathered in large numbers beneath the fortress walls. After a short[Pg 97] while, Hassan came out and took his place on the pulpit. Silence fell; everyone was waiting for the words of the Sheikh-al-Jebal. He began his speech by confusing his audience with mysterious and unclear statements. After leading them on like this for some time, he told them that a messenger from the imam (the figure of a khalif still seated on the throne in Cairo) had arrived, bringing a letter for all Ismaïlites, which renewed and confirmed the basic beliefs of the sect. He went on to assure them that this letter had opened the gates of mercy and compassion for anyone willing to follow and obey him; that they were the true chosen ones; that they were no longer bound by the law and were freed from the weight of all commands and prohibitions; that he had brought them to the day of resurrection, meaning the time of the imam's revelation. He then began the Khootbeh, or public prayer, in Arabic, which he claimed to have received from the imam, and an interpreter at the foot of the pulpit translated it for them as follows:—
"Hassan, the son of Mohammed, the son of Buzoorg Oomeid, is our khalif (successor), dai, and hoojet (proof). All who follow our doctrine must hearken to him in affairs of faith and of the world, and regard his commands as imperative, his words as impressive. They must not transgress his prohibitions, and they must regard his commands as ours. They should know that our lord has had compassion upon them, and has conducted them to the most high God."
"Hassan, the son of Mohammed, the son of Buzoorg Oomeid, is our caliph (successor), guide, and proof (hoojet). Everyone who follows our beliefs must listen to him in matters of faith and daily life, and consider his commands as essential, his words as significant. They must not ignore his prohibitions, and they should see his commands as our own. They need to understand that our Lord has shown mercy to them and has led them to the most high God."
When this proclamation was made known Hassan came down from the pulpit, directed tables to be spread, and commanded the people to break the fast, and to give themselves up, as on festival days, to all[Pg 98] kinds of enjoyment, with music, and various games and sports. "For this," cried he, "this is the day of the resurrection;" that is, according to the Ismaïlite mode of interpreting the Koran, the day of the manifestation of the imam.
When this announcement was made, Hassan stepped down from the pulpit, instructed the tables to be set, and told the people to break their fast and indulge, just like on festive days, in all[Pg 98] kinds of enjoyment, with music and various games and sports. "For this," he exclaimed, "this is the day of resurrection;" meaning, according to the Ismaïlite interpretation of the Koran, the day of the imam's manifestation.
What the orthodox had before only suspected was now confirmed. It was now manifest, beyond doubt, that the Ismaïlites were heretics who trampled under foot all the most plain and positive precepts of Islam; for, though they might pretend to justify their practice by their allegorical system of interpretation, it was clearly repugnant to common sense, and might be made the instrument of sanctioning, under the name of religion, every species of enormity. From this time the term Moolahid (impious) began to become the common and familiar appellation of the Ismaïlites in the mouths of the orthodox Moslems. As to the Ismaïlites themselves, they rejoiced in what they had done; they exalted like emancipated bondsmen in the liberty which they had acquired; and they even commenced a new era from the 17th (or, according to some authorities, the 7th) Ramazan of the 559th year, namely, the day of the manifestation of the imam. To the name of Hassan they henceforth affixed the formula "On his memory be peace;" which formula, it would appear, was employed by itself to designate him; for the historian Mirkhond assures us that he had been informed by a credible person that over the door of the library in Alamoot was the following inscription:—
What the orthodox had only suspected before was now confirmed. It was clear, without a doubt, that the Ismaïlites were heretics who disregarded all the clear and direct teachings of Islam. Although they might try to defend their actions with their allegorical system of interpretation, it was obviously contrary to common sense and could justify, under the name of religion, all kinds of wrongdoing. From this point on, the term Moolahid (impious) began to commonly refer to the Ismaïlites among the orthodox Muslims. As for the Ismaïlites themselves, they celebrated what they had achieved; they felt liberated like freed slaves in the freedom they had gained; and they even started a new era from the 17th (or, according to some sources, the 7th) Ramazan of the 559th year, marking the day of the imam's manifestation. To the name of Hassan, they added the phrase "On his memory be peace;" which seems to have been used by itself to refer to him. The historian Mirkhond tells us that he was informed by a reliable source that above the entrance of the library in Alamoot, there was the following inscription:—
He removed the law, The leader of the world,
"Whose name brings peace."
The madness of Hassan now attained its climax. He disdained to be regarded, like his predecessors, as merely the representative of the imam on earth,[Pg 99] but asserted himself to be the true and real imam, who was now at length made manifest to the world. He sent letters to all the settlements of the society, requiring them to acknowledge him in his new capacity. He was prudent enough, however, to show a regard for the dignity and power of his different lieutenants in these letters, as appears by the following specimen, being the letter which was sent to Kuhistan, where the reis Mozaffar commanded:—
The madness of Hassan had now reached its peak. He refused to be seen, like his predecessors, as just the representative of the imam on earth,[Pg 99] but instead claimed to be the true and real imam, who was finally revealed to the world. He sent letters to all the communities in the society, demanding that they recognize him in this new role. However, he was smart enough to respect the dignity and authority of his various lieutenants in these letters, as shown in the following example, which was sent to Kuhistan, where the leader Mozaffar was in charge:—
"I Hassan say unto you that I am the representative of God upon earth, and mine in Kuhistan is the reis Mozaffar, whom the men of that country are to obey, and to receive his word as mine."
"I, Hassan, say to you that I am God's representative on earth, and in Kuhistan, the leader is Mozaffar, whom the people of that region must obey and accept his words as if they were my own."
The reis erected a pulpit in the castle of Moominabad, the place of his residence, and read the letter aloud to the people, the greater part of whom listened to its contents with joy. The tables were covered before the pulpit, the wine was brought forth, the drums and kettle-drums resounded, the notes of the pipe and flute inspired joy, and the day of the abolition of the positive precepts of the law was devoted to mirth and festivity. Some few, who were sincere and upright in their obedience to Islam, quitted the region which they now regarded as the abode of infidelity, and went in search of other abodes; others, of a less decided character, remained, though shocked at what they were obliged every day to behold. The obedience to the commands of the soi-disant imam was, however, tolerably general, and, according to Hammer, who can scarcely, however, be supposed to regard the system of Hassan as really more licentious than he has elsewhere described that of Mahomet, "the banner of the freest infidelity, and of the most shameless immorality, now waved on all the castles of Roodbar and Kuhistan, as the standard of the new illumination; and, instead of the name of the Egyptian khalif, resounded from[Pg 100] all the pulpits that of Hassan as the true successor of the Prophet."
The ruler set up a pulpit in the castle of Moominabad, where he lived, and read the letter out loud to the people, most of whom listened with happiness. The tables were laid out in front of the pulpit, wine was served, drums and kettle-drums echoed, and the sounds of the pipe and flute filled the air with joy. The day marking the end of strict religious laws was filled with celebration and fun. A few people, who were genuine and committed to Islam, left the area, now seeing it as a place of disbelief, searching for other homes. Others, less certain, stayed behind, though they were troubled by what they had to witness every day. However, many generally followed the commands of the so-called imam, and according to Hammer, who is unlikely to portray Hassan's system as more immoral than what he's described regarding Muhammad, "the banner of the freest infidelity, and of the most shameless immorality, now waved over all the castles of Roodbar and Kuhistan as the emblem of the new enlightenment; and instead of the name of the Egyptian caliph, the name of Hassan echoed from[Pg 100] all the pulpits as the true successor of the Prophet."
The latter point had presented some difficulty to Hassan; for, in order to satisfy the people on that head, it was necessary to prove a descent from the Prophet, and this was an honour to which it was well known the family from which he was sprung had never laid claim. He might take upon him to abolish the positive precepts of the law as he pleased, and the people, whose inclinations were thereby gratified, would not perhaps scan very narrowly the authority by which he acted; but the attempt to deprive the Fatimite khalif of the honour which he had so long enjoyed, and to assume the rank of God's viceregent on earth in his room, was likely to give too great a shock to their prejudices, if not cautiously managed.
The latter point had posed some challenges for Hassan; because, to reassure the people on that matter, he needed to prove his descent from the Prophet, an honor that the family he came from had never claimed. He could easily disregard the strict rules of the law as he wished, and the people, pleased by this, might not question the authority he acted upon too closely; however, trying to strip the Fatimite caliph of the honor he had long held and take on the role of God's representative on earth in his place was likely to deeply disturb their beliefs, if not handled carefully.
It was necessary, therefore, that he should prove himself to be of the blood of the Fatimites. He accordingly began to drop some dark hints respecting the truth of the received opinion of his being the son of Keäh Mohammed. Our readers will recollect that, when Hassan Sabah was in Egypt, a dispute had taken place respecting the succession to the throne, in which Hassan had nearly lost his life for opposing the powerful commander-in-chief (Emir-al-Jooyoosh), and Nezar, the prince for whom the khalif Mostanser had designed the succession, had been deprived of his right by the influence of that officer. The confidents of Hassan now began to give out that, in about a year after the death of the khalif Mostanser, a certain person named Aboo-'l-Zeide, who had been high in his confidence, had come to Alamoot, bearing with him a son of Nezar, whom he committed to the care of Hassan Sabah, who, grateful to the memory of the khalif and his son, had received the fugitive with great honour, and assigned a village at the foot of Alamoot for the[Pg 101] residence of the young imam. When the youth was grown up he married and had a son, whom he named On his Memory be Peace. Just at the time when the imam's wife was confined in the village, the consort of Keäh Mohammed lay in at the castle; and, in order that the descendant of Fatima might come to the temporal power which was his right, a confidential woman undertook and succeeded in the task of secretly changing the children. Others went still further, and did not hesitate to assert that the young imam had intrigued with the wife of Keäh Mohammed, and that Hassan was the fruit of their adulterous intercourse. Like a true pupil of ambition, Hassan was willing to defame the memory of his mother, and acknowledge himself to be a bastard, provided he could succeed in persuading the people to believe him a descendant of the Prophet.
It was essential, therefore, for him to prove that he was of the lineage of the Fatimites. He started to drop some vague hints about the truth of the widely held belief that he was the son of Keäh Mohammed. Our readers might remember that when Hassan Sabah was in Egypt, there had been a dispute about who would succeed to the throne, during which Hassan nearly lost his life for opposing the powerful commander-in-chief (Emir-al-Jooyoosh). Nezar, the prince whom the khalif Mostanser had intended for succession, had been stripped of his rights due to that officer's influence. Hassan's associates began to claim that about a year after the death of khalif Mostanser, a man named Aboo-'l-Zeide, who had been highly trusted by him, had arrived in Alamoot with a son of Nezar, whom he entrusted to Hassan Sabah. Grateful to the memory of the khalif and his son, Hassan welcomed the fugitive warmly and provided a village at the foot of Alamoot for the[Pg 101] young imam to live in. Once the young man grew up, he married and had a son, whom he named On his Memory be Peace. At the same time that the imam's wife was giving birth in the village, Keäh Mohammed's wife was delivering at the castle. To ensure that the descendant of Fatima could claim the temporal power that rightfully belonged to him, a trusted woman took on and successfully completed the task of secretly swapping the children. Some went even further, claiming that the young imam had an affair with Keäh Mohammed’s wife, and that Hassan was the result of their illicit relationship. Like a true student of ambition, Hassan was ready to tarnish his mother's memory and admit he was a bastard, as long as he could convince people he was a descendant of the Prophet.
These pretensions of Hassan to a Fatimite pedigree gave rise to a further increase of the endless sects into which the votaries of Islam were divided. Those who acknowledged it got the name of Nezori, and by them Hassan was called the Lord of the Resurrection (Kaim-al-Kiamet), and they styled themselves the Sect of the Resurrection.
These claims of Hassan to a Fatimite ancestry led to an even greater rise in the countless sects among the followers of Islam. Those who accepted this began to be known as Nezori, and they referred to Hassan as the Lord of the Resurrection (Kaim-al-Kiamet), and they called themselves the Sect of the Resurrection.
The reign of the vain, inconsiderate Hassan was but short. He had governed the society only four years when he was assassinated by his brother-in-law, Namver, a descendant, we are told, of the family of Buyah, which had governed the khalifs and their dominions before the power passed into the hands of the Turkish house of Seljook.
The reign of the vain and thoughtless Hassan was brief. He had ruled the society for only four years when he was killed by his brother-in-law, Namver, who is said to be a descendant of the Buyah family, which had ruled the caliphs and their territories before power shifted to the Turkish Seljook dynasty.
Chapter 8.
Mohammed II.—Anecdote of the Imam Fakhr-ed-deen—Noor-ed-deen—Conquest of Egypt—Attempt on the Life of Saladin.
The death of Hassan was amply avenged by his son and successor, Mohammed II. Not only was the murderer himself put to death; vengeance, in its oriental form, extended itself to all his kindred of both sexes, and men, women, and children bled beneath the sword of the executioner. Mohammed, who had been carefully trained up in the study of philosophy and literature, was, like his father, puffed up with vanity and ambition, and, far from receding from any of his predecessor's pretensions to the imamat, he carried them to even a still greater length than he had done. At the same time he maintained a high character for knowledge and talent among his literary contemporaries, who were numerous, for his reign extended through a period of forty-six years, and the modern Persian literature was now fast approaching its climax. Not to mention other names, less familiar to our readers, we shall remark, as a proof of what we have said, that this was the period in which Nizamee of Ghenj sang in harmonious numbers the loves of Khosroo and Shireen, and of Mujnoon and Leila (these last the Romeo and Juliet of the east), the crown and flower of the romantic poetry of Persia. Then too flourished the great panegyrist Enveree, and a crowd of historians, jurists, and divines.
The death of Hassan was thoroughly avenged by his son and successor, Mohammed II. Not only was the murderer executed; vengeance, in its traditional form, was taken against all his relatives, including men, women, and children, who fell victim to the sword of the executioner. Mohammed, who had been carefully educated in philosophy and literature, was, like his father, filled with vanity and ambition, and instead of stepping back from his predecessor's claims to leadership, he pushed them even further. At the same time, he earned a strong reputation for knowledge and talent among his literary peers, who were numerous since his reign lasted forty-six years, during which modern Persian literature was quickly reaching its height. Among other notable figures, it was during this time that Nizamee of Ghenj beautifully expressed the loves of Khosroo and Shireen, and Mujnoon and Leila (the Romeo and Juliet of the East), representing the pinnacle of romantic poetry in Persia. This era also saw the rise of the great poet Enveree, along with a multitude of historians, jurists, and scholars.
One of the most celebrated men of this time was[Pg 103] the imam Fakhr-ed-deen (Glory of Religion) Rasi, who gave public lectures on the law in his native city of Rei. It being slanderously reported that he was devoted in secret to the opinions of the Ismaïlites, and was even one of their missionaries, he adopted the ordinary expedient of abusing and reviling that sect, and each time he ascended the pulpit to preach he reprobated and cursed the Impious in no measured terms. Intelligence of what he was about was not long in reaching the eyrie of the Sheikh-al-Jebal, and a Fedavee received his instructions, and forthwith set out for Rei. He here entered himself as a student of the law, and sedulously attended the lectures of the learned imam. During seven months he watched in vain for an opportunity of executing his commission. At length he discovered one day that the attendants of the imam had left him to go to fetch him some food, and that he was alone in his study. The Fedavee entered, fastened the doors, seized the imam, cast him on the ground, and directed his dagger at his bosom. "What is thy design?" said the astonished imam. "To rip up thy belly and breast." "And wherefore?" "Wherefore? Because thou hast spoken evil of the Ismaïlites in the pulpit." The imam implored and entreated, vowing that, if his life was spared, he would never more say aught to offend the sect of Ismaïl. "I cannot trust thee," cried the Assassin; "for when I am gone thou wilt return to thy old courses, and, by some ingenious shift or other, contrive to free thyself from the obligation of thy oath." The imam then, with a most solemn oath, abjured the idea of explaining away his words, or seeking absolution for perjury. The Assassin got up from over him, saying, "I had no order to slay thee, or I should have put thee to death without fail. Mohammed, the son of Hassan, greets thee, and invites thee to honour[Pg 104] him by a visit at his castle. Thou shalt there have unlimited power, and we will all obey thee like trusty servants. We despise, so saith the sheikh, the discourses of the rabble, which rebound from our ears like nuts from a ball; but you should not revile us, since your words impress themselves like the strokes of the graver in the stone." The imam replied that it was totally out of his power to go to Alamoot, but that in future he should be most careful never to suffer a word to pass his lips to the discredit of the mountain prince. Hereupon the Fedavee drew 300 pieces of gold from his girdle, and, laying them down, said, "See! here is thy annual pension; and, by a decree of the divan, thou shalt every year receive an equal sum through the reis Mozaffer. I also leave thee, for thy attendants, two garments from Yemen, which the Sheikh-al-Jebal has sent thee." So saying, the Fedavee disappeared. The imam took the money and the clothes, and for some years his pension was paid regularly. A change in his language now became perceptible, for, whereas he was used before, when, on treating of any controverted point, he had occasion to mention the Ismaïlites, to express himself thus, "Whatever the Ismaïlites, whom God curse and destroy! may say,"—now that he was pensioned he contented himself with merely saying, "Notwithstanding what the Ismaïlites may say." When one of his scholars asked him the cause of this change he made answer, "We cannot curse the Ismaïlites, they employ such sharp and convincing arguments." This anecdote is related by several of the Persian historians, and it serves to prove, like the case of sultan Sanjar, related above, that the Ismaïlites were not so thoroughly ruthless and bloodthirsty as not to prefer rendering an enemy innocuous by gentle means to depriving him of life.
One of the most famous men of this time was[Pg 103] Imam Fakhr-ed-deen (Glory of Religion) Rasi, who gave public lectures on the law in his hometown of Rei. Rumors spread maliciously that he secretly supported the beliefs of the Ismaïlites and was even one of their missionaries, so he took the usual approach of criticizing and condemning that group. Every time he preached from the pulpit, he harshly criticized and cursed the Impious. News of his actions quickly reached the stronghold of Sheikh-al-Jebal, and a Fedavee received instructions to go to Rei. He enrolled as a law student and diligently attended the imam’s lectures. For seven months, he waited in vain for a chance to carry out his mission. One day, he noticed that the imam's attendants had left to bring him food, leaving him alone in his study. The Fedavee entered, locked the doors, seized the imam, threw him to the ground, and aimed his dagger at him. "What are you planning to do?" asked the shocked imam. "To gut you." "And why?" "Because you've spoken ill of the Ismaïlites from the pulpit." The imam pleaded, promising that if his life were spared, he would never again say anything against the Ismaïlites. "I can't trust you," the Assassin replied; "as soon as I leave, you'll return to your old ways and find some clever way to avoid your vow." The imam then swore an earnest oath that he would never try to twist his words or seek forgiveness for breaking his promise. The Assassin got off him, saying, "I wasn’t sent to kill you, or I would have done it without hesitation. Mohammed, son of Hassan, sends his regards and invites you to honor[Pg 104] him with a visit at his castle. You’ll have absolute power there, and we’ll all follow you like loyal servants. We, as the sheikh says, disregard the talk of the masses, which bounces off us like nuts off a ball, but you shouldn’t insult us, since your words stick like the marks of a engraver on stone." The imam replied that it was completely impossible for him to go to Alamoot, but he promised to be very careful in the future not to say anything against the mountain prince. The Fedavee then pulled out 300 gold coins from his belt and laid them down, saying, "Look! Here’s your annual stipend; by a decree from the divan, you’ll receive the same amount every year through Reis Mozaffer. I’m also leaving you two garments from Yemen for your attendants, which the Sheikh-al-Jebal has sent you." With that, the Fedavee vanished. The imam took the money and the clothes, and for several years, he received his stipend regularly. A noticeable change in his language followed; whereas he used to say, when discussing any controversial topic that involved the Ismaïlites, "Whatever the Ismaïlites, may God curse and destroy them! say," now that he was receiving a pension, he simply said, "Notwithstanding what the Ismaïlites may say." When one of his students asked him why he had changed, he replied, "We cannot curse the Ismaïlites; they use such sharp and convincing arguments." This story is told by several Persian historians and shows, like the case of Sultan Sanjar mentioned earlier, that the Ismaïlites preferred to neutralize an enemy through gentle means rather than kill them.
Historians record no other event connected with[Pg 105] the eastern establishment of the Ismaïlite society during the long-reign of Mohammed II. We shall now, therefore, turn our view to the Syrian branch, which attracts attention by the illustrious names which appear in oriental history at that time, and with which the ruler of Massyat came into hostile or friendly relations. The names of Noor-ed-deen (Light of Religion), Salah-ed-deen (Integrity of Religion), the Noradin and Saladin of western writers, and the Lion-hearted king of England, will at once awake the attention of the reader.
Historians note no other event related to[Pg 105] the eastern foundation of the Ismaïlite society during the long reign of Mohammed II. We will now shift our focus to the Syrian branch, which draws interest due to the prominent figures appearing in Eastern history at that time, with whom the ruler of Massyat interacted, whether in conflict or friendship. The names of Noor-ed-deen (Light of Religion), Salah-ed-deen (Integrity of Religion), the Noradin and Saladin referenced by Western writers, and the Lion-hearted king of England, will immediately capture the reader's attention.
The celebrated Emod-ed-deen (Pillar of Religion) Zengi, who gave the Christian power in the east its first shock by the conquest of Edessa, perished by the hand of a slave shortly after that achievement. His power and the title Atabeg fell to his son Noor-ed-deen, who carried on the war against the Christians with all the activity of his father, and with more of the gentleness and courtesies which shed a lustre on zeal and valour. Noor-ed-deen was one of the most accomplished characters which the East has exhibited. He was generous and just, and strict in the observance of all the duties of Islam. No pomp or magnificence surrounded him. He wore neither silk nor gold. With the fifth part of the booty, which was his share as prince, he provided for all his expenses. A zealous Moslem, he was evermore engaged in the combats of the Holy War,—either the greater, which was held to be fought against the world and its temptations by fasting and prayer, by study, and the daily practice of the virtues required of him who is placed in authority,—or the lesser, which was fought with natural weapons against the foes of Islam. From this union of piety and valour he acquired the titles of Gasi (Victor) and Sheheed (Martyr); for, though he did not fall in the defence of the faith, he was regarded as being entitled to all the future rewards attendant[Pg 106] on actual martyrdom. Notwithstanding his being one of the most deadly foes that the Christians ever encountered, their historians did justice to the illustrious Noor-ed-deen, and the learned William, Archbishop of Tyre, says of him, "He was a prudent, moderate man, who feared God according to the faith of his people, fortunate, and an augmenter of his paternal inheritance."
The famous Emod-ed-deen (Pillar of Religion) Zengi, who dealt the Christian powers in the east their first blow by conquering Edessa, was killed by a slave shortly after that victory. His power and the title Atabeg passed to his son Noor-ed-deen, who continued the fight against the Christians with the same energy as his father, but with more kindness and courtesy that highlighted his zeal and bravery. Noor-ed-deen was one of the most impressive figures in the East. He was generous and fair, strictly following all the duties of Islam. He had no grand displays or opulence surrounding him. He did not wear silk or gold. He used one-fifth of the spoils, his share as a prince, to cover all his expenses. A devoted Muslim, he was constantly engaged in the battles of the Holy War—either the greater, which involved fighting against the world and its temptations through fasting and prayer, study, and the daily practice of the virtues expected from someone in authority, or the lesser, which was fought with physical means against the enemies of Islam. Through the combination of piety and bravery, he earned the titles of Gasi (Victor) and Sheheed (Martyr); for, even though he did not die defending the faith, he was considered deserving of all the future rewards associated with true martyrdom. Despite being one of the most formidable foes the Christians ever faced, their historians acknowledged the remarkable Noor-ed-deen, and the learned William, Archbishop of Tyre, described him as "a sensible, moderate man, who feared God according to his people's faith, successful, and a benefactor of his ancestral inheritance."
The possession of Mossul and Aleppo made Noor-ed-deen master of northern Syria; the southern part of that country was under the Prince of Damascus. Twice did the atabeg lay siege, without effect, to that city; at length the inhabitants, fearing the Crusaders, invited him to take possession of it, and the feeble prince was obliged to retire, accepting Emessa in exchange for the "Queen of Syria." The power of Noor-ed-deen now extended from the Euphrates to the Holy Land, and his thoughts were directed towards his grand object of expelling the Franks from the East, when an opportunity presented itself of bringing Egypt once more under the spiritual dominion of the house of Abbas.
The control of Mosul and Aleppo made Noor-ed-deen the ruler of northern Syria; the southern part of the region was under the Prince of Damascus. The atabeg attempted to lay siege to that city twice, but with no success; eventually, the residents, fearing the Crusaders, invited him to take control of it, and the weak prince had to back down, accepting Emessa in return for the "Queen of Syria." Noor-ed-deen's influence now stretched from the Euphrates to the Holy Land, and he focused on his main goal of driving the Franks out of the East when an opportunity arose to bring Egypt back under the spiritual leadership of the house of Abbas.
Degeneracy is the inevitable lot of unlimited power. The Fatimite Commanders of the Faithful were now become mere puppets in the hands of their ministers, and the post of vizir was now, as was so often the case with the throne, contended for with arms. A civil war was at this time raging in Egypt between Shaver and Dhargam, rival candidates for the viziriate. The former came in person to Damascus, and offered the atabeg Noor-ed-deen a third of the revenues of Egypt if he would aid him to overcome his rival. Without hesitation Noor-ed-deen ordered Asad-ed-deen (Lion of Religion) Sheerkoh (Mountain Lion)[47], a Koordish chief who commanded for him at Emessa, to assemble an army and march for[Pg 107] Egypt. Sheerkoh obeyed, and sorely against his will, and only at the urgent command of Noor-ed-deen, did his nephew, the then little known, afterwards so justly famous, Saladin, quit the banquets and enjoyments of Damascus, and the other towns of Syria, to accompany his uncle to the toils and the perils of war. Dhargam was victorious in the first action, but he being murdered shortly afterwards by one of his slaves, Shaver obtained possession of the dignity which he sought. The new vizir then tried to get rid of his allies, but such was not the intention of Noor-ed-deen, and Sheerkoh took his post with his troops in the north-eastern part of the kingdom, where he occupied the frontier town of Belbeïs, on the most eastern branch of the Nile, under pretext of receiving the third part of the revenue which had been promised to Noor-ed-deen. Shaver, anxious to get rid of such dangerous guests, formed a secret league with Amalric, King of Jerusalem, and engaged to give him 60,000 ducats for his aid against them. Sheerkoh, who had been reinforced, advanced into Upper Egypt, and Saladin took the command of Alexandria, which he gallantly defended for three months against the combined forces of the Christians and Egyptians, and, after some fighting, peace was made on condition of Noor-ed-deen receiving 50,000 ducats, and double that sum being paid annually to the King of Jerusalem.
Degeneracy is the inevitable result of unchecked power. The Fatimite Commanders of the Faithful had become mere puppets controlled by their ministers, and the position of vizir was now often fought over with weapons. A civil war was raging in Egypt between Shaver and Dhargam, two rival candidates for the viziriate. The former came to Damascus in person and offered the atabeg Noor-ed-deen a third of Egypt’s revenue if he would help him defeat his rival. Without hesitation, Noor-ed-deen ordered Asad-ed-deen (Lion of Religion) Sheerkoh (Mountain Lion)[47], a Kurdish chief he commanded at Emessa, to gather an army and head for[Pg 107] Egypt. Sheerkoh complied, and, reluctantly and only under Noor-ed-deen's urgent command, his nephew Saladin—who at that time was relatively unknown but would later become famous—left the feasts and comforts of Damascus and other Syrian cities to join his uncle in the struggles and dangers of war. Dhargam was victorious in the first battle, but shortly after, he was murdered by one of his slaves, allowing Shaver to claim the title he sought. The new vizir then attempted to dispose of his allies, but Noor-ed-deen had other plans, and Sheerkoh positioned his troops in the northeastern part of the kingdom, taking control of the frontier town of Belbeïs on the eastern branch of the Nile, under the pretense of collecting the promised third of the revenue for Noor-ed-deen. Eager to eliminate such dangerous allies, Shaver secretly conspired with Amalric, King of Jerusalem, and agreed to pay him 60,000 ducats for his help against them. Sheerkoh, having been reinforced, moved into Upper Egypt, while Saladin took command of Alexandria, which he bravely defended for three months against the combined forces of the Christians and Egyptians. After some fighting, peace was reached on the condition that Noor-ed-deen would receive 50,000 ducats, and double that amount would be paid annually to the King of Jerusalem.
Shortly afterwards an unprincipled attempt was made on Egypt by Amalric, at the suggestion of the Master of the Hospitallers, and Shaver, in his distress, had once more recourse to Noor-ed-deen. The phantom-khalif joined in the supplication, and sent what is the greatest mark of need in the east—locks of the hair of his women, which is as much as to say, "Aid! aid! the foe is dragging the women forth by the hair." Belbeïs had now been conquered, and[Pg 108] Cairo was besieged by the Christians. Shaver had burnt the old town, and defended himself and the khalif in the new town, the proper Cairo. Sheerkoh appeared once more in Egypt with a larger army than before[48], but, ere he reached the beleaguered town, Shaver and Amalric had entered into a composition, and the former had withdrawn on receiving a sum of 50,000 ducats. Sheerkoh however advanced, and pitched his tents before the walls of Cairo. The khalif Adhad and his principal nobles came forth to receive him, and that unhappy prince made his complaints of the tyranny and selfishness of Shaver, who had brought so much misery on him and his kingdom. He concluded by requesting the head of his vizir at the hand of the general of Noor-ed-deen. Shaver, aware of the danger which menaced him, invited Sheerkoh, his nephew, and the other chiefs of the army, to a banquet, with the intention of destroying them, but his plot was discovered, and his head cast at the feet of the khalif. Sheerkoh was forthwith appointed to the vacant dignity, with the honourable title of Melik-el-Mansoor (Victorious King), but he enjoyed it only for a short time, having been carried off by death in little more than two months after his elevation. He was succeeded in his rank, and in the[Pg 109] command of the army, by his nephew Saladin, who now became in effect master of Egypt. Noor-ed-deen, thinking the time was come for establishing the spiritual sway of the house of Abbas, sent directions to Saladin to fill all the offices which had been occupied by the Sheähs with the orthodox, and hear prayer celebrated in the name of the Khalif of Bagdad; but this prudent chief, who knew that the great majority of the people of Egypt were firmly attached to the belief of the Fatimites being the rightful successors of the Prophet, hesitated to comply. At length the death of the Fatimite khalif occurred most opportunely to free him from embarrassment. Adhad-ladin-Allah, the last of the descendants of Moez-ladin-Allah, the founder of the dynasty, died suddenly—of disease, according to the oriental historians,—by the hand of Saladin, according to the rumour which went among the Christians[49]. All obstacles being now removed, public prayer was celebrated in the mosks of Egypt in the name of the Abbasside khalif, and the power of the western Ismaïlites, after a continuance of 200 years, brought completely to an end.
Shortly after, an unscrupulous attempt on Egypt was made by Amalric, suggested by the Master of the Hospitallers. In his distress, Shaver once again turned to Noor-ed-deen for help. The phantom-khalif joined in the plea and sent what is considered the greatest sign of desperation in the East—locks of hair from his women, meaning, “Help! help! the enemy is dragging the women away by their hair.” Belbeïs had now been conquered, and Cairo was under siege by the Christians. Shaver had burned the old town and was defending himself and the khalif in the new town, proper Cairo. Sheerkoh appeared again in Egypt with a larger army than before, but before he reached the besieged city, Shaver and Amalric had made a deal, and Shaver retreated after receiving 50,000 ducats. However, Sheerkoh moved forward and set up his camp outside the walls of Cairo. The khalif Adhad and his main nobles came out to meet him, and that unfortunate prince complained about the tyranny and selfishness of Shaver, who had caused so much suffering for him and his kingdom. He concluded by asking for his vizier's head from the general of Noor-ed-deen. Knowing the danger he faced, Shaver invited Sheerkoh, his nephew, and the other army leaders to a banquet with the intention of killing them. However, his plan was discovered, and he was executed at the feet of the khalif. Sheerkoh was immediately appointed to the vacant position, receiving the honorable title of Melik-el-Mansoor (Victorious King), but he enjoyed it for only a short time, as he died just over two months after his rise to power. He was succeeded in rank and command of the army by his nephew Saladin, who effectively became the master of Egypt. Noor-ed-deen, believing it was time to establish the spiritual authority of the house of Abbas, instructed Saladin to replace all offices held by the Shi’ahs with orthodox individuals and to conduct prayers in the name of the Khalif of Baghdad. However, this wise leader, knowing that most Egyptians were firmly loyal to the belief that the Fatimites were the rightful successors of the Prophet, hesitated to comply. Eventually, the death of the Fatimite khalif occurred at a most opportune moment to spare him from difficulties. Adhad-ladin-Allah, the last descendant of Moez-ladin-Allah, the dynasty's founder, died suddenly—of illness, according to Oriental historians—by the hand of Saladin, according to rumors circulating among Christians. With all obstacles now removed, public prayers were held in Egypt's mosques in the name of the Abbasside khalif, bringing to a complete end the power of the western Ismaïlites after 200 years.
Noor-ed-deen, who saw that the power of his lieutenant was now too great to be controlled, adopted the prudent plan of soothing him by titles and marks of confidence. The khalif of Bagdad sent him a dress of honour and a letter of thanks for having reduced under his spiritual dominion a province which had been so long rebellious against his house. But the most important consequence of the timely death of the khalif to Saladin was the acquisition of the accumulated treasures of the Fatimites, which fell into his hands, and which he employed as the means of securing the fidelity of his officers and soldiers. As a specimen of oriental exaggeration, we shall give the list of these treasures as they are enumerated by[Pg 110] eastern writers. There were, we are assured, no less than 700 pearls, each of which was of a size that rendered it inestimable, an emerald a span long, and as thick as the finger, a library consisting of 2,600,000 books, and gold, both coined and in the mass; aloes, amber, and military arms and weapons past computation. A large portion of this enormous treasure was distributed by Saladin among his soldiers; the remainder was applied, during ten successive years, to defray the expenses of his wars and buildings. As Saladin's name was Yoossuf (Joseph), the same with that of the son of Jacob, the minister of king Pharaoh, it is not an improbable supposition that, in Egyptian tradition, the two Josephs have been confounded, and the works of the latter been ascribed to the former; for it is the character of popular tradition to leap over centuries, and even thousands of years, and to form out of several heroes one who is made to perform the actions of them all.
Noor-ed-deen, realizing that his lieutenant had gained too much power to be controlled, wisely decided to pacify him with titles and expressions of confidence. The Khalif of Baghdad sent him an honorary outfit and a letter of thanks for bringing a province that had long rebelled against his rule under his spiritual authority. However, the most significant impact of the khalif's timely death for Saladin was the acquisition of the vast treasures of the Fatimites, which came into his possession and he used to secure the loyalty of his officers and soldiers. As a typical example of Eastern exaggeration, we will list these treasures as detailed by[Pg 110] Eastern writers. There were reportedly no less than 700 pearls, each so large that it was priceless, an emerald a span long and as thick as a finger, a library containing 2,600,000 books, and both minted and raw gold; aloes, amber, and countless military arms and weapons. A large portion of this massive treasure was distributed by Saladin among his soldiers; the rest was used over ten consecutive years to cover the costs of his wars and construction projects. Since Saladin's name was Yoossuf (Joseph), the same as that of Jacob's son, the minister to King Pharaoh, it’s not far-fetched to think that in Egyptian tradition, the two Josephs may have been mixed up, with the feats of one attributed to the other; for it’s common in popular tradition to merge centuries, even millennia, and create a single figure that embodies the actions of multiple heroes.
As long as Noor-ed-deen lived, Saladin continued to acknowledge his superiority; and when, on his death, he left his dominions to his son Malek-es-Saleh, the coins of Egypt bore the name of the young prince. As Malek-es-Saleh was a minor, and entirely under the guidance of the eunuch Kameshtegin, great discontent prevailed among the emirs; and Seif-ed-deen (Sword of Religion), the cousin of the young prince, who was at the head of an army in Mesopotamia, prepared to wrest the dominion from the young Malek-es-Saleh. All eyes were turned to Saladin, as the only person capable of preserving the country. He left Egypt with only 700 horsemen. The governor and people of Damascus cheerfully opened the gates to him. Hems and Hama followed the example of Damascus. Saladin took the government under the modest title of[Pg 111] lieutenant of the young atabeg, whose rights he declared himself ready to maintain on all occasions. He advanced to Aleppo, where Malek-es-Saleh was residing; but the militia of that town, moved by the tears of the young prince, who was probably influenced by the eunuch Kameshtegin, who feared to lose his power, marched out and put to flight the small force with which Saladin had approached the town. Having collected a larger army, Saladin laid siege regularly to Aleppo, and Kameshtegin, despairing of force, resolved to have recourse to treachery. He sent accordingly to Sinan, the Sheikh of the Assassins, who resided at Massyat, representing to him how dangerous a foe to the Ismaïlites was the valiant Koord, who was so ardent in his zeal for the house of Abbas, and had put an end to the dynasty of the Fatimites, who had so long given lustre to the maintainers of the rights of Ismaïl by the possession of extensive temporal power and dignity. He reminded him that, if Saladin succeeded in his ambitious projects in Syria, he would, in all probability, turn his might against the Assassins, and destroy their power in that country. These arguments were enforced by gold, and the sheikh, readily yielding to them, despatched without delay three Fedavees, who fell on Saladin in the camp before Aleppo. The attempt, however, miscarried, and the murderers were seized and put to death. Saladin, incensed at this attempt on his life, and guessing well the quarter whence it came, now pressed on the siege with greater vigour.
As long as Noor-ed-deen was alive, Saladin recognized his superiority; and when Noor-ed-deen died and left his realm to his son Malek-es-Saleh, the coins of Egypt featured the name of the young prince. Since Malek-es-Saleh was a minor and completely under the control of the eunuch Kameshtegin, there was a lot of unrest among the emirs. Seif-ed-deen (Sword of Religion), the young prince's cousin, who was in charge of an army in Mesopotamia, prepared to take power from the young Malek-es-Saleh. Everyone looked to Saladin as the only person who could keep the country stable. He left Egypt with just 700 horsemen. The governor and the people of Damascus happily opened their gates to him. Hems and Hama followed Damascus’ lead. Saladin took charge under the humble title of [Pg 111] lieutenant of the young atabeg, pledging to uphold his rights at all times. He moved toward Aleppo, where Malek-es-Saleh was living; however, the militia of that city, moved by the tears of the young prince—who was likely influenced by the eunuch Kameshtegin, fearful of losing his influence—marched out and drove away the small force with which Saladin had approached. After gathering a larger army, Saladin laid siege to Aleppo in a more organized manner, and Kameshtegin, seeing that brute force wouldn’t work, decided to resort to treachery. He reached out to Sinan, the Sheikh of the Assassins, who lived in Massyat, explaining how dangerous the valiant Koord was to the Ismaïlites due to his strong support for the Abbasids, which had led to the downfall of the Fatimid dynasty that had long bolstered the Ismaïlites with significant power and prestige. He warned that if Saladin succeeded in his ambitious plans in Syria, he would likely turn his forces against the Assassins and bring an end to their dominance in the region. These arguments were backed by gold, and the sheikh, quickly persuaded, sent three Fedavees without delay to attack Saladin in his camp before Aleppo. However, the attempt failed, and the would-be assassins were caught and executed. Saladin, furious about this attempt on his life and correctly suspecting its origin, intensified the siege with greater determination.
Finding the benefit which might be derived from the daggers of the Fedavee, Kameshtegin resolved to employ them against his personal enemies. The vizir of the young prince, and two of the principal emirs, had laid a plot for his destruction. Coming to the knowledge of it, he determined to be beforehand with[Pg 112] them, and, watching the moment when Malek-es-Saleh was about to mount his horse to go to the chase, he approached him, requesting his signature to a blank paper, under pretence of its being necessary for some affair of urgent importance. The young prince signed his name without suspicion, and Kameshtegin instantly wrote on the paper a letter to the Sheikh of the Assassins, in which Malek-es-Saleh was made to request him to send men to put those three emirs out of the way. The Ismaïlite chief readily complied with the request, as he supposed it to be, of his young friend and neighbour, and several Fedavees were despatched to execute his wishes. Two of these fell on the vizir as he was going out of the eastern gate of a mosk near his own house. They were cut to pieces on the spot. Soon after three fell on the emir Mujaheed as he was on horseback. One of them caught hold of the end of his cloak, in order to make more sure of him, but the emir gave his horse the spurs, and broke away, leaving his cloak behind. The people seized the Assassins, two of whom were recognized as being acquaintances of the emir's head groom. One of them was crucified, and along with him the groom as an accomplice: on the breast of the latter was placed this inscription, "This is the reward of the concealer of the Impious." The others were dragged to the castle, and beaten on the soles of their feet to make them confess what had induced them to attempt the commission of such a crime. In the midst of his tortures one of them cried out, "Thou didst desire of our lord Sinan the murder of thy slaves, and now thou dost punish us for performing thy wishes.". Full of wrath Malek-es-Saleh wrote a letter to the sheikh Sinan filled with the bitterest reproaches. The sheikh made no other reply than that of sending him back the letter bearing his own subscription. Historians do not tell us what[Pg 113] the final result was; and it is also in a great measure uncertain at what time this event occurred.
Finding the advantage he could gain from the Fedavee daggers, Kameshtegin decided to use them against his personal enemies. The vizier of the young prince and two top emirs had plotted his downfall. Upon learning of this, he resolved to get ahead of them, and when Malek-es-Saleh was about to mount his horse to go hunting, he approached him, asking for his signature on a blank piece of paper, claiming it was needed for an urgent matter. The young prince signed without any suspicion, and Kameshtegin immediately wrote a letter on that paper to the Sheikh of the Assassins, instructing Malek-es-Saleh to ask him to send men to eliminate those three emirs. The Ismaïlite chief willingly accepted what he believed was a request from his young friend and neighbor, and several Fedavees were sent to carry out his wishes. Two of them attacked the vizier as he was leaving the eastern gate of a mosque near his home. They killed him on the spot. Soon after, three confronted Emir Mujaheed while he was on horseback. One of them grabbed the end of his cloak to secure him, but the emir spurred his horse and got away, leaving his cloak behind. The crowd captured the Assassins, two of whom were recognized as acquaintances of the emir's head groom. One was crucified, along with the groom as an accomplice; an inscription on the groom read, "This is the reward of the concealer of the Impious." The others were taken to the castle and beaten on the soles of their feet to make them confess what led them to commit such a crime. Amidst his tortures, one shouted, "You asked our lord Sinan to murder your slaves, and now you punish us for fulfilling your wishes." Furious, Malek-es-Saleh wrote a letter to Sheikh Sinan filled with the harshest accusations. The sheikh replied only by sending back the letter with his own signature. Historians do not disclose what the final outcome was, and it's also largely unclear when this event took place.
The Assassins did not give over their attempts upon Saladin, whose power became more formidable to them after he had deprived the family of Noor-ed-deen of their honours and dominions; and he was again attacked by them in his camp before the fortress of Ezag. One of them assailed him and wounded him in the head, but the sultan (he had now assumed that title) caught him by the arm and struck him down. A second rushed on—he was cut down by the guards; a third, a fourth, shared the same fate. Terrified at their obstinate perseverance, the sultan shut himself up in his tent during several days, and ordered all strangers and suspicious persons to quit the camp.
The Assassins didn’t stop their attempts on Saladin, whose power became even more intimidating to them after he took away the honors and territory of the Noor-ed-deen family. They attacked him again in his camp outside the fortress of Ezag. One of them struck him and injured him in the head, but the sultan (he had now taken that title) grabbed him by the arm and brought him down. A second one charged in—he was taken down by the guards; a third, and a fourth, met the same fate. Frightened by their relentless determination, the sultan locked himself in his tent for several days and ordered all strangers and anyone suspicious to leave the camp.
Next year (1176) the sultan, being at peace with his other enemies, resolved to take exemplary vengeance on those who had so unprovokedly attempted his life. Assembling an army, he entered the mountains, wasted with fire and sword the territory of the Ismaïlites, and came and laid siege to Massyat. The power of the Syrian Ismaïlites would have been now extinguished but for the intercession of the Prince of Hama, the sultan's uncle, who, at the entreaty of Sinan, prevailed on his nephew to grant a peace on condition of no attempt being made at any future time on his life. Sinan gladly assented to these terms, and he honourably kept his engagement, for the great Saladin reigned fifteen years after this time, carried on continual wars, conquered Jerusalem and the Holy Land, exposed himself to danger in the field and in the camp, but no Assassin was ever again known to approach him with hostile intentions.
Next year (1176), the sultan, being at peace with his other enemies, decided to take drastic revenge on those who had tried to kill him without cause. He gathered an army, entered the mountains, and devastated the territory of the Ismaïlites with fire and sword, then laid siege to Massyat. The power of the Syrian Ismaïlites would have been completely crushed if not for the intervention of the Prince of Hama, the sultan's uncle, who, at Sinan's request, convinced his nephew to grant peace on the condition that there would be no future attempts on his life. Sinan gladly accepted these terms, and he honorably upheld his promise, for the great Saladin ruled for fifteen more years, engaged in constant wars, conquered Jerusalem and the Holy Land, faced danger both in battle and in encampment, but no Assassin ever approached him again with hostile intentions.
Chapter 9.
Sinan the Dai-al-Kebir of Syria—Offers to become a Christian—His Ambassador murdered by the Templars—Cardinal de Vitry's Account of the Assassins—Murder of the Marquis of Montferrat—Defence of King Richard.
The person who had the chief direction of the affairs of the society in Syria in the time of Saladin was one of the most remarkable characters which appear in the history of the Assassins. His name was Rasheed-ed-deen (Orthodox in Religion) Sinan, the son of Suleiman of Basra. Like so many others of the impostors who have appeared from time to time in the east, he had the audacity to give himself out for an incarnation of the Divinity. No one ever saw him eat, drink, sleep, or even spit. His clothing was of coarse hair-cloth. From the rising to the setting of the sun he stood upon a lofty rock, preaching to the people, who received his words as those of a superior being. Unfortunately for his credit, his auditors at length discovered that he had a halt in his gait, caused by a wound which he received from a stone in the great earthquake of 1157. This did not accord with the popular idea of the perfection which should belong to the corporeal vehicle of Divinity. The credit of Sinan vanished at once, and those who had just been adoring the god now threatened to take the life of the impostor. Sinan lost not his self-possession; he calmly entreated them to be patient, descended from his rock, caused food to be brought, invited them to eat, and by the persuasive powers of his eloquence induced them to recognise[Pg 115] him as their sole chief, and all unanimously swore obedience and fidelity to him.
The person in charge of the society in Syria during Saladin's time was one of the most notable figures in the history of the Assassins. His name was Rasheed-ed-deen (Orthodox in Religion) Sinan, son of Suleiman from Basra. Like many other impostors who have appeared throughout history in the East, he had the boldness to claim he was a manifestation of the Divine. No one ever saw him eat, drink, sleep, or even spit. He wore rough hair-cloth. From sunrise to sunset, he stood on a high rock, preaching to the people, who accepted his words as those of a higher being. Unfortunately for his reputation, his listeners eventually noticed that he limped due to an injury he sustained from a stone during the major earthquake of 1157. This did not match the common belief about the perfection associated with a Divine being's physical form. Sinan's credibility disappeared immediately, and those who had just been worshiping him now threatened to kill the impostor. Sinan remained composed; he calmly asked them to be patient, got down from his rock, had food brought in, invited them to eat, and through the power of his persuasive speech, convinced them to recognize[Pg 115] him as their sole leader, leading everyone to swear their loyalty and fidelity to him.
The neglect of chronology by the oriental historians, or their European translators and followers, is frequently such that we are left in great uncertainty as to the exact time of particular events, and are thus unable to trace them to their real causes and occasions. The mention of the earthquake of 1157 would however seem to make it probable that it was about that time that Sinan put forward his claims to divinity; and as, at that very period, Hassan, the son of Keäh Mohammed, was giving himself out for the promised imam, we may suppose that it was his example which stimulated Sinan to his bold attempt at obtaining independent dominion over the Syrian branch of the Ismaïlites.
The disregard for chronology by Eastern historians, or their European translators and followers, often leaves us quite unsure about the exact timing of certain events, making it difficult to link them to their true causes and motivations. However, the reference to the earthquake of 1157 suggests that it was around that time that Sinan began to claim divinity. Additionally, since Hassan, the son of Keäh Mohammed, was also claiming to be the promised imam at that time, we can assume that his example inspired Sinan in his bold attempt to gain independent control over the Syrian branch of the Ismaïlites.
Sinan was, like Hassan, a man of considerable learning. His works are held in high estimation by the remains of the sect of the Ismaïlites still lingering among the mountains of Syria. These works, we are told, consist of a chaotic mixture of mutilated passages of the Gospel and the Koran, of contradictory articles of belief, of hymns, prayers, sermons, and regulations, which are unintelligible even to those who receive and venerate them.
Sinan was, like Hassan, a well-educated man. His works are greatly valued by the Ismaïlites who still exist in the mountains of Syria. These works, as we've heard, are a jumbled mix of fragmented passages from the Gospel and the Koran, conflicting beliefs, hymns, prayers, sermons, and rules that are unclear even to those who accept and honor them.
The sacred books of the Christians formed, as we see, a part of the studies of the Sheikh of Massyat, and, as it would appear, he thought he might derive some advantage from his acquaintance with them. The religio-military society of the Knights of the Temple, whose history we shall soon have to record, had possessions in the neighbourhood of those of the Assassins, and their superior power had enabled them, at what time is uncertain, to render the latter tributary. The tribute was the annual sum of 2,000 ducats, and Sinan, to whom probably all religions were alike, and who had unbounded power over the[Pg 116] minds of his people, conceived the idea of releasing himself from it by professing the same religion with his neighbours. He accordingly sent, in the year 1172, one of his most prudent and eloquent ministers on a secret embassy to Amalric King of Jerusalem, offering, in the name of himself and his people, to embrace the Christian religion, and receive the rite of baptism, provided the king would engage to make the Templars renounce the tribute of 2,000 ducats, and agree to live with them henceforward as good neighbours and friends and brethren. Overjoyed at the prospect of making converts of such importance, the king readily assented to the desires of the Ismaïlite chief, and he at the same time assured the Templars that their house should not be a loser, as he would pay them 2,000 ducats annually out of his treasury. The brethren of the Temple made no objection to the arrangement: and after the Ismaïlite ambassador had been detained and treated honourably for some days by the king, he set out on his return, accompanied by a guide and escort sent by the king to conduct him as far as the borders of the Ismaïlite territory. They passed in safety through the country of Tripolis, and were now in the vicinity of the first castles of the Ismaïlites, when suddenly some Templars rushed forth from an ambush, and murdered the ambassador. The Templars were commanded by a knight named Walter du Mesnil, a one-eyed, daring, wicked man, but who, on this occasion, it would appear, acted by the orders of his superiors, who probably did not consider the royal promise good security for the 2,000 ducats; for, when Amalric, filled with indignation at the base and perfidious action, assembled his barons at Sidon to deliberate on what should be done, and by their advice sent two of their number to Ado de St. Amand, the Master of the Temple, to demand satisfaction for the iniquitous[Pg 117] deed, the master contented himself by saying that he had imposed a penance on brother Du Mesnil, and had moreover directed him to proceed to Rome without delay, to know what farther the apostolic father would order him to do, and that, on this account he must, in the name of the pope, prohibit any violence against the aforesaid brother. The king, however, was not regardless of justice and of his own dignity. Shortly afterwards, when the master and several of the Templars were at Sidon, he assembled his council again, and, with their consent, sent and dragged Du Mesnil from the house of the Templars, and threw him into prison, where he would probably have expiated his crime but for the speedy death of the king. All hopes of the conversion of the Ismaïlites were now at an end.
The sacred texts of the Christians were, as we can see, part of the studies of the Sheikh of Massyat, and it seems he believed he might gain some benefit from being familiar with them. The religious-military order of the Knights of the Temple, whose history we will soon recount, had land near that of the Assassins, and their greater power had allowed them, at an uncertain time, to make the Assassins pay tribute. The tribute was an annual amount of 2,000 ducats, and Sinan, who likely viewed all religions the same and held immense influence over the minds of his people, came up with the idea of freeing himself from it by adopting the same religion as his neighbors. So, in 1172, he sent one of his wisest and most eloquent ministers on a secret mission to King Amalric of Jerusalem, offering, on behalf of himself and his people, to convert to Christianity and receive baptism, provided the king would ensure the Templars waived the 2,000 ducat tribute and agree to live alongside them as good neighbors, friends, and brothers. Delighted at the chance to convert such significant figures, the king eagerly accepted the wishes of the Ismaïlite leader and assured the Templars that their house would not suffer a loss, as he would pay them 2,000 ducats each year from his treasury. The Templars had no objections to this arrangement: after the Ismaïlite ambassador had been honored and well-treated by the king for several days, he set off for home, accompanied by a guide and escort sent by the king to take him to the borders of Ismaïlite territory. They traveled safely through the region of Tripolis, and were nearing the first castles of the Ismaïlites when, unexpectedly, some Templars sprang from concealment and killed the ambassador. The Templars were led by a knight named Walter du Mesnil, a daring, ruthless man with one eye, who seemed to be acting on the orders of his superiors, who likely thought the royal promise was not reliable enough for the 2,000 ducats; for when Amalric, outraged by the treacherous act, gathered his barons at Sidon to discuss what action to take, they advised sending two of their members to Ado de St. Amand, the Master of the Temple, to demand accountability for the wicked deed. The master simply responded that he had imposed a penance on Brother Du Mesnil and had instructed him to go to Rome immediately to find out what further actions the pope would direct him to take, and for this reason, he must, in the pope's name, prevent any violence against this brother. However, the king was not indifferent to justice or his own dignity. Soon after, when the master and several Templars were in Sidon, he called his council again and, with their approval, sent men to drag Du Mesnil from the Templars' house and throw him into prison, where he might have faced punishment for his crime if not for the king's sudden death. All hopes of converting the Ismaïlites had now vanished.
It is on this occasion that the Archbishop of Tyre gives an account of what he had been able to learn respecting the Assassins. As what we have previously related of them has been exclusively drawn from eastern sources, it will not be useless to insert in this place the accounts of them given by the Cardinal de Vitry, who has followed and enlarged the sketch of the archbishop[50].
It is on this occasion that the Archbishop of Tyre shares what he has learned about the Assassins. Since our previous information about them has come solely from Eastern sources, it makes sense to include the descriptions provided by Cardinal de Vitry, who has followed and expanded on the archbishop's account[50].
"In the province of Phœnicia, near the borders of the Antaradensian town which is now called Tortosa, dwells a certain people, shut in on all sides by rocks and mountains, who have ten castles, very strong and impregnable, by reason of the narrow ways and inaccessible rocks, with their suburbs and the valleys, which are most fruitful in all species of fruits and corn, and most delightful for their amenity. The number of these men, who are called Assassins, is said to exceed 40,000[51]. They set a captain over[Pg 118] themselves, not by hereditary succession, but by the prerogative of merit, whom they call the Old Man (Veterem seu Senem), not so much on account of his advanced age as for his pre-eminence in prudence and dignity. The first and principal abbot of this unhappy religion of theirs, and the place where they had their origin and whence they came to Syria, is in the very remote parts of the east, near the city of Bagdad and the parts of the province of Persia. These people, who do not divide the hoof, nor make a difference between what is sacred and what is profane, believe that all obedience indifferently shown by them towards their superior is meritorious for eternal life. Hence they are bound to their master, whom they call the Old Man, with such a bond of subjection and obedience that there is nothing so difficult or so dangerous that they would fear to undertake, or which they would not perform with a cheerful mind and ardent will, at the command of their lord. The Old Man, their lord, causes boys of this people to be brought up in secret and delightful places, and having had them diligently trained and instructed in the different kinds of languages, sends them to various provinces with daggers, and orders them to slay the great men of the Christians, as well as of the Saracens, either because he is at enmity with them for some cause or other, or at the request of his friends, or even for the lucre of a large sum of money which has been given him, promising them, for the execution of this command, that they shall have far greater delights, and without end, in paradise, after death, than even those amidst which they had been reared. If they chance to die in this act of obedience they are regarded as martyrs by their companions, and being placed by that people among their saints, are held in the greatest reverence. Their parents are enriched with many gifts by the master, who is called the Old Man, and[Pg 119] if they were slaves they are let go free ever after. Whence these wretched and misguided youths, who are sent from the convent (conventu) of the aforesaid brethren to different parts of the world, undertake their deadly legation with such joy and delight, and perform it with such diligence and solicitude, transforming themselves in various ways, and assuming the manners and dress of other nations, sometimes concealing themselves under the appearance of merchants, at other times under that of priests and monks, and in an infinity of other modes, that there is hardly any person in the whole world so cautious as to be able to guard against their machinations. They disdain to plot against an inferior person. The great men to whom they are hostile either redeem themselves by a large sum of money, or, going armed and attended by a body of guards, pass their life in suspicion and in dread of death. They kept the law of Mahomet and his institutions diligently and straitly beyond all other Saracens till the times of a certain master of theirs, who, being endowed with natural genius, and exercised in the study of different writings, began with all diligence to read and examine the law of the Christians and the Gospels of Christ, admiring the virtue of the miracles, and the sanctity of the doctrine. From a comparison with these he began to abominate the frivolous and irrational doctrine of Mahomet, and at length, when he knew the truth, he studied to recall his subjects by degrees from the rites of the cursed law. Wherefore he exhorted and commanded them that they should drink wine in moderation and eat the flesh of swine. At length, after many discourses and serious admonitions of their teacher, they all with one consent agreed to renounce the perfidy of Mahomet, and, by receiving the grace of baptism, to become Christians."
"In the province of Phoenicia, near the borders of the town now known as Tortosa, there lives a group of people surrounded by rocks and mountains. They have ten strong and impregnable castles because of the narrow paths and inaccessible cliffs. Their suburbs and valleys are very fertile, producing all kinds of fruits and grains, and are quite pleasant overall. It's said their number, referred to as Assassins, exceeds 40,000[51]. They choose a leader not by inheritance but based on merit, known as the Old Man (Veterem seu Senem), not just because of his age but for his wisdom and dignity. The first and main abbot of their troubled religion, from which they originated and came to Syria, is located in the distant eastern parts, close to Baghdad and the Persian province. These people do not have split hooves, nor do they distinguish between sacred and profane. They believe that any obedience towards their superior earns them merit for eternal life. Because of this, they are bound to their master, whom they call the Old Man, with such a strong sense of duty that there is nothing too difficult or dangerous that they would hesitate to undertake, always ready to act with enthusiasm at their lord's command. The Old Man raises boys from this group in secret, pleasant locations, diligently training them in various languages and then sending them to different regions with daggers, instructing them to assassinate important figures among both Christians and Saracens, whether due to personal enmity, requests from allies, or for monetary gain. He promises them that their rewards in paradise will be far greater and everlasting than the pleasures they enjoyed while growing up. If they die while obeying his commands, they are regarded as martyrs by their peers and are venerated among their saints. Their parents receive numerous gifts from the Old Man, and if they were slaves, they gain their freedom. Hence, these misguided young men sent from the convent of their brethren take on their deadly missions with joy and enthusiasm, executing them with great diligence, adapting themselves in various ways, assuming the looks and customs of other cultures, sometimes disguising themselves as merchants, at other times as priests or monks. There are so many methods they employ that practically no one in the world is cautious enough to resist their schemes. They refuse to target someone of lower standing. The high-ranking individuals they target either pay a hefty sum to avoid danger or live their lives armed and surrounded by guards, always fearful of death. They strictly adhere to the teachings of Mahomet beyond all other Saracens until a certain master among them—gifted by nature and educated in many texts—began diligently reading and examining Christian law and the Gospels of Christ, impressed by the miracle's virtue and the purity of the doctrine. By comparing this to Mahomet's shallow and irrational teachings, he grew to despise them and, once he discovered the truth, gradually encouraged his people to abandon the cursed rites of that law. He urged and commanded them to drink wine in moderation and eat pork. After many discussions and serious advice from their teacher, they all unanimously agreed to reject Mahomet's falsehood and, through baptism, became Christians."
We may, from this account, perceive that the[Pg 120] Crusaders had a tolerably clear idea of the nature and constitution of the society of the Assassins. The Cardinal de Vitry plainly describes them as forming a religion, that is, an order under an abbot; and perhaps the resemblance which Hammer traces between them and the Templars, which we shall notice when we come to speak of this last society, is not quite so fanciful as it might at first sight appear. It is curious, too, to observe that the Christians also believed that the Sheikh-al-Jebal had some mode of inspiring the Fedavee with a contempt of life and an aspiration after the joys of paradise.
From this account, we can see that the[Pg 120] Crusaders had a fairly clear understanding of the nature and structure of the Assassins' society. Cardinal de Vitry clearly describes them as forming a religion, which is to say, an order led by an abbot; and the similarity that Hammer points out between them and the Templars, which we will discuss when we talk about the latter group, may not be as far-fetched as it seems at first. It's also interesting to note that the Christians believed the Sheikh-al-Jebal had some way of instilling in the Fedavee a disregard for life and a longing for the pleasures of paradise.
The dagger had not been unsheathed against the Christian princes since, forty-two years before (1149), Raymond, the young Count of Tripolis, was murdered as he knelt at his devotions, and the altar was sprinkled with his blood. A more illustrious victim was now to bleed; and, as the question of who was the real author of his death forms a curious historical problem, we shall here discuss it at some length.
The dagger hadn’t been drawn against the Christian rulers since, forty-two years earlier (1149), Raymond, the young Count of Tripolis, was killed while he was praying, and his blood stained the altar. A more notable victim was about to fall; and since the question of who was truly responsible for his death presents an interesting historical puzzle, we will discuss it in detail here.
Conrad Marquis of Montferrat, a name celebrated in the history of the third crusade, had just been named King of Jerusalem by Richard Lion-heart King of England. In the latter end of the month of April 1192 the marquis, being at Tyre, went to dine with the Bishop of Beauvais. One writer says that, the marchioness having stayed too long in the bath, and the marquis being averse to dining alone, he mounted his horse and rode to dine with the Bishop; but, finding that that prelate had already finished his meal, he was returning home to his palace. As he passed through a narrow street, and was come near the toll-house, two Assassins, having watched their opportunity, approached him. The one presented a petition, and, while he was engaged reading it, both struck him with their daggers, crying,[Pg 121] "Thou shalt be neither marquis nor king." One of them was cut down instantly, the other sought refuge in a neighbouring church, and, according to an Arabian historian, when the wounded marquis was brought into the same church, he rushed on him anew, and completed his crime. Others relate that the marquis was carried home to his palace, where he lived long enough to receive the holy sacrament and to give his last instructions to his wife. The two accounts, we may perceive, are by no means repugnant.
Conrad, Marquis of Montferrat, a well-known figure in the history of the Third Crusade, had just been named King of Jerusalem by Richard the Lionheart, King of England. At the end of April 1192, the marquis was in Tyre and decided to have dinner with the Bishop of Beauvais. One account mentions that the marchioness had taken too long in the bath, and since the marquis didn’t want to eat alone, he got on his horse and rode to dine with the Bishop. However, upon arriving, he found out that the bishop had already finished his meal, so he was heading back to his palace. As he passed through a narrow street and approached the tollhouse, two Assassins, having waited for the right moment, came up to him. One of them handed him a petition, and while he was reading it, both attacked him with their daggers, shouting, [Pg 121] "You will be neither marquis nor king." One attacker was killed immediately, while the other escaped into a nearby church. According to an Arabian historian, when the wounded marquis was brought into that church, the attacker charged at him again and completed his crime. Other accounts say the marquis was taken back to his palace, where he lived long enough to receive the holy sacrament and share his final instructions with his wife. These two accounts, we can see, are not contradictory.
These Assassins, who were both youths, had been for some time—six months it is said—in Tyre, watching for an opportunity to perform the commission which had been given them. They had feigned a conversion from Islam, or, as some say, had assumed the habit of monks, in order to win the confidence of the marquis, and thus procure more ready access to him. One of them, we are told, had even entered his service, and the other that of Balian of Ibelin.
These Assassins, both young men, had been in Tyre for a while—it's said to be six months—waiting for a chance to carry out their assignment. They pretended to convert from Islam, or, as some say, took on the appearance of monks to gain the marquis's trust and get easier access to him. One of them is said to have even joined his service, while the other worked for Balian of Ibelin.
The question now comes, at whose instigation was the murder committed? Here we find several both oriental and occidental witnesses disposed to lay the guilt on Richard, King of England, those writers who were his own subjects indignantly repelling the accusation, and some indifferent witnesses testifying in his favour. Previous to examining these witnesses we must state that king Richard was at enmity with Philip Augustus, King of France; that though he had given the crown of Jerusalem to the Marquis of Montferrat, there was little kind feeling between them, and they had been enemies; and, finally, that the history of the English monarch exhibits no traits of such a generous chivalrous disposition as should put him beyond suspicion of being concerned in an assassination.
The question now arises: who instigated the murder? Here, we find several witnesses from both the East and the West eager to pin the blame on Richard, King of England. His own subjects vehemently reject the accusation, while some neutral witnesses testify in his favor. Before we examine these witnesses, we should note that King Richard was at odds with Philip Augustus, King of France. Even though he had given the crown of Jerusalem to the Marquis of Montferrat, their relationship was strained, and they had been enemies. Lastly, the history of the English monarch does not show any signs of such a generous, chivalrous nature that would clear him of suspicion regarding his involvement in an assassination.
Of the writers who charge king Richard with the[Pg 122] murder it is to be observed that the only ones that are contemporary are the Arabian historians. The following passage is quoted from the History of Jerusalem and Hebron, by Hammer, who regards it as quite decisive of the guilt of the English king:—"The marquis went, on the 13th of the month Rebi-al-Ewal, to visit the Bishop of Tyre. As he was going out he was attacked by two Assassins, who slew him with their daggers. When taken and stretched on the rack, they confessed that they had been employed by the King of England. They died under the torture." Boha-ed-deen, the friend and biographer of Saladin, writes to the same effect. It is therefore evident that, at the time, it was reported that the marquis had been murdered by persons employed by the King of England; and Vinisauf and the other English writers assure us that the French party and the friends of the murdered marquis endeavoured to throw the odium of the deed on king Richard. As that mode of getting rid of an enemy was far too familiar in the east, it was natural enough that the Arabian writers should adopt the report without much inquiry. This consideration alone ought very much to invalidate their testimony. Some German chroniclers also, following the reports which were industriously spread to the disadvantage of the English king at the time he was a prisoner in Austria, did not hesitate to accuse him of the murder of the marquis; but, as has been justly observed, these, as well as the preceding, were either partial or at a distance[52].
Of the writers who accuse King Richard of murder, it's important to note that the only contemporaries are the Arabian historians. The following excerpt is taken from the History of Jerusalem and Hebron by Hammer, who sees it as clear evidence of the English king's guilt:—"On the 13th of the month Rebi-al-Ewal, the marquis went to visit the Bishop of Tyre. As he was leaving, he was attacked by two Assassins, who killed him with their daggers. When captured and tortured, they confessed they were hired by the King of England. They died under torture." Boha-ed-deen, Saladin's friend and biographer, writes similarly. It is clear that at the time, it was reported that the marquis was murdered by people hired by the King of England; and Vinisauf and other English writers assure us that the French faction and the friends of the murdered marquis tried to blame King Richard for the crime. Since this method of eliminating an enemy was all too common in the east, it makes sense that the Arabian writers would accept the rumor without much investigation. This alone should significantly undermine their credibility. Some German chroniclers, following the rumors that were deliberately spread to tarnish the reputation of the English king while he was imprisoned in Austria, also accused him of the marquis's murder; but, as has been rightly pointed out, these writers, like the earlier ones, were either biased or writing from a distance.
In opposition to these assertions, we have the unanimous testimony of all the English writers, such as Vinisauf (the companion and historian of king Richard's crusade), Hoveden, Brompton, William of[Pg 123] Newbridge. The Syrian bishop, Aboo-'l-Faraj, mentions the report of the Assassin who was put to the rack having laid the guilt on king Richard, but adds that the truth came afterwards to light. Hugo Plagon, a judicious and impartial writer, so far from imputing the death of the marquis to king Richard, assigns the cause which moved the Assassin prince to order the death of the marquis, namely, the same which we shall presently see stated in the letter ascribed to the Old Man of the Mountain. Rigord, who wrote the history of Philip Augustus, does not by any means impute the murder of the marquis to king Richard, though he says that while Philip was at Pontoise letters were brought to him from beyond sea, warning him to be on his guard, as Assassins (Arsacidæ) had been sent, at the suggestion and command of the King of England, to kill him, "for at that time they had slain the king's kinsman, the marquis." Philip, in real, but more probably feigned alarm, immediately surrounded his person with a guard of serjeants-at-mace. The Arabic historian, Ebn-el-Athir, the friend of Saladin, says that the sultan had agreed with the Old Man of the Mountain, for a sum of 10,000 pieces of gold, to deliver him of both king Richard and the marquis, but that Sinan, not thinking it to be for his interest to relieve the sultan of the English king, had taken the money and only put the marquis out of the way. This narrative is wholly improbable, for treachery was surely no part of the character of Saladin; but it serves to prove the impartiality which is so justly ascribed to the Arabic writers in general. The testimony of Abulfeda is as follows: "And in it (the year of the Hejra 588, or A.D. 1192,) was slain the Marquis, Lord of Soor (or Tyre); may God, whose name be exalted, curse him! A Batinee, or Assassin (in one copy[Pg 124] Batinees), who had entered Soor in the disguise of a monk, slew him[53]."
In contrast to these claims, we have the unanimous accounts of all the English writers, including Vinisauf (the companion and historian of King Richard's crusade), Hoveden, Brompton, and William of[Pg 123] Newbridge. The Syrian bishop, Aboo-'l-Faraj, mentions that an Assassin who was tortured blamed King Richard for the crime but adds that the truth came to light later. Hugo Plagon, a fair and unbiased writer, does not attribute the marquis's death to King Richard; instead, he indicates the reasons that led the Assassin prince to order the marquis's death, which is the same reason we will see mentioned in the letter attributed to the Old Man of the Mountain. Rigord, who chronicled the history of Philip Augustus, also doesn’t hold King Richard responsible for the murder of the marquis, although he states that while Philip was in Pontoise, he received letters from overseas warning him to be cautious because Assassins (Arsacidæ) had been sent, at the suggestion and command of the King of England, to kill him, "for at that time they had slain the king’s relative, the marquis." Philip, genuinely, but more likely feigning alarm, quickly surrounded himself with a guard of serjeants-at-mace. The Arabic historian, Ebn-el-Athir, a friend of Saladin, claims that the sultan had reached an agreement with the Old Man of the Mountain for a payment of 10,000 pieces of gold to eliminate both King Richard and the marquis, but that Sinan, believing it was not in his best interest to help the sultan get rid of the English king, accepted the money and only dealt with the marquis. This story is entirely improbable, as treachery was certainly not a part of Saladin's character; however, it highlights the impartiality rightly attributed to Arabic writers in general. The testimony of Abulfeda states: "And in that year (the year of the Hejra 588, or A.D. 1192,) the Marquis, Lord of Soor (or Tyre) was killed; may God, whose name be exalted, curse him! An Assassin (in one copy[Pg 124] Batinees), disguised as a monk, entered Soor and killed him[53]."
We thus see that the evidence in favour of the King of England greatly preponderates, not a single writer who was on the spot laying the murder to his charge; on the contrary, those who had the best means of being informed treated the imputation with contempt, as a base calumny devised by the French party. But there is a still more illustrious witness in his behalf, if the testimony ascribed to him be genuine—the Old Man of the Mountain himself. Brompton gives two letters purporting to have been written by this personage, the one to the Duke of Austria, the other to the princes and people of Europe in general. The latter is also given by William of Newbridge, with some variation. Both have been admitted by Rymer into his Fœdera. Gibbon, who seems to have known only the last, pronounces it to be an "absurd and palpable forgery." Hammer, whose arguments we shall presently consider, undertakes to demonstrate that these epistles are forgeries. Raumer, more prudently, only says that this last is not genuine in its present form.
We can see that the evidence supporting the King of England is overwhelmingly positive, with no writer who was present blaming him for the murder. In fact, those who were most well-informed dismissed the accusation as a vile lie created by the French supporters. However, there’s an even more notable witness in his favor, assuming the supposed testimony is real—the Old Man of the Mountain himself. Brompton provides two letters that are said to have been written by him, one addressed to the Duke of Austria and the other to the princes and people of Europe. The latter is also mentioned by William of Newbridge, though with some differences. Both letters have been included by Rymer in his Fœdera. Gibbon, who apparently only knew the latter, calls it an "absurd and blatant forgery." Hammer, whose arguments we’ll examine shortly, claims to prove that these letters are forgeries. Raumer, more cautiously, only states that the latter is not genuine in its current form.
The following are translations of these documents:—
The following are translations of these documents:—
"The Old Man of the Mountain to Limpold, Duke of Austria, greeting. Since several kings and princes beyond sea accuse Richard, King of England, and lord, of the death of the marquis, I swear by the God who reigneth for ever, and by the law which we hold, that he had no guilt in his death; for the cause of the death of the marquis was as follows.
"The Old Man of the Mountain to Limpold, Duke of Austria, greetings. Since several kings and princes across the sea are blaming Richard, King of England, for the marquis's death, I swear by the God who reigns forever and by the law we uphold that he had no part in his death; the reason for the marquis's death is as follows."
"One of our brethren was coming in a ship from Satelia (Salteleya) to our parts, and a tempest chancing to drive him to Tyre the marquis had him taken and slain, and seized a large sum of money[Pg 125] which he had with him. But we sent our messengers to the marquis, requiring him to restore to us the money of our brother, and to satisfy us respecting the death of our brother, which he laid upon Reginald, the Lord of Sidon, and we exerted ourselves through our friends till we knew of a truth that it was he himself who had had him put to death, and had seized his money.
"One of our friends was coming in a ship from Satelia (Salteleya) to our area, and when a storm forced him to Tyre, the marquis had him captured and killed, taking a large amount of money[Pg 125] he had with him. We sent messengers to the marquis, demanding that he return our brother's money and explain the circumstances of his death, which he blamed on Reginald, the Lord of Sidon. We worked through our contacts until we discovered the truth: it was the marquis himself who had ordered the killing and taken the money."
"And again we sent to him another of our messengers, named Eurisus, whom he was minded to fling into the sea; but our friends made him depart with speed out of Tyre, and he came to us quickly and told us these things. From that very hour we were desirous to slay the marquis; then also we sent two brethren to Tyre, who slew him openly, and as it were before all the people of Tyre.
"And again we sent another one of our messengers, named Eurisus, whom he intended to throw into the sea; but our friends made him leave Tyre quickly, and he came to us fast and shared this news. From that moment, we wanted to kill the marquis; so we also sent two brothers to Tyre, who killed him in public, as if it were right in front of everyone in Tyre."
"This, then, was the cause of the death of the marquis; and we say to you in truth that the lord Richard, King of England, had no guilt in this death of the marquis, and these who on account of this have done evil to the lord King of England have done it unjustly and without cause.
"This, then, was the reason for the marquis's death; and we tell you honestly that Lord Richard, King of England, was not at all responsible for this marquis's death, and those who have wronged the King of England because of this have acted unfairly and without justification."
"Know for certain that we kill no man in this world for any hire or money, unless he has first done us evil.
"Know for sure that we don’t kill anyone in this world for pay or money, unless they have first wronged us."
"And know that we have executed these letters in our house at our castle of Messiat, in the middle of September. In the year from Alexander M. D. & V."
"And know that we have carried out these letters in our home at our castle of Messiat, in the middle of September. In the year from Alexander M. D. & V."
"The Old Man of the Mountain to the princes of Europe and all the Christian people, greeting.
"The Old Man of the Mountain to the princes of Europe and all the Christian people, greetings."
"We would not that the innocence of any one should suffer by reason of what we have done, since we never do evil to any innocent and guiltless person; but those who have transgressed against us we do not, with God to aid, long suffer to rejoice in the injuries done to our simplicity.[Pg 126]
"We would never want anyone innocent to be harmed because of our actions, since we never harm any innocent or blameless person; but those who have wronged us, we will not, with God's help, allow to take joy in the damage they have caused to our honesty.[Pg 126]
"We therefore signify to the whole of you, testifying by him through whom we hope to be saved, that that Marquis of Montferrat was slain by no machination of the King of England, but he justly perished, by our will and command, by our satellites, for that act in which he transgressed against us, and which, when admonished, he had neglected to amend. For it is our custom first to admonish those who have acted injuriously in anything to us or our friends to give us satisfaction, which if they despise, we take care to take vengeance with severity by our ministers, who obey us with such devotion that they do not doubt but that they shall be gloriously rewarded by God if they die in executing our command.
"We want to make it clear to all of you, through Him in whom we trust for salvation, that the Marquis of Montferrat was not killed by any schemes of the King of England. He met his end justly, by our will and order, through our supporters, because of the act that he committed against us, which he failed to correct even after being warned. It’s our practice to first warn those who have harmed us or our allies to make amends, and if they ignore that, we ensure they face severe consequences through our loyal ministers, who are devoted to us and believe they will be rewarded by God for carrying out our orders."
"We have also heard that it is bruited about of that king that he has induced us, as being less upright and consistent (minus integros et constantes), to send some of our people to plot against the King of France, which, beyond doubt, is a false fiction, and of the vainest suspicion, when neither he, God is witness, has hitherto attempted anything against us, nor would we, in respect to our honour, permit any undeserved evil to be planned against any man. Farewell."
"We've also heard rumors that this king has convinced us, as being less honest and reliable, to send some people to conspire against the King of France. This is, without a doubt, a complete fabrication and a baseless suspicion, as neither he, God is my witness, has done anything against us, nor would we allow any unwarranted harm to be plotted against anyone. Goodbye."
We will not undertake to maintain the genuineness of these two epistles, but we may be permitted to point out the futility of some of the objections made to them. Hammer pronounces the first of them to be an undoubted forgery because it commences with swearing by the law, and ends by being dated from the era of the Seleucides. Both, he says, were equally strange to the Ismaïlites, who precisely at this time had begun to trample the law under foot, and had abandoned the Hejra, the only era known in Mohammedan countries, for a new one commencing with the reign of Hassan II. He[Pg 127] further sees, in the circumstance of a letter from the Old Man of the Mountain (Sheikh-al-Jebal) being dated from Massyat, a proof of the ignorance of the Crusaders respecting the true head and seat of the Ismaïlite power. These objections are regarded by Wilken as conclusive. They will, however, lose much of their force if we bear in mind that the letters are manifestly translations, and that the chief of Massyat at that time was Sinan, who some years before had offered to become a Christian, and who does not seem at all to have adopted the innovations of Hassan the Illuminator. Sinan might easily have been induced by the friends of the King of England, one of the most steady of whom was Henry of Champagne[54], who succeeded Conrad of Montferrat in the kingdom, to write those letters in his justification, and it is very probable that the translations were made in Syria, where the Arabic language was of course better understood than in Europe, and sent either alone or with the originals. The translator might have rendered the title which Sinan gave himself by Senex de Monte, which would be better understood in the west, and he may also have given the corresponding year of the era of the Seleucides (the one in use among the Syrian Christians) for the year of the Hejra used by the Ismaïlite chief, or indeed Sinan may have employed that era himself. In this case there would remain little to object to the genuineness of the letter to the Duke of Austria. Hammer regards the expression our simplicity (simplicitas nostra) as being conclusive against the genuineness of the second letter. We must confess that we can see no force in the objection. Sinan might wish to represent himself as a very plain, simple, innocent sort of person. It might further be doubted[Pg 128] if a European forger would venture to represent the prince of the Assassins—the formidable Old Man of the Mountain—in such a respectable light as he appears in these two epistles[55].
We won’t claim that these two letters are genuine, but we can point out how pointless some of the objections to them are. Hammer insists that the first one is definitely a forgery because it starts by swearing by the law and ends with a date from the Seleucid era. He argues both elements were completely foreign to the Ismaïlites, who at that time were disregarding the law and had abandoned the Hejra, which was the only dating system used in Islamic countries, in favor of a new era starting with the reign of Hassan II. He[Pg 127] also interprets the fact that a letter from the Old Man of the Mountain (Sheikh-al-Jebal) is dated from Massyat as evidence that the Crusaders were ignorant about the true leadership and center of Ismaïlite power. Wilken considers these objections definitive. However, they lose much of their strength if we remember that the letters are clearly translations and that the chief of Massyat at that time was Sinan, who had previously offered to convert to Christianity and doesn’t seem to have embraced the innovations of Hassan the Illuminator. Sinan may have easily been persuaded by supporters of the King of England, one of the most consistent being Henry of Champagne[54], who succeeded Conrad of Montferrat in the kingdom, to write those letters in his defense, and it’s very likely that the translations were made in Syria, where people understood Arabic much better than in Europe, and sent either by themselves or with the originals. The translator could have translated the title that Sinan used for himself as Senex de Monte, which would be better recognized in the West, and might have provided the corresponding year from the Seleucid era (the one used by Syrian Christians) instead of the Hejra year that the Ismaïlite leader used, or it’s possible Sinan might have used that era himself. In that case, there would be little left to dispute the authenticity of the letter to the Duke of Austria. Hammer considers the phrase our simplicity (simplicitas nostra) to be a strong argument against the authenticity of the second letter. We must admit we see no merit in that objection. Sinan might have wanted to present himself as a very straightforward, simple, and innocent person. Furthermore, one could question whether a European forger would dare to portray the prince of the Assassins—the fearsome Old Man of the Mountain—in such a respectable way as he appears in these two letters[55].
But there is another account of the death of the Marquis of Montferrat, which is probably much better known to the generality of readers than any of the preceding ones. The far-famed author of "Waverley" has, in his romantic tale of the "Talisman," made Conrad to be wounded and vanquished in the lists by the son of the King of Scotland, the champion of king Richard, and afterwards slain by the dagger, not of the Assassins, but of his confederate in villany the Master of the Temple, to prevent his making confession of their common guilt!
But there’s another story about the death of the Marquis of Montferrat, which is probably much better known to most readers than any of the previous ones. The well-known author of "Waverley" has, in his romantic tale "The Talisman," depicted Conrad as being wounded and defeated in the tournament by the son of the King of Scotland, the champion of King Richard, and later killed by the dagger—not of the Assassins, but by his accomplice in wrongdoing, the Master of the Temple, to stop him from confessing their shared guilt!
Yielding to none in rational admiration of the genius of Sir W. Scott, we cannot avoid expressing a wish that he had ceased to write when he had exhausted that rich field of national feelings and manners with which he was alone familiar, and from which he drew the exquisite delineations of "Waverley" and its Scottish brethren. All his later works, no doubt, exhibit occasional scenes far beyond the power of any of his imitators; but when his muse quits her native soil, she takes leave of nature, truth, and simplicity. Even the genius of a Scott is inadequate to painting manners he never witnessed, scenery he never beheld.
Yielding to none in rational admiration of the genius of Sir W. Scott, we can't help but wish he had stopped writing once he fully explored the rich landscape of national feelings and behaviors that he knew best, from which he created the beautiful portrayals in "Waverley" and its Scottish counterparts. His later works, without a doubt, include occasional scenes that are beyond the reach of any of his imitators; however, when his muse leaves her homeland, she departs from nature, authenticity, and simplicity. Even Scott's genius can't accurately capture behaviors he never experienced or scenery he never saw.
The tale of the "Talisman" is a flagrant instance. Topography, chronology, historic truth, oriental manners, and individual character, are all treated with a most magnanimous neglect, indeed, even, we might say, with contempt; for, careless, from "security to please," as the author is known to have been, his vagaries must sometimes have proceeded from mere[Pg 129] wilfulness and caprice. It would, we apprehend, perplex our oriental travellers and geographers to point out the site of the fountain named the Diamond of the Desert, not far from the Dead Sea, and yet lying half-way between the camp of the Saracens and that of the Crusaders, which last, we are told, lay between Acre and Ascalon, that is, on the sea-coast, or to show the interminable sandy desert which stretches between the Dead Sea and the Mediterranean. As to historic truth, we may boldly say that there is hardly a single circumstance of the romance in strict accordance with history; and as to the truth of individual character, what are we to say to the grave, serious, religious Saladin, but the very year before his death, being in the flower of his age, rambling alone through the desert, like an errant knight, singing hymns to the Devil, and coming disguised as a physician to the Christian camp, to cure the malady of the English monarch, whom he never, in reality, did or would see[56]? We might enumerate many additional instances of the violation of every kind of unity and propriety in this single tale[57].
The story of the "Talisman" is a blatant example. Geography, timeline, historical accuracy, Eastern customs, and personal character are all treated with a generous disregard, really, we could even say, with contempt; for, careless in his "desire to please," as the author is known to have been, his whims must sometimes have stemmed from sheer[Pg 129] stubbornness and caprice. It would likely confuse our Eastern travelers and geographers to identify the location of the fountain called the Diamond of the Desert, not far from the Dead Sea, yet situated halfway between the camps of the Saracens and the Crusaders, the latter of which is said to have been located between Acre and Ascalon, that is, along the coast, or to illustrate the endless sandy desert that stretches between the Dead Sea and the Mediterranean. Regarding historical accuracy, we can confidently say that hardly a single detail of the story aligns with history; and as for the truth of individual character, what can we say about the serious, devout Saladin, who just a year before his death, at the height of his youth, wandered alone through the desert like a wandering knight, singing hymns to the Devil, and coming in disguise as a doctor to the Christian camp, to heal the illness of the English king, whom he never actually did or would see[56]? We could list many more examples of the disregard for every kind of unity and propriety in this single tale[57].
Let not any deem it superfluous thus to point out the errors of an illustrious writer. The impressions made by his splendid pages on the youthful mind[Pg 130] are permanent and ineffaceable, and, if not corrected, may lead to errors of a graver kind. The "Talisman" moreover affects a delusive show of truth and accuracy; for, in a note in one part of it, the author (ironically, no doubt) affects to correct the historians on a point of history. The natural inference, then, is that he has himself made profound researches, and adhered to truth; and we accordingly find another novelist, in what he terms a history of chivalry, declaring the "Talisman" to be a faithful picture of the manners of the age. Sir W. Scott, however, has himself informed us, in the preface to "Ivanhoe," of his secret for describing the manners of the times of Richard Cœur de Lion. With the chronicles of the time he joined that of Froissart, so rich in splendid pictures of chivalric life. Few readers of these romances perhaps are aware that this was the same in kind, though not in degree, as if, in his tales of the days of Elizabeth and James I., he had had recourse to the manner-painting pages of Henry Fielding; for the distance in point of time between the reign of Richard I. and that of Richard II., in which last Froissart wrote, is as great as that between the reigns of Elizabeth and George II.; and, in both, manners underwent a proportional change. But we are in the habit of regarding the middle ages as one single period of unvarying manners and institutions, and we are too apt to fancy that the descriptions of Froissart and his successors are equally applicable to all parts of it.
Let no one think it's unnecessary to point out the mistakes of a well-known writer. The impact of his impressive pages on young readers[Pg 130] is lasting and irreversible, and, if not addressed, could lead to more serious misunderstandings. The "Talisman" also creates a misleading appearance of truth and accuracy; in one note, the author seems to ironically correct historians on a historical point. The natural conclusion is that he has done thorough research and stuck to the facts; consequently, we find another novelist, in what he calls a history of chivalry, claiming the "Talisman" accurately represents the customs of the time. However, Sir W. Scott has told us himself, in the preface to "Ivanhoe," his technique for depicting the manners of the era of Richard Cœur de Lion. He combined the chronicles of the time with those of Froissart, which are rich in vivid depictions of chivalric life. Few readers of these stories might realize that this was similar in kind, though not in extent, to if, in his stories set during the reigns of Elizabeth and James I, he had relied on the detailed pages of Henry Fielding; the time gap between Richard I’s reign and Richard II’s, when Froissart wrote, is as significant as that between the reigns of Elizabeth and George II—and in both, societal customs underwent a similar transformation. Yet, we tend to view the Middle Ages as a single period with constant customs and institutions, and we often mistakenly believe that the descriptions by Froissart and his successors are applicable to all parts of that era.
Chapter 10.
Jellal-ed-deen—Restoration of Religion—His Harem makes the Pilgrimage to Mecca—Marries the Princess of Ghilan—Geography of the Country between Roodbar and the Caspian—Persian Romance—Zohak and Feridoon—Kei Kaoos and Roostem—Ferdoosee's Description of Mazanderan—History of the Shah Nameh—Proof of the Antiquity of the Tales contained in it.
The unhallowed rule of Mohammed II. lasted for the long space of thirty-five years, during which time all the practices of Islam were neglected by the Ismaïlites. The mosks were closed, the fast of Ramazan neglected, the solemn seasons of prayer despised. But such a state can never last; man must have religion; it is as essential to him as his food; and those pseudo-philosophers who have endeavoured to deprive him of it have only displayed in the attempt their ignorance and folly. The purification of the popular faith is the appropriate task of the true philanthropist.
The unjust rule of Mohammed II lasted for thirty-five years, during which all Islamic practices were ignored by the Ismaïlites. The mosques were shut down, the fast of Ramadan was overlooked, and the sacred times for prayer were disregarded. But such a situation can't continue forever; people need religion; it's as vital to them as food. Those pseudo-philosophers who have tried to strip them of it have only revealed their own ignorance and foolishness. The renewal of the people's faith is the rightful responsibility of a true philanthropist.
We may often observe the son to exhibit a character the diametrically opposite of that of his father, either led by nature or struck by the ill effects of his father's conduct. This common appearance was now exhibited among the Assassins. Mohammed disregarded all the observances of the ceremonial law; his son and successor, Jellal-ed-deen (Glory of Religion) Hassan, distinguished himself, from his early years, by a zeal for the ordinances of Islam. The avowal of his sentiments caused considerable enmity and suspicion between him and Mohammed; the father feared the son, and the son the father. On the days of public[Pg 132] audience, at which Jellal-ed-deen was expected to appear, the old sheikh used the precaution of wearing a shirt of mail under his clothes, and of increasing the number of his guards. His death, which occurred when his son had attained his twenty-fifth year, is ascribed by several historians, though apparently without any sufficient reason, to poison administered to him by his successor.
We often see sons showing traits that are completely opposite to their fathers, either because of their nature or as a result of their father's negative influence. This situation was evident among the Assassins. Mohammed ignored all the rules of the ceremonial law; his son and successor, Jellal-ed-deen (Glory of Religion) Hassan, showed a strong commitment to the practices of Islam from a young age. His open expression of beliefs created significant hostility and distrust between him and Mohammed; the father was afraid of his son, and the son was afraid of his father. On days when Jellal-ed-deen was expected to be seen in public[Pg 132], the old sheikh took precautions by wearing chainmail under his clothes and increasing his number of guards. His death, which happened when his son was twenty-five, is attributed by some historians—though seemingly without solid evidence—to poison given by his successor.
The succession of Jellal-ed-deen was uncontested. He immediately set about placing all things on the footing which they had been on previous to the time of On his Memory be Peace. The mosks were repaired and reopened; the call to prayer sounded as heretofore from the minarets; and the solemn assemblies for worship and instruction were held once more on every Friday. Imams, Koran-readers, preachers, and teachers of all kinds, were invited to Alamoot, where they were honourably entertained and richly rewarded. Jellal-ed-deen wrote to his lieutenants in Kusistan and Syria, informing them of what he had done, and inviting them to follow his example. He also wrote to the khalif, to the powerful Shah of Khaurism, and to all the princes of Persia, to assure them of the purity of his faith. His ambassadors were everywhere received with honour, and the khalif and all the princes gave to Jellal-ed-deen, in the letters which they wrote in reply, the title of prince, which had never been conceded to any of his predecessors. The imams, and the men learned in the law, loudly upheld the orthodoxy of the faith of the mountain-chief, on whom they bestowed the name of Nev (New) Musulman. When the people of Casveen, who had always been at enmity with the Ismaïlites, doubted of his orthodoxy, Jellal-ed-deen condescended to ask of them to send some persons of respectability to Alamoot, that he might have an opportunity of convincing them.[Pg 133] They came, and in their presence he committed to the flames a pile of books which he said were the writings of Hassan Sabah, and contained the secret rules and ordinances of the society. He cursed the memory of Hassan and his successors, and the envoys returned to Casveen, fully convinced of his sincerity.
The succession of Jellal-ed-deen was uncontested. He immediately set about putting everything back the way it was before On his Memory be Peace. The mosques were repaired and reopened; the call to prayer echoed once again from the minarets; and the solemn gatherings for worship and teaching were held every Friday. Imams, Quran-readers, preachers, and all kinds of teachers were invited to Alamoot, where they were treated with honor and generously rewarded. Jellal-ed-deen wrote to his deputies in Kusistan and Syria, letting them know what he had done and encouraging them to do the same. He also wrote to the caliph, the powerful Shah of Khaurism, and all the Persian princes to assure them of his genuine belief. His ambassadors were welcomed everywhere, and the caliph and all the princes granted Jellal-ed-deen the title of prince in their reply letters, a title never given to any of his predecessors. The imams and legal scholars strongly supported the orthodoxy of the mountain chief's faith, giving him the name Nev (New) Musulman. When the people of Casveen, who had always been enemies of the Isma'ilites, questioned his orthodoxy, Jellal-ed-deen kindly asked them to send some respected individuals to Alamoot, so he could convince them. They came, and in their presence, he set fire to a stack of books, claiming they were the writings of Hassan Sabah that contained the secret rules and ordinances of the society. He cursed the memory of Hassan and his successors, and the envoys returned to Casveen, completely convinced of his sincerity.[Pg 133]
In the second year of his reign Jellal-ed-deen gave a further proof of the purity of his religious faith by permitting, or, perhaps, directing, his harem, that is, his mother, his wife, and a long train of their female attendants, to undertake the pilgrimage to the holy city of Mecca, to worship at the tomb of the Prophet. The sacred banner was, according to custom, borne before the caravan of the pilgrims from Alamoot, and the Tesbeel, or distribution of water to the pilgrims, usual on such occasions[58], was performed by the harem of the mountain-prince on such a scale of magnificence and liberality as far eclipsed that of the great Shah of Khaurism, whose caravan reached Bagdad at the same time on its way to Mecca. The khalif Nassir-ladin-Illah even gave precedence to the banner of the pilgrims from Alamoot, and this mark of partiality drew on him the wrath of the potent prince of Khaurism. Twice did the latter afterwards collect an[Pg 134] army to make war on the successor of the Prophet. With the first, consisting of nearly 300,000 men, he marched against Bagdad, and had reached Hamadan and Holuan, when a violent snow-storm obliged him to retire. He had collected his forces a second time, when the hordes of Chinghis Khan burst into his dominions. His son and successor resumed his plans, and reached Hamadan, when again a snow-storm came to avert destruction from the City of Peace. As the power of the Mongol conqueror was now great and formidable, the prudent prince of Alamoot sent in secret ambassadors to assure him of his submission, and to tender his homage.
In the second year of his reign, Jellal-ed-deen demonstrated the sincerity of his religious faith by allowing, or maybe even instructing, his harem—his mother, his wife, and a large group of female attendants—to go on the pilgrimage to the holy city of Mecca to pay their respects at the tomb of the Prophet. The sacred banner was, as per tradition, carried in front of the caravan of pilgrims from Alamoot, and the Tesbeel, the ritual of distributing water to the pilgrims typical for such occasions[58], was carried out by the mountain-prince's harem with such magnificence and generosity that it far surpassed that of the great Shah of Khaurism, whose own caravan reached Baghdad at the same time on its way to Mecca. The caliph Nassir-ladin-Illah even prioritized the banner of the pilgrims from Alamoot, and this display of favoritism angered the powerful prince of Khaurism. Twice afterward, he gathered an[Pg 134] army to wage war against the successor of the Prophet. With the first army, nearly 300,000 strong, he advanced on Baghdad and had reached Hamadan and Holuan when a fierce snowstorm forced him to turn back. He assembled his forces a second time when the army of Chinggis Khan invaded his territories. His son and successor tried to continue his efforts and reached Hamadan, but once again a snowstorm prevented disaster for the City of Peace. As the power of the Mongol conqueror grew increasingly threatening, the wise prince of Alamoot sent secret envoys to assure him of his loyalty and to pay his respects.
Jellal-ed-deen took a more active part in the politics of his neighbours than his predecessors had done. He formed an alliance with the Atabeg Mozaffer-ed-deen (Causing the Religion to be victorious), the governor of Azerbeijan, against the governor of Irak, who was their common enemy. He even visited the Atabeg at his residence, where he was received with the utmost magnificence, and each day the Atabeg sent 1,000 dinars for the expenses of his table. The two princes sent to the khalif for aid; their request was granted; and they marched against, defeated, and slew the governor of Irak, and appointed another in his place. After an absence of eighteen months Jellal-ed-deen returned to Alamoot, having in the mean time, by his prudent conduct, greatly augmented the fame of his orthodoxy. He now ventured to aspire to a connexion with one of the ancient princely houses of the country, and asked in marriage the daughter of Ky Kaoos, the prince of Ghilan. The latter having expressed his readiness to give his consent, provided that of the khalif could be obtained, envoys were despatched to Bagdad, who speedily returned with the approbation of Nassir-ladin-Illah, and the princess of Ghilan was sent to Alamoot.[Pg 135]
Jellal-ed-deen got more involved in the politics of his neighbors than his predecessors had. He formed an alliance with Atabeg Mozaffer-ed-deen (Causing the Religion to be Victorious), the governor of Azerbaijan, against the governor of Iraq, who was their common enemy. He even visited the Atabeg at his residence, where he was welcomed with great splendor, and each day the Atabeg sent 1,000 dinars for his expenses. The two princes asked the caliph for help; their request was granted, and they marched against, defeated, and killed the governor of Iraq, appointing another in his place. After being away for eighteen months, Jellal-ed-deen returned to Alamoot, having significantly enhanced his reputation for orthodoxy through his wise actions. He now dared to seek a connection with one of the ancient royal families of the land, requesting the hand of the daughter of Ky Kaoos, the prince of Ghilan, in marriage. The prince agreed to this, provided they could get the caliph's consent, so envoys were sent to Baghdad, who quickly returned with the approval of Nassir-ladin-Illah, and the princess of Ghilan was sent to Alamoot.[Pg 135]
The mention of Ghilan and of Ky Kaoos presents an opportunity, which we are not willing to let pass, of diversifying our narrative by an excursion into the regions of Persian geography and romance, which may cast a gleam of the sunshine of poetry over the concluding portion of our history of the dark and secret deeds of the Ismaïlites.
The mention of Ghilan and Ky Kaoos gives us a chance that we don’t want to miss to broaden our story with a look into Persian geography and romance, which could add a touch of poetic brightness to the final part of our account of the dark and secret actions of the Ismaïlites.
The mountain range named Demavend, on the south side of which Roodbar, the territory of the Ismaïlites, lies, is the northern termination of the province of Irak Ajemee, or Persian Irak. Beyond it stretches to the Caspian Sea a fertile region, partly hilly, partly plain[59]. This country is divided into five districts, which were in those times distinct from and independent of each other. At the foot of the mountains lay Taberistan and Dilem, the former to the east, the latter to the west. Dilem is celebrated as having been the native country of the family of Buyah, which, rising from the humblest station, exercised under the khalifs, and with the title of Ameer-al-Omra (Prince of the Princes), a power nearly regal over Persia during a century and a half[60]. North of Dilem lay Ghilan, and north of Taberistan Mazenderan, the ancient Hyrcania. In the midst of[Pg 136] these four provinces lay Ruyan and Rostemdar, remarkable for having been governed for a space of 800 years by one family of princes, while dynasty after dynasty rose and fell in the neighbouring states. In these provinces the names of the royal lines recall to our mind the ancient history, both true and fabulous, of Irân (Persia), as we find it in the poem of Ferdoosee, the Homer of that country. The family of Kawpara, which governed Ruyan and Rostemdar, affected to derive their lineage from the celebrated blacksmith Gavah, who raised his apron as the standard of revolt against the Assyrian tyrant Zohak; and the family of Bavend, which ruled for nearly seven centuries, with but two interruptions, over Mazenderan and Taberistan, were descended from the elder brother of Noosheerwan the Just, the most celebrated monarch of the house of Sassan.
The mountain range called Demavend, with Roodbar, the area of the Ismaïlites, on its southern side, marks the northern edge of the region known as Irak Ajemee, or Persian Irak. Beyond it lies a fertile area that stretches to the Caspian Sea, featuring both hills and flatlands[59]. This region is divided into five districts that were distinct and independent from one another at that time. At the base of the mountains are Taberistan to the east and Dilem to the west. Dilem is famous for being the homeland of the Buyah family, which rose from humble beginnings to wield nearly royal power over Persia under the khalifs, known as Ameer-al-Omra (Prince of the Princes), for a century and a half[60]. North of Dilem is Ghilan, and north of Taberistan is Mazenderan, known in ancient times as Hyrcania. Among these four provinces are Ruyan and Rostemdar, notable for being ruled by a single family of princes for 800 years, while dynasties continually rose and fell in the surrounding areas. In these provinces, the names of royal lines remind us of the ancient history, both real and mythical, of Irân (Persia), as recounted in Ferdoosee's poem, the Homer of that land. The Kawpara family, which governed Ruyan and Rostemdar, claimed descent from the famed blacksmith Gavah, who raised his apron as a banner of revolt against the Assyrian tyrant Zohak; while the Bavend family, which ruled over Mazenderan and Taberistan for nearly seven centuries with only two interruptions, descended from the elder brother of Noosheerwan the Just, the most renowned monarch from the Sassanian dynasty.
This region is the classic land of Persia. When, as their romantic history relates, Jemsheed, the third monarch of Iran after Cayamars, the first who ruled over men, had long reigned in happiness and prosperity, his head was lifted up with pride, and God withdrew from him his favour. His dominions were invaded by Zohak, the prince of the Tauzees (Assyrians or Arabs); his subjects fell away from him, and, after lurking for a hundred years in secret places, he fell into the hands of the victor, who cut him asunder with a saw. A child was born of the race of Jemsheed, named Feridoon, whom, as soon as he came to the light (in the village of Wereghi, in Taberistan), his mother Faranuk gave to a herdsman to rear, and his nourishment was the milk of a female buffalo, whose name was Poormayeh. Zohak meantime had a dream, in which he beheld two warriors, who led up to him a third, armed with a club which terminated in the head of a cow. The warrior struck him on the head with his club, and took him and chained[Pg 137] him in the cavern of a mountain. He awoke with a loud cry, and called all the priests, and astrologers, and wise men, to interpret his dream. They feared to speak. At last they told him of the birth and nurture of Feridoon, who was destined to overcome him. Zohak fell speechless from his throne at the intelligence. On recovering, he sent persons in all directions to search for and put to death the fatal child; but the maternal anxiety of Faranuk was on the watch, and she removed the young Feridoon to the celebrated mountain Elburz, where she committed him to the care of a pious anchorite. Zohak, after a long search, discovered the place where Feridoon had been first placed by his mother, and in his rage he killed the beautiful and innocent cow Poormayeh.
This area is the classic land of Persia. According to their romantic history, Jemsheed, the third king of Iran after Cayamars, the first ruler of men, reigned in happiness and prosperity for a long time. However, his pride grew, and God withdrew His favor from him. His lands were invaded by Zohak, the prince of the Tauzees (Assyrians or Arabs); his subjects turned against him, and after hiding for a hundred years in secret spots, he was captured by the victor, who sawed him in half. A child was born from Jemsheed's line, named Feridoon. As soon as he was born (in the village of Wereghi in Taberistan), his mother Faranuk entrusted him to a herdsman to raise, and he was nourished with the milk from a female buffalo named Poormayeh. Meanwhile, Zohak had a dream in which he saw two warriors bringing him a third, armed with a club that ended in the head of a cow. The warrior struck him on the head with the club, chained him, and took him to a mountain cave. He woke up screaming and called all the priests, astrologers, and wise men to interpret his dream. They were afraid to speak. Finally, they informed him about the birth and upbringing of Feridoon, who was destined to defeat him. Zohak fell silent from shock at the news. Once he regained his composure, he sent people in every direction to find and kill the dangerous child; but Faranuk, driven by maternal worry, kept a close watch and moved young Feridoon to the famous Elburz mountain, where she entrusted him to a caring hermit. After a long search, Zohak found the place where Feridoon had first been placed by his mother, and in his rage, he killed the beautiful and innocent cow Poormayeh.
Zohak is represented as a most execrable tyrant. Acting under the counsel of the Devil, he had murdered his own father to get his throne. His infernal adviser afterwards assumed the form of a young man, and became his cook. He prepared for him all manner of curious and high-seasoned dishes; for hitherto the food of mankind had been rude and plain. As a reward, he only asked permission to kiss the shoulders of the king. Zohak readily granted this apparently moderate request; but from the spots where the Devil impressed his lips grew forth two black snakes. In vain every art was employed to remove them, in vain they were cut away, they grew again like plants. The physicians were in perplexity. At length the Devil himself came in the shape of a physician, and said that the only mode of keeping them quiet was to feed them with human brains. His object, we are told, was gradually in this way to destroy the whole race of man.
Zohak is seen as a truly terrible tyrant. Following the advice of the Devil, he killed his own father to take the throne. His evil advisor later took the form of a young man and became his cook. He prepared all sorts of unique and richly flavored dishes; until then, human food had been simple and plain. In return, he only asked to kiss the king's shoulders. Zohak easily accepted this seemingly minor request; however, from the spots where the Devil kissed him, two black snakes emerged. No matter what was tried to remove them, or even when they were cut off, they grew back like weeds. The doctors were baffled. Ultimately, the Devil appeared disguised as a physician and said the only way to keep the snakes calm was to feed them human brains. As we are told, his goal was to gradually wipe out all of humanity.
The design of the Devil seemed likely to be accomplished. Each day two human beings were slain, and the serpents fed with their brains. At length[Pg 138] two of the tyrant's cooks discovered that the brain of a man mixed with that of a ram satisfied the monsters, and, of the two men who were given to be killed each day, they always secretly let go one, and those who were thus delivered became the progenitors of the Koords who dwell in the mountains west of Persia. Among those unfortunate persons who were condemned to be food for the serpents was the son of a blacksmith named Gavah. The afflicted father went boldly before the tyrant, and remonstrated with him on the injustice of his conduct. Zohak heard him with patience and released his son. He also made him bearer of a letter addressed to all the provinces of the empire, vaunting his goodness, and calling on all to support him against the youthful pretender to his throne. But Gavah, instead of executing the mandate, tore the tyrant's letter, and, raising his leathern apron on a lance by way of standard, called on all the inhabitants of Irân to arise and take arms in support of Feridoon, the rightful heir to the throne of Jemsheed.
The Devil's plan seemed likely to succeed. Every day, two people were killed, and their brains were fed to the serpents. Eventually[Pg 138], two of the tyrant's cooks figured out that mixing a man's brain with that of a ram pleased the monsters, so out of the two men killed each day, they always secretly set one free. Those who were spared became the ancestors of the Koords living in the mountains west of Persia. Among those unfortunate souls doomed to be food for the serpents was the son of a blacksmith named Gavah. The distressed father boldly went in front of the tyrant and protested against his unfairness. Zohak listened patiently and released his son. He also made him deliver a letter to all the provinces of the empire, boasting of his kindness and calling on everyone to support him against the young pretender to his throne. But instead of following through with the order, Gavah tore up the tyrant's letter, and, raising his leather apron on a lance as a banner, called on all the people of Irân to rise up and take arms in support of Feridoon, the rightful heir to Jemsheed's throne.

From the Shah Nameh, illuminated Persian MS.
Meantime Feridoon, who had attained the age of twice eight years, came down from Elburz, and, going to his mother, besought her to tell him from whom he derived his birth. Faranuk related to him his whole history, when the young hero, in great emotion, vowed to attack the tyrant, and avenge on him the death of his father; but his mother sought, by representing the great power of Zohak, to divert him from his purpose, and exhorted him to abandon all such thoughts, and to enjoy in quiet the good things of this life. But a numerous army, led by Gavah in search of the true heir to the throne, now came in sight. Feridoon, joyfully advancing to meet them, adorned with gold and precious stones the leathern banner, placed upon it the orb of the moon, and, naming it Direfsh-e-Gavanee (Gavah's Apron),[Pg 139] selected it for the banner of the empire of Irân. Each succeeding prince, we are told, at his accession, added jewels to it, and Direfsh-e-Gavanee blazed in the front of battle like a sun. Feridoon, then calling for smiths, drew for them in the sand the form of a club, with a cow's head at the end of it,[Pg 140] and when they had made it he named it Gawpeigor (Cow-face), in honour of his nurse. Taking leave of his mother, he marches against the tyrant; an angel comes from heaven to aid the rightful cause; Zohak is deserted by his troops; he falls into the hands of Feridoon, who, by the direction of the angel, imprisons him in a cavern of the mountain Demavend. Feridoon, on ascending the throne of his forefathers, governed with such mildness, firmness, and justice, that his name is to the present day in Persia significative of the ideal of a perfect monarch[61].
Meanwhile, Feridoon, who was now sixteen years old, came down from Elburz and went to his mother, asking her to tell him about his origins. Faranuk shared his entire history, and the young hero, filled with emotion, vowed to confront the tyrant and avenge his father's death. However, his mother tried to persuade him against this path by highlighting Zohak's great power, urging him to let go of such thoughts and enjoy the good things in life peacefully. Just then, a large army led by Gavah appeared, searching for the true heir to the throne. Feridoon, excited to meet them, adorned the leather banner with gold and precious stones, placed the orb of the moon on it, and named it Direfsh-e-Gavanee (Gavah's Apron), selecting it as the banner of the Irân empire. We’re told that each succeeding prince added jewels to it upon his accession, and Direfsh-e-Gavanee shone in battle like the sun. Feridoon then called for blacksmiths, drew a club shape with a cow's head at the end in the sand,[Pg 140] and after they made it, he named it Gawpeigor (Cow-face) in honor of his nurse. After saying goodbye to his mother, he set off to confront the tyrant; an angel descended from heaven to support the rightful cause; Zohak was abandoned by his troops; he was captured by Feridoon, who, guided by the angel, imprisoned him in a cave on Mount Demavend. Once Feridoon ascended the throne of his ancestors, he ruled with such kindness, strength, and fairness that his name remains a symbol of the ideal monarch in Persia to this day.[61].
Mazenderan is not less celebrated in Persian romance than the region at the foot of Demavend. It was the scene of the dangers of the light-minded Kej Kaoos (supposed to be the Cyaxares of the Greeks), and of the marvellous adventures called the Seven Fables or Stages of the Hero Roostem, the Hercules of Persia, who came to his aid. When Kej Kaoos mounted the throne of Irân, he exulted in his wealth and in his power. A deev (Demon), desirous of luring him to his destruction, assumed the guise of a wandering minstrel, and, coming to his court, sought to be permitted to sing before the padisha (Emperor). His request was acceded to,—his theme was the praises of Mazenderan, and he sang to this effect:—
Mazenderan is just as famous in Persian romance as the area at the base of Demavend. It was the setting for the dangers faced by the reckless Kej Kaoos (thought to be the Cyaxares of the Greeks) and for the amazing adventures known as the Seven Fables or Stages of the Hero Roostem, the Hercules of Persia, who came to his rescue. When Kej Kaoos ascended to the throne of Irân, he reveled in his wealth and power. A deev (Demon), wanting to lead him to his doom, disguised himself as a traveling minstrel and, arriving at his court, requested to perform before the padisha (Emperor). His request was granted,—his topic was the beauty of Mazenderan, and he sang accordingly:—
"Mazenderan deserves that the shah should think on it; the rose blooms evermore in its gardens, its hills are arrayed with tulips and jessamines, mild is the air, the earth is bright of hue, neither cold nor heat oppresses the lovely land, spring abides there[Pg 141] evermore, the nightingale sings without ceasing in the gardens, and the deer bound joyously through the woods. The earth is never weary of pouring forth fruits, the air is evermore filled with fragrance, like unto rose-water are the streams, the tulip glows unceasingly on the meads, pure are the rivers, and their banks are smiling: ever mayest thou behold the falcon at the chase. All its districts are adorned with abundance of food, beyond measure are the treasures which are there piled up, the flowers bend in worship before the throne, and around it stand the men of renown richly girded with gold. Who dwelleth not there knoweth no pleasure, as joy and luxuriant pastime are to him unknown."
"Mazenderan deserves the shah's attention; its gardens are always blooming with roses, its hills are filled with tulips and jasmine, the air is gentle, and the land is vibrant. It’s neither too cold nor too hot, and spring is always present. The nightingale sings continuously in the gardens, and deer joyfully leap through the woods. The earth never gets tired of producing fruits, the air is constantly fragrant, the streams are as refreshing as rose water, tulips never stop glowing in the meadows, the rivers are pure, and their banks are cheerful: you can always see the falcon hunting. All its regions are rich with food, and the treasures piled there are beyond measure. The flowers bow in reverence before the throne, with renowned men adorned in gold standing around it. Those who don’t reside there know no pleasure, for joy and luxury are completely foreign to them.[Pg 141]"
Kej Kaoos was beguiled by the tempter, and, eager to get possession of so rich a land, he led a large army into it. The Shah of Mazenderan was aided by a potent demon or enchanter named the Deev Seffeed (White Deev), who, by his magic arts, cast a profound darkness over the Irânian monarch and his host, in which they would have all been destroyed but for the timely arrival of Roostem, who, after surmounting all the impediments that magic could throw in his way, slew the Deev Seffeed, and delivered his sovereign.
Kej Kaoos was tempted and, eager to take control of such a wealthy land, he marched a large army into it. The Shah of Mazenderan was supported by a powerful demon or sorcerer known as the Deev Seffeed (White Deev), who used his magical powers to shroud the Iranian king and his army in deep darkness, threatening to destroy them all. However, Roostem arrived just in time, overcoming all the obstacles the magic put in his path, and killed the Deev Seffeed, rescuing his king.
Kej Kaoos, we are afterwards told by the poet, formed the insane project of ascending to heaven, which he attempted in the following manner. A stage was constructed on which a throne was set for the monarch; four javelins were placed at the corners, with pieces of goat's flesh on them, and four hungry eagles were tied at the bottom, who, by their efforts to reach the meat, raised the stage aloft into the air; but when the strength of the birds was exhausted the whole fell with the royal aëronaut in the desert, where he was found by Roostem and the other chiefs.[Pg 142]
Kej Kaoos, as the poet later tells us, came up with the crazy idea of trying to ascend to heaven. He attempted this in the following way: a platform was built with a throne for the king; four javelins were placed at each corner, with pieces of goat meat on them, and four hungry eagles were tied underneath. The eagles, desperate to reach the meat, lifted the platform into the air. However, once the birds got tired, everything came crashing down in the desert, where Roostem and the other chiefs found the fallen royal flyer.[Pg 142]

From the Same.
The history of the Shah-nameh (King-book), in which these legends are contained, is one of the most curious in literature. The fanaticism of the Arabs, who conquered Persia, raged with indiscriminate fury against the literature, as well as the religion, of that country; and when, in the time of Al-Mansoor and[Pg 143] his successors Haroon-er-Rasheed and Al-Mamoon, the Arabs themselves began to devote their attention to literature and science, it was the science of Greece and the poetry of their native language that they cultivated. The Persian literature meantime languished in obscurity, and the traditional, heroic, and legendary tales of the nation were fading fast from memory, when a governor of a province, zealous, as it would appear, for the honour of the Persian nation, made a collection of them, and formed from them a continuous narrative in prose. The book thus formed was called the Bostan-nameh (Garden-book). It was in great repute in the northern part of Persia, where, at a distance from the court of the khalifs, the Persian manners, language, and nationality were better preserved; and when the Turkish family of the Samenee founded an empire in that part of Persia, sultan Mansoor I., of that race, gave orders to a poet named Dakeekee to turn the Bastan-nameh into Persian verse. The poet undertook the task, but he had not made more than a thousand verses when he perished by assassination. There being no one supposed capable of continuing his work, it was suspended till twenty years afterwards, when the celebrated Mahmood of Ghizni, the conqueror of India, meeting with the Bastan-nameh, gave portions of it to three of the most renowned poets of the time to versify. The palm of excellence was adjudged to Anseri, who versified the tale of Sohrab slain by his own father Roostem, one of the most pathetic and affecting narratives in any language. The sultan made him Prince of the Poets, and directed him to versify the entire work; but, diffident of his powers, Anseri shrank from the task, and having some time afterwards met a poet of Toos in Khorasan, named Isaac, the son of Sheriff-Shah, surnamed Ferdoosee[Pg 144] (Paradisal[62]), either from his father's employment as a gardener, or from the beauty of his verses, he introduced him to the sultan, who gladly committed the task to him. Ferdoosee laboured with enthusiasm in the celebration of the ancient glories of his country; and in the space of thirty or, as some assert, of only eight years, he brought the poem to within two thousand lines of its termination, which lines were added by another poet after his death.
The history of the Shah-nameh (King-book), which contains these legends, is one of the most fascinating in literature. The fanaticism of the Arabs, who conquered Persia, unleashed a ruthless attack on both the literature and the religion of that country. When, during the time of Al-Mansoor, and his successors Haroon-er-Rasheed and Al-Mamoon, the Arabs began to focus on literature and science, they mainly pursued Greek science and the poetry of their own language. Meanwhile, Persian literature fell into obscurity, and the traditional heroic and legendary stories of the nation were quickly fading from memory. To counter this, a governor of a province, seemingly eager to honor the Persian nation, compiled these stories into a continuous prose narrative. The resulting book was called the Bostan-nameh (Garden-book). It gained significant popularity in northern Persia, where, further away from the court of the khalifs, Persian traditions, language, and identity were more preserved. When the Turkish Samenee family established an empire there, Sultan Mansoor I. ordered a poet named Dakeekee to adapt the Bostan-nameh into Persian verse. Dakeekee started the project but was assassinated after writing only about a thousand verses. With no one thought capable of continuing his work, it remained unfinished until twenty years later, when the famous Mahmood of Ghizni, who conquered India, came across the Bostan-nameh and tasked three renowned poets of the time with versifying portions of it. The honor for the best work went to Anseri, who adapted the story of Sohrab, who was killed by his own father, Roostem; it is one of the most emotional narratives in any language. The sultan named him Prince of the Poets and asked him to turn the entire work into verse. However, unsure of his abilities, Anseri hesitated. Later, he met a poet from Toos in Khorasan named Isaac, son of Sheriff-Shah, nicknamed Ferdoosee[Pg 144] (Paradisal[62]), who was either influenced by his father's work as a gardener or the beauty of his verses. Anseri introduced him to the sultan, who eagerly entrusted the task to him. Ferdoosee worked passionately to celebrate the ancient glories of his country, and over the span of thirty years, or as some say, just eight years, he brought the poem within two thousand lines of completion; these final lines were added by another poet after his death.
The Shah-nameh is, beyond comparison, the finest poem of the Mohammedan east. It consists of 60,000 rhymed couplets, and embraces the history of Persia, from the beginning of the world to the period of its conquest by the Arabs. The verses move on with spirit and rapidity, resembling more the flow of our lyrical, than that of our common heroic, lines[63].
The Shah-nameh is undoubtedly the greatest poem of the Mohammedan east. It consists of 60,000 rhymed couplets and covers the history of Persia, from the beginning of the world to the time of its conquest by the Arabs. The verses are lively and fast-paced, more like the flow of our lyrical poetry than our usual heroic lines[63].
Ferdoosee wrote his poem in the early part of the eleventh century from a book which had been in existence a long time before, for he always calls it an old book. No proof therefore is needed that he did not invent the tales which compose the Shah-nameh, and they have every appearance of having been the ancient traditionary legends of the Persian nation. But we are able to show that these legends were popular in Persia nearly six centuries before his time; and it was chiefly with a view to establishing this[Pg 145] curious point that we related the tale of Zohak and Feridoon.
Ferdoosee wrote his poem in the early 11th century based on a book that had existed long before, as he always refers to it as an old book. So, there's no need for proof that he came up with the stories in the Shah-nameh himself; they clearly seem to be the ancient traditional legends of the Persian nation. We can also show that these legends were well-known in Persia nearly six centuries before his time, and it was mainly to highlight this[Pg 145] interesting point that we shared the story of Zohak and Feridoon.
Moses of Choren, the Armenian historian, who wrote about the year 440, thus addresses the person to whom his work is dedicated. "How should the vain and empty fables about Byrasp Astyages gain any portion of thy favour, or why shouldest thou impose on us the fatigue of elucidating the absurd, tasteless, senseless legends of the Persians about him? to wit, of his first injurious benefit of the demoniac powers which were subject to him, and how he could not deceive him who was deception and falsehood itself. Then, of the kiss on the shoulders, whence the dragons came, and how thenceforward the growth of vice destroyed mankind by the pampering of the belly, until at last a certain Rhodones bound him with chains of brass, and brought him to the mountain which is called Demavend; how Byraspes then dragged to a hill Rhodones, when he fell asleep on the way, but this last, awaking out of his sleep, brought him to a cavern of the mountain, where he chained him fast, and set an image opposite to him, so that, terrified by it, and held by the chains, he might never more escape to destroy the world."
Moses of Choren, the Armenian historian, who wrote around 440, addresses the person to whom his work is dedicated: "How can the ridiculous and empty stories about Byrasp Astyages earn any of your favor, or why should you make us endure the task of explaining the absurd, tasteless, and meaningless legends the Persians tell about him? For example, the tale of his first harmful benefit from the demonic powers that were under his control, and how he couldn't deceive the one who is deception and falsehood itself. Then there's the story about the kiss on the shoulders, from which the dragons emerged, and how this led to the growth of vice that ruined humanity by indulging the desires of the belly, until finally, a certain Rhodones bound him with chains of bronze and brought him to the mountain known as Demavend. Byraspes then dragged Rhodones up a hill when he fell asleep along the way, but once Rhodones woke up, he took him to a cave in the mountain, where he secured him tightly and set up an image opposite him, so that, terrified by it and held by the chains, he would never escape to bring destruction to the world."
Here we have evidently the whole story of Zohak and Feridoon current in Persia in the fifth century; and any one who has reflected on the nature of tradition must be well aware that it must have existed there for centuries before. The very names are nearly the same. Taking the first syllable from Feridoon, it becomes nearly Rodon, and Biyraspi Aidahaki (the words of the Armenian text) signify the dragon Byrasp: Zohak is evidently nearly the same with the last word. This fable could hardly have been invented in the time of the Sassanian dynasty, who had not then been more than two centuries on the throne, much less during the period of[Pg 146] the dominion of the Parthian Arsacides, who were adverse to everything Persian. We are therefore carried back to the times of the Kejanians, the Achæmenides of the Greeks; and it is by no means impossible that the tale of Zohak and Feridoon was known even to the host which Xerxes led to the subjugation of Greece.
Here we clearly have the whole story of Zohak and Feridoon as it existed in Persia in the fifth century; anyone who has thought about the nature of tradition must realize it had been around for centuries before that. The names are almost the same. If we take the first syllable from Feridoon, it becomes almost Rodon, and Biyraspi Aidahaki (the terms from the Armenian text) mean the dragon Byrasp: Zohak is clearly very similar to that last word. This fable couldn’t have been created during the Sassanian dynasty, which had only been in power for less than two centuries, let alone during the time of [Pg 146] the Parthian Arsacides, who were opposed to everything Persian. Therefore, we are taken back to the times of the Kejanians, the Achæmenides according to the Greeks; and it’s definitely possible that the story of Zohak and Feridoon was known even to the army that Xerxes led to conquer Greece.
It is well known to those versed in oriental history that, when the founder of the house of Sassan mounted the throne of Persia in the year 226, he determined to bring back everything, as far as was possible, to its state in the time of the Kejanians, from whom he affected to be descended, and that his successors trod in his footsteps. But, as Persia had been for five centuries and a half under the dominion of the Greeks and Parthians, there was probably no authentic record of the ancient state of things remaining. Recourse was therefore had to the traditional tales of the country; and, as the legend of Zohak and Feridoon was, as we have seen, one of the most remarkable of these tales, it was at once adopted as a genuine portion of the national history, and a banner formed to represent the Apron of Gavah, which was, as the poet describes it, adorned with additional jewels by each monarch of the house of Sassan at his accession. This hypothesis will very simply explain the circumstance of this banner being unnoticed by the Greek writers, while it is an undoubted fact that it was captured by the Arabs at the battle of Kadiseäh, which broke the power of Persia,—a circumstance which has perplexed Sir John Malcolm.
It is well known to those knowledgeable about Eastern history that when the founder of the Sassanian dynasty took the throne of Persia in 226, he aimed to restore everything, as much as possible, to its state during the Kayanian era, from which he claimed to be descended. His successors followed his lead. However, since Persia had been under Greek and Parthian rule for over five centuries, there were likely no reliable records left of the ancient conditions. Therefore, they turned to the traditional stories of the nation; and since the legend of Zohak and Feridoon was one of the most significant of these tales, it was quickly accepted as an authentic part of the national history. A banner was created to symbolize the Apron of Gavah, which, as described by the poet, was embellished with more jewels by each Sassanian king upon his ascension. This theory easily explains why this banner was overlooked by Greek historians, while it is a well-documented fact that it was captured by the Arabs at the Battle of Qadisiya, which marked the decline of Persian power—a situation that has confused Sir John Malcolm.
We will finally observe that the historian just alluded to, as well as some others, thinks that the darkness cast by the magic art of the White Deev over Ky Kaoos and his army in Mazanderan coincides with the eclipse of the sun predicted by Thales,[Pg 147] and which, according to Herodotus, parted the armies of the Medians and the Lydians when engaged in conflict. Little stress is however, we apprehend, to be laid on such coincidences. Tradition does not usually retain the memory of facts of this nature, though fiction is apt enough to invent them. The only circumstances which we have observed in the early part of the Shah-nameh agreeing with Grecian history, are some relating to the youthful days of Kei Khoosroo, which are very like what Herodotus relates of Cyrus.
We will finally note that the historian previously mentioned, along with a few others, believes that the darkness created by the magic of the White Deev over Ky Kaoos and his army in Mazanderan aligns with the solar eclipse predicted by Thales,[Pg 147] which, according to Herodotus, separated the armies of the Medians and Lydians during their battle. However, we think we should not put too much emphasis on such coincidences. Tradition typically doesn’t remember events like this, though fiction is quite capable of inventing them. The only points we've noticed in the early part of the Shah-nameh that match Grecian history are a few pertaining to the early life of Kei Khoosroo, which closely resemble what Herodotus says about Cyrus.
We now return to the history of the Assassins.
We now return to the history of the Assassins.
Chapter 11.
Death of Jellal-ed-deen—Character of Ala-ed-deen, his successor—The Sheikh Jemal-ed-deen—The Astronomer Nasir-ed-deen—The Vizir Sheref-al-Moolk—Death of Ala-ed-deen—Succession of Rukn-ed-deen, the last Sheikh-al-Jebal.
The reign of Jellal-ed-deen, which, unfortunately for the society, lasted but twelve years, was unstained by blood; and we see no reason to doubt the judgment of the oriental historians, who consider his faith in Islam as being sincere and pure. It was probably his virtue that caused his death, for his life, it was suspected, was terminated by poison administered by his own kindred. His son Ala-ed-deen[64] (Eminence of Religion), who succeeded him, was but nine years old; but as, according to the maxims of the Ismaïlites, the visible representative of the imam was, to a certain extent, exempted from the ordinary imperfections of humanity, and his commands were to be regarded as those of him whose authority he bore, the young Ala-ed-deen was obeyed as implicitly as any of his predecessors. At his mandate the blood was shed of all among his relatives who were suspected of having participated in the murder of his father.
The reign of Jellal-ed-deen lasted just twelve years, which, unfortunately for society, was free from bloodshed; we have no reason to doubt the judgment of Eastern historians who view his faith in Islam as sincere and genuine. It was likely his virtue that led to his demise, as it was suspected that he was poisoned by his own relatives. His son, Ala-ed-deen[64] (Eminence of Religion), who took over at just nine years old, was still obeyed just as blindly as any of his predecessors, since, according to Ismaïlite beliefs, the visible representative of the imam was somewhat free from the usual flaws of humanity, and his commands were seen as those of the authority he represented. At his order, all relatives suspected of being involved in his father's murder were executed.
Ala-ed-deen proved to be a weak, inefficient ruler. His delight was in the breeding and tending of sheep, and he spent his days in the cotes among the herdsmen, while the affairs of the society were allowed to run into disorder. All the restraints imposed by his father were removed, and every one was left to do[Pg 149] what was right in his own eyes. The weakness of this prince's intellect is ascribed to his having, in the fifth year of his reign, had himself most copiously bled without the knowledge of his physician, the consequence of which was an extreme degree of debility and a deep melancholy, which never afterwards left him. From that time no one could venture to offer him advice respecting either his health or the state of the affairs of the society, without being rewarded for it by the rack or by instant death. Everything was therefore kept concealed from him, and he had neither friend nor adviser.
Ala-ed-deen turned out to be a weak and ineffective ruler. He found joy in raising and caring for sheep, spending his days in the pens with the herdsmen while the community fell into chaos. All the restrictions his father had put in place were lifted, and everyone was free to do[Pg 149] whatever they thought was right. His intellectual weakness was blamed on a severe bloodletting he underwent in the fifth year of his reign without his doctor’s knowledge, which left him extremely weak and deeply depressed, a condition that stayed with him afterward. From that point on, nobody dared to advise him about his health or the community’s issues without risking torture or instant death as a consequence. As a result, everything was kept hidden from him, and he had neither friends nor advisors.
Yet Ala-ed-deen was not without some estimable qualities. He had a respect and esteem for learning and learned men. For the sheikh Jemal-ed-deen Ghili, who dwelt at Casveen, he testified on all occasions the utmost reverence, and sent him annually 500 dinars to defray the expenses of his household. When the people of Casveen reproached the learned sheikh with living on the bounty of the Impious, he made answer, "The imams pronounce it lawful to execute the Ismaïlites, and to confiscate their goods; how much more lawful is it for a man to make use of their property and their money when they give them voluntarily!" Ala-ed-deen, who probably heard of the reproaches directed against his friend, sent to assure the people of Casveen that it was solely on account of the sheikh that he spared them, or else he would put the earth of Casveen into bags, hang the bags about the necks of the inhabitants, and bring them to Alamoot. The following instance of his respect for the sheikh is also related. A messenger coming with a letter to him from the sheikh was so imprudent as to deliver it to him when he was drunk. Ala-ed-deen ordered him to have a hundred blows of the bastinade, at the same time crying out to him, "O foolish and thoughtless man, to give me[Pg 150] a letter from the sheikh at the time when I was drunk! Thou shouldest have waited till I was come out of the bath, and was come to my senses."
Yet Ala-ed-deen had some admirable qualities. He respected and valued knowledge and scholars. He showed the utmost reverence for Sheikh Jemal-ed-deen Ghili, who lived in Casveen, and sent him 500 dinars each year to support his household. When the people of Casveen criticized the learned sheikh for relying on the Impious for his livelihood, he replied, "The imams say it's lawful to execute the Ismaïlites and seize their wealth; how much more acceptable is it for someone to use their property and money when they give it willingly!" Ala-ed-deen, likely aware of the criticism aimed at his friend, assured the people of Casveen that he spared them only because of the sheikh; otherwise, he would have filled bags with the earth of Casveen, hung them around the necks of the inhabitants, and taken them to Alamoot. Another example of his respect for the sheikh is also mentioned. A messenger, who brought a letter from the sheikh, foolishly handed it to him while he was drunk. Ala-ed-deen ordered the messenger to receive a hundred lashes, exclaiming, "O foolish man, how could you give me a letter from the sheikh while I was drunk? You should have waited until I had come out of the bath and was sober."
The celebrated astronomer Nasir-ed-deen (Victory of Religion) had also gained the consideration of Ala-ed-deen, who was anxious to enjoy the pleasure of his society. But the philosopher, who resided at Bokhara, testified little inclination to accept of the favour intended him. Ala-ed-deen therefore sent orders to the Dai-al-Kebir of Kuhistan to convey the uncourteous sage to Alamoot. As Nasir-ed-deen was one day recreating himself in the gardens about Bokhara, he found himself suddenly surrounded by some men, who, showing him a horse, directed him to mount, telling him he had nothing to fear if he conducted himself quietly. It was in vain that he argued and remonstrated; he was far on the road to Kuhistan, which was 600 miles distant, before his friends knew he was gone. The governor made every apology for what he had been obliged to do. The philosopher was sent on to Alamoot to be the companion of Ala-ed-deen, and it was while he was there that he wrote his great work called the Morals of Nasir (Akhlaak-Nasiree).[65]
The famous astronomer Nasir-ed-deen (Victory of Religion) had also gained the favor of Ala-ed-deen, who was eager to enjoy his company. However, the philosopher, who lived in Bokhara, showed little interest in accepting this honor. As a result, Ala-ed-deen ordered the Dai-al-Kebir of Kuhistan to bring the rude sage to Alamoot. One day, while Nasir-ed-deen was relaxing in the gardens around Bokhara, he suddenly found himself surrounded by some men who showed him a horse and instructed him to get on, assuring him that he had nothing to worry about if he behaved himself. He protested and argued in vain; he was well on his way to Kuhistan, which was 600 miles away, before his friends realized he was gone. The governor made every excuse for what he was compelled to do. The philosopher was sent on to Alamoot to be with Ala-ed-deen, and it was there that he wrote his major work titled the Morals of Nasir (Akhlaak-Nasiree).[65]
It was during the administration of Ala-ed-deen that the following event, so strongly illustrative of the modes of procedure of the Assassins, took place. The sultan Jellal-ed-deen, the last ruler of Khaurism, so well known for his heroic resistance to Chingis[Pg 151] Khan, had appointed the emir Arkhan governor of Nishaboor, which bordered closely on the Ismaïlite territory of Kuhistan. Arkhan being obliged to attend the sultan, the deputy whom he left in his stead made several destructive incursions into Kuhistan, and laid waste the Ismaïlite districts of Teem and Kaïn. The Ismaïlites sent to demand satisfaction, but the only reply made to their complaints and menaces by the deputy-governor was one of those symbolical proceedings so common in the east. He came to receive the Ismaïlite envoy with his girdle stuck full of daggers, which he flung on the ground before him, to signify either his disregard for the daggers of the society, or to intimate that he could play at that game as well as they. The Ismaïlites were not, however, persons to be provoked with impunity, and shortly afterwards three Fedavees were despatched to Kunja, where Arkhan was residing at the court of the sultan. They watched till the emir came without the walls of the town, and then fell upon and murdered him. They then hastened to the house of Sheref-al-Moolk (Nobleness of the Realm), the vizir, and penetrated into his divan. Fortunately he was at that time engaged with the sultan, and they missed him; but they wounded severely one of his servants, and then, sallying forth, paraded the streets, proclaiming aloud that they were Assassins. They did not however escape the penalty of their temerity, for the people assembled and stoned them to death.
It was during Ala-ed-deen's rule that the following event, which vividly illustrates the methods of the Assassins, occurred. Sultan Jellal-ed-deen, the last ruler of Khaurism, known for his brave resistance against Chingis[Pg 151] Khan, had appointed emir Arkhan as governor of Nishaboor, which was closely adjacent to the Ismaïlite territory of Kuhistan. Since Arkhan had to attend to the sultan, the deputy he left in charge launched several attacks into Kuhistan, devastating the Ismaïlite areas of Teem and Kaïn. The Ismaïlites sent a request for justice, but the deputy-governor responded in a way typical of the east. He met the Ismaïlite envoy with a belt full of daggers, which he threw on the ground in front of him, either to show his indifference to the society's weapons or to imply that he could engage in such actions just as well. However, the Ismaïlites were not to be provoked without consequences, and soon after, three Fedavees were sent to Kunja, where Arkhan was staying at the sultan’s court. They waited until the emir left the town walls, then attacked and killed him. They quickly made their way to the house of Sheref-al-Moolk (Nobleness of the Realm), the vizir, and burst into his divan. Fortunately, he was meeting with the sultan at that moment, so they missed him; however, they severely injured one of his servants. Then, they rushed out into the streets, loudly declaring that they were Assassins. They did not escape the consequences of their boldness, as the people gathered and stoned them to death.
An envoy of the Ismaïlites, named Bedr-ed-deen (Full Moon of Religion) Ahmed, was meantime on his way to the court of the sultan. He stopped short on hearing what had occurred, and sent to the vizir to know whether he should go on or return. Sheref-al-Moolk, who feared to irritate the Assassins, directed him to continue his journey, and, when he was[Pg 152] arrived, showed him every mark of honour. The object of Bedr-ed-deen's mission was to obtain satisfaction for the ravages committed on the Ismaïlite territory and the cession of the fortress of Damaghan. The vizir promised the former demand without a moment's hesitation, and he made as little difficulty with regard to the second. An instrument was drawn out assigning to the Ismaïlites the fortress which they craved, on condition of their remitting annually to the royal treasury the sum of 30,000 pieces of gold.
An envoy from the Ismaïlites, named Bedr-ed-deen (Full Moon of Religion) Ahmed, was on his way to the sultan's court. He stopped when he heard what had happened and sent a message to the vizir to ask whether he should continue or head back. Sheref-al-Moolk, worried about upsetting the Assassins, told him to keep going, and when he arrived, he received him with great respect. Bedr-ed-deen's mission was to seek compensation for the damage done to Ismaïlite land and to get the fortress of Damaghan. The vizir agreed to the first request without hesitation and had no trouble with the second. A document was prepared granting the Ismaïlites the fortress they wanted, on the condition that they pay 30,000 gold pieces to the royal treasury each year.
When this affair was arranged the sultan set out for Azerbeijan, and the Ismaïlite ambassador remained the guest of the vizir. One day, after a splendid banquet, when the wine, which they had been drinking in violation of the law, had mounted into their heads, the ambassador told the vizir, by way of confidence, that there were several Ismaïlites among the pages, grooms, guards, and other persons who were immediately about the sultan. The vizir, dismayed, and at the same time curious to know who these dangerous attendants were, besought the ambassador to point them out to him, giving him his napkin as a pledge that nothing evil should happen to them. Instantly, at a sign from the envoy, five of the persons who were attendants of the chamber stepped forth, avowing themselves to be concealed Assassins. "On such a day, and at such an hour," said one of them, an Indian, to the vizir, "I might have slain thee without being seen or punished; and, if I did not do so, it was only because I had no orders from my superiors." The vizir, timid by nature, and rendered still more so by the effects of the wine, stripped himself to his shirt, and, sitting down before the five Assassins, conjured them by their lives to spare him, protesting that he was as devotedly the slave of the sheikh Ala-ed-deen as of the sultan Jellal-ed-deen.[Pg 153]
When this situation was arranged, the sultan headed for Azerbaijan, and the Ismaïlite ambassador stayed as the guest of the vizier. One day, after a lavish banquet, when the wine they had been drinking—against the law—had started to affect them, the ambassador confidentially told the vizier that there were several Ismaïlites among the attendants, servants, guards, and others who were close to the sultan. The vizir, alarmed and also eager to know who these dangerous individuals were, urged the ambassador to identify them, promising with his napkin that no harm would come to them. Immediately, at a signal from the envoy, five of the chamber attendants stepped forward, declaring themselves to be hidden Assassins. "On such a day, and at such an hour," said one of them, an Indian, to the vizir, "I could have killed you without being noticed or punished; and if I didn’t, it was only because I didn't have instructions from my superiors." The vizir, naturally timid and even more so due to the effects of the wine, took off his outer clothes and, sitting in his shirt before the five Assassins, begged for his life, insisting that he was just as devoted to Sheikh Ala-ed-deen as he was to Sultan Jellal-ed-deen.[Pg 153]
As soon as the sultan heard of the meanness and cowardice of his vizir, he sent a messenger to him with the keenest reproaches, and an order to burn alive the five Ismaïlites without an instant's delay. The vizir, though loth, was obliged to comply, and, in violation of his promise, the five chamberlains were cast on the flaming pyre, where they died exulting at being found worthy to suffer in the service of the great Sheikh-al-Jebal. The master of the pages was also put to death for having admitted Ismaïlites among them. The sultan then set out for Irak, leaving the vizir in Azerbeijan. While he was there an envoy arrived from Alamoot, who, on being admitted to an audience, thus spake, "Thou hast given five Ismaïlites to the flames; to redeem thy head, pay 10,000 pieces of gold for each of these unfortunate men." The vizir heaped honours on the envoy, and directed his secretary to draw out a deed in the usual forms, by which he bound himself to pay the Ismaïlites the annual sum of 10,000 pieces of gold, besides paying for them the 30,000 which went to the treasury of the sultan. Sheref-al-Moolk was then assured that he had nothing to apprehend.
As soon as the sultan heard about the cruelty and cowardice of his vizier, he sent a messenger with sharp criticism and an order to burn the five Ismailis alive without delay. The vizier, though reluctant, had to obey, and against his promise, the five chamberlains were thrown onto the burning pyre, where they died proudly, feeling honored to suffer in the service of the great Sheikh-al-Jebal. The master of the pages was also killed for allowing Ismailis among them. The sultan then headed to Irak, leaving the vizier in Azerbaijan. While he was there, an envoy arrived from Alamoot, who, upon being granted an audience, said, "You have burned five Ismailis; to save your own life, pay 10,000 gold pieces for each of these unfortunate men." The vizier honored the envoy and instructed his secretary to prepare a formal document in which he promised to pay the Ismailis an annual amount of 10,000 gold pieces, in addition to the 30,000 that went to the sultan's treasury. Sheref-al-Moolk was then assured that he had nothing to fear.
The preceding very characteristic anecdote rests on good authority, for it is related by Aboo-'l-Fetah Nissavee, the vizir's secretary, in his life of sultan Jellal-ed-deen.
The previous very notable story is well-sourced, as it's told by Aboo-'l-Fetah Nissavee, the vizir's secretary, in his biography of Sultan Jellal-ed-deen.
The astronomer Nasir-ed-deen was not the only involuntary captive of Alamoot. Ala-ed-deen sent once to Farsistan to the atabeg Mozaffer-ed-deen, to request that he would send him an able physician. Requests from Alamoot were not lightly to be disregarded, and the atabeg despatched the imam Beha-ed-deen, one of the most renowned physicians of the time, to the mountains of Jebal. The skill of the imam proved of great benefit to the prince, but when the physician applied for leave to return to his family[Pg 154] he found that he was destined to pass the remainder of his days in Alamoot, unless he should outlive his patient.
The astronomer Nasir-ed-deen wasn't the only unwilling captive of Alamoot. Ala-ed-deen once sent a message to Farsistan to the atabeg Mozaffer-ed-deen, asking him to send an experienced doctor. Requests from Alamoot weren't easily ignored, so the atabeg sent Imam Beha-ed-deen, one of the most famous physicians of the time, to the mountains of Jebal. The imam's skills greatly helped the prince, but when the physician requested to go back to his family[Pg 154], he discovered that he was meant to spend the rest of his life in Alamoot unless he outlived his patient.
The imam's release, however, was more speedy than he expected. Ala-ed-deen, who had several children, had nominated the eldest of them, Rukn-ed-deen (Support of Religion), while he was yet a child, to be his successor. As Rukn-ed-deen grew up the people began to hold him in equal respect with his father, and to consider his commands as equally binding on them. Ala-ed-deen took offence, and declared that he would give the succession to another of his children; but, as this directly contravened one of the Ismaïlite maxims, namely, that the first nomination was always the true one, it was little heeded. Rukn-ed-deen, in apprehension for his life, which his father threatened, retired to a strong castle to wait there the time when he should be called to the succession. Meantime the tyranny and caprice of Ala-ed-deen had given many of the principal persons about him cause to be apprehensive for their lives, and they resolved to anticipate him. There was a man at Alamoot named Hassan, a native of Mazenderan, who, though no Ismaïlite, was of a vile and profligate character. He was the object of the doating attachment of Ala-ed-deen, and consequently had free and constant access to him. Him they fixed upon as their agent, and they found no difficulty in gaining him. Ala-ed-deen, whose fondness for breeding and tending sheep had never diminished, had built for himself a wooden house close by his sheep-cotes, whither he was wont to retire, and where he indulged himself in all the excesses in which he delighted. Hassan of Mazenderan seized the moment when Ala-ed-deen was lying drunk in this house, and shot him through the neck with an arrow. Rukn-ed-deen, who is said to have been engaged in[Pg 155] the conspiracy, assuming the part of the avenger of blood, the murderer and all his family were put to death, and their bodies committed to the flames; but this act of seeming justice did not free Rukn-ed-deen from suspicion, and the bitter reproaches of his mother were poured forth on him as a parricide.
The imam's release was quicker than he expected. Ala-ed-deen, who had several children, had chosen his eldest, Rukn-ed-deen (Support of Religion), as his successor while he was still a child. As Rukn-ed-deen grew up, people began to respect him as much as they did his father and viewed his commands as equally important. Ala-ed-deen was offended and announced that he would pass the succession to one of his other children, but this directly contradicted an Ismaïlite principle that the first nomination was always the true one, so it was largely ignored. Fearing for his life from his father's threats, Rukn-ed-deen retreated to a strong castle to wait for the time to claim his succession. Meanwhile, Ala-ed-deen's tyranny and unpredictability made many of his close associates anxious for their lives, and they decided to act first. There was a man in Alamoot named Hassan, a native of Mazenderan, who, although not an Ismaïlite, had a disgraceful and immoral character. Ala-ed-deen was infatuated with him, granting him constant access. They chose him as their agent, easily persuading him. Ala-ed-deen, who always loved raising and taking care of sheep, had built a wooden house near his sheepfolds, where he often retreated to indulge in his excesses. Hassan from Mazenderan took the opportunity when Ala-ed-deen was lying drunk in this house and shot him in the neck with an arrow. Rukn-ed-deen, who was said to have been involved in [Pg 155] the conspiracy, took on the role of avenger, leading to the murderer's execution along with his entire family, who were then burned. However, this apparent justice did not free Rukn-ed-deen from suspicion, and his mother harshly condemned him as a parricide.
The termination of the power of the Ismaïlites was now at hand. Rukn-ed-deen had hardly ascended the throne of his murdered father when he learned that an enemy was approaching against whom all attempts at resistance would be vain.
The end of the Ismaïlite power was imminent. Rukn-ed-deen had barely taken the throne from his murdered father when he found out that an enemy was on the way, and any efforts to resist would be pointless.
Chapter 12.
The Mongols—Hoolagoo sent against the Ismaïlites—Rukn-ed-deen submits—Capture of Alamoot—Destruction of the Library—Fate of Rukn-ed-deen—Massacre of the Ismaïlites—St. Louis and the Assassins—Mission for the Conversion of the People of Kuhistan—Conclusion.
Half a century had now elapsed since the voice of the Mongol seer on the banks of the Sélinga had announced to the tribes of that race that he had seen in a vision the Great God sitting on his throne and giving sentence that Temujeen, one of their chiefs, should be Chingis Khan (Great Khan), and the obedient tribes had, under the leading of Temujeen, commenced that career of conquest which extended from the eastern extremity of Asia to the confines of Egypt and of Germany. At this time the chief power over the Mongols was in the hands of Mangoo, the grandson of Chingis, a prince advantageously made known to Europe by the long abode of the celebrated Venetian Marco Polo at his court. The Mongols had not yet invaded Persia, though they had, under Chingis himself, overthrown and stripped of his dominions the powerful sultan of Khaurism. It was however evident that that country could not long escape the fate of so many extensive and powerful states, and that a pretext would soon be found for pouring over it the hordes of the Mongols.
Half a century had passed since the Mongol seer by the Sélinga River told the tribes that he had seen in a vision the Great God sitting on his throne, declaring that Temujeen, one of their leaders, would be Chingis Khan (Great Khan). Following this revelation, the loyal tribes, led by Temujeen, began their campaign of conquest that stretched from the eastern edge of Asia to the borders of Egypt and Germany. At this time, the main power among the Mongols was held by Mangoo, the grandson of Chingis, a ruler well-known in Europe thanks to the long stay of the famous Venetian Marco Polo at his court. The Mongols had yet to invade Persia, although they had already defeated and stripped the powerful sultan of Khaurism of his territories under Chingis. It was clear, however, that Persia would not be able to avoid the fate of many other vast and powerful states for long, and a reason would soon emerge to unleash the Mongol hordes upon it.
We are told, though it seems scarcely credible, that ambassadors came from the Khalif of Bagdad to Nevian, the Mongol general who commanded on the northern frontier of Persia, requiring safe conduct[Pg 157] to the court of Mangoo. The object of their mission was to implore the great khan to send his invincible troops to destroy those pests of society the bands of the Ismaïlites. The prayer of the envoys of the successor of the Prophet was supported by the Judge of Casveen, who happened to be at that time at the court of Mangoo, where he appeared in a coat of mail, to secure himself, as he professed, from the daggers of the Assassins. The khan gave orders to assemble an army; his brother Hoolagoo was appointed to command it, and, as he was setting forth, Mangoo thus addressed him:—
We hear, though it seems hard to believe, that ambassadors came from the Khalif of Bagdad to Nevian, the Mongol general in charge of the northern border of Persia, asking for safe passage[Pg 157] to the court of Mangoo. Their mission was to urge the great khan to send his unbeatable troops to eliminate those societal pests, the bands of the Ismaïlites. The plea from the envoys of the Prophet's successor was backed by the Judge of Casveen, who happened to be at Mangoo's court at that time, wearing a suit of armor to protect himself, as he claimed, from the daggers of the Assassins. The khan ordered an army to be gathered; his brother Hoolagoo was chosen to lead it, and as he was preparing to leave, Mangoo said to him:—
"With heavy cavalry and a mighty host I send thee from Tooran to Iran, the land of mighty princes. It behoves thee now strictly to observe, both in great and in small things, the laws and regulations of Chinghis Khan, and to take possession of the countries from the Oxus to the Nile. Draw closer unto thee by favour and rewards the obedient and the submissive; tread the refractory and the rebellious, with their wives and children, into the dust of contempt and misery. When thou hast done with the Assassins begin the conquest of Irak. If the Khalif of Bagdad comes forward ready to serve thee, thou shalt do him no injury; if he refuses, let him share the fate of the rest."
"With heavy cavalry and a powerful army, I’m sending you from Tooran to Iran, the land of powerful rulers. It’s essential that you carefully follow the laws and regulations of Chinghis Khan, both in major and minor matters, and take control of the regions from the Oxus to the Nile. Win over the loyal and submissive with benefits and rewards; crush the defiant and rebellious along with their families into the dust of disgrace and suffering. Once you’ve dealt with the Assassins, start the conquest of Irak. If the Khalif of Bagdad is willing to serve you, do not harm him; if he refuses, let him meet the same fate as the others."
The army of Hoolagoo was reinforced by a thousand families of Chinese firemen to manage the battering machines and fling the flaming naphtha, known in Europe under the name of Greek fire. He set forward in the month Ramazan of the 651st year of the Hejra (A.D. 1253). His march was so slow that he did not cross the Oxus till two years afterwards. On the farther bank of this river he took the diversion of lion-hunting, but the cold came on so intense that the greater part of his horses perished, and he was obliged to wait for the ensuing[Pg 158] spring before he could advance. All the princes of the menaced countries sent embassies to the Mongol camp announcing their submission and obedience. The head-quarters of Hoolagoo were now in Khorassan, whence he sent envoys to Rukn-ed-deen, the Ismaïlite chief, requiring his submission. By the advice of the astronomer Nasir-ed-deen, who was his counsellor and minister, Rukn-ed-deen sent to Baissoor Noobeen, one of Hoolagoo's generals, who had advanced to Hamadan, declaring his obedience and his wish to live in peace with every one. The Mongol general recommended that, as Hoolagoo himself was approaching, Rukn-ed-deen should wait on him in person. After some delay, the latter agreed to send his brother Shahinshah, who accompanied the son of Baissoor to the quarters of the Mongol prince. Meantime Baissoor, by the orders of Hoolagoo, entered the Ismaïlite territory and drew near to Alamoot. The troops of the Assassins occupied a steep hill near that place. The Mongols attacked them, but were repelled each time they attempted the ascent. Being forced to give over the attack, they contented themselves with burning the houses and ravaging the country round.
The army of Hoolagoo was bolstered by a thousand families of Chinese firefighters to operate the battering machines and launch the burning naphtha, known in Europe as Greek fire. He set out in the month of Ramadan in the 651st year of the Hejra (CE 1253). His march was so slow that he didn’t cross the Oxus until two years later. On the other side of the river, he took up lion-hunting, but the cold was so harsh that most of his horses died, forcing him to wait for the following [Pg 158] spring before he could move on. All the princes of the threatened territories sent envoys to the Mongol camp announcing their submission and loyalty. Hoolagoo's headquarters were now in Khorassan, from where he sent envoys to Rukn-ed-deen, the Ismaïlite leader, demanding his submission. Following the advice of the astronomer Nasir-ed-deen, who was his advisor and minister, Rukn-ed-deen sent word to Baissoor Noobeen, one of Hoolagoo's generals, who had moved to Hamadan, expressing his obedience and his desire to live peacefully with everyone. The Mongol general suggested that since Hoolagoo himself was approaching, Rukn-ed-deen should meet him in person. After some hesitation, Rukn-ed-deen agreed to send his brother Shahinshah, who went along with Baissoor's son to the Mongol prince's camp. Meanwhile, at Hoolagoo's order, Baissoor entered Ismaïlite territory and approached Alamoot. The Assassin troops occupied a steep hill near that location. The Mongols attacked them but were pushed back each time they tried to climb. Forced to abandon the assault, they settled for setting fire to the houses and devastating the surrounding area.
When Shahinshah reached the camp of Hoolagoo and notified the submission of his brother, orders to the following effect were transmitted to the mountain-chief:—"Since Rukn-ed-deen has sent his brother unto us, we forgive him the offences of his father and his followers. He shall himself, as, during his short reign, he has been guilty of no crime, demolish his castles and come to us." Orders were sent at the same time to Baissoor to give over ravaging the district of Roodbar. Rukn-ed-deen began casting down some of the battlements of Alamoot, and at the same time sent to beg the delay of a year before appearing in the presence of Hoolagoo. But the[Pg 159] orders of the Mongol were imperative; he was required to appear at once, and to commit the defence of his territory to the Mongol officer who was the bearer of Hoolagoo's commands. Rukn-ed-deen hesitated. He sent again to make excuses and ask more time; and, as a proof of his obedience, he directed the governors of Kuhistan and Kirdkoh to repair to the Mongol camp. The banners of Hoolagoo were now floating at the foot of Demavend, close to the Ismaïlite territory, and once more orders came to Maimoondees, where Rukn-ed-deen and his family had taken refuge:—"The Ruler of the World is now arrived at Demavend, and it is no longer time to delay. If Rukn-ed-deen wishes to wait a few days he may in the mean time send his son." The affrighted chief declared his readiness to send his son, but, at the persuasion of his women and advisers, instead of his own, he sent the son of a slave, who was of the same age, requesting that his brother might be restored to him. Hoolagoo was soon informed of the imposition, but disdained to notice it otherwise than by sending back the child, saying he was too young, and requiring that his elder brother, if he had one, should be sent in place of Shahinshah. He at the same time dismissed Shahinshah with these words:—"Tell thy brother to demolish Maimoondees and come to me; if he does not come, the eternal God knows the consequences."
When Shahinshah reached Hoolagoo’s camp and reported that his brother had submitted, orders were sent to the mountain chief: “Since Rukn-ed-deen has sent his brother to us, we will forgive the offenses of his father and his followers. He himself, having committed no crimes during his short reign, shall dismantle his castles and come to us.” At the same time, orders were sent to Baissoor to stop ravaging the district of Roodbar. Rukn-ed-deen began to tear down some of the walls of Alamoot but then requested a one-year extension before appearing before Hoolagoo. However, the orders from the Mongol leader were clear; he was to appear immediately and hand over the defense of his territory to the Mongol officer delivering Hoolagoo's commands. Rukn-ed-deen hesitated and sent more requests for excuses and additional time. To show his obedience, he instructed the governors of Kuhistan and Kirdkoh to go to the Mongol camp. The banners of Hoolagoo were now flying at the base of Demavend, near the Ismaïlite territory, and more orders arrived at Maimoondees, where Rukn-ed-deen and his family had taken refuge: “The Ruler of the World has arrived at Demavend, and it’s no longer time to delay. If Rukn-ed-deen wishes to wait a few days, he may send his son in the meantime.” The frightened leader agreed to send his son, but under pressure from his women and advisers, he sent the son of a slave, who was the same age, asking for the return of his brother. Hoolagoo soon learned of the deception but chose to respond only by sending back the child, saying he was too young and demanding that his elder brother, if he had one, be sent instead of Shahinshah. He also dismissed Shahinshah with these words: “Tell your brother to demolish Maimoondees and come to me; if he doesn't come, God knows what the consequences will be.”
The Mongol troops now covered all the hills and valleys, and Hoolagoo in person appeared before Maimoondees. The Assassins fought bravely, but Rukn-ed-deen had not spirit to hold out. He sent his other brother, his son, his vizir Nasir-ed-deen, and the principal persons of the society, bearing rich presents to the Mongol prince. Nasir-ed-deen was directed to magnify the strength of the Ismaïlite fortresses in order to gain good terms for his master;[Pg 160] but, instead of so doing, he told Hoolagoo not to regard them, assuring him that the conjunction of the stars announced the downfall of the Ismaïlites, and that the sun of their power was hastening to its setting. It was agreed that the castle should be surrendered on condition of free egress. Rukn-ed-deen, his ministers, and his friends, entered the Mongol camp on the first day of the month Zoo-l-Kaadeh. His wealth was divided among the Mongol troops. Hoolagoo took compassion on himself, and spoke kindly to him, and treated him as his guest. Nasir-ed-deen became the vizir of the conqueror, who afterwards built for him the observatory of Meragha.
The Mongol troops had now taken over all the hills and valleys, and Hoolagoo himself appeared before Maimoondees. The Assassins fought valiantly, but Rukn-ed-deen lacked the resolve to continue. He sent his other brother, his son, his vizier Nasir-ed-deen, and the key members of the society with valuable gifts to the Mongol prince. Nasir-ed-deen was instructed to emphasize the strength of the Ismaïlite fortresses to secure favorable terms for his master; [Pg 160] however, instead of doing that, he told Hoolagoo not to worry about them, assuring him that the alignment of the stars foretold the downfall of the Ismaïlites and that the sun of their power was quickly setting. They agreed that the castle would be surrendered with the condition of safe passage. Rukn-ed-deen, his ministers, and his friends entered the Mongol camp on the first day of the month Zoo-l-Kaadeh. His wealth was distributed among the Mongol troops. Hoolagoo took pity on him, spoke kindly to him, and treated him like a guest. Nasir-ed-deen became the vizier to the conqueror, who later built him an observatory in Meragha.
Mongol officers were now dispatched to all the castles of the Ismaïlites in Kuhistan, Roodbar, and even in Syria, with orders from Rukn-ed-deen to the governors to surrender or demolish them. The number of these strong castles was upwards of one hundred, of which there were forty demolished in Roodbar alone. Three of the strongest castles in this province, namely, Alamoot, Lamseer, and Kirdkoh, hesitated to submit, their governors replying to the summons that they would wait till Hoolagoo should appear in person before them. In a few days the Mongol prince and his captive were at the foot of Alamoot. Rukn-ed-deen was led under the walls, and he ordered the governor to surrender. His command was disregarded, and Hoolagoo, not to waste time, removed his camp to Lamseer, leaving a corps to blockade Alamoot. The people of Lamseer came forth immediately with their homage, and a few days afterwards envoys arrived from Alamoot entreating Rukn-ed-deen to intercede for the inhabitants with the brother of Mangoo. The conqueror was moderate; he allowed them free egress, and gave them three days to collect and remove their families and property. On the third day the Mongol[Pg 161] troops received permission to enter and plunder the fortress. They rushed, eager for prey, into the hitherto invincible, now deserted, Vulture's Nest, and rifled it of all that remained in it. As they hurried through its subterrane recesses in search of treasure they frequently, to their amazement, found themselves immersed in honey, or swimming in wine; for there were large receptacles of wine, honey, and corn, hewn into the solid rock, the nature of which was such that, though, as we are told, they had been filled in the time of Hassan Sabah, the corn was perfectly sound, and the wine had not soured. This extraordinary circumstance was regarded by the Ismaïlites as a miracle wrought by that founder of their society.
Mongol officers were sent to all the castles of the Ismaïlites in Kuhistan, Roodbar, and even Syria, with orders from Rukn-ed-deen to the governors to either surrender or demolish them. There were over a hundred of these strong castles, and forty were demolished in Roodbar alone. Three of the strongest castles in this province—Alamoot, Lamseer, and Kirdkoh—hesitated to submit, with their governors responding to the summons that they would wait for Hoolagoo to come in person. A few days later, the Mongol prince and his captive arrived at the foot of Alamoot. Rukn-ed-deen was brought under the walls and ordered the governor to surrender. His command was ignored, so Hoolagoo, not wanting to waste time, moved his camp to Lamseer, leaving a force to blockade Alamoot. The people of Lamseer quickly came forward to pledge their loyalty, and a few days later, envoys arrived from Alamoot asking Rukn-ed-deen to intercede with Mangoo’s brother for the inhabitants. The conqueror was lenient; he granted them permission to leave and gave them three days to gather and take their families and property. On the third day, the Mongol troops were allowed to enter and loot the fortress. They rushed eagerly into the once-impenetrable, now-abandoned Vulture's Nest, stripping it of everything left behind. As they searched through its underground passages for treasure, they were often amazed to find themselves surrounded by honey or ankle-deep in wine; there were large containers of wine, honey, and grain carved into the solid rock that, although filled during the time of Hassan Sabah, still contained perfectly sound grain and unspoiled wine. The Ismaïlites viewed this extraordinary situation as a miracle performed by the founder of their society.
When Alamoot fell into the hands of the Mongols Ata-Melek (King's-father) Jowainee, a celebrated vizir and historian, craved permission of Hoolagoo to inspect the celebrated library of that place, which had been founded by Hassan Sabah and increased by his successors, and to select from it such works as might be worthy of a place in that of the khan. The permission was readily granted, and he commenced his survey of the books. But Ata-Melek was too orthodox a Mussulman, or too lazy an examiner, to make the best use of his opportunity; for all he did was to take the short method of selecting the Koran and a few other books which he deemed of value out of the collection, and to commit the remainder, with all the philosophical instruments, to the flames, as being impious and heretical. All the archives of the society were thus destroyed, and our only source of information respecting its doctrines, regulations, and history, is derived from what Ata-Melek has related in his own history as the result of his search among the archives and books of the library of Alamoot, previous to his making an auto da fé of them.
When Alamoot fell into the hands of the Mongols, Ata-Melek (King's-father) Jowainee, a well-known vizier and historian, asked Hoolagoo for permission to check out the famous library there, which had been founded by Hassan Sabah and expanded by his successors, and to pick out any works that might be worthy of the khan’s collection. He was quickly granted permission, and he started going through the books. But Ata-Melek was either too orthodox a Muslim or too lazy to make the best of his chance; all he did was take the easy route, grabbing the Koran and a few other books he thought were valuable from the collection, and burned the rest, along with all the philosophical tools, considering them impious and heretical. This led to the destruction of all the society's archives, and our only source of information about its beliefs, rules, and history comes from what Ata-Melek wrote in his own history based on his search of the Alamoot library’s archives and books before he carried out an auto da fé on them.
The fate of the last of a dynasty, however worthless[Pg 162] and insignificant his character may be, is always interesting from the circumstance alone of his being the last, and thus, as it were, embodying in himself the history of his predecessors. We shall therefore pause to relate the remainder of the story of the feeble Rukn-ed-deen.
The fate of the last member of a dynasty, no matter how worthless[Pg 162] and insignificant his character might be, is always intriguing simply because he is the last one, embodying the history of those who came before him. We will, therefore, take a moment to share the rest of the story of the weak Rukn-ed-deen.
When Hoolagoo, after the conclusion of his campaign against Roodbar, retired to Hamadan, where he had left his children, he took with him Rukn-ed-deen, whom he continued to treat with kindness. Here the Assassin prince became enamoured of a Mongol maiden of the very lowest class. He asked permission of Hoolagoo to espouse her, and, by the directions of that prince, the wedding was celebrated with great solemnity. He next craved to be sent to the court of Mangoo Khan. Hoolagoo, though surprised at this request, acceded to it also, and gave him a corps of Mongols as an escort. He at the same time directed him to order on his way the garrison of Kirdkoh, who still held out, to surrender, and demolish the fortress. Rukn-ed-deen, as he passed by Kirdkoh, did as directed, but sent at the same time a private message to the governor to hold out as long as possible. Arrived at Kara-Kooroom, the residence of the khan, he was not admitted to an audience, but the following message was delivered to him:—"Thus saith Mangoo: Since thou affectest to be obedient to us, wherefore has not the castle of Kirdkoh been delivered up? Go back, and demolish all the castles which remain; then mayest thou be partaker of the honour of viewing our imperial countenance." Rukn-ed-deen was obliged to return, and, soon after he had crossed the Oxus, his escort, making him dismount under pretext of an entertainment, ran him through with their swords.
When Hoolagoo wrapped up his campaign against Roodbar and returned to Hamadan, where his children were, he brought Rukn-ed-deen along and continued to treat him kindly. While there, the Assassin prince fell for a Mongol girl from a very low background. He asked Hoolagoo for permission to marry her, and following the prince's direction, they had a grand wedding. He then requested to be sent to Mangoo Khan’s court. Hoolagoo, taken aback by this request, agreed and provided him with a group of Mongols as an escort. At the same time, he instructed him to order the garrison of Kirdkoh, which was still resisting, to surrender and tear down the fortress. As Rukn-ed-deen passed by Kirdkoh, he followed the orders but also sent a secret message to the governor to hold out as long as he could. Upon reaching Kara-Kooroom, the khan’s residence, he was denied an audience, but a message was sent to him: “Mangoo says: Since you claim to be obedient to us, why hasn’t the castle of Kirdkoh been surrendered? Go back and demolish all remaining castles; then you may have the honor of seeing our imperial face.” Rukn-ed-deen had to turn back, and shortly after crossing the Oxus, his escort tricked him into dismounting under the guise of a celebration and killed him with their swords.
Mangoo Khan was determined to exterminate the whole race of the Ismaïlites, and orders to that effect[Pg 163] had already reached Hoolagoo, who was only waiting to execute them till Kirdkoh should have surrendered. As the garrison of that place continued obstinate, he no longer ventured to delay. Orders for indiscriminate massacre were issued, and 12,000 Ismaïlites soon fell as victims. The process was short; wherever a member of the society was met he was, without any trial, ordered to kneel down, and his head instantly rolled on the ground. Hoolagoo sent one of his vizirs to Casveen, where the family of Rukn-ed-deen were residing, and the whole of them were put to death, except two (females it is said), who were reserved to glut the vengeance of the princess Boolghan Khaloon, whose father Jagatai had perished by the daggers of the Assassins.
Mangoo Khan was determined to wipe out the entire Ismaïlite race, and orders to that effect[Pg 163] had already reached Hoolagoo, who was just waiting to carry them out until Kirdkoh surrendered. Since the garrison there continued to be stubborn, he no longer hesitated to act. Orders for a mass slaughter were issued, and soon 12,000 Ismaïlites were killed. The process was quick; whenever a member of the society was found, he was ordered to kneel without any trial, and his head was swiftly severed. Hoolagoo sent one of his viziers to Casveen, where the family of Rukn-ed-deen lived, and they were all executed, except for two females, who were said to be saved to satisfy the revenge of Princess Boolghan Khaloon, whose father, Jagatai, had been killed by the daggers of the Assassins.
The siege of Kirdkoh was committed by Hoolagoo (who was now on his march to Bagdad to put an end to the empire of the khalifs) to the princes of Mazenderân and Ruyan. The castle held out for three years, and the siege was rendered remarkable by the following curious occurrence:—It was in the beginning of the spring when a poet named Koorbee of Ruyan came to the camp. He began to sing, in the dialect of Taberistan, a celebrated popular song of the spring, beginning with these lines:—
The siege of Kirdkoh was carried out by Hoolagoo (who was now on his way to Baghdad to end the caliph's empire) against the princes of Mazenderân and Ruyan. The castle resisted for three years, and the siege became notable due to a curious event: at the start of spring, a poet named Koorbee from Ruyan arrived at the camp. He began to sing, in the dialect of Taberistan, a famous springtime song that started with these lines:—
Spring's flag flies proudly in the morning breeze.[66]
The song awoke in the minds of princes and soldiers the recollection of the vernal delights they had left behind them; an invincible longing after them seized the whole army; and, without reflecting on the consequences, they broke up the siege, and set forth to enjoy the season of flowers in the fragrant gardens of Mazenderân. Hoolagoo was greatly incensed when he heard of their conduct, and sent a body of troops against them, but forgave them on their making due apologies and submissions.
The song reminded the princes and soldiers of the springtime joys they had left behind; a powerful craving for those memories overwhelmed the entire army. Without considering the consequences, they abandoned the siege and marched off to enjoy the blooming season in the fragrant gardens of Mazenderân. Hoolagoo was furious when he found out what they had done and sent troops after them, but he eventually forgave them after they offered sincere apologies and submitted.
The Ismaïlite power in Persia was now completely at an end; the khalifat, whose destruction had been its great object, was also involved in its ruin, and the power of the Mongols established over the whole of Irân. The Mongol troops failed in their attempts on the Ismaïlite castles in Syria; but, at the end of fourteen years, what they could not effect was achieved by the great Beibars, the Circassian Mamlook sultan of Egypt, who reduced all the strongholds of the Assassins in the Syrian mountains, and extinguished their power in that region.
The Ismaïlite power in Persia was now completely finished; the khalifat, which had been its main target, also fell along with it, and the Mongols established their dominance over all of Iran. The Mongol forces struggled to take the Ismaïlite castles in Syria; however, after fourteen years, what they couldn't accomplish was achieved by the great Beibars, the Circassian Mamluk sultan of Egypt, who conquered all the strongholds of the Assassins in the Syrian mountains and eliminated their power in that area.
The last intercourse of the Assassins with the western Christians which we read of was that with St. Louis. William of Nangis relates—but the tale is evidently apocryphal—that in the year 1250 two of the Arsacidæ were sent to France to murder that prince, who was then only twenty-two years of age. The Senex de Monte however repented, and sent others to warn the French monarch. These arriving in time, the former were discovered, on which the[Pg 165] king loaded them all with presents, and dismissed them with rich gifts for their master.
The last interaction of the Assassins with the Western Christians that we know of was with St. Louis. William of Nangis recounts—but the story is clearly fictional—that in 1250, two members of the Arsacidæ were sent to France to assassinate the prince, who was only twenty-two years old at the time. However, the Senex de Monte had a change of heart and sent others to warn the French king. These messengers arrived just in time, leading to the discovery of the original assassins, after which the[Pg 165] king rewarded them all with gifts and sent them away with lavish presents for their leader.
Rejecting this idle legend, we may safely credit the account of Joinville, that in 1250, when St. Louis was residing at Acre, after his captivity in Egypt, he was waited on by an embassy from the Old Man of the Mountain, the object of which was to procure, through his means, a remission of the tribute which he paid to the Templars and the Hospitallers. As if to obviate the answer which might naturally be made, the ambassador said that his master considered that it would be quite useless to sacrifice the lives of his people by murdering the masters of these orders, as men as good as they would be immediately appointed to succeed them. It being then morning, the king desired them to return in the evening. When they appeared again, he had with him the masters of the Temple and the Hospital, who, on the propositions being repeated, declared them to be most extravagant, and assured the ambassadors that, were it not for the sacredness of their character, and their regard for the word of the king, they would fling them into the sea. They were directed to go back, and to bring within fifteen days a satisfactory letter to the king. They departed, and, returning at the appointed time, said to the king that their chief, as the highest mark of friendship, had sent him his own shirt and his gold ring. They also brought him draught and chess-boards, adorned with amber, an elephant and a giraffe (orafle) of crystal. The king, not to be outdone in generosity, sent an embassy to Massyat with presents of scarlet robes, gold cups, and silver vases, for the Ismaïlite chief.
Rejecting this idle legend, we can trust the account of Joinville, which states that in 1250, when St. Louis was in Acre after his captivity in Egypt, he was approached by an embassy from the Old Man of the Mountain. Their goal was to get him to help them get rid of the tribute they owed to the Templars and the Hospitallers. To preempt any possible objections, the ambassador claimed that his master believed it would be pointless to sacrifice the lives of his people by killing the leaders of these orders, as equally good men would quickly take their place. Since it was morning, the king asked them to come back later that evening. When they returned, he had the masters of the Temple and the Hospital with him. Upon hearing the ambassadors' proposals, the masters declared them completely outrageous and assured the ambassadors that, if it weren't for their sacred position and their respect for the king's word, they would have thrown them into the sea. They were instructed to go back and bring a satisfactory letter to the king within fifteen days. After that time, they returned and told the king that their leader, as a sign of deep friendship, had sent him his own shirt and gold ring. They also brought him draft and chess boards decorated with amber, an elephant, and a giraffe (orafle) made of crystal. The king, wanting to match this show of generosity, sent an embassy to Massyat with gifts of scarlet robes, gold cups, and silver vases for the Ismaïlite chief.
Speculative tenets will continue and be propagated long after the sect or society which holds them may have lost all temporal influence and consideration. Accordingly, seventy years after the destruction of[Pg 166] Alamoot, in the reign of Aboo-Zeid, the eighth successor of Hoolagoo, it was found that nearly all the people of Kuhistan were devoted to the Ismaïlite opinions. The monarch, who was an orthodox Soonnee, advised with the governor of the province, and it was resolved to send a mission, composed of learned and zealous divines, for the conversion of the heretics. At the head of the mission was placed the pious and orthodox sheikh Emad-ed-deen of Bokhara; the other members of it were the sheikh's two sons and four other learned ulemas (Doctors of law), in all seven persons. Full of enthusiasm and zeal for the good cause which they had in hand, the missionaries set forth. They arrived at Kaïn, the chief place of the province, and found with grief and indignation none of the ordinary testimonies of Moslem devotion. The mosks were in ruins, no morning or evening call to prayer was to be heard, no school or hospital was to be seen. Emad-ed-deen resolved to commence his mission by the solemn call to prayer. Adopting the precaution of arraying themselves in armour, he and his companions ascended the terrace of the castle, and all at once from its different sides shouted forth, "Say God is great! There is no god but God, and Mohammed is his prophet. Up to prayer; to good works!" The inhabitants, to whom these sounds were unusual and offensive, ran together, determined to bestow the crown of martyrdom on the missionaries; but these good men, whose zeal was of a prudent complexion, did not, though armed, abide the encounter. They took refuge in an aqueduct, where they concealed themselves till the people had dispersed, when they came forth once more, ascended the terrace, and gave the call to prayer. The people collected again, and again the missionaries sought their retreat. By perseverance, however, and the powerful support of the governor of the province, they[Pg 167] gradually accustomed the ears of the people to the forms of orthodoxy. Many years afterwards sultan Shahrokh, the son of Timoor, resolved to send a commission to ascertain the state of religion in Kohistan. At the head of it he placed Jelalee of Kaïn, the grandson of Emad-ed-deen, a man of learning and talent and a distinguished writer. Jelalee deemed himself especially selected by heaven for this purpose, as his grandsire had headed the former mission, and the Prophet had appeared to himself in a dream, and given to him a broom to sweep the land, which he interpreted to be a commission to sweep away the impurity of infidelity out of the country. He therefore entered on his office with joy, and, after a peregrination of eleven months, reported favourably of the faith of the people of Kohistan, with the exception of some dervishes and others, who were addicted to Soofeeism.
Speculative beliefs will continue to exist and spread long after the group or society that holds them has lost all influence and respect. Accordingly, seventy years after the destruction of[Pg 166] Alamoot, during the reign of Aboo-Zeid, the eighth successor of Hoolagoo, it was found that nearly all the people of Kuhistan were devoted to Ismaïlite beliefs. The king, who was an orthodox Sunni, consulted with the governor of the province, and it was decided to send a mission made up of learned and passionate scholars to convert the heretics. Leading the mission was the devout and orthodox Sheikh Emad-ed-deen of Bokhara; accompanying him were his two sons and four other knowledgeable ulemas (Doctors of Law), making a total of seven people. Filled with enthusiasm and a commitment to their cause, the missionaries set off. They arrived in Kaïn, the main town of the province, and were saddened and angered to find none of the usual expressions of Muslim devotion. The mosques were in ruins, there was no morning or evening call to prayer, and there were no schools or hospitals in sight. Emad-ed-deen decided to start his mission with a formal call to prayer. Taking the precaution of wearing armor, he and his companions climbed to the terrace of the castle and simultaneously shouted from its sides, "Say God is great! There is no god but God, and Mohammed is his prophet. Come to prayer; do good works!" The locals, to whom these sounds were strange and unwelcome, gathered together, ready to bestow the crown of martyrdom on the missionaries; however, these good men, whose zeal was tempered with caution, did not, despite their armor, stay for the confrontation. They took refuge in an aqueduct, hiding until the crowd dispersed, before emerging once again, climbing the terrace, and calling for prayer. The crowd gathered once more, and once again the missionaries sought refuge. Through persistence and strong support from the governor of the province, they[Pg 167] gradually got the people used to the principles of orthodoxy. Many years later, Sultan Shahrokh, the son of Timoor, decided to send a commission to assess the state of religion in Kohistan. He appointed Jelalee of Kaïn, the grandson of Emad-ed-deen, a knowledgeable and talented man as well as a distinguished writer, to lead it. Jelalee felt especially chosen by heaven for this task, since his grandfather had led the earlier mission, and the Prophet had appeared to him in a dream, giving him a broom to sweep the land, which he took as a command to rid the country of infidelity. With joy, he began his mission and, after traveling for eleven months, reported favorably on the faith of the people of Kohistan, except for some dervishes and others who were inclined towards Soofeeism.
At the present day, nearly six centuries after the destruction of the Ismaïlite power, the sect is still in existence both in Persia and in Syria. But, like that of the Anabaptists, it has lost its terrors, and the Ismaïlite doctrine is now merely one of the speculative heresies of Islam. The Syrian Ismaïlites dwell in eighteen villages around Massyat, and pay an annual sum of 16,500 piastres to the governor of Hama, who nominates their sheikh or emir. They are divided into two sects or parties, the Sooweidanee, so named from one of their former sheikhs, and the Khisrewee, so called on account of their great reverence for Khiser, the guardian of the Well of Life. They are all externally rigid observers of the precepts of Islam, but they are said to believe in the divinity of Ali, in the uncreated light as the origin of all things, and in the sheikh Rasheed-eddeen Sinan as the last representative of God upon earth.
Today, nearly six centuries after the downfall of the Ismaïlite power, the sect still exists in both Persia and Syria. However, like the Anabaptists, it has lost its power, and the Ismaïlite doctrine is now just one of the speculative heresies within Islam. The Syrian Ismaïlites live in eighteen villages around Massyat and pay an annual fee of 16,500 piastres to the governor of Hama, who appoints their sheikh or emir. They are split into two groups, the Sooweidanee, named after one of their past sheikhs, and the Khisrewee, named for their deep respect for Khiser, the guardian of the Well of Life. They strictly adhere to the practices of Islam on the outside, but it's said that they believe in the divinity of Ali, in the uncreated light as the source of all things, and in the sheikh Rasheed-eddeen Sinan as the last representative of God on earth.
The Persian Ismaïlites dwell chiefly in Roodbar,[Pg 168] but they are to be met all over the east, and even appear as traders on the banks of the Ganges. Their imam, whose pedigree they trace up to Ismaïl, the son of Jaaffer-es-Sadik, resides, under the protection of the Shah of Persia, at the village of Khekh, in the district of Koom. As, according to their doctrine, he is an incarnate ray of the Divinity, they hold him in the utmost veneration, and make pilgrimages from the most distant places to obtain his blessing.
The Persian Ismaïlites mainly live in Roodbar,[Pg 168] but you can find them throughout the east, even trading along the banks of the Ganges. Their imam, who they believe is directly descended from Ismaïl, the son of Jaaffer-es-Sadik, lives, under the protection of the Shah of Persia, in the village of Khekh, in the Koom district. According to their beliefs, he is a living embodiment of the divine, so they hold him in great reverence and travel from far and wide to seek his blessing.
We have thus traced the origin, the growth, and the decline of this formidable society, only to be paralleled by that of the Jesuits in extent of power and unity of plan and purpose. Unlike this last, however, its object was purely evil, and its career was one of blood: it has therefore left no deeds to which its apologists might appeal in its defence. Its history, notwithstanding, will always form a curious and instructive chapter in that of the human race.
We have therefore followed the origin, the rise, and the fall of this powerful society, which can only be compared to the Jesuits in terms of power and a unified plan and purpose. However, unlike the Jesuits, its goal was entirely malevolent, and its path was marked by violence: it has left behind no actions that its defenders could use to justify it. Nevertheless, its history will always be an interesting and educational chapter in the story of humanity.
THE TEMPLARS.
Chapter 1.
Introduction—The Crusades—Wrong Ideas respecting their Origin—True Causes of them—Pilgrimage—Pilgrimage of Frotmond—Of the Count of Anjou—Striking Difference between the Christianity of the East and that of the West—Causes of their different Characters—Feudalism—The Extent and Force of this Principle.
Among the many extraordinary phenomena which the middle ages present, none is more deserving of attention, or more characteristic of the times and the state of society and opinion, than the institution of the religio-military orders of the Hospitallers, the Templars, and the Teutonic Knights. Of these orders, all of which owed their origin to the Crusades, and commenced in the 12th century, the last, after the final loss of the Holy Land, transferring the scene of their activity to the north of Germany, and directing their arms against the heathens who still occupied the south coast of the Baltic, became the founders, in a great measure, of the Prussian power; while the first, planting their standard on the Isle of Rhodes, long gallantly withstood the forces of the Ottoman Turks, and, when at length obliged to resign that island, took their station on the rock of Malta, where they bravely repelled the troops of the greatest of the Ottoman sultans, and maintained at least a nominal independence till the close of the 18th[Pg 170] century. A less glorious fate attended the Knights of the Temple. They became the victims of the unprincipled rapacity of a merciless prince; their property was seized and confiscated; their noblest members perished in the flames; their memory was traduced and maligned; the foulest crimes were laid to their charge; and a secret doctrine, subversive of social tranquillity and national independence, was asserted to have animated their councils. Though many able defenders of these injured knights have arisen, the charges against them have been reiterated even in the present day; and a distinguished Orientalist (Von Hammer) has recently even attempted to bring forward additional and novel proofs of their secret guilt.[67] To add one more to the number of their defenders, to trace the origin, develope the internal constitution of their society, narrate their actions, examine the history of their condemnation and suppression, and show how absurd and frivolous were the charges against them, are the objects of the present writer, who, though he is persuaded, and hopes to prove, that they held no secret doctrine, yet places them among the secret societies of the middle ages, because it is by many confidently maintained that they were such.
Among the many extraordinary events of the Middle Ages, none is more noteworthy or more emblematic of the era and its societal and intellectual climate than the creation of the religious-military orders like the Hospitallers, the Templars, and the Teutonic Knights. These orders originated from the Crusades and began in the 12th century. The Teutonic Knights, after losing the Holy Land, shifted their focus to northern Germany and fought against the pagans still living along the southern Baltic coast, playing a significant role in establishing the Prussian state. Meanwhile, the Hospitallers set up their base on the Isle of Rhodes, where they valiantly resisted the forces of the Ottoman Turks. Eventually, when they had to give up Rhodes, they moved to the rock of Malta, where they bravely fought off the armies of one of the most powerful Ottoman sultans and maintained at least nominal independence until the end of the 18th century. The Knights Templar, however, faced a much less favorable fate. They became victims of a ruthless prince's greed; their assets were seized and confiscated, many of their most honorable members died in flames, their legacy was slandered, the worst crimes were accused against them, and a supposed secret doctrine that undermined social order and national sovereignty was claimed to have driven their actions. Although many skilled defenders of these wronged knights have emerged, the accusations against them continue to be repeated even today, with a well-known Orientalist (Von Hammer) recently attempting to present new and unfamiliar evidence of their alleged wrongdoing. To add to their defenders, the current writer aims to explore their origins, detail the internal structure of their order, recount their deeds, examine the history of their condemnation and suppression, and demonstrate how ridiculous and trivial the accusations against them were. While the writer believes and hopes to prove that they held no secret doctrine, he includes them among the secret societies of the Middle Ages, as many confidently assert that they were.
As the society of the Templars was indebted for its origin to the Crusades, we will, before entering on our narrative, endeavour to correct some erroneous notions respecting the causes and nature of these celebrated expeditions.
As the Templar society owes its beginnings to the Crusades, we will, before starting our story, try to clarify some misconceptions about the reasons and nature of these famous campaigns.
The opinion of the Crusades having been an emanation[Pg 171] of the spirit of chivalry is one of the most erroneous that can be conceived, yet it is one most widely spread. Romancers, and those who write history as if it were romance, exert all their power to keep up the illusion, and the very sound of the word Crusade conjures up in most minds the ideas of waving plumes, gaudy surcoats, emblazoned shields, with lady's love, knightly honour, and courteous feats of arms. A vast deal of this perversion of truth is no doubt to be ascribed to the illustrious writer of the splendid epic whose subject is the first Crusade. Tasso, who, living at the time when the last faint gleam of expiring chivalry was fitfully glowing through the moral and political gloom which was overspreading the former abodes of freedom and industry in Italy, may be excused if, young and unversed in the philosophy of history, he mistook the character of European society six centuries before his time, or deemed himself at liberty to minister to the taste of a court which loved the fancied image of former times, and stimulate it to a generous emulation by representing the heroes of the first Crusade as animated with the spirit and the virtues of the ideal chivalry. But the same excuse is not to be made for those who, writing at the present day, confound chivalry and the Crusades, give an epitome of the history of the latter under the title of that of the former, and venture to assert that the valiant Tancred was the beau ideal of chivalry, and that the "Talisman" contains a faithful picture of the spirit and character of the Crusades.[68]
The idea that the Crusades were an expression of the spirit of chivalry is one of the most misguided notions out there, yet it’s one that's widely believed. Storytellers and those who write history like it’s a story work hard to keep this illusion alive, and just hearing the word “Crusade” brings to mind images of flowing feathers, colorful coats, decorated shields, along with themes of romantic love, knightly honor, and noble acts of bravery. A lot of this distorted view of the truth likely stems from the famous writer of the beautiful epic about the first Crusade. Tasso, who lived during the time when the last flickers of fading chivalry were sporadically shining through the moral and political darkness engulfing what were once the free and industrious lands of Italy, can be forgiven if, being young and inexperienced in understanding history, he misrepresented European society from six centuries earlier or felt free to cater to a court that adored the imagined glory of the past and inspired it to aspire generously by portraying the heroes of the first Crusade as filled with the ideals and virtues of chivalry. However, the same excuse doesn’t apply to those writing today who mix up chivalry and the Crusades, summarize the history of the latter as if it were the history of the former, and claim that the brave Tancred was the ideal knight and that the "Talisman" gives an accurate depiction of the spirit and character of the Crusades.[68]
We venture to assert that the Crusades did not originate in chivalry, and that the first Crusade, the most important of them, and that which gave the tone and character to all the succeeding ones, does not present a single vestige of what is usually understood by the term chivalry, not a trace of what the imagination rather than the knowledge of Burke described as embodying "the generous loyalty to rank and sex, the proud submission, the dignified obedience, and that subordination of the heart which kept alive, even in servitude itself, the spirit of an exalted freedom—that sensibility of principle, that chastity of honour, which felt a stain like a wound, which inspired courage whilst it mitigated ferocity, which ennobled whatever it touched, and under which vice itself lost half its evil by losing all its grossness." Little surely does he know of the 11th century and its spirit who can suppose any part of the foregoing description to apply to those who marched in arms to Asia to free the sepulchre of Christ; slightly must he have perused the Gesta Tancredi of Radulphus Cadomens, who can conceive that gallant warrior, as he undoubtedly was, to have been the mirror of chivalry.
We dare to say that the Crusades did not stem from chivalry and that the first Crusade, which was the most significant one and set the tone and character for all the others, shows no signs of what we typically think of as chivalry. There’s not even a hint of what Burke imagined when he described it as embodying "the generous loyalty to rank and sex, the proud submission, the dignified obedience, and the subordination of the heart that maintained, even in servitude, the spirit of an exalted freedom—that sense of principle, that honor that felt a stain like a wound, that inspired courage while softening ferocity, that ennobled everything it touched, and under which even vice lost half its evil by shedding its grossness." Anyone who thinks any part of that description applies to those who marched in arms to Asia to liberate Christ's tomb clearly knows little about the spirit of the 11th century; they must have barely skimmed the Gesta Tancredi by Radulphus Cadomens to imagine that brave warrior—although he undoubtedly was—reflecting chivalry.
Chivalry and the Crusades commenced in the same century, and drew their origin from the same source. One was not the cause of the other, but both were effects of the same cause, and that cause was feudalism. This inculcated "the proud submission, the dignified obedience," &c., &c., which were gradually idealised into chivalry; it impressed on the mind of the vassal those principles of regard to the rights and property of his lord which seemed to justify and sanction the Holy War. Previously, however, to explaining the manner in which this motive acted, we must stop to notice another concurring cause of the Crusades, without[Pg 173] which it would perhaps never have begun to operate.
Chivalry and the Crusades started in the same century and came from the same source. One didn’t cause the other, but both were results of the same cause, which was feudalism. This instilled "the proud submission, the dignified obedience," etc., etc., which were gradually idealized into chivalry; it impressed upon the vassal the principles of respecting the rights and property of his lord that seemed to justify and support the Holy War. However, before we explain how this motive acted, we need to acknowledge another contributing cause of the Crusades, without[Pg 173] which it might never have begun to operate.
Man has at all periods been led by a strong impulse of his nature to visit those spots which have been distinguished as the scenes of great and celebrated actions, or the abode of distinguished personages. The operation of this natural feeling is still stronger when it is combined with religion, and there arises a conviction that the object of his worship is gratified by this act of attention, and his favour thereby secured to the votary. Hence we find pilgrimage, or the practice of taking distant journeys to celebrated temples, and other places of devotion, to have prevailed in all ages of the world. In the most remote periods of the mythic history of Greece, where historic truth is not to be sought, and only manners and modes of thinking are to be discerned, we constantly meet the theoria, or pilgrimage to Delphi, mentioned in the history of the heroes, whence we may with certainty collect that it formed at all times a portion of the manners of the Greeks. India, at the present day, witnesses annually the pilgrimage of myriads to the temple of Juggernaut, and Jerusalem has been for thousands of years the resort of pious Israelites.
Throughout history, people have always felt a strong urge to visit places known for significant events or where notable individuals lived. This natural instinct is even stronger when combined with religious beliefs, as there’s a feeling that worshiping at these sites pleases the deity and secures their favor for the worshiper. This is why we see pilgrimage, or the practice of traveling to famous temples and other sacred locations, has been common in all eras. In ancient Greek mythology, where we can’t find historical truths but can discern cultural attitudes and thoughts, the theoria, or pilgrimage to Delphi, is frequently mentioned in tales of heroes, indicating that it was always a part of Greek customs. Today, India sees millions who make the pilgrimage to the temple of Juggernaut every year, and for thousands of years, Jerusalem has been a place of pilgrimage for devout Israelites.
The country which had witnessed the life and death of their Lord naturally acquired importance in the eyes of the early Christians, many of whom, moreover, were Jews by birth, and had always viewed Jerusalem with feelings of veneration. All, too, confounded—as has unfortunately been too much the case in later times—the old and the new law, and saw not that the former was but "beggarly elements" in comparison with the latter, and deemed that the political and economical precepts designed for a single nation, inhabiting one small region, were obligatory on the church of Christ, which was intended to comprise the whole human race. Many of the practices[Pg 174] of Judaism were therefore observed by the Christians, and to this principle we are perhaps in a great measure to ascribe the rapid progress of the practice, and the belief in the efficacy, of pilgrimage to the Holy City.
The country that had seen the life and death of their Lord naturally gained significance in the eyes of early Christians, many of whom were Jews by birth and had always looked upon Jerusalem with reverence. They often confused—the way it unfortunately happens too often in later times—the old and new laws, not realizing that the former were just "beggarly elements" compared to the latter. They believed that the political and economic rules meant for a single nation living in a small area were mandatory for the church of Christ, which was meant to include all of humanity. As a result, many of the practices[Pg 174] of Judaism were followed by Christians, and this principle likely contributed significantly to the quick spread of the practice and belief in the importance of pilgrimage to the Holy City.
The abuses of pilgrimage were early discerned, and some of the more pious Fathers of the Church preached and wrote against the practice. But piety and eloquence were vain, and could little avail to stem the torrent when men believed that the waters of Jordan had efficacy to wash every sin, though unattended by sincere repentance. The Church, as she advanced in corruption, improved in worldly wisdom, and, taking pilgrimage under her protection, made it a part of her penal discipline. The sinner was now ordered a journey to the Holy Land as a means of freeing his soul from the guilt of his perhaps manifold enormities. Each year saw the number of the pilgrims augment, while the growing veneration for relics, of which those which came from the Holy Land were esteemed the most efficacious, stimulated pilgrimage by adding the incentive of profit, as a small stock of money laid out in the purchase of the generally counterfeit relics always on sale at Jerusalem would produce perhaps a thousand per cent. on the return of the pilgrim to his native country. A pilgrim was also held in respect and veneration wherever he came, as an especial favourite of the Divinity, having been admitted by him to the high privilege of visiting the sacred places, a portion of whose sanctity it would be supposed might still adhere to him.
The problems with pilgrimage were recognized early on, and some of the more devout Church Fathers preached and wrote against the practice. However, their piety and eloquence were ineffective in stopping the flood of people who believed that the waters of Jordan could wash away every sin, even without genuine repentance. As the Church became more corrupt, it also became more savvy, and by putting pilgrimage under its protection, it incorporated it into its system of discipline. Sinners were now required to make a journey to the Holy Land as a way to cleanse their souls of their many sins. Each year, the number of pilgrims grew, and the increasing veneration for relics—especially those from the Holy Land, which were considered the most powerful—encouraged more people to embark on pilgrimages as they offered the chance for profit. A small investment in the purchase of the usually fake relics sold in Jerusalem could yield enormous returns when the pilgrim returned home. Pilgrims were also respected and revered wherever they went, seen as favorites of the Divine for having the special privilege of visiting sacred sites, which it was believed might still impart some of their holiness to them.
The 11th century was the great season of pilgrimage. A strange misconception of the meaning of a portion of Scripture had led men to fancy that the year 1000 was to be that of the advent of Christ, to judge the world. As the valley of Jehoshaphat was[Pg 175] believed to be the spot on which this awful event would take place, the same feeling which leads people at the present day to lay a flattering unction to their souls by supposing that death-bed repentance will prove equivalent in the sight of God to a life passed in obedience to his will and in the exercise of virtue, impelled numbers to journey to the Holy Land, in the belief that this officiousness, as it were, of hitherto negligent servants would be well taken by their Lord, and procure them an indulgent hearing before his judgment-seat. Pilgrimage, therefore, increased greatly; the failure of their expectations, the appointed time having passed away without the Son of Man coming in the clouds of Heaven, gave it no check, but, on the contrary, rather an additional impulse; and during this century the caravans of pilgrims attained to such magnitude and strength as to be deserving of the appellation of The armies of the Lord—precursive of the first and greatest Crusade.
The 11th century was the peak of pilgrimage. A strange misunderstanding of a part of Scripture led people to believe that the year 1000 would be when Christ returned to judge the world. Since the valley of Jehoshaphat was[Pg 175] thought to be the place where this significant event would happen, a similar mindset that we see today—where people comfort themselves with the idea that a last-minute repentance before death would be equal to a life lived in obedience and virtue—drove many to travel to the Holy Land. They believed that this effort, almost like a last-minute favor from previously negligent servants, would be seen positively by their Lord and would earn them mercy before His judgment. As a result, pilgrimage grew rapidly; the disappointment of their expectations—the deadline passing without the Son of Man appearing in the clouds—did not diminish this; instead, it fueled it even more. During this century, the number of pilgrims grew to such an extent that they were referred to as The armies of the Lord, setting the stage for the first and greatest Crusade.
In truth the belief in the merit and even the obligation of a pilgrimage, to Jerusalem, in the sight of God, was now as firmly impressed on the mind of every Christian, be his rank what it might, as that of the necessity and advantage of one to the Kaaba of Mecca is in the apprehension of the followers of Mohammed; and in the degraded state of the human intellect at that period a pilgrimage was deemed adequate to the removal of all sin. As a proof of this we shall narrate the pilgrimages of two distinguished personages of those times. The first occurred in the 9th, the second in the 11th century.
In reality, the belief in the value and even the necessity of making a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, in the eyes of God, was strongly held by every Christian, regardless of their status, just as the followers of Mohammed see the pilgrimage to the Kaaba in Mecca as essential and beneficial. During that time, when human understanding was significantly limited, a pilgrimage was considered sufficient to wipe away all sins. To illustrate this, we will recount the pilgrimages of two notable figures from that era. The first took place in the 9th century, and the second in the 11th century.
In the reign of Lothaire, son of Louis the Debonnaire, a nobleman of Brittany, named Frotmond, who had murdered his uncle and his youngest brother, began to feel remorse for his crimes. Arrayed in the habit of a penitent, he presented himself before the monarch and an assembly of his prelates, and made confession[Pg 176] of his guilty deeds. The king and bishops had him straitly bound in chains of iron, and then commanded him, in expiation of his guilt, to set forth for the East, and visit all the holy places, clad in hair-cloth, and his forehead marked with ashes. Accompanied by his servants and the partners of his crime, the Breton lord directed his course to Palestine, which he reached in safety. Having, in obedience to the mandates of his sovereign and of the church, visited all the holy places, he crossed the Arabian desert, which had been the scene of the wanderings of Israel, and entered Egypt. He thence traversed a part of Africa, and went as far as Carthage, whence he sailed for Rome. Here the Pope, on being consulted, advised him to make a second pilgrimage, in order to complete his penance, and obtain the perfect remission of his sins. Frotmond accordingly set forth once more, and having performed the requisite duties at the Holy City, proceeded to the shore of the Red Sea, and there took up his abode for three years on Mount Sinai, after which time he made a journey to Armenia, and visited the mountain on which the ark of Noah had rested. His crimes being now, according to the ideas of those times, expiated, he returned to his native country, where he was received as a saint, and taking up his abode in the convent of Redon, passed there the remainder of his days, and died deeply regretted by his brethren.[69]
During the reign of Lothaire, son of Louis the Debonnaire, a nobleman from Brittany named Frotmond, who had killed his uncle and younger brother, began to feel guilty about his actions. Dressed as a penitent, he appeared before the king and a gathering of church leaders and confessed his sins[Pg 176]. The king and bishops had him tightly bound in iron chains and ordered him to travel east, visit all the holy places, wear hair-cloth, and mark his forehead with ashes as a way to atone for his guilt. Accompanied by his servants and those who had shared in his crimes, the Breton lord made his way to Palestine, which he reached safely. Following the directives of his king and the church, he visited all the holy sites, crossed the Arabian desert—where Israel had wandered—and entered Egypt. He then traveled through part of Africa, reaching Carthage, from where he sailed to Rome. When he consulted the Pope, he was advised to undertake a second pilgrimage to complete his penance and fully absolve his sins. Frotmond set out again and after fulfilling the necessary rites in the Holy City, he went to the shores of the Red Sea, where he lived on Mount Sinai for three years. After that, he journeyed to Armenia to visit the mountain where Noah's ark had rested. By now, his crimes were seen as atoned for according to the beliefs of that time, so he returned to his homeland, where he was welcomed as a saint. He settled in the convent of Redon and spent the rest of his days there, passing away deeply mourned by his fellow brethren.[69]
Fulk de Nerra, Count of Anjou, had spilt much innocent blood; he had had his first wife burnt alive, and forced his second wife to seek refuge from his barbarity in the Holy Land. The public odium pursued him, and conscience asserting her rights presented to his disturbed imagination the forms of those who had perished by him issuing from their tombs, and reproaching him with his crimes. Anxious to[Pg 177] escape from his invisible tormentors, the count put on him the habit of a pilgrim, and set forth for Palestine. The tempests which he encountered in the Syrian seas seemed to his guilty soul the instruments of divine vengeance, and augmented the fervour of his repentance. Having reached Jerusalem in safety, he set heartily about the work of penance. He traversed the streets of the Holy City with a cord about his neck, and beaten with rods by his servants, while he repeated these words, Lord, have mercy on a faithless and perjured Christian, on a sinner wandering far from his home. During his abode in Jerusalem he gave abundant alms, relieving the wants of the pilgrims, and leaving numerous monuments of his piety and munificence.
Fulk de Nerra, Count of Anjou, had spilled a lot of innocent blood; he had his first wife burned alive and forced his second wife to flee from his cruelty to the Holy Land. The public scorn followed him, and his conscience made him imagine the faces of those he had wronged rising from their graves to accuse him of his sins. Eager to escape from his invisible tormentors, the count disguised himself as a pilgrim and set off for Palestine. The storms he faced in the Syrian seas felt to his guilty heart like instruments of divine punishment and deepened his sense of remorse. Having safely reached Jerusalem, he earnestly began his penance. He walked through the streets of the Holy City with a cord around his neck, beaten with rods by his servants, while he repeated these words, Lord, have mercy on a faithless and perjured Christian, on a sinner wandering far from his home. During his time in Jerusalem, he gave generously to charity, helping the needs of the pilgrims and leaving behind many signs of his devotion and generosity.
Deep as was the penitence of the Count of Anjou, it did not stand in the way of the exercise of a little pious fraud. By an ingenious device he deceived the impious malignity of the profane Saracens, who would have made him defile the holy sepulchre; and the chroniclers tell us that as he lay prostrate before the sacred tomb he contrived to detach from it a precious stone, which he carried back with him to the West. On his return to his duchy he built, at the castle of Loches, a church after the model of that of the Resurrection at Jerusalem, and here he every day implored with tears the divine forgiveness. His mind, however, could not yet rest; he was still haunted by the same horrid images; and he once more visited the Holy Land, and edified the faithful by the austerity of his penance. Returning home by the way of Italy, he delivered the supreme pontiff from a formidable enemy who was ravaging his territory, and the grateful pope conferred on him in return the full absolution of all his sins. Fulk brought with him to Anjou a great quantity of relics, with which he adorned the churches of Loches and Angers; and his[Pg 178] chief occupation thenceforward was the building of towns and monasteries, whence he acquired the name of The Great Builder. His people, who blessed heaven for his conversion, honoured and loved him; the guilt of his sins had been removed by the means which were then deemed of sovereign efficacy; yet still the monitor placed by God in the human breast, and which in a noble mind no power can reduce to perfect silence, did not rest; and the Holy Land beheld, for the third time, the Count of Anjou watering the sepulchre of Christ with his tears, and groaning afresh over his transgressions. He quitted Jerusalem for the last time, recommending his soul to the prayers of the pious brethren whose office it was to receive the pilgrims, and turned his face homewards. But Anjou he was never more to behold; death surprised him at Metz. His body was transferred to Loches, and buried in his church of the Holy Sepulchre.
Deep as the Count of Anjou’s remorse was, it didn’t stop him from pulling off a little act of pious deception. With a clever trick, he outsmarted the wicked intentions of the irreverent Saracens, who had intended for him to desecrate the holy sepulchre; chroniclers tell us that while he lay down in front of the sacred tomb, he managed to take a precious stone from it, which he brought back with him to the West. Upon returning to his duchy, he constructed a church at the castle of Loches modeled after the Resurrection Church in Jerusalem, where he daily sought divine forgiveness with tears. However, his mind was still troubled; he was still haunted by the same terrible visions, and he visited the Holy Land again, inspiring the faithful with the severity of his penance. On his way back through Italy, he freed the supreme pontiff from a powerful enemy who was invading his territory, and in gratitude, the pope granted him full absolution for all his sins. Fulk returned to Anjou with a large number of relics to adorn the churches of Loches and Angers; from then on, his main focus was on building towns and monasteries, earning him the title of The Great Builder. His people, who thanked heaven for his conversion, respected and loved him; the weight of his sins had been lifted through what was considered to be the most effective means at the time; yet the conscience that God places in the human heart, which no power can completely silence in a noble mind, continued to bother him. For the third time, the Count of Anjou went to the Holy Land, weeping over the sepulchre of Christ and mourning for his wrongdoings. He left Jerusalem for the last time, entrusting his soul to the prayers of the devoted brethren whose duty was to welcome the pilgrims, and turned his face homeward. But he was never to see Anjou again; death caught up with him at Metz. His body was taken to Loches and buried in his church of the Holy Sepulchre.
These instances may suffice to show what the opinion of the efficacy and merit of pilgrimage to the Holy Land was at the time of which we write. We here find convincing proof that in the minds of princes and prelates, the highest and most enlightened order of society, it was confidently believed to avail to remove the guilt of crimes of the deepest die. And let not any one say that the clergy took advantage of the ignorance of the people, and made it the instrument of extending their own power and influence; for such an assertion would evince ignorance both of human nature in general and of the temper and conduct of the Romish hierarchy at that, and we might almost say at all periods of its existence. However profligate the lives of many of the clergy may have been, they never called in question the truth of the dogmas of their religion. Even the great and daring Gregory VII., in the midst of what appear to us his arrogant and almost impious assumptions, never for a[Pg 179] moment doubted of the course which he was pursuing being the right one, and agreeable to heaven. The clergy, as well as the laity, were firmly persuaded of the efficacy of pilgrimage, and in both the persuasion was naturally stronger in proportion to the ignorance of the believer. We accordingly find that vast numbers of all ranks, and both sexes, clergy as well as laity, annually repaired to the tomb of Christ.
These examples may be enough to show what people thought about the effectiveness and value of pilgrimage to the Holy Land during this time. We have clear evidence that among princes and church leaders, the most educated and influential members of society, there was a strong belief that it could erase the guilt of the worst crimes. And no one should claim that the clergy exploited the people's ignorance to extend their own power and influence; such a claim would reflect a misunderstanding of human nature in general and the behavior of the Roman Catholic hierarchy then, and we might say throughout its entire history. Even if many clergy led questionable lives, they never questioned the truths of their faith. Even the ambitious Gregory VII, despite what we might see as his arrogant and almost blasphemous ideas, never doubted for a moment that what he was doing was right and in line with divine will. Both clergy and laypeople were firmly convinced of the effectiveness of pilgrimage, and this belief was naturally stronger among the less educated. As a result, we see large numbers of people from all walks of life, both men and women, clergy and laity, making annual trips to the tomb of Christ.
It remains to be explained what the principle was which gave origin to the idea of the right and justice of recovering the Holy Land, which was now in the hands of the fanatic Turks, instead of those of the tolerant Saracens. This cause was, as we have above asserted, the feudal spirit, that is, the spirit of the age, and not that emanation of it termed chivalry.
It still needs to be clarified what principle led to the belief in the right and justice of reclaiming the Holy Land, which was now controlled by the fanatic Turks instead of the more tolerant Saracens. As we previously mentioned, this reasoning was rooted in the feudal spirit, reflecting the attitudes of the time, rather than in what is called chivalry.
Religion, whatever its original nature and character, will always take a tinge from the manners and temper of those who adopt it. Nothing can be more illustrative of the truth of this observation than the history of the Christian religion. Any one who opens the Gospel, and reads it without preconception or prejudice, cannot fail at once to recognise the rational and fervent piety, the active benevolence, the pure morality, the noble freedom from the trammels of the world, joined with the zealous discharge of all the social duties, which every page of it inculcates. Yet we find this religion in the East degenerating into abject grovelling superstition and metaphysical quibbling, pursued with all the rancour of the odium theologicum, while in the West it assumed a fiery fanatic character, and deemed the sword an instrument of conversion superior to reason and argument. This difference, apparently so strange, arose from the difference of the social state and political institutions of the people of the East and of the West at the time when they embraced Christianity.
Religion, regardless of its original nature and character, will always reflect the attitudes and behaviors of those who embrace it. A great example of this is the history of Christianity. Anyone who opens the Gospel and reads it without bias or prejudice can't help but see the rational and passionate devotion, the active kindness, the strong morals, and the remarkable freedom from worldly constraints, all combined with a dedicated approach to social responsibilities that is emphasized on every page. However, we observe that in the East, this religion has deteriorated into extreme superstition and pointless philosophical arguments, pursued with all the hostility of the odium theologicum, while in the West, it took on a fervent fanaticism, considering the sword a more effective tool for conversion than reason and discussion. This seemingly strange difference stemmed from the varying social conditions and political systems of the Eastern and Western peoples at the time they adopted Christianity.
The free spirit had long since fled from Greece[Pg 180] when the first Christian missionaries preached the faith among its people. But the temper of the Greek was still lively, and his reasoning powers acute. Moreover, he had still the same leaning towards a sensible and material religion which has at all times distinguished him, and the increasing despotism of the empire depressed and enfeebled more and more every day the martial spirit which he had displayed in the days of his freedom. No field remained for his mental activity but that of philosophy and religion. The former, which had long been his delight, he had contrived to subtilize into an almost unintelligible mysticism; and in this form it speedily spread its infection through his new faith, which was besides further metamorphosed and changed in character by an infusion from the dualistic system of Persia. Meantime the ascetic spirit which had come from the East joined with the timidity engendered by the pressure of despotism to make him mistake the spirit of the Gospel, and convert Christianity into a crouching cowardly superstition. When the emperor Nicephorus Phocas sought to infuse a martial and fanatic spirit into his subjects, and to rouse them to vigorous exertion against the Saracens, his bishops replied to his exhortations by citing a canon of St. Basil, which directed that he who had slain an enemy in battle should abstain during three years from participation in the holy sacraments. The priest of a little town in Cilicia was engaged one day in saying mass when a band of Saracens burst in, and began to plunder the town. Without waiting to take off his sacerdotal vestments, he seized the hammer, which in the churches of the East frequently serves the purpose of a bell, and, flying among the infidels, plied his weapon to such effect that he forced them to a precipitate flight, and saved the town. What was the reward of the gallant priest? He was censured by his[Pg 181] diocesan, interdicted the exercise of his ghostly functions, and so ill-treated in other respects, that he flung off his robes and joined the Saracens, whose more martial and energetic creed accorded better with his manly sentiments. When the pilgrims of the first Crusade began to arrive in such terrific numbers at Constantinople, the Greek emperor and his subjects could hardly persuade themselves of the possibility of religion being the actuating cause of such a portentous movement—so little did religion and deeds of arms accord in their minds!
The free spirit had long been absent from Greece[Pg 180] when the first Christian missionaries shared their faith with the people. However, the Greek still had a lively temperament and sharp reasoning skills. He maintained his inclination towards a practical and tangible religion, which had always set him apart. Yet, the growing tyranny of the empire gradually dampened and weakened the martial spirit he had shown in his days of freedom. The only area left for his mental engagement was philosophy and religion. The former, once a source of joy, had become so convoluted that it was nearly incomprehensible; this complexity quickly spread to his new faith, which was further altered by influences from the dualistic beliefs of Persia. At the same time, the ascetic mindset from the East, combined with the fear instilled by tyranny, made him misinterpret the essence of the Gospel, transforming Christianity into a submissive and cowardly superstition. When Emperor Nicephorus Phocas tried to instill a fighting and fanatical spirit in his subjects, urging them to take action against the Saracens, his bishops responded to his calls by referencing a canon from St. Basil that stated anyone who killed an enemy in battle should refrain from the holy sacraments for three years. One day, a priest in a small Cilician town was saying mass when a group of Saracens broke in and began looting. Without taking off his priestly garments, he grabbed the hammer used as a bell in Eastern churches and ran toward the invaders, using it so effectively that he drove them away and saved the town. What was the reward for the brave priest? He was reprimanded by his[Pg 181] diocesan, banned from performing his duties, and treated so poorly that he discarded his robes and joined the Saracens, whose more energetic and martial beliefs aligned better with his manly sentiments. When the pilgrims of the First Crusade began arriving in overwhelming numbers at Constantinople, the Greek emperor and his people could hardly fathom that religion could be the driving force behind such a huge movement—so little did they associate religion with acts of warfare!
But with the nations of the West the case was different. In these the ruling portion, that which gave tone to the whole, were of the Gothic and Germanic races, whose hardy bands had dashed to pieces the worn-out fabric of the Western empire. Worshippers in their native forests of Thor and Odin, and the other deities of Valhalla, who admitted none but the valiant dead to share in the celestial pork and mead which each day crowned the board in their lucid abode, their manners, their sentiments, their whole being was martial, and they infused this spirit into the religion which they adopted from their Roman subjects. In making this change in its tone they derived aid from the Jewish portion of the sacred volume, which has been in all ages abused, by men ignorant of its character and original use, to purposes of fanaticism and persecution; and the religion of Christian Europe, from the fifth century downwards, became of a martial and conquering character. By the sword Charlemagne converted the pagan Saxons; his successors employed the sword against the heathen Vends; and by fire and sword Olof Triggva-son spread Christianity throughout the North. In former times this mode of conversion had been in a great degree foreign to the Western church; and persuasion had[Pg 182] been chiefly employed in the dissemination of the faith among the heathen nations.
But the situation was different with the nations of the West. Here, the ruling class, which set the tone for everything, was made up of the Gothic and Germanic peoples, whose strong warriors had shattered the crumbling structure of the Western Empire. They were devoted followers of Thor and Odin, along with other deities of Valhalla, who only allowed the brave dead to partake in the celestial feasts of pork and mead that filled their heavenly home each day. Their behavior, beliefs, and entire essence were martial, and they infused this warrior spirit into the religion they adopted from their Roman subjects. In shifting its character, they drew support from the Jewish parts of the holy texts, which have often been misused throughout history by those who did not understand their true nature and purpose, leading to fanaticism and persecution; thus, the Christianity of Europe from the fifth century onward became characterized by martial conquest. Charlemagne converted the pagan Saxons by the sword; his successors used the sword against the pagan Vends; and Olof Triggva-son spread Christianity throughout the North using fire and sword. In earlier times, this method of conversion was largely foreign to the Western church, where persuasion had[Pg 182] been primarily used to spread the faith among pagan nations.
The religion of the West we thus see was martial; but this spirit alone would not have sufficed to produce the Crusade which was to interest and appear as a duty to all orders of men. Here the feudal principle came into operation, and gave the requisite impulse.
The religion of the West was clearly martial; however, this spirit alone wouldn't have been enough to create the Crusade that engaged and seemed like a duty to all social classes. This is where the feudal principle played a role and provided the necessary motivation.
In the 11th century the feudal system was completely developed in France and Germany, and the modes of thinking, speaking, and acting derived from it pervaded all the relations of life. From the top to the bottom of society the mutual obligations of lords and vassals were recognised and acted upon, and each vassal deemed it a most sacred duty to defend by arms the honour and property of his superior lord. There was also a kind of supreme temporal chief of the Christian world acknowledged in the person of the Emperor of Germany, who was viewed as the successor of Charlemagne, and the representative of the Roman emperors. The feudal ideas extended even to the hierarchy, which now put forth such exorbitant claims to supremacy over the temporal power. The head of the church was an acknowledged vicegerent of Him who was styled in scripture Lord of all the kingdoms of the earth. Jesus Christ was, therefore, the apex of the pyramid of feudal society; he was the great suzerain and lord paramount of all princes and peoples, and all were equally under obligation to defend his rights and honour. Such were evidently the sentiments of the age.
In the 11th century, the feudal system was fully established in France and Germany, and its ways of thinking, speaking, and acting influenced all aspects of life. Throughout society, the mutual obligations of lords and vassals were recognized and upheld, with each vassal considering it a sacred duty to defend the honor and property of their lord by force if necessary. There was also a recognized supreme secular leader of the Christian world in the Emperor of Germany, seen as the successor of Charlemagne and the representative of the Roman emperors. Feudal ideas even reached the church hierarchy, which began to make significant claims of authority over temporal power. The head of the church was regarded as a vicegerent of the one referred to in scripture as Lord of all the kingdoms of the earth. Thus, Jesus Christ was at the top of the feudal society pyramid; he was the ultimate overlord of all princes and peoples, and everyone was equally obliged to defend his rights and honor. This clearly reflected the sentiments of the time.
It is hardly necessary to remind the reader that the religion of the period which we treat of was of a gross and material character, and that the passions and infirmities of human nature were freely bestowed on the glorified Son of God. He was deemed to take a peculiar interest in the spot of land where he[Pg 183] had sojourned when on earth, and more especially in the tomb in which his body had been deposited, and with grief and indignation to see them in the hands of those who contemptuously derided his divinity, and treated with insult and cruelty those of his faithful vassals who underwent the toils and dangers of a distant journey to offer their homage at his tomb. Nothing could, therefore, be more grateful to his feelings than to behold the sacred soil of Palestine free from heathen pollution, and occupied and defended by his faithful vassals, and no true son of the church could hesitate a moment to believe that it was his bounden duty to arm himself in the cause of his lord, and help to reinstate him in his heritage. Here, then, without having recourse to the romantic principle of chivalry, we have an adequate solution of the phenomenon of the first Crusade. Here we have a motive calculated to operate on the minds of all orders, equally effectual with men of piety, virtue, and wealth, like Godfrey of Bouillon and Stephen of Chartres, who looked for no temporal advantages, as with the meanest and most superstitious of the vassals and serfs who might be supposed to have only sought a refuge from misery and oppression by assuming the cross. We would not by any means be supposed to deny that many other causes and motives were in operation at the same time; but this we deem the grand one. This was the motive which gave dignity to and hallowed all others, and which affected the mind of every Crusader, be his rank or station in society what it might.
It's hardly necessary to remind the reader that the religion of the time we’re discussing was quite crude and materialistic, and that the emotions and weaknesses of human nature were openly projected onto the glorified Son of God. He was believed to take a special interest in the piece of land where he[Pg 183] had lived during his time on earth, particularly in the tomb where his body had been laid to rest, grieving and feeling angry to see it in the control of those who mockingly rejected his divinity and treated his devoted followers—who made the difficult journey to pay their respects at his tomb—with disrespect and cruelty. Therefore, nothing could be more fulfilling for him than to see the sacred land of Palestine free from pagan corruption and occupied and defended by his loyal followers; no true member of the church could hesitate even for a moment to believe that it was his duty to take a stand for his lord and help reclaim his heritage. Thus, without relying on the romantic idea of chivalry, we find a clear explanation for the phenomenon of the first Crusade. Here we have a motivation that influenced individuals across all social classes, impacting the pious, virtuous, and wealthy like Godfrey of Bouillon and Stephen of Chartres, who sought no material benefits, as well as the most humble and superstitious vassals and serfs who might have only looked for an escape from suffering and oppression by taking up the cross. We do not deny that many other causes and motivations were also at play, but we believe this to be the principal one. This was the motivation that lent dignity to and sanctified all others, affecting every Crusader, regardless of their rank or place in society.
Pilgrimage then was esteemed a duty, and a powerful mean of removing guilt and appeasing the wrath of the Almighty; the spirit of the age was martial, and its religion, tinged by the ancient system of the North of Europe, was of the same character; the feudal principle was in its vigour, and extended even[Pg 184] to the relations of man with the deity; the rude and barbarous Turks had usurped the heritage, the very crown-lands, as we may say, of Jesus Christ, and insulted his servants, whose duty it plainly was to punish them, and free the tomb of their lord;—the natural result of such a state of circumstances and opinion was the first Crusade.
Pilgrimage was seen as a duty and a powerful way to erase guilt and calm the anger of God; the spirit of the time was martial, and its religion, influenced by the ancient beliefs of Northern Europe, reflected that character. The feudal principle was strong and even extended to the relationship between humans and the divine; the crude and barbaric Turks had taken over the heritage, the very sacred lands of Jesus Christ, and disrespected his followers, whose responsibility it clearly was to punish them and liberate the tomb of their lord. The natural outcome of such circumstances and beliefs was the first Crusade.
Chapter 2.
First Hospital at Jerusalem—Church of Santa Maria de Latina—Hospital of St. John—The Hospitallers—Origin of the Templars—Their original Poverty—They acquire Consideration—St. Bernard—His Character of the Templars—The Order approved of and confirmed by the Council of Troyes—Proofs of the Esteem in which they were held.
In consequence of the resort of pilgrims and traders from the West to Jerusalem it had been found necessary to build there, with the consent of the Saracens, hospitia, or places of entertainment for them during their abode in the holy city. For they could not, consistently with the religious animosity which prevailed between them and the Moslems, seek the hospitality of these last, and the Christians of the Greek church who dwelt in the Holy City, besides that they had no very friendly feeling towards their Catholic brethren, were loth to admit them into their houses, on account of the imprudent language and indecorous acts in which they were too frequently in the habit of indulging, and which were so likely to compromise their hosts with their Saracen lords. Accordingly the monk Bernard, who visited Jerusalem in the year 870, found there, in the valley of Jehoshaphat, near the church of the Holy Virgin, a hospital consisting of twelve mansions, for western pilgrims, which was in the possession of some gardens, vineyards, and corn-fields. It had also a good collection of books, the gift of Charlemagne. There was a market held in front of it, which was much resorted to, and every[Pg 186] dealer paid two pieces of gold to the overseer for permission to have a stand there.
Due to the influx of pilgrims and traders from the West to Jerusalem, it became necessary to build, with the consent of the Saracens, hospitia, or places for them to stay during their time in the holy city. They couldn’t, given the existing religious hostility between them and the Muslims, seek hospitality from the latter. The Christians of the Greek church living in the Holy City were also not very welcoming to their Catholic counterparts, as they disapproved of their often reckless remarks and inappropriate behavior, which could put their hosts in a difficult position with their Saracen rulers. Consequently, the monk Bernard, who visited Jerusalem in the year 870, discovered a hospital in the valley of Jehoshaphat, near the church of the Holy Virgin, that had twelve lodgings for Western pilgrims and included some gardens, vineyards, and cornfields. It also had a good collection of books, a gift from Charlemagne. There was a market in front of it that was quite popular, and every dealer paid two gold pieces to the overseer for the right to set up a stall there.
In the 11th century, when the ardour of pilgrimage was inflamed anew, there was a hospital within the walls of Jerusalem for the use of the Latin pilgrims, which had been erected by Italian traders, chiefly of Amalfi. Near this hospital, and within a stone's cast of the church of the Holy Sepulchre, they erected, with the permission of the Egyptian khalif, a church dedicated to the Holy Virgin, which was usually called Sta. Maria de Latina. In this hospital abode an abbot and a good number of monks, who were of the Latin church, and followed the rule of St. Benedict. They devoted themselves to the reception and entertainment of pilgrims, and gave alms to those who were poor, or had been rifled by robbers, to enable them to pay the tax required by the Moslems for permission to visit the holy places. When the number of the pilgrims became so great that the hospital was incapable of receiving them all, the monks raised another hospitium close by their church, with a chapel dedicated to a canonized patriarch of Alexandria, named St. John Eleëmon, or the Compassionate. This new hospital had no income of its own; the monks and the pilgrims whom they received derived their support from the bounty of the abbot of the convent of the Holy Virgin, or from the alms of pious Christians.
In the 11th century, when the passion for pilgrimage was reignited, there was a hospital within the walls of Jerusalem for Latin pilgrims, established by Italian traders, mainly from Amalfi. Near this hospital, and just a stone's throw from the church of the Holy Sepulchre, they built, with the permission of the Egyptian caliph, a church dedicated to the Holy Virgin, commonly known as Sta. Maria de Latina. This hospital was home to an abbot and a number of monks from the Latin church who followed the rule of St. Benedict. They dedicated themselves to welcoming and hosting pilgrims and provided charity to those who were poor or had been robbed, helping them to pay the tax required by the Muslims to visit the holy places. When the number of pilgrims grew so large that the hospital could no longer accommodate them all, the monks constructed another hospitium near their church, with a chapel dedicated to a canonized patriarch of Alexandria, St. John Eleëmon, or the Compassionate. This new hospital had no income of its own; the monks and the pilgrims they welcomed depended on the generosity of the abbot of the convent of the Holy Virgin or the donations from devout Christians.
At the time when the army of the crusaders appeared before the walls of Jerusalem the Hospital of St. John was presided over by Gerard, a native of Provence, a man of great uprightness and of exemplary piety. His benevolence was of a truly Christian character, and far transcended that of his age in general; for during the period of the siege he relieved all who applied to him for succour, and not merely did the schismatic Greek share his bounty,[Pg 187] even the unbelieving Moslem was not repelled when he implored his aid. When the city was taken, numbers of the wounded pilgrims were received, and their wounds tended in the hospital of St. John, and the pious Duke Godfrey, on visiting them some days afterwards, heard nothing but the praises of the good Gerard and his monks.
When the army of the crusaders arrived at the walls of Jerusalem, the Hospital of St. John was led by Gerard, a native of Provence, known for his great integrity and exemplary piety. His kindness was genuinely Christian and far greater than that of most people of his time; during the siege, he helped everyone who asked for assistance, and not only did the schismatic Greek benefit from his generosity, but even the non-believing Moslem was welcomed when he sought help. After the city was captured, many wounded pilgrims were taken in, and their injuries were treated at the hospital of St. John. The devout Duke Godfrey, visiting them several days later, heard only praises for the good Gerard and his monks.
Emboldened by the universal favour which they enjoyed, Gerard and his companions expressed their wish to separate themselves from the monastery of Sta. Maria de Latina, and pursue their works of charity alone and independently. Their desire met no opposition: they drew up a rule for themselves, to which they made a vow of obedience in presence of the patriarch, and assumed as their dress a black mantle with a white cross on the breast. The humility of these Hospitallers was extreme. They styled the poor and the sick their lords and themselves their servants; to them they were liberal and compassionate, to themselves rigid and austere. The finest flour went to compose the food which they gave to the sick and poor; what remained after they were satisfied, mingled with clay, was the repast of the monks.
Encouraged by the widespread support they received, Gerard and his companions expressed their desire to break away from the monastery of Sta. Maria de Latina and carry out their charitable work on their own. They faced no opposition to their wish: they created a set of rules for themselves, took a vow of obedience in front of the patriarch, and adopted a black robe with a white cross on the chest as their uniform. The humility of these Hospitallers was remarkable. They considered the poor and sick their lords and referred to themselves as their servants; they were generous and compassionate to those in need, while being strict and severe with themselves. The best flour was used to prepare meals for the sick and poor; whatever was left over, mixed with clay, was the meal for the monks.
As long as the brotherhood were poor they continued in obedience to the abbot of Sta. Maria de Latina, and also paid tithes to the patriarch. But a tide of wealth soon began to flow in upon them. Duke Godfrey, enamoured of their virtue, bestowed on them his lordship of Montboire, in Brabant, with all its appurtenances; and his brother and successor, Baldwin, gave them a share of all the booty taken from the infidels. These examples were followed by other Christian princes; so that within the space of a very few years the Hospital of St. John was in possession of numerous manors both in the East and in Europe, which were placed under the management[Pg 188] of members of their society. The Hospitallers now coveted a total remission of all the burdens to which they were subject, and they found no difficulty in obtaining all that they desired. Pope Paschal II., in the year 1113, confirmed their rule, gave them permission, on the death of Gerard, to elect their own head, without the interference of any temporal or spiritual power whatever, freed them from the obligation of paying tithes to the patriarch, and confirmed all the donations made or to be made to them. The brotherhood of the Hospital was now greatly advanced in consideration, and reckoned among its members many gallant knights, who laid aside their arms, and devoted themselves to the humble office of ministering to the sick and needy.
As long as the brotherhood was poor, they continued to follow the abbot of Sta. Maria de Latina and also paid tithes to the patriarch. But soon, a wave of wealth began to come in. Duke Godfrey, impressed by their virtue, granted them his lordship of Montboire in Brabant, along with all its rights and assets; and his brother and successor, Baldwin, shared with them a portion of all the loot taken from the infidels. Other Christian princes followed suit; within just a few years, the Hospital of St. John had gained control of numerous estates in both the East and Europe, which were managed[Pg 188] by members of their group. The Hospitallers now wanted complete relief from all the obligations they faced, and they easily achieved everything they wanted. In 1113, Pope Paschal II confirmed their rules, allowed them to elect their own head upon Gerard's death without any interference from temporal or spiritual authorities, freed them from paying tithes to the patriarch, and confirmed all donations made or to be made to them. The brotherhood of the Hospital was now highly respected and included many brave knights, who set aside their weapons to dedicate themselves to caring for the sick and needy.
The worthy Gerard died in the same year with King Baldwin I. (1118), and Raymond Dupuy, a knight of Dauphiné, who had become a brother of the order, was unanimously elected to succeed him in his office. Raymond, who was a man of great vigour and capacity, drew up a series of rules for the direction of the society, adapted to its present state of consequence and extent. From these rules it appears that the order of St. John admitted both the clergy and the laity among its members, and that both were alike bound to yield the most implicit obedience to the commands of their superior. Whether Raymond had any ulterior views is uncertain, but in the regulations which he made we cannot discern any traces of the spirit which afterwards animated the order of St. John.
The esteemed Gerard passed away in the same year as King Baldwin I (1118), and Raymond Dupuy, a knight from Dauphiné who had joined the order, was unanimously chosen to replace him. Raymond, a man of great energy and ability, created a set of rules to guide the society, suited to its current significance and size. From these rules, it’s clear that the order of St. John accepted both clergy and laypeople as members, and both were equally required to obey their superiors without question. It's unclear if Raymond had any hidden intentions, but in the regulations he established, we can't see any signs of the spirit that later characterized the order of St. John.
Just, however, as Raymond had completed his regulations there sprang up a new society, with different maxims, whose example that of St. John found itself afterwards obliged to adopt and follow. The Holy Land was at that time in a very disturbed and unquiet state; the Egyptian power pressed it on the[Pg 189] south, the Turkish on the north and east; the Arab tribes indulged in their usual predatory habits, and infested it with hostile incursions; the Mussulman inhabitants were still numerous; the Syrian Christians were ill affected towards the Latins, from whom they frequently experienced the grossest ill-treatment; the Latins were few and scattered. Hence the pilgrim was exposed to numerous dangers; peril beset him on his way from the port at which he landed to the Holy City, and new perils awaited him when he visited the banks of the Jordan, or went to pluck his branch of consecrated palm in the gardens of Jericho. Many a pilgrim had lost his life on these occasions.
Just as Raymond finished his regulations, a new society emerged with different principles, which St. John's example later felt compelled to adopt and follow. At that time, the Holy Land was very troubled and unstable; Egyptian forces were pressing from the south, while Turkish troops threatened from the north and east. The Arab tribes engaged in their usual raiding behavior, making hostile incursions; there were still many Muslim inhabitants, and the Syrian Christians held a grudge against the Latins, who often treated them poorly. The Latins were few and scattered. As a result, pilgrims faced multiple dangers; peril surrounded them on their journey from the port where they landed to the Holy City, and new dangers awaited when they visited the banks of the Jordan or went to gather their branch of consecrated palm in the gardens of Jericho. Many pilgrims lost their lives in these situations.
Viewing these evils, nine valiant and pious knights resolved to form themselves into an association which should unite the characters of the monk and the knight, by devoting themselves to a life of chastity and piety at the tomb of the Saviour, and by employing their swords in the protection of the pilgrims on their visits to the holy places. They selected as their patroness the sweet Mother of God (La doce Mère de Dieu), and their resolution, according so perfectly with the spirit of the Crusades, which combined piety and valour, gained at once the warm approbation of the king and the patriarch. In the presence of the latter they took the three ordinary vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience, and a fourth of fighting incessantly in the cause of pilgrims and the Holy Land against the heathen. They bound themselves to live according to the rule of the canons of St. Augustine, and elected as their first master Hugh de Payens. The king, Baldwin II., assigned them a portion of his palace for their abode, and he and his barons contributed to their support. As the palace stood close by the church and convent of the Temple, the abbot and canons gave them a street leading from it to the palace, for keeping their magazines and equipments[Pg 190] in, and hence they styled themselves the Soldiery of the Temple (Militia Templi), and Templars. They attracted such immediate consideration, owing in great part, no doubt, to the novelty of their plan, that the very year after their establishment (1120), Fulk, Count of Anjou, who was come on pilgrimage to Jerusalem, joined their society as a married brother, and on his return home annually remitted them thirty pounds of silver in furtherance of their pious objects, and the example of the Count of Anjou was followed by several other princes and nobles of the West.
Seeing these troubles, nine brave and devout knights decided to form a group that combined the qualities of a monk and a knight. They dedicated themselves to a life of purity and faith at the tomb of the Savior, using their swords to protect pilgrims visiting holy sites. They chose the sweet Mother of God (La doce Mère de Dieu) as their patroness, and their resolution, perfectly aligning with the spirit of the Crusades that blended faith and courage, quickly gained the enthusiastic approval of the king and the patriarch. In front of the latter, they took the usual three vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience, along with a fourth vow to fight continuously for the cause of pilgrims and the Holy Land against non-believers. They committed to living according to the rule of the canons of St. Augustine and elected Hugh de Payens as their first master. King Baldwin II allocated them part of his palace for their residence, and he and his barons supported them financially. Since the palace was located close to the church and convent of the Temple, the abbot and canons provided them with a road leading from the convent to the palace for storing their supplies and equipment[Pg 190], and thus they called themselves the Soldiers of the Temple (Militia Templi) and Templars. They quickly gained attention, largely due to the uniqueness of their mission, that the very next year (1120), Fulk, Count of Anjou, who was on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, joined them as a married brother. He then sent them thirty pounds of silver annually to support their holy work, and the Count of Anjou's example was followed by several other princes and nobles from the West.
The English historian, Brompton, who wrote in the 12th century, asserts that the founders of the order of the Temple had originally been members of that of St. John. We know not what degree of credit this may be entitled to[70], but it is certain that there had been as yet nothing of a military character in this last, and that its assumption of such a character was an imitation of the society of the Temple; for, urged by the praise which they saw lavished on the Templars for their meritorious conduct, the Hospitallers resolved to add the task of protecting to that of tending and relieving pilgrims, and such of their members as were knights resumed their arms, joyful to employ them once more in the cause of God. The amplitude of their revenues enabled them to take a number of knights and footmen into their pay—a practice in which they had probably been preceded by the Templars, who thus employed the money which was remitted to them from Europe. But during the lifetime of Raymond Dupuy the order of the Hospital did not become completely a military one; he always[Pg 191] bore the simple title of director (procurator) of the Hospital, and it was not till some time afterwards that the head of the society was, like that of the Templars, styled master, and led its troops to battle. At all times the tendence of the poor and the sick formed a part of the duties of the brethren of the Hospital, and this was always a marked distinction between them and the rival order of the Temple, whose only task was that of fighting against the infidels.
The English historian Brompton, who wrote in the 12th century, claims that the founders of the Order of the Temple were originally members of the Order of St. John. We can't know how much credit this deserves[70], but it's clear that there was nothing military about the latter at that time, and its shift to a military role was inspired by the Templars. Seeing the praise the Templars received for their brave actions, the Hospitallers decided to take on the responsibility of protection in addition to caring for and helping pilgrims. Those among their members who were knights happily took up arms again for the cause of God. Their substantial income allowed them to hire many knights and foot soldiers—something the Templars had likely already started doing with the funds sent to them from Europe. However, during Raymond Dupuy's lifetime, the Order of the Hospital didn’t fully transition to a military order; he always held the simple title of director (procurator) of the Hospital. It wasn't until later that the leader of the society, like the Templars' leader, was referred to as master and led troops into battle. Caring for the poor and sick was consistently part of the brethren's responsibilities, which was a clear distinction between them and the rival Order of the Temple, whose sole focus was fighting against the infidels.

During the first nine years which elapsed after the institution of their order the knights of the Temple lived in poverty, religiously devoting all the money which was sent to them from Europe to the advantage of the Holy Land, and the service of pilgrims. They had no peculiar habit, their raiment was such as the[Pg 192] charity of the faithful bestowed upon them; and though knights, and engaged in constant warfare against the infidels, their poverty and moderation were such that Hugh des Payens and his companion, Godfrey, of St. Omer, had but one war-horse between them—a circumstance which they afterwards, in their brilliant period, commemorated by their seal, which represented two knights mounted on the one horse, a device chosen with a view to inculcating humility on the brethren, now beginning to wax haughty and insolent.
During the first nine years after their order was established, the knights of the Temple lived in poverty, devoting all the money sent to them from Europe to the benefit of the Holy Land and the service of pilgrims. They didn’t have a specific uniform; their clothing came from the charity of the faithful. Even though they were knights and constantly fighting against the infidels, their poverty and self-restraint were such that Hugh des Payens and his companion, Godfrey of St. Omer, shared just one war-horse between them—a fact they later commemorated in their prominent period with their seal, which depicted two knights on a single horse, a symbol selected to teach humility to the brethren, who were starting to become proud and arrogant.
A chief cause of the extraordinary success of the first Crusaders had been the want of union among their enemies. The Saracens and Turks mutually hated each other, and would not combine for a common object, and the Turks were, moreover, at enmity among themselves, and one prince frequently allied himself with the Christians against another. But they were now beginning to perceive the necessity of union, and were becoming every day more formidable to their Christian neighbours. King Baldwin II., who had been a prisoner in their hands, made every effort when he had obtained his freedom to strengthen his kingdom, and, among other means for this purpose, he resolved to gain for the Templars, whose valour, humility, and single-mindedness were the theme of general applause, additional consideration, by obtaining from the Holy Father the confirmation of their order. With this view he despatched, in the year 1127, two of their members, named Andreas and Gundemar, to Rome, with this request to the Pope, to whom they were also to make a strong representation of the perilous state of the Holy Land. The king, moreover, furnished them with a letter of recommendation to St. Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, whose influence was then all-powerful in the Christian world, and who was nephew of the envoy Andreas.[Pg 193] Shortly afterwards Hugh de Payens himself arrived in Europe with five others of the brethren.
A main reason for the remarkable success of the first Crusaders was the lack of unity among their enemies. The Saracens and Turks hated each other and wouldn’t work together toward a common goal, and the Turks were also at odds among themselves, with one prince often teaming up with Christians against another. However, they were starting to realize the need for unity and were becoming increasingly threatening to their Christian neighbors. King Baldwin II, who had been a prisoner among them, made every effort to strengthen his kingdom after regaining his freedom. One of his strategies was to elevate the Templars, whose bravery, humility, and dedication were widely admired, by obtaining confirmation of their order from the Pope. To do this, he sent two of their members, named Andreas and Gundemar, to Rome in 1127, asking the Pope to address the dangerous situation in the Holy Land. Additionally, the king provided them with a recommendation letter to St. Bernard, the Abbot of Clairvaux, who was then a powerful figure in the Christian world and was also Andreas's uncle.[Pg 193] Shortly afterward, Hugh de Payens himself came to Europe with five other brothers.
Nothing could be more advantageous to the new order than the favour and countenance of the illustrious Abbot of Clairvaux, who had been for some time past an admirer of its objects and deeds. Three years before this time he had written a letter to the Count of Champagne, who had entered the order of the Templars, praising the act as one of eminent merit in the sight of God. He now, on occasion of the visit of the Master[71], wrote, at his request, an eloquent work, exhorting the brethren of the new order to persevere in their toilsome but highly laudable task of fighting against the tyranny of the heathens, and commending their piety to the attention of all the faithful, setting in strong opposition to the luxury of the knights of his time the modesty and simplicity of these holy warriors. He extolled the unlimited obedience of the Templars to their Master, both at home and in the field. "They go and come," says he, "at a sign from their Master; they wear the clothing which he gives them, and ask neither food nor clothing from any one else; they live cheerfully and temperately together, without wives and children, and, that nothing may be wanting for evangelical perfection, without property, in one house, endeavouring to preserve the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace, so that one heart and one soul would appear to dwell in them all. They never sit idle, or go about gaping alter news. When they are resting from warfare against the infidels, a thing which rarely occurs, not to eat the bread of idleness, they employ themselves in repairing their clothes and arms, or do something which the command of the Master or the common need enjoins. There is with[Pg 194] them no respect of persons; the best, not the noblest, are the most highly regarded; they endeavour to anticipate one another in respect and to lighten each other's burdens. No unseemly word or light mocking, no murmur or immoderate laughter, is let to pass unreproved, if any one should allow himself to indulge in such. They avoid games of chess and tables; they are adverse to the chase, and equally so to hawking, in which others so much delight. They hate all jugglers and mountebanks, all wanton songs and plays, as vanities and follies of this world. They cut their hair in obedience to these words of the apostle, 'it is not seemly in a man to have long hair;' no one ever sees them dressed out; they are seldom ever washed; they are mostly to be seen with disordered hair, and covered with dust, brown from their corslets and the heat of the sun. When they go forth to war they arm themselves within with faith, without with iron, but never adorn themselves with gold, wishing to excite fear in the enemy, and not the desire of booty. They delight in horses which are strong and swift, not in such as are handsomely marked and richly caparisoned, wishing to inspire terror rather than admiration. They go not impetuously and headlong into battle, but with care and foresight, peacefully, as the true children of Israel. But as soon as the fight has begun, then they rush without delay on the foes, esteeming them but as sheep; and know no fear, even though they should be few, relying on the aid of the Lord of Sabaoth. Hence one of them has often put a thousand, and two of them ten thousand, to flight. Thus they are, in union strange, at the same time gentler than lambs and grimmer than lions, so that one may doubt whether to call them monks or knights. But both names suit them, for theirs is the mildness of the monk and the valour of the knight. What remains to be said but that this is the Lord's doing,[Pg 195] and it is wonderful in our eyes? Such are they whom God has chosen out of the bravest in Israel, that, watchful and true, they may guard the holy sepulchre, armed with swords, and well skilled in war."
Nothing could be more beneficial to the new order than the support and approval of the famous Abbot of Clairvaux, who had been an admirer of its goals and actions for some time. Three years prior, he had written a letter to the Count of Champagne, who had joined the Templars, praising the act as one of great merit in God's eyes. Now, during the visit of the Master[71], he wrote, at his request, a powerful piece encouraging the members of the new order to continue their hard but highly commendable work of fighting against the tyranny of pagans, and promoting their piety to all the faithful. He strongly contrasted the luxury of the knights of his time with the modesty and simplicity of these holy warriors. He praised the complete obedience of the Templars to their Master, both at home and in battle. "They go and come," he says, "at a signal from their Master; they wear the clothing he provides, and ask for neither food nor clothing from anyone else; they live happily and frugally together, without wives and children, and to achieve true evangelical perfection, without possessions—together in one house, striving to maintain a unity of spirit in the bond of peace, so that one heart and one soul seem to dwell among them all. They never sit idle, nor wander about looking for news. When they take a break from fighting the infidels, which rarely happens, in order not to eat the bread of idleness, they busy themselves with mending their clothes and armor, or doing whatever their Master commands or what the needs of the group require. Among them, there is no favoritism; the best, not the noblest, are most highly valued; they try to outdo one another in respect and to lighten each other’s burdens. No inappropriate words, trivial jokes, murmurs, or excessive laughter are allowed to go uncorrected if anyone indulges. They avoid games like chess and backgammon; they dislike hunting and also falconry, which others enjoy so much. They despise all jugglers and charlatans, along with all lewd songs and performances, seeing them as the vanities and follies of this world. They cut their hair in obedience to the apostle’s words, ‘it is not fitting for a man to have long hair;’ no one ever sees them dressed up; they are rarely washed; they are mostly seen with disheveled hair and covered in dust, brown from their armor and the sun's heat. When they go to war, they arm themselves with faith within and iron without, but they never decorate themselves with gold, aiming to inspire fear in the enemy rather than greed. They prefer strong and swift horses, not those that are elegantly marked and lavishly adorned, wishing to instill terror rather than admiration. They do not rush headlong into battle but proceed carefully and thoughtfully, peacefully, as true children of Israel. Yet, as soon as the fight begins, they charge at their enemies without hesitation, viewing them as mere sheep, and they feel no fear even if they’re outnumbered, relying on the help of the Lord of Hosts. Thus, one of them has often routed a thousand, and two of them ten thousand. They are, in a strange unity, both gentler than lambs and fiercer than lions, making it hard to decide whether to call them monks or knights. But both names fit them, as they embody the gentleness of the monk and the bravery of the knight. What more is there to say but that this is the Lord's doing,[Pg 195] and it is truly wonderful in our sight? Such are those whom God has chosen from the bravest in Israel, to be vigilant and true, guarding the holy sepulcher, armed with swords, and well-trained in warfare."
Though in these expressions of St. Bernard there may be perceived some marks of rhetorical exaggeration, they prove incontestibly the high character and sincere virtue of the founders of the society of the Templars, and that it was organized and regulated with none but worthy objects in view. They also offer, if such were required, an additional proof that the crusade was no emanation of chivalry; for those to whom St. Bernard throughout sets the Templars in opposition were the chivalry of the age.
Though St. Bernard's statements might show some signs of rhetorical exaggeration, they undeniably demonstrate the high character and genuine virtue of the founders of the Templar society, and that it was established and organized with only noble intentions. They also provide, if needed, further evidence that the crusade wasn't simply a product of chivalry; for those St. Bernard consistently contrasts the Templars with were the knights of that time.
This epistle of the Abbot of Clairvaux had been circulated, and every other just and honest mean employed to conciliate the public favour for the Templars, when, on the 31st January, 1128, the Master, Hugh de Payens, appeared before the council of Troyes, consisting of the Archbishops of Rheims and Sens, ten bishops, and a number of abbots, among whom was St. Bernard himself, and presided over by the Cardinal of Albano, the papal legate. The Master having given an account of the principles and exploits of the Templars, the assembled fathers approved of the new order, and gave them a new rule, containing their own previous regulations, with several additions drawn from that of the Benedictines, and chiefly relating to spiritual matters. The validity of this rule was made to depend on the approbation of it by the Holy Father and by the Patriarch of Jerusalem, neither of whom hesitated to confirm it. By the direction of the Pope Honorius, the synod appointed a white mantle to be the distinguishing dress of the brethren of the Temple, that of those of the Hospital being black. This mantle was plain, without any cross, and such it remained till the pontificate[Pg 196] of Pope Eugenius III., who, in 1146, appointed the Templars to wear a red cross on the breast, as a symbol of the martyrdom to which they stood constantly exposed: the cross worn on their black mantles, by the knights of St. John, was, as we have seen[72], white. The order now assumed, or were assigned, a peculiar banner, formed of cloth, striped black and white, called in old French, Bauseant[73], which word became the battle-cry of the knights of the Temple, and often struck terror into the hearts of the infidels. It bore on it the ruddy cross of the order, and the pious and humble inscription, Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo, da gloriam, (Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to thy name give the glory!)
This letter from the Abbot of Clairvaux had been distributed, and every fair and honest effort had been made to win public support for the Templars. On January 31, 1128, the Master, Hugh de Payens, appeared before the council of Troyes, which included the Archbishops of Rheims and Sens, ten bishops, and several abbots, including St. Bernard himself, and was led by the Cardinal of Albano, the papal legate. After the Master presented the principles and achievements of the Templars, the assembled leaders approved the new order and provided them with a new rule that included their previous regulations along with several additions based on those of the Benedictines, mainly concerning spiritual matters. The validity of this rule depended on its approval by the Holy Father and the Patriarch of Jerusalem, both of whom readily confirmed it. Following the direction of Pope Honorius, the synod designated a white mantle as the distinctive dress for the brethren of the Temple, while the Hospital’s brethren wore black. This mantle was plain, without any cross, and remained so until the papacy of Pope Eugenius III., who, in 1146, ordered the Templars to wear a red cross on their chests as a symbol of the martyrdom they constantly faced. The cross worn on the black mantles by the knights of St. John was, as we have seen[72], white. The order now adopted a distinctive banner made of striped black and white cloth, called in old French, Bauseant[73], which became the battle cry of the knights of the Temple and often instilled fear in the hearts of the enemy. It featured the red cross of the order and the devout and humble inscription, Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo, da gloriam, (Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to thy name give the glory!)
Several knights now assumed the habit of the order, and in a progress which Hugh de Payens, accompanied by some of the brethren, made through France and England, he acquired for it universal favour. He did not neglect the charge, committed to him by the king of Jerusalem, of invoking aid for the Holy Land, now so hard bested, and his exhortations were not without effect. Fulk, Count of[Pg 197] Anjou, now rejoined his Master and brethren; but as he had gotten an invitation to repair to Jerusalem, and espouse the only daughter of the King, he set out before them to the East.
Several knights now took on the habits of the order, and during a tour that Hugh de Payens made through France and England with some of the brothers, he gained widespread support for it. He didn’t ignore the responsibility given to him by the king of Jerusalem to seek help for the Holy Land, which was in such dire straits, and his appeals were not without impact. Fulk, Count of[Pg 197] Anjou, soon rejoined his Master and brothers; however, after receiving an invitation to go to Jerusalem and marry the only daughter of the king, he set out for the East ahead of them.
Hugh de Payens would admit no knight into the order who did not terminate all his feuds and enmities, and amend his life. Thus, when a knight, named Hugh d'Amboise, who had oppressed the people of Marmoutier, and had refused obedience to the judicial sentence of the Count of Anjou, was desirous to enter the order, he refused to admit him to take the vows till he had given perfect satisfaction to those whom he had injured.
Hugh de Payens would not accept any knight into the order unless they resolved all their conflicts and changed their ways. So, when a knight named Hugh d'Amboise, who had wronged the people of Marmoutier and had disobeyed the Count of Anjou's ruling, wanted to join the order, he was not allowed to take the vows until he made full amends to those he had harmed.
Honour and respect awaited the Templars wherever they appeared, and persons of all ranks were eager to do what might be grateful to them. When the Templar who came with the seal of Godfrey of St. Omer, as his credential to the governor of that place, to demand his goods which Godfrey had given the order, he met with a most favourable reception, not only from the governor, but from the bishop; and on their applying, as was necessary in this case, to the Count of Flanders and Alsatia, that prince was so far from throwing any impediments in the way, that, in a very short space of time, the buildings which had belonged to Godfrey were converted into a church and a temple-house. Many Flemish gentlemen followed the example of Godfrey, and bestowed a part of their property on the Templars. King Henry I. of England, who met and conversed with Hugh de Payens in Normandy, was so pleased with his account of the new order, that he presented him with many rich gifts, and gave him strong recommendations to the principal of the English barons. The Emperor Lothaire bestowed in 1130 on the order a large part of his patrimony of Supplinburg. The old Count Raymond Berenger, of Barcelona and Provence, weary of the world and of the toils of government,[Pg 198] became a Templar, and took up his abode in the temple-house at Barcelona; and, as he could not go personally to combat the infidels in the Holy Land, he continually sent rich gifts to the brethren at Jerusalem, and he complied rigorously with all the other duties of the order. In 1133 Alfonso, king of Arragon and Navarre, a valiant and warlike monarch, who had been victor in nine and twenty battles against the Moors, finding himself old and without children, made a will, by which he appointed the knights of the Temple and of the Hospital, together with the canons of the Holy Sepulchre, to be his joint-heirs, deeming, perhaps, that the most gallant defenders of the Holy Land would best prosecute his favourite object of breaking the power of the infidels. The aged monarch fell the following year in the battle of Fraga, against the Moors; and, negligent of his disposition of the realm, the nobles of Arragon and Navarre met and chose sovereigns out of his family. The orders were not strong enough to assert their rights; and this instance, therefore, only serves to show the high degree of consideration to which they had so early attained.
Honor and respect followed the Templars wherever they went, and people of all ranks were eager to do what they could to help them. When the Templar arrived with the seal of Godfrey of St. Omer as his credential to the governor, asking for the goods that Godfrey had ordered, he received a very warm welcome, not just from the governor, but also from the bishop. When they had to turn to the Count of Flanders and Alsatia for approval, that prince was anything but obstructive; in no time, the properties that had belonged to Godfrey were transformed into a church and a temple-house. Many Flemish nobles followed Godfrey's lead and donated part of their wealth to the Templars. King Henry I of England, who met and spoke with Hugh de Payens in Normandy, was so impressed with the new order that he offered him many valuable gifts and highly recommended him to the leading English barons. In 1130, Emperor Lothaire granted a significant portion of his estate in Supplinburg to the order. The elderly Count Raymond Berenger of Barcelona and Provence, tired of the world and the burdens of leadership, became a Templar and settled in the temple-house in Barcelona. Unable to join the fight against the infidels in the Holy Land personally, he consistently sent generous gifts to the brothers in Jerusalem and dutifully fulfilled all the other responsibilities of the order. In 1133, Alfonso, king of Aragon and Navarre, a brave and warlike ruler who had won twenty-nine battles against the Moors, realizing he was old and childless, created a will naming the knights of the Temple and the Hospital, along with the canons of the Holy Sepulchre, as his joint heirs, perhaps believing that the bravest defenders of the Holy Land would best further his goal of diminishing the power of the infidels. The elderly king fell in battle the following year at Fraga against the Moors, and neglecting his realm's succession, the nobles of Aragon and Navarre convened and selected rulers from his family. The orders were not powerful enough to assert their rights, thus demonstrating the high regard they had already achieved at such an early stage.

Seal of the Templars.
Chapter 3.
Return of the Templars to the East—Exoneration and Refutation of the Charge of a Connection with the Ismaïlites—Actions of the Templars—Crusade of Louis VII.—Siege of Ascalon—Sale of Nassir-ed-deen—Corruption of the Hospitallers—The bull, Omne Datum Optimum—Refusal of the Templars to march against Egypt—Murder of the Ismaïlite Envoy.
In the year 1129 Hugh de Payens, accompanied by 300 knights of the noblest families in Europe, who had become members of the order, and followed by a large train of pilgrims, returned to the Holy Land. Shortly after his arrival, the unlucky expedition to Damascus above narrated[74], was undertaken, and the Templars formed a portion of the troops which marched, as they fancied, to take possession of that city. As has been observed, this is the first occasion on which we find the Christians in alliance and connection with the Ismaïlites; and as Hammer, the historian of the last, makes the grave charge against Hugh de Payens, of having modelled his new society on the plan of that deadly association, and of having been the chief planner and instigator of the treacherous attempt on Damascus, we will suspend the course of our narration, to discuss the probability of that opinion, though in so doing we must anticipate a little respecting the organisation of the Order of the Temple.
In 1129, Hugh de Payens, along with 300 knights from the top families in Europe who had joined the order, returned to the Holy Land, followed by a large group of pilgrims. Soon after his arrival, the unfortunate expedition to Damascus mentioned above[74] was launched, and the Templars were part of the troops that marched, believing they would take control of that city. As noted, this is the first time we see Christians allied with the Isma'ilites. Hammer, the historian of the Isma'ilites, makes a serious accusation against Hugh de Payens, claiming he modeled his new society after that dangerous group and was the main planner and instigator of the treacherous attempt on Damascus. Therefore, we’ll pause our narrative to explore the likelihood of this viewpoint, although this requires us to delve a bit into the organization of the Order of the Temple.
Hammer argues an identity between the two[Pg 200] orders, as he styles them, of the Ismaïlites and the Templars, from the similarity of their dress, their internal organisation, and their secret doctrine; and as the two societies existed in the same country, and that of the Ismaïlites was first instituted, he infers that this was the original, and that of the Templars the copy.
Hammer points out the connection between the two[Pg 200] groups he refers to as the Ismaïlites and the Templars. He highlights the similarities in their clothing, internal structure, and secret teachings. Since both societies operated in the same country and the Ismaïlites were established first, he concludes that the Ismaïlites were the original and the Templars were the imitation.
First, with respect to the outward habiliment, the dress of the order. Nothing, as appears to us, can be weaker than to lay any stress on so casual a circumstance as similarity of forms or colours, more especially when a true and distinct cause for the assumption of them on either side can be assigned. The colour of the khalifs of the house of Ommiyah was white; hence the house of Abbas, in their contest with them, adopted black, as their distinguishing hue; and hence, when the Abbassides were in possession of the supreme power, all those who, under pretence of supporting the rights of the family of Ali, or on any other pretext, raised the standard of revolt against them, naturally selected white, as the sign of their opposition. Hassan Sabah, therefore, only retained the use of the colour which he found already established. When he formed the institution of the Fedavee, or the Devoted to Death, what more suitable mark of distinction could he assign them than a red girdle or cap, which indicated their readiness to spill their own blood or that of others? With respect to the Templars, the society of the Hospitallers was already existing when Hugh de Payens and his companions resolved to form themselves into a new association. The mantle worn by the members of the Hospital was black: what colour then was so natural for them to adopt as its opposite, white? and when, nearly thirty years after their institution, the pope appointed them or gave them permission to wear a cross on their mantle, like the rival order, no colour could[Pg 201] present itself so well suited to those who daily and hourly exposed themselves to martyrdom, as that of blood, in which there was so much of what was symbolical.
First, regarding the external appearance, the dress of the order. Nothing, it seems to us, is weaker than to emphasize such a casual detail as the similarity of forms or colors, especially when there’s a clear reason for adopting them on either side. The color of the caliphs from the house of Ommiyah was white; thus, the house of Abbas, in their struggle against them, chose black as their distinguishing color. So, when the Abbasids were in power, anyone claiming to support the rights of the family of Ali, or for any other reason, who revolted against them, naturally chose white as the symbol of their opposition. Hassan Sabah, therefore, simply continued using the color that was already established. When he created the institution of the Fedavee, or the Devoted to Death, what better mark of distinction could he give them than a red girdle or cap, signifying their willingness to shed their own blood or that of others? As for the Templars, the Hospitallers were already established when Hugh de Payens and his companions decided to form a new association. The mantle worn by the Hospitallers was black: what color could be more fitting for them to adopt than its opposite, white? And when, nearly thirty years after their founding, the pope allowed them to wear a cross on their mantle, like the rival order, no color could represent those who constantly risked martyrdom better than that of blood, which held so much symbolism.
With respect to internal organisation, it will, we apprehend, be always found that this is, for the most part, the growth of time and the product of circumstances, and is always nearly the same where these last are similar. The dominion of the Assassins extended over large tracks of country; hence arose the necessity of appointing lieutenants. In like manner, when the Templars got large possessions in the West and the East, they could not avoid, after the example of the Hospitallers, appointing persons to manage the affairs of the society in different countries. Hence, then, as the Ismaïlites had their Sheikh-al-Jebal, with his Dais-al-Kebir of Kuhistan and Syria, so the Templars had their Master and their Priors of different provinces. The resemblance is so far exact, but, as we see, easily accounted for. That which Hammer goes on to draw between the component parts of each society is altogether fanciful. To the Refeek, Fedavee and Lazik of the Ismaïlites, he sets as counterparts the knights, esquires, and serving-brethren of the Templars. It is needless to point out the arbitrariness of this comparison. The chaplains of the Templars, we may see, are omitted, and it was, perhaps, they who bore the greatest resemblance to the Refeeks, while neither knights nor esquires had the smallest similarity to the Fedavee.
In terms of internal organization, we believe this is mostly a result of time and circumstances, and it tends to be quite similar where those circumstances are alike. The Assassins controlled large areas of land; therefore, there was a need to appoint lieutenants. Similarly, when the Templars acquired vast holdings in the West and the East, they followed the Hospitallers' example and designated people to oversee the society’s affairs in different regions. Just as the Ismaïlites had their Sheikh-al-Jebal, along with his Dais-al-Kebir in Kuhistan and Syria, the Templars had their Master and Priors in various provinces. The similarities are striking but can be easily explained. However, Hammer's comparison of the different components of each society is purely imaginative. He matches the Ismaïlites' Refeek, Fedavee, and Lazik with the knights, esquires, and serving-brethren of the Templars. It's unnecessary to highlight how arbitrary this comparison is. Notably, the Templars' chaplains are overlooked, and it was likely they who had the most in common with the Refeeks, while neither knights nor esquires bore any resemblance to the Fedavee.
As to a secret doctrine, we shall hereafter discuss the question whether the Templars had one or not. Here we shall only observe, that the proof of it, and of the ultimate object of the Templars being the same with that of the Ismaïlites, namely, the acquisition of independent power, adduced by Hammer, is by no means satisfactory. He says[Pg 202] that it was the object of both societies to make themselves masters of the surrounding country, by the possession of fortresses and castles, and thus become formidable rivals to princes; and he sees, in the preceptories or houses of the Templars, the copies of the hill-forts of the Ismaïlites. That such was the design of this last society is quite apparent from the preceding part of our work; but what resemblance is there between such formidable places of defence as Alamoot and Lamseer, and the simple structures in which a few knights and their attendants dwelt in the different parts of Europe, and which were hardly, if at all, stronger than the ordinary baronial residences? and what resistance could the Temple of London or that of Paris offer to the royal strength, if put forth? Hammer has here again fallen into his usual error of arguing too hastily from accidental resemblances. The preceptories of the Templars were, as we shall show, the necessary consequence of the acquisition of property by the order, and had nothing hostile to society in their nature.
Regarding a secret doctrine, we will discuss later whether the Templars had one. For now, we just want to point out that the evidence presented by Hammer, which claims the Templars aimed for the same ultimate goal as the Ismaïlites—specifically, to gain independent power—is not convincing. He argues[Pg 202] that both groups intended to dominate the surrounding regions by controlling fortresses and castles, thereby becoming serious competitors to princes. He interprets the preceptories or houses of the Templars as equivalents of the Ismaïlite hill-forts. It's clear from the earlier parts of our work that this was indeed the goal of the Ismaïlites; however, what similarity exists between the formidable defensive sites like Alamoot and Lamseer and the simple structures where a handful of knights and their attendants lived across Europe, which were barely stronger than typical baronial residences? What kind of resistance could the Temple of London or Paris offer against royal power if challenged? Hammer has once again made the mistake of hastily drawing conclusions from superficial similarities. The Templar preceptories were, as we will demonstrate, a necessary outcome of the order's property acquisitions and had no hostile intent towards society.
When we reflect on the character of the first crusaders, and particularly on that of the first Templars, and call to mind their piety, ignorance, and simplicity, nothing can appear more absurd than to ascribe to them secret philosophical doctrines of impiety, imbibed from those whose language they did not even understand, and whose religion and manners they held in abhorrence, and to suppose that the first poor knights of the Temple could have had visions of the future power of their order, and have looked forward to its dominion over the Christian world. "But this is a common mistake with ingenious men, who are for ever ascribing to the founders of empires, religions, and societies, that attribute of divinity which sees from the beginning the ultimate end, and forms all its plans and projects with a view to it. It is thus that some[Pg 203] would fain persuade us that Mahommed, in his solitary cave at Mecca, saw clearly and distinctly the future triumphs of Islam, and its banners floating at the Pyrenees and the Oxus; that Cromwell, when an obscure individual, already in fancy grasped the sceptre of England; and that Loyola beheld the members of his order governing the consciences of kings, and ruling an empire in Paraguay. All such results are in fact the slow and gradual growth of time; one step leads to another, till the individual or the society looks back with amazement to the feeble commencement."
When we think about the first crusaders, especially the first Templars, and remember their devotion, naiveté, and simplicity, it seems ridiculous to claim they had hidden philosophical beliefs of irreverence, learned from people whose language they couldn’t even grasp and whose religion and customs they despised. It's absurd to assume these early knights of the Temple could foresee the future power of their order and expect its control over the Christian world. "But this is a common error made by clever people who often attribute a divine insight to the founders of empires, religions, and societies, as though they could see the ultimate goal from the start and designed all their plans around that vision. This is how some[Pg 203] would like us to believe that Muhammad, in his solitary cave at Mecca, clearly envisioned the future victories of Islam, its banners flying at the Pyrenees and the Oxus; that Cromwell, when he was just an unknown figure, was already imagining holding the scepter of England; and that Loyola saw the members of his order guiding the consciences of kings and ruling an empire in Paraguay. In reality, all such outcomes are the result of slow, gradual development over time; one step follows another until the individual or society looks back in wonder at their humble beginnings."
The Templars and the Ismaïlites are mentioned together by history in only one more relation, that is, on occasion of the tribute paid to the former by the Syrian branch of the latter, and the murder of the Ismaïlite ambassador above related[75]. As this act was very probably committed by order of the Master of the Temple, who, it might be, doubted the ability or the future inclination of the king to pay the 3000 byzants a year, it testifies but little for any very friendly feeling between the Templars and the Ismaïlites. Yet Hammer opines that the 3000 byzants were paid, not as the tribute of the weaker to the stronger, but by way of pension for the secret services which the Templars were in the habit of rendering their cause; such, for example, as refusing on one occasion to join in the expedition against the khalif of Egypt, the great head of the society of the Assassins.
The Templars and the Ismaïlites are mentioned together in history in only one other context, which is the tribute that the Syrian branch of the Ismaïlites paid to the Templars, along with the murder of the Ismaïlite ambassador previously discussed[75]. This act was likely ordered by the Master of the Temple, who might have doubted whether the king would be able or willing to pay the 3000 byzants each year, indicating there wasn't much of a friendly relationship between the Templars and the Ismaïlites. However, Hammer believes that the 3000 byzants were paid not as a tribute from the weaker to the stronger, but as a kind of pension for the secret services that the Templars routinely provided for their cause; for instance, they once refused to join the expedition against the Khalif of Egypt, the leader of the Assassins.
To narrate the various exploits of the knights of the Temple, would be to write the history of the Crusades; for, from the time that the order acquired strength and consistency, no action with the Infidels ever was fought in which the chivalry of the Temple[Pg 204] did not bear a distinguished part. Their war-cry was ever heard in the thickest of the fray, and rarely was Bauseant seen to waver or give back in the conflict. The knights of St. John fought with emulative valour; the example of the rival orders stimulated all parts of the Christian army; and to this influence may be, in great measure, ascribed many of the most wonderful triumphs of the Cross during the twelfth century.
To tell the stories of the knights of the Temple is essentially to recount the history of the Crusades; because, from the moment the order gained strength and stability, they were involved in every battle against the Infidels where the chivalry of the Temple[Pg 204] played a significant role. Their battle cry was always heard in the heat of the fight, and it was rare for the Bauseant to falter or retreat during conflict. The knights of St. John fought with inspiring bravery; the example set by these rival orders motivated all parts of the Christian army, and this influence can largely explain many of the remarkable victories of the Cross during the twelfth century.
In the year 1147, when Pope Eugenius III. came to Paris to arrange the proposed crusade with Louis VII., both the pope and the king honoured with their presence a general chapter of the order of the Temple, which was holden at that place. It was probably on this occasion that the supreme pontiff conferred on the order the important privilege of having mass said once a year in places lying under interdict. The newly-elected Master of the Temple, Eberhard de Bar, and 130 knights, accompanied the king on his march for the Holy Land; and their valour and their skill greatly contributed towards the preservation of the crusading army in their unfortunate march through Lesser Asia. The siege of Damascus, which was undertaken after the arrival of the French and German kings in the Holy Land, miscarried, as is well known, through treachery. The traitors were doubtless the Pullani, as the Latins of Syria were called, who were at this time capable of every thing that is bad. Some writers most unjustly charge the Templars with this guilt; but those who are the best informed on the subject make no accusation against them. The charge, however, while it shows the power and consideration of the Templars at that time, may be considered to prove also that they had degenerated somewhat from their original virtue; for otherwise it could never have been made.
In 1147, when Pope Eugenius III came to Paris to plan the proposed crusade with Louis VII, both the pope and the king attended a general chapter of the Knights Templar held there. It was likely on this occasion that the pope granted the order the significant privilege of having mass said once a year in places under interdict. The newly elected Master of the Temple, Eberhard de Bar, and 130 knights joined the king on his journey to the Holy Land, and their bravery and skill greatly helped keep the crusading army intact during their difficult march through Lesser Asia. The siege of Damascus, which took place after the arrival of the French and German kings in the Holy Land, notoriously failed due to treachery. The traitors were likely the Pullani, as the Latin Christians of Syria were called, who were capable of all sorts of wrongdoing at that time. Some writers unjustly blame the Templars for this betrayal, but those who are well-informed do not accuse them. However, this accusation, while it highlights the power and status of the Templars at that time, also suggests that they had strayed somewhat from their original values; otherwise, such a charge could never have been made.
The Christian army laid siege in 1153 to the town[Pg 205] of Ascalon, which the Saracens still held, and would have taken it, but for the cupidity of the Templars. A large heap of wood had been piled by the besiegers against a part of the wall, and set fire to. The wind blew strong towards the town during an entire night, carrying the smoke and heat into the town, so that the garrison was forced to retire from that quarter. The Christians fed the flames with pitch, oil, and other inflammable substances, and the wall next the pile, cracked by the heat, fell down, leaving a considerable breach. The army was preparing to enter at this opening when Bernard de Tremelai, the Master of the Temple, taking his station at it with his knights, refused all ingress. It was the law of war in those days, among the crusaders, that whatever house or spoil any one took when a town was stormed, became his property. The Templars, therefore, were eager to have the first choice; and having kept off all others, Tremelai, with forty of his knights, boldly entered a strongly-garrisoned town. But they paid the penalty of their rashness and cupidity; for the garrison surrounded and slew them all, and then closed up the breach.
The Christian army laid siege in 1153 to the town[Pg 205] of Ascalon, which the Saracens still held, and would have taken it if not for the greed of the Templars. A large pile of wood had been stacked by the besiegers against a section of the wall and set on fire. The wind blew strongly toward the town all night, carrying smoke and heat inside, forcing the garrison to retreat from that area. The Christians fueled the flames with pitch, oil, and other flammable materials, and the section of the wall next to the pile cracked from the heat and collapsed, creating a significant breach. The army was getting ready to enter through this opening when Bernard de Tremelai, the Master of the Temple, positioned himself there with his knights and barred anyone else from entering. Back then, the law of war among the crusaders was that whatever house or loot someone took when a town was stormed became their property. The Templars were eager to seize the first choice, and by keeping everyone else out, Tremelai, along with forty of his knights, boldly entered a well-guarded town. However, they paid the price for their rashness and greed; the garrison surrounded and killed them all, then closed up the breach.
One of the most disgraceful acts which stain the annals of the Templars occurred in the year 1155, when Bertrand de Blancford, whom William of Tyre calls a "pious and God-fearing man," was Master of the order. In a contest for the supreme power in Egypt, which the viziers, bearing the proud title of Sultan, exercised under the phantom-khalifs, Sultan Abbas, who had put to death the khalif his master, found himself obliged to fly from before the vengeance of the incensed people. With his harem, and his own and a great part of the royal treasures, he took his way through the Desert. A body of Christians, chiefly Templars, lay in wait for the fugitives near Ascalon; the resistance offered by the[Pg 206] Moslems was slight and ineffectual; Abbas himself was either slain or fled, and his son Nassir-ed-deen and the treasures became the prize of the victors. The far larger part of the booty of course fell to the Templars; but this did not satisfy their avarice; and though Nassir-ed-deen had professed his desire to become a Christian, and had begun, by way of preparation for that change, to learn the Latin language, they sold him to his father's enemies for 60,000 pieces of gold, and stood by to see him bound hand and foot, and placed in a sort of cage or iron-latticed sedan, on a camel, to be conducted to Egypt, where a death by protracted torture awaited him.
One of the most disgraceful acts in the history of the Templars happened in 1155, when Bertrand de Blancford, described by William of Tyre as a "pious and God-fearing man," was the Master of the order. During a power struggle in Egypt, where the viziers—who held the lofty title of Sultan—operated under the shadow of the khalifs, Sultan Abbas, who had killed his own khalif, was forced to flee from the wrath of the angry people. Accompanied by his harem and a significant portion of the royal treasures, he traveled through the Desert. A group of Christians, mainly Templars, lay in wait for the fleeing Sultan near Ascalon; the resistance from the[Pg 206] Muslims was minimal and ineffective; Abbas was either killed or escaped, and his son Nassir-ed-deen along with the treasures became the spoils of the victors. Most of the loot naturally went to the Templars, but their greed was insatiable; even though Nassir-ed-deen had expressed a desire to become a Christian and had begun learning Latin as part of his preparation for this change, they sold him to his father's enemies for 60,000 pieces of gold, and stood by to watch him bound hand and foot, placed in a sort of cage or iron-latticed sedan on a camel, to be taken to Egypt, where a slow and painful death awaited him.
The Hospitallers were at this time become as corrupt as the Templars; and in this same year, when the patriarch demanded from them the tithes which they were bound to pay him, they treated the demand with scorn; raised, to show their superior wealth, stately and lofty buildings, before the humble church of the Holy Sepulchre; and whenever the patriarch entered it to exhort the people, or pronounce the absolution of sins, they rang, by order of their Master, the bells of the Hospital so loud, that, with the utmost efforts, he could not succeed in making himself heard. One day, when the congregation was assembled in the church, the Hospitallers rushed into it in arms, and shot arrows among them as if they were robbers or infidels. These arrows were collected and hung up on Mount Calvary, where Christ had been crucified, to the scandal of these recreant knights. On applying to the Pope Adrian IV. for redress, the Syrian clergy found him and his cardinals so prepossessed in favour of their enemies,—bribed by them, as was said,—that they had no chance of relief. The insolence of the Hospitallers became in consequence greater than ever.[Pg 207]
The Hospitallers had become just as corrupt as the Templars by this time; and in the same year, when the patriarch asked them for the tithes they were obligated to pay, they dismissed his request with contempt. To flaunt their wealth, they constructed impressive and tall buildings near the modest church of the Holy Sepulchre. Whenever the patriarch entered to inspire the people or absolve sins, they ordered the Hospital's bells to ring so loudly that he couldn’t be heard, no matter how hard he tried. One day, when the congregation was gathered in the church, the Hospitallers stormed in armed and shot arrows into the crowd as if they were thieves or enemies. These arrows were collected and displayed on Mount Calvary, where Christ was crucified, shocking the cowardly knights. When the Syrian clergy sought help from Pope Adrian IV, they found him and his cardinals so biased towards their enemies—allegedly bribed—that they had no hope for relief. The insolence of the Hospitallers, as a result, grew worse than ever.[Pg 207]
In fact, as an extremely judicious writer[76] observes, valiantly as the knights of the spiritual orders fought against the heathens, and great as was their undoubted merit in the defence of the helpless pilgrims, it cannot be denied that these knights were, if not the original promoters, at least active participators in all the mischiefs which prevailed in the Holy Land, and that they were often led to a shameful dereliction of their duties, by avarice and thirst after booty.
In fact, as a very wise writer[76] points out, even though the knights of the spiritual orders fought valiantly against the heathens and definitely earned praise for defending helpless pilgrims, it’s true that these knights were, if not the original instigators, at least active participants in all the wrongdoings that occurred in the Holy Land. They were often driven to shamefully neglect their duties because of greed and a desire for treasure.
The year 1162 is conspicuous in the annals of the Templars, as the date of the bull Omne Datum Optimum, the Magna Charta of the order, and the great key-stone of their power. On the death of Adrian IV. two rival popes were elected,—Alexander III. by the Sicilian,—Victor III. by the Imperial party. The Templars at first acknowledged the latter; but at a synod, held at Nazareth, in 1161, they took the side of his rival. Alexander, who came off victor, was not ungrateful; and on the 7th January, of the following year, the aforesaid bull was issued. By this document, which would almost appear to be the dictation of the order, the Templars were released from all spiritual obedience except to the Holy See; they were allowed to have peculiar burial-grounds at their houses, and to have chaplains of their own; they were freed from the obligation to pay tithes, and could, with the consent of the bishop, receive them. It was also prohibited to any one who had once entered the order, to leave it, unless it were to enter into a stricter one. These great privileges necessarily awakened the envy and enmity of the clergy against the Templars and the Hospitallers, which last were equally favoured by the pontiffs; but these artful prelates, who were now aiming at universal power, knew well the advantage which they might derive from attaching firmly to them[Pg 208] these associations, which united the valour of the knight to the obedience of the monk, whose members were of the noblest families in Europe, and whose possessions were extensive and spread over all parts of the Christian world.
The year 1162 stands out in the history of the Templars as the date of the bull Omne Datum Optimum, the Magna Carta of the order and a crucial pillar of their power. Following the death of Adrian IV, two rival popes were elected—Alexander III by the Sicilian faction and Victor III by the Imperial party. Initially, the Templars supported the latter, but at a synod held in Nazareth in 1161, they sided with his rival. Alexander, who emerged victorious, showed gratitude, and on January 7 of the following year, the aforementioned bull was issued. This document, which seemed almost dictated by the order, released the Templars from all spiritual obligations except to the Holy See; it allowed them to have their own burial grounds at their houses and to have their own chaplains; they were exempt from paying tithes, though they could receive them with the bishop's consent. Additionally, anyone who joined the order could not leave it unless transferring to a stricter one. These significant privileges stirred envy and hostility among the clergy towards the Templars and the Hospitallers, who were also favored by the popes. However, these cunning prelates, aiming for universal power, recognized the benefits of closely aligning with these groups that combined knightly valor with monastic obedience, whose members hailed from the noblest families in Europe, holding extensive lands across the Christian world.
In 1167 occurred one of the few instances of cowardice, or rather, we might say, treachery, which the annals of the Templars present. Almeric, king of Jerusalem, had committed to the Templars the charge of guarding one of those strong fortified caverns which were on the other side of the Jordan. Here they were besieged by the Turks, and, though the king was hastening to their relief, they capitulated. Almeric, incensed at their conduct, though he was a great friend of the order, and particularly of the Master, Philip of Naploos, instantly had twelve of the cowardly or treacherous knights hanged, and he experienced no opposition whatever on the part of the order. Philip, we may observe, was the first Master of the Temple who was a born Syrian; but he appears to have been a man of fair and honourable character. He was lord of the fortresses of Krak and Montreal in the Stony Arabia, which he had obtained with his wife. It was not till after her death that he became a Templar. Alter holding the dignity of Master for three years he resigned it. The cause of his resignation is unknown; but he was highly honoured and respected during the remainder of his life, and was employed on various important occasions.
In 1167, there was one of the rare moments of cowardice, or we could call it treachery, that the history of the Templars records. Almeric, the king of Jerusalem, had entrusted the Templars with guarding one of the strong fortified caves on the other side of the Jordan. They were besieged by the Turks, and even though the king was rushing to their aid, they surrendered. Almeric, furious with their actions, even though he was a great supporter of the order and especially of the Master, Philip of Naploos, immediately had twelve of the cowardly or treacherous knights hanged, and he faced no resistance from the order. It’s worth noting that Philip was the first Master of the Temple to be a native Syrian; he seemed to be a man of decent and honorable character. He was the lord of the fortresses of Krak and Montreal in Stony Arabia, which he acquired through marriage. It was only after his wife passed away that he joined the Templars. After serving as Master for three years, he stepped down. The reason for his resignation is unclear, but he was greatly honored and respected for the rest of his life and was involved in various important matters.
It was during the mastership of Philip of Naploos, that King Almeric, at the instigation of the Master of the Hospital, and in violation of a solemn treaty, undertook an unprosperous expedition into Egypt. The Templars loudly protested against this act of perfidy, and refused to take any share in the war, either, as William, the honest Archbishop of Tyre, observes, "because it was against their conscience, or[Pg 209] because the Master of the rival order was the author and projector of it." The prelate seems to regard the more honourable as the true cause. Perhaps we should express ourselves correctly if we said that in this, as in many other cases, duty and prejudice happily combined, and the path which was the most agreeable was also the most honourable.
It was during Philip of Naploos's leadership that King Almeric, influenced by the Master of the Hospital and in violation of a solemn treaty, launched an unsuccessful campaign into Egypt. The Templars strongly opposed this act of betrayal and refused to participate in the war, either, as William, the honest Archbishop of Tyre, points out, "because it was against their conscience, or[Pg 209] because the Master of the rival order was its instigator." The prelate seems to believe that the more honorable reason is the true one. Perhaps we would be more accurate in saying that in this, as in many other instances, duty and bias fortunately combined, and the path that was most appealing was also the most honorable.
In the mastership of Ado of St. Amando, the successor of Philip of Naploos, occurred the treacherous murder of the Ismaïlite envoy above narrated[77]—an act which brought the Templars into great disrepute with pious Christians, as it was quite manifest that they preferred money to winning souls to Christ.
During the leadership of Ado of St. Amando, who succeeded Philip of Naploos, the deceitful murder of the Ismaïlite envoy as mentioned above[77]—an event that greatly damaged the reputation of the Templars among devout Christians, as it was clear that they valued money more than leading souls to Christ.
Chapter 4.
Heroism of the Templars and Hospitallers—Battle of Hittin—Crusade of Richard of England and Philip of France—Corruption of the Order—Pope Innocent III. writes a Letter of Censure—Frederic II.—Great Slaughter of the Templars—Henry III. of England and the Templars—Power of the Templars in Moravia—Slaughter of them by the Hospitallers—Fall of Acre.
The fall of the Christian power in the East was now fast approaching, and it was not a little hastened by the enmity of the rival orders. The truth of the old sentence, that the Deity deprives of sense those whom he will destroy, was manifested on this as on so many other similar occasions; and while the great and able Saladin was consolidating his power and preparing for the accomplishment of the object which, as a true Moslem, lay nearest his heart, the recovery of the Holy City, discord, enmity, and animosity, prevailed among those who should have been actuated by one soul and by one spirit.
The decline of Christian power in the East was rapidly approaching, and it was significantly accelerated by the hostility between rival factions. The truth of the old saying that God removes wisdom from those He intends to destroy was evident in this situation, just as it had been in many others. While the great and capable Saladin was solidifying his power and getting ready to achieve his true Muslim goal—the recovery of the Holy City—discord, hostility, and resentment flourished among those who should have been united in purpose and spirit.
Yet the two orders of religious chivalry had not derogated from their original valour, and the last days of Jerusalem were illumined by some noble feats of prowess. On the 1st of May, 1187, when Malek-el-Afdal, the son of Saladin, was returning from an expedition into the Holy Land, which he had undertaken with the consent of the Count of Tripolis, regent of the kingdom, the Masters of the Temple and of the Hospital, having collected about 140 knights and 500 footmen, met the Moslems, who were[Pg 211] 7,000 in number, at the celebrated brook Kishon. They immediately charged them with the utmost impetuosity; the Turks, according to custom, turned and fled; the Christian knights pursued, leaving their infantry unprotected. Suddenly a large body of the Turks emerged from a valley, and fell on and slaughtered the footmen. Their cries brought back the knights to their aid, but, impeded by the narrowness of the ground, they could neither lay their lances in rest nor run their horses against the enemy, and all fell beneath the weapons of the Turks, with the exception of the Master of the Temple and three of his knights, who were saved by the fleetness of their horses. The Master of the Hospital was among the slain. In this unfortunate fight, James De Mailly, the marshal of the Templars, and a Hospitaller, named Henry, especially distinguished themselves. After all their brave companions had been slain around them, they still maintained the conflict; the Turks, filled with admiration of their valour, repeatedly offered them quarter, but in vain; and they fell at last, overwhelmed with darts flung from a distance, no one venturing to approach them. The historian, Vinisauf, tells us that De Mailly was mounted on a white horse, which, joined with his relucent arms and white mantle, made him appear to the infidels to be St. George, and they exulted greatly in having slain the tutelar saint of the Christians. He adds, what is not an unlikely circumstance, that the Turks covered his body with dust, which they afterwards powdered on their heads, thinking thereby to acquire some portion of his valour.
Yet the two orders of religious knights had not lost their original bravery, and the last days of Jerusalem shone with some noble acts of courage. On May 1, 1187, when Malek-el-Afdal, the son of Saladin, was returning from a mission in the Holy Land, which he had undertaken with the Count of Tripolis' permission, the Masters of the Temple and of the Hospital gathered about 140 knights and 500 foot soldiers. They confronted the Muslims, who were 7,000 strong, at the famous brook Kishon. They immediately charged with great force; the Turks, as was their tradition, turned and fled; the Christian knights pursued them, leaving their infantry vulnerable. Suddenly, a large group of Turks emerged from a valley and attacked, slaughtering the foot soldiers. Their cries brought the knights back to help, but the narrow terrain prevented them from using their lances or charging at the enemy, and they all fell to the Turks except for the Master of the Temple and three of his knights, who escaped thanks to their fast horses. The Master of the Hospital was among those killed. In this unfortunate battle, James De Mailly, the marshal of the Templars, and a Hospitaller named Henry particularly distinguished themselves. Even after all their brave companions had been slain around them, they continued to fight; the Turks, impressed by their courage, repeatedly offered them surrender, but to no avail. They eventually fell, overwhelmed by distant projectiles, with no one daring to approach them. The historian Vinisauf tells us that De Mailly was riding a white horse, and coupled with his shining armor and white cloak, he seemed to the infidels to be St. George, and they rejoiced greatly in having killed the patron saint of the Christians. He adds, which is not unlikely, that the Turks covered his body with dust, which they later sprinkled on their heads, thinking it would grant them some of his bravery.
At the fatal battle of Hittin, where 30,000 Christians lost their lives, where the king and all his princes became captives, and where the Latin power in the East was broken for ever, the Master of the Temple, Gerard of Ridefort, and several of his[Pg 212] knights and those of the Hospital, were among the captives. Saladin, who bore a particular hatred to the spiritual knights, would spare them on no condition but that of their renouncing their faith. To a man they gallantly refused; and, with the exception of the Master, the heads of all were struck off. Many who belonged not to the orders, smit with desire for the glory of martyrdom, cast the mantles of Templars around them, and went cheerfully to death as such. One Templar, named Nicolaus, evinced such joy and impatience for this glorious fate, that, according to the ideas of those times, heaven was believed to testify its approbation by a visible sign, and during three nights a celestial light illumined the unburied corpse of the Christian martyr.
At the deadly battle of Hittin, where 30,000 Christians lost their lives, where the king and all his princes were captured, and where Latin power in the East was shattered forever, the Master of the Temple, Gerard of Ridefort, along with several of his[Pg 212] knights and those of the Hospital, were among the captives. Saladin, who had a particular hatred for the spiritual knights, would spare them only if they renounced their faith. They all bravely refused; and, except for the Master, all their heads were chopped off. Many who did not belong to the orders, filled with a desire for the glory of martyrdom, draped themselves in the mantles of Templars and went gladly to their deaths as such. One Templar, named Nicolaus, showed such joy and eagerness for this glorious fate that, according to the beliefs of that time, heaven was thought to show its approval with a visible sign, as a celestial light illuminated the unburied body of the Christian martyr for three nights.
It was indeed rare for a Templar to renounce his faith: prejudice, or honour, we may style it, or a better principle, always kept him steady in it, whatever the irregularities of his life might be. We recollect but one instance of a brother of the Temple abjuring his faith, and he was unhappily an English knight, named Robert of St. Albans. From some unassigned cause, he flung away the dress of his order, broke his vows, went over to Saladin, and became a Musselman. The sultan gave him one of his female relatives in marriage, and the recreant knight appeared before Jerusalem at the head of an army of the infidels. He had promised to Saladin to reduce the Holy City; but her hour was not yet come; and after wasting all the country from Mont-royal to Jericho with fire and sword, he was forced to retreat before the chivalry of Jerusalem, who came forth with the holy cross, and gave him a signal defeat. This event occurred in the year 1184; and the apostacy of this Templar caused extreme dismay among the Christians, and excited great ill-will against the order in general.[Pg 213]
It was quite rare for a Templar to renounce his faith: whether it was prejudice, or honor, or perhaps a better principle, it always kept him firm in it, no matter the irregularities of his life. We only remember one instance of a brother of the Temple abandoning his faith, and that was sadly an English knight named Robert of St. Albans. For some unknown reason, he cast aside the garb of his order, broke his vows, sided with Saladin, and converted to Islam. The sultan gave him one of his female relatives to marry, and the traitorous knight appeared before Jerusalem at the head of an army of infidels. He had promised Saladin he would conquer the Holy City; but her time had not yet come; and after laying waste to the land from Mont-royal to Jericho with fire and sword, he was forced to retreat before the knights of Jerusalem, who came out with the holy cross and dealt him a decisive defeat. This happened in the year 1184; and the apostasy of this Templar caused extreme distress among the Christians and stirred up significant resentment against the order as a whole.[Pg 213]
It had hitherto been the maxim of the order, not to redeem any of their members out of captivity with any higher ransom than a girdle, or a knife, or some other insignificant matter, acting in this on the same principle with the old Romans, who never redeemed prisoners. The Master, Ado de St. Amando, had died in captivity; but to redeem Gerard de Ridefort, no less a ransom was given than the city of Ascalon.—Gerard died of a wound received in battle the following year.
It had always been the rule of the order not to free any of their members from captivity for a ransom that was higher than a belt, a knife, or some other trivial item, following the same principle as the ancient Romans, who never paid to redeem prisoners. The Master, Ado de St. Amando, had died while in captivity; however, to free Gerard de Ridefort, they gave a ransom no less than the city of Ascalon. Gerard died from a wound received in battle the following year.
During the memorable crusade of Philip of France and Richard of England to the Holy Land, which their rivalry and animosity rendered utterly ineffectual, we find the Hospitallers on the side of the king of England, and of course the Templars the warm partizans of the king of France. Yet, when Richard was on his return to Europe, he sent for the Master of the Temple, and said to him, that he knew by many he was not loved, and that he ran great risk of his life on his way to his kingdom; he therefore besought him that he would permit him to assume the dress of the order, and send two of the brethren with him. The Master readily granted the request of so potent a monarch, and the king went on board in the habit of a Templar. It was probably on account of the known enmity of the order to him, that King Richard adopted this expedient, thinking that no one would ever suspect him of being with the Templars. His brother John, we may here observe, was, on the contrary, a great favourer of the order, to whom he gave Lundy Island, at the mouth of the Bristol Channel. Throughout his reign, this odious prince attached himself to the Templars as the faithful servants of his lord the pope, reckoning on their aid against his gallant barons, who would not leave the liberties of the nation at the feet of a faithless tyrant. It was now very much the custom for monarchs to[Pg 214] deposit their treasures in the Temple houses; and in the year 1213 we find King John demanding 20,000 marks which he had committed to the Templars to keep. We meet with no instance of breach of trust on the part of the knights.
During the notable crusade led by Philip of France and Richard of England to the Holy Land, which was completely ineffective due to their rivalry and hostility, we see the Hospitallers supporting Richard, while the Templars were strong supporters of Philip. However, when Richard was returning to Europe, he called for the Master of the Temple and told him that he knew he was not liked by many and was at great risk to his life on the way back to his kingdom; he therefore asked to be allowed to wear the order's robes and have two of the brothers accompany him. The Master quickly agreed to the request of such a powerful king, and Richard boarded the ship dressed as a Templar. It was probably because of the known animosity the order had towards him that King Richard chose this approach, thinking no one would suspect him of being associated with the Templars. His brother John, on the other hand, was a great supporter of the order, to whom he gave Lundy Island, at the mouth of the Bristol Channel. Throughout his reign, this detestable prince aligned himself with the Templars as loyal servants of his lord the pope, counting on their support against his brave barons, who would not surrender the nation's freedoms to a treacherous tyrant. It was common for kings to [Pg 214] deposit their valuables in the Temple houses; in 1213, we find King John demanding 20,000 marks that he had entrusted to the Templars for safekeeping. There is no record of any breach of trust by the knights.
The Templars shared in the common dishonesty of the church with respect to false miracles, and they felt no scruple at augmenting their wealth by deceptions calculated to impose on the ignorance and zeal of the laity. In the year 1204 it was given out that an image of the Virgin, in a convent not far from Damascus, had become clothed with flesh, and that there issued from its breasts a kind of juice or liquor of wondrous efficacy in removing the sins of pious pilgrims. As the place was distant, and the road beset with danger, the knights of the Temple took upon themselves the task of fetching the mirific fluid to the part of the coast still held by the Latins, and accommodating pilgrims with it, and the coffers of the order were largely replenished by this pious traffic.
The Templars were part of the church’s widespread dishonesty regarding fake miracles, and they had no qualms about increasing their wealth through tricks aimed at exploiting the ignorance and zeal of ordinary people. In 1204, it was announced that a statue of the Virgin in a convent near Damascus had become flesh, and that a miraculous liquid was oozing from it, reputed to wash away the sins of devoted pilgrims. Since the location was far away and the journey was fraught with danger, the knights of the Temple took it upon themselves to bring this miraculous liquid to the part of the coast still controlled by the Latins, helping pilgrims and significantly boosting the order’s coffers through this holy business.
Though, like all other proprietors in the Holy Land, the order of the Temple had been losers in consequence of the conquest of it by Saladin, their possessions in the West were so extensive that they hardly felt the loss. At this very time we find the number of their possessions of various kinds in Europe, stated at 7050, principally situated in France and in England. Their arrogance and luxury naturally kept pace with their wealth; and, though writers of the twelfth century, and even the Troubadours—the satirists of the age—always speak of the knights of the Temple with honour, there was a secret dislike of them gaining ground, especially with the clergy, in consequence of the great privileges granted to them by the bull Omne Datum Optimum, and the insolent manner in which these privileges were exercised.
Though, like all other landowners in the Holy Land, the order of the Temple lost out due to Saladin's conquest, their holdings in the West were so vast that they barely felt the loss. At that time, their various possessions in Europe were reported to number 7,050, mainly located in France and England. Their arrogance and luxury naturally matched their wealth; and while writers of the twelfth century, including the Troubadours—the satirists of the era—often spoke of the knights of the Temple with respect, there was a growing resentment towards them, especially among the clergy, due to the extensive privileges granted to them by the bull Omne Datum Optimum and the arrogant way these privileges were applied.
Accordingly we find, in the year 1208, the great[Pg 215] Innocent III. the most ambitious of popes, and one who was a steady friend to the order, under the necessity of passing the first public censure of them, and endeavouring to set, by authority, a limit to their excesses. In his epistle to the Master on this occasion, the holy father says that they abused the privilege of having mass celebrated in places which were under interdict, by causing their churches to be thrown open, and mass to be said every day, with loud ringing of bells, bearing the cross of Christ on their breast, but not caring to follow his doctrines, who forbids to give offence to any of the little ones who believe on him. He goes on to state that, following the doctrines of demons, they affixed the cross of their order on the breast of (i.e. affiliated) every kind of scoundrel, asserting that whoever, by paying two or three pence a year, became one of their fraternity, could not, even though interdicted, be deprived of Christian burial; and that hence, known adulterers, usurers, and others who were lying under sentence of interdict, were honourably interred in their cemeteries; "and thus they themselves, being captive to the devil, cease not to make captive the souls of the faithful, seeking to make alive those whom they know to be dead." The pontiff laments, that instead of, like religious men, using the world for the sake of God, they employed their religious character as a means of indulging in the pleasures of the world. Though, on account of these and such abuses, they deserved to be deprived of the privileges which had been conferred on them, the holy father will not proceed to extremity, relying on the exertions of the Master to effect a reformation.
Accordingly, in the year 1208, we find the great[Pg 215] Innocent III, the most ambitious of popes, who was a consistent ally of the order, facing the need to publicly reprimand them and trying to impose limits on their excesses by authority. In his letter to the Master on this occasion, the holy father states that they misused the privilege of holding mass in places under interdict by keeping their churches open and having mass said every day, with loud bell ringing, while displaying the cross of Christ on their chests, yet ignoring his teachings, which forbid causing offense to any of the little ones who believe in him. He continues by stating that, following the teachings of demons, they placed the cross of their order on the chests of every kind of scoundrel, claiming that anyone who paid two or three pence a year to join their fraternity could not, even when interdict, be denied a Christian burial. Because of this, known adulterers, usurers, and others under interdict were buried honorably in their cemeteries; "and thus they themselves, being held captive by the devil, do not cease to capture the souls of the faithful, seeking to bring to life those whom they know to be dead." The pontiff laments that instead of using the world for the sake of God like true religious men, they exploited their religious status to indulge in worldly pleasures. Although, because of these and similar abuses, they deserved to lose the privileges granted to them, the holy father will not go to extremes, trusting in the Master’s efforts to bring about reform.
In this epistle we have all the charges, which, as will hereafter appear, could be at any time brought with justice against the order, whose corruption[Pg 216] proceeded in the ordinary course of human nature, and no otherwise,—privileges and exemptions producing insolence and assumption, and wealth generating luxury and relaxation of morals. It was the lavish generosity of popes, princes, and nobles, that caused the ruin of the Templars.
In this letter, we have all the accusations that, as will be shown later, could justly be made against the order, whose corruption[Pg 216] followed the usual pattern of human behavior, and nothing more—privileges and exemptions leading to arrogance and entitlement, and wealth resulting in indulgence and a decline in morals. It was the excessive generosity of popes, princes, and nobles that led to the downfall of the Templars.
The Templars bore a distinguished part in the expedition to Egypt and siege of Damietta, in 1219, as the chief commander on that occasion was the papal legate, whose conduct, under show of obedience, they chiefly directed. But when, in 1228, the Emperor Frederic II., then under the sentence of the church, undertook the crusade which he had vowed, he found nothing but opposition and treachery from these staunch adherents of the pope. Considering the spirit of the age, their opposition is, perhaps, not so much to be blamed; but no principle will excuse the act of their writing to inform the Egyptian sultan of the plans of the emperor. The generous Moslem, instead of taking advantage of this treachery, sent the letter to Frederic, to the confusion of its authors. Frederic checked his indignation at the time, but on his return to Europe he took his satisfaction on those who were most guilty, and he seized the property of the order in Sicily and his Italian dominions. Though he was excommunicated again for so doing, Frederic persisted in his enmity both to them and the Hospitallers; and though, perhaps, the least given to superstition and illiberality of any man of his age, he did not disdain to make friendly intercourse with the Moslems a serious charge against them. "The haughty religion of the Templars," writes he, "reared on the pleasures of the native barons of the land, waxes wanton.... We know, on good authority, that sultans and their trains are received with pompous alacrity within the gates of the Temple, and that the[Pg 217] Templars suffer them to celebrate secular plays, and to perform their superstitious rites with invocation of Mahommet."
The Templars played an important role in the expedition to Egypt and the siege of Damietta in 1219. The main commander at that time was the papal legate, whose actions, while pretending to follow orders, were largely influenced by the Templars. However, when Emperor Frederick II, who was under church condemnation, launched the crusade he had promised in 1228, he faced nothing but betrayal and conflict from these loyal supporters of the pope. Given the attitudes of the time, their opposition might be somewhat understandable; however, there's no justification for them to inform the Egyptian sultan about the emperor's plans. The generous Muslim leader, instead of exploiting this betrayal, shared the letter with Frederick, embarrassing its authors. Frederick suppressed his anger initially, but upon returning to Europe, he took action against the most culpable, seizing the property of the order in Sicily and his Italian territories. Although he was excommunicated again for this, Frederick maintained his hostility toward them and the Hospitallers. While he was arguably one of the least superstitious and narrow-minded people of his era, he did not hesitate to criticize them for having friendly relations with Muslims. "The arrogant religion of the Templars," he wrote, "built on the indulgences of the local lords, has grown excessively extravagant... We have reliable information that sultans and their entourages are welcomed with excessive enthusiasm at the gates of the Temple, and that the Templars allow them to celebrate secular performances and engage in their superstitious rituals invoking Muhammad."
The hostility between the Templars and the Hospitallers still continued, though the Christian power was now nearly restricted to the walls of Acre. The Templars were in alliance with the prince of Damascus: the Hospitallers were the friends of the sultan of Egypt. The Templars extended their enmity against the emperor to the Teutonic knights, whom they deprived of their possessions in Syria. The appearance of a new enemy, however, brought concord for a time among them. The Turks of Khaurizm, on the east of the Caspian, were now in flight before the hordes of the Mongols, and 20,000 of their horsemen burst into the Holy Land. They took and plundered Jerusalem, which was unfortified and open, and then united themselves with the troops of Egypt. The Christians applied to the prince of Damascus for aid, who forthwith sent the required troops, and their combined forces went in quest of the foes. In the battle the Templars and the militia occupied the centre; the Hospitallers were posted on the left wing, the light horse on the right. The battle lasted two days, and ended in the total defeat of the Christians, a result which is ascribed, though probably with injustice, to the treachery of the Damascenes. The Master of the Temple and the whole chapter, with the knights, in all 300, were slain; only four knights and fourteen esquires escaped.
The hostility between the Templars and the Hospitallers continued, even though Christian power was mostly confined to the walls of Acre. The Templars had allied with the prince of Damascus, while the Hospitallers were on friendly terms with the sultan of Egypt. The Templars also extended their animosity towards the emperor to the Teutonic knights, taking away their possessions in Syria. However, the emergence of a new enemy temporarily brought them together. The Turks from Khaurizm, to the east of the Caspian, were now fleeing from the Mongol hordes, and 20,000 of their horsemen invaded the Holy Land. They captured and looted Jerusalem, which was unfortified and vulnerable, and then joined forces with the troops from Egypt. The Christians requested help from the prince of Damascus, who promptly sent the needed troops, and their combined forces went to confront the enemies. In the battle, the Templars and the infantry occupied the center; the Hospitallers were on the left wing, with the light cavalry on the right. The battle lasted two days and resulted in a complete defeat for the Christians, a outcome that is attributed, though likely unjustly, to the betrayal of the Damascenes. The Master of the Temple and the entire chapter, along with 300 knights, were killed; only four knights and fourteen squires managed to escape.
The improvident and needy Henry III. of England, in general such a dutiful son of the holy father, who, for a share of the spoil, usually aided him in the pious work of robbing his subjects, summoned courage in 1252 to speak of seizing some of the property of the church and the military orders. "You prelates and religious," said he, "especially you[Pg 218] Templars and Hospitallers, have so many liberties and charters, that your enormous possessions make you rave with pride and haughtiness. What was imprudently given, must be therefore prudently revoked; and what was inconsiderately bestowed must be considerately recalled.... I will break this and other charters which my predecessors and myself have rashly granted." But the prior of the Templars immediately replied, "What sayest thou, O king? Far be it that thy mouth should utter so disagreeable and silly a word. So long as thou dost exercise justice thou wilt reign; but if thou infringe it, thou wilt cease to be a king!" These bold words appear to have checked the feeble king, who next year besought the two orders to become his security for a large sum of money which he owed. They refused his request, and Henry thenceforth did them all the injury in his power.
The reckless and needy Henry III of England, generally a dutiful son of the Pope, who usually supported him in the holy task of exploiting his subjects for a share of the loot, found the courage in 1252 to propose seizing some of the church's and military orders' properties. "You bishops and religious leaders," he said, "especially you Templars and Hospitallers, have so many privileges and charters that your vast wealth makes you arrogant and proud. What was carelessly given must therefore be wisely taken back; and what was thoughtlessly granted must be thoughtfully recalled.... I will annul this and other charters that my predecessors and I have recklessly issued." But the prior of the Templars immediately responded, "What are you saying, O king? It would be outrageous for you to utter such an unpleasant and foolish word. As long as you uphold justice, you will reign; but if you violate it, you will stop being a king!" These bold words seemed to have subdued the weak king, who the following year asked the two orders to act as guarantors for a large sum of money he owed. They refused his request, and from then on, Henry caused them all the harm he could.
There occurred an event in Moravia in 1252, which may serve to show the power of the order in Europe. A nobleman, named Vratislaf, who had been obliged to fly from that country, became a Templar in France. He made over all his property, among which was the castle of Eichhorn in Moravia, to the order. But his elder brother, Burian, took possession of his property, as having fallen to himself as head of the family. King Winzel, on being applied to, decided in favour of the order. Burian, however, still kept possession. The next year the Templars collected some thousands of men, and marched, under the command of their Great Prior, to take the castle. Burian, assembling 6000 men, 900 of whom he placed in the castle, advanced to give them battle. The engagement was bloody; 1700 men, among them the Great Prior of the Templars, lay slain, when night terminated the conflict. A truce was made for three days, at the end of which Burian and his men[Pg 219] were driven into the castle, which they defended bravely, till king Attocar sent to threaten them with his wrath if they did not give it up. Burian surrendered it, and Vratislaf, returning to Moravia, became Prior of Eichhorn, in which thirty Templars took up their abode.
An event took place in Moravia in 1252 that highlights the power of the order in Europe. A nobleman named Vratislaf, who had to flee from the country, joined the Templars in France. He transferred all his property, including the castle of Eichhorn in Moravia, to the order. However, his older brother, Burian, seized his property, claiming it as the head of the family. When King Winzel was asked to intervene, he ruled in favor of the order. Yet, Burian still held on to the property. The following year, the Templars gathered thousands of men and marched under their Great Prior to capture the castle. Burian rallied 6000 men, with 900 stationed in the castle, and moved to confront them. The battle was intense; 1700 men, including the Great Prior of the Templars, were killed when night brought an end to the fighting. A truce was agreed upon for three days, after which Burian and his men were forced into the castle, where they defended themselves fiercely until King Attocar threatened them with his wrath if they didn't surrender. Burian capitulated, and Vratislaf returned to Moravia, becoming the Prior of Eichhorn, where thirty Templars took residence.
Though the Templars were so extremely numerous in Europe, they were little disposed to go out to the East to encounter toil and danger, in the performance of their duties. They preferred living in ease and luxury on their rich possessions in the West; and the members of the chapter alone, with a few knights, and other persons attached to the order, abode in Syria. It would even seem that the heads of the society were meditating a final retreat from the East, where they probably saw that nothing of permanent advantage was to be achieved. The Hospitallers, on the other hand, whatever may have been the cause, appear to have been more zealous in their calling, and to have had a greater number of their members in Syria; and it is, probably, to this cause, that we are to assign the total defeat which they were enabled to give their rivals in 1259: for the animosity between the orders had come to such a height, that, in this year, they came to open war. A bloody battle was fought, in which the Templars were defeated, when, such was the bitterness of their enmity, that the victors made no prisoners, but cut to pieces every Templar who fell into their hands, and scarce a Templar remained to carry the intelligence to Europe.
Although the Templars were very numerous in Europe, they were not very willing to head to the East to face hardship and danger while fulfilling their duties. They preferred to live comfortably and luxuriously on their wealthy lands in the West; only the members of the chapter, along with a few knights and others linked to the order, stayed in Syria. It even seemed that the leaders of the society were considering a complete withdrawal from the East, where they likely realized that no lasting benefits could be gained. In contrast, the Hospitallers, for reasons unknown, appeared to be more passionate about their mission and had a larger presence in Syria. This may explain the total defeat they inflicted on their rivals in 1259: the rivalry between the orders had escalated to the point of open conflict that year. A fierce battle was fought, resulting in the Templars' defeat, and due to the intense hatred between them, the victors took no prisoners, slaughtering every Templar who fell into their grasp, leaving hardly any Templar to report back to Europe.
From this period till the capture of Acre and final destruction of the Latin power in the East in 1291, after a continuance of nearly two centuries, the annals of the Templars are bare of events. The rivalry between them and the other orders still continued; and in the opinion of some historians, it was their jealousy that hastened the fall of that last remnant of[Pg 220] the Christian dominion in the East. Not more than ten knights of the Temple escaped in the storm of the town, and these, with the remnants of the other orders, and the garrison, sought a retreat in Cyprus.
From this time until the capture of Acre and the complete destruction of the Latin power in the East in 1291, which lasted nearly two centuries, the records of the Templars show very few significant events. The competition between them and the other orders continued; and some historians believe that their jealousy contributed to the fall of the last remnant of[Pg 220] Christian rule in the East. Only about ten knights of the Temple survived the siege of the town, and these, along with survivors from the other orders and the garrison, headed to Cyprus for refuge.
We have now traced the history of the order from its institution to within a few years of the period of its suppression. Of this most important event we shall delay the consideration for some time, and shall occupy the intervening space with an account of the internal organisation of the society, its officers, its wealth, and various possessions. This will, we trust, prove no slight contribution to our knowledge of one of the most curious portions of the history of the world—that of the middle ages—and gratify the reader by the display of manners and institutions which have long since passed away[78].
We have now traced the history of the order from its founding to just a few years before it was disbanded. We will hold off on discussing this major event for a while and instead focus on the internal structure of the society, its officers, its wealth, and various properties. We hope this provides valuable insight into one of the most fascinating parts of world history—the Middle Ages—and offers the reader a glimpse into customs and institutions that have long since disappeared.[78].
Chapter 5.
Classes of the Templars—The Knights—Their Qualifications—Mode of Reception—Dress and Arms of the Knight—Mode of Burial—The Chaplains—Mode of Reception—Dress—Duties and Privileges—The Serving-Brethren—Mode of Reception—Their Duties—The Affiliated—Causes and Advantages of Affiliation—The Donates and Oblates.
The founders of the order of the Templars were, as we have seen, knights; and they were the first who conceived the novel idea, and happy one, as we may call it in accordance with the sentiments of those times, of uniting in the same person the two characters held in highest estimation—the knight and the monk. The latter added sanctity to the former, the former gave dignity and consideration to the latter, in the eyes of a martial generation. Hence, the Templar naturally regarded himself as the first of men; and the proudest nobles of the Christian world esteemed it an honour to belong to the order. The knights were, therefore, the strength, the flower, the ornament of the society.
The founders of the Templar order were, as we've seen, knights; they were the first to come up with the innovative and, as we might say today, great idea of combining two of the most respected roles at that time—the knight and the monk. The monk brought a sense of holiness to the knight, while the knight gave the monk respect and value in the eyes of a warrior society. As a result, the Templar naturally viewed himself as the greatest of men, and the proudest nobles of the Christian world saw it as an honor to be part of the order. Thus, the knights were the strength, the pride, and the glory of the society.
The order of the Templars, when it was fully developed, consisted not of degrees, but of distinct and separate classes. These were the knights, the chaplains, and the serving-brethren; to which may be added the affiliated, the donates, and the oblates, or persons attached to the order without taking the vows.
The order of the Templars, once it was fully established, was made up not of degrees, but of different and separate classes. These included the knights, the chaplains, and the serving brothers; in addition, there were the affiliated, the donates, and the oblates, or individuals connected to the order without making vows.
I. The Knights.—Whoever presented himself to be received as a knight of the order must solemnly[Pg 222] aver that he was sprung from a knightly family, and that his father was or might have been a knight. He was further to prove, that he was born in lawful wedlock, for, like the church in general, the Templars excluded bastards from their society. In this rule there was prudence, though, possibly, it was merely established in accordance with the ideas of the time; for, had a king of France or an emperor of Germany been able to get his natural child into the order, and should he then have been chosen Master of it, as he probably would, it might have lost its independence, and become the mere tool of the monarch. The candidate was, moreover, to declare that he was free from all previous obligations; that he was neither married nor betrothed; had not made any vows, or received any consecration in another order; and that he was not involved in debt. He had finally to declare himself to be of a sound and healthy constitution, and free from disease. When the order was grown great and powerful, and candidates for admission were numerous and of the highest families, it became the custom to require the payment of a large fee on admission.
The Knights.—Anyone who wanted to be accepted as a knight of the order had to formally[Pg 222] claim that they came from a knightly family and that their father was, or could have been, a knight. They also needed to prove that they were born in lawful wedlock, as the Templars, like the church in general, excluded illegitimate children from their society. This rule made sense, perhaps reflecting the norms of the time; for if a king of France or an emperor of Germany had been able to get their illegitimate child into the order, and that child was then chosen as Master, the order might have lost its independence and become merely a tool of the monarchy. Furthermore, the candidate had to declare that they had no prior obligations; that they were neither married nor engaged; had not made any vows or received consecration in another order; and that they were not in debt. Finally, they had to affirm that they were in good health and free from disease. As the order grew strong and powerful, and as the number of candidates from prominent families increased, it became common to require a significant admission fee.
It was necessary that the candidate for admission among the knights of the Temple should already be a knight; for as knighthood was a secular honour, the order would have regarded it as derogating from its dignity if any of its members were to receive it. The Hospitallers and Teutonic knights thought differently, and with them the aspirant was knighted on his admission. If the candidate Templar, therefore, had not been knighted, he was obliged to receive knighthood, in the usual manner, from a secular knight, or a bishop, previous to taking his vows.
It was required that anyone seeking to join the knights of the Temple had to already be a knight, because since knighthood was a secular honor, the order would have seen it as diminishing its dignity if any of its members received it. The Hospitallers and Teutonic knights had a different view and would knight the candidate upon their admission. So, if a Templar candidate hadn't been knighted yet, he had to receive knighthood, in the usual way, from a secular knight or a bishop before taking his vows.
A noviciate forms an essential and reasonable part of the course of admission into the spiritual orders in general; for it is but right that a person should become, in some measure, acquainted with the rules and[Pg 223] duties of a society before he enters it. But, though the original rule of the Templars enjoined a noviciate, it was totally neglected in practice; a matter which was afterwards made one of the charges against the order. Perhaps there was in their case little necessity for this preparatory process; the Templars were so much in the world, and those who joined them had been in general so frequently among them, and were consequently so well acquainted with their mode of life, that they hardly required any such preliminary discipline to familiarize them with their duties. The neglect of the practice at the same time gave the Templars an advantage over the rival orders who enjoined it; for a young nobleman would, in all likelihood, feel most disposed to join the society into which he could be admitted at once; and perhaps no small part of the corruption of the Templars, in which they undoubtedly surpassed their rivals, may be ascribed to the facility which was thus afforded to unworthy persons entering among them.
A novitiate is an important and reasonable part of the admission process into spiritual orders overall; it's only fair that someone should be somewhat familiar with the rules and [Pg 223] duties of a group before joining it. However, even though the original rule for the Templars required a novitiate, it was completely ignored in practice—a point that was later used as a criticism against the order. There was likely little need for this preparatory process in their case; the Templars were very much part of society, and those who joined them had usually spent a lot of time with them and were therefore quite familiar with their way of life, making any kind of preliminary training unnecessary. This neglect also gave the Templars an edge over rival orders that enforced it; a young nobleman would probably be more inclined to join a group that accepted him right away. Additionally, a significant part of the Templars' corruption, where they certainly outperformed their competitors, can be attributed to the easy access it allowed to unworthy individuals within their ranks.
With respect to the age at which persons were admitted, it is plain, from the previously required reception of knighthood, that it must have been that of adolescence or manhood. All that is said by the statutes is, that no child could be received; and that the parents or relatives of a child destined to be a member of the order, should keep and breed him till he could manfully and with armed hand extirpate the enemies of Christ out of the land. This formed a marked distinction between the Templars and the mere religious orders, who, even at the present day, we believe, admit children, taking the charge of their rearing and education; whereas, children could only be destined to the order of the Temple, and could not be presented for admission, till able to bear arms, that is, usually in the twenty-first year of their age.[Pg 224]
In terms of the age at which individuals were admitted, it’s clear from the earlier requirement of knighthood that it had to occur during adolescence or adulthood. The statutes simply state that no child could be accepted, and that parents or relatives of a child intended to be a member of the order should keep and raise him until he could bravely and with a weapon drive out the enemies of Christ from the land. This set the Templars apart from regular religious orders, which, even today, we believe accept children and take responsibility for their upbringing and education; in contrast, children could only be chosen for the Order of the Temple and could not be presented for admission until they were able to bear arms, typically around the age of twenty-one.[Pg 224]
The reception of a knight took place in one of the chapels of the order, in presence of the assembled chapter. It was secret, not even the relatives of the candidate being allowed to be present. The ceremony commenced by the Master[79] or prior, who presided, saying, "Beloved brethren, ye see that the majority are agreed to receive this man as a brother. If there be any among you who knows any thing of him, on account of which he cannot lawfully become a brother, let him say it; for it is better that this should be signified beforehand than after he is brought before us."
The initiation of a knight took place in one of the order's chapels, in front of the gathered chapter. It was held in secret, with no family members of the candidate allowed to attend. The ceremony began with the Master[79] or prior, who presided, saying, "Dear brothers, you see that most of us agree to welcome this man as a brother. If any of you knows anything about him that would prevent him from lawfully becoming a brother, please speak up; it's better to bring this to light now than after he's presented to us."
The aspirant, if no objection was made, was then led into a chamber near the chapter-room; and two or three reputable knights of the oldest in the house were sent to lay before him what it was needful for him to know. They commenced by saying, "Brother, are you desirous of being associated to the order?" If he replied in the affirmative, they stated to him the whole rigour of the order. Should he reply that he was willing to endure everything for God's sake, and to be all his life long the servant and slave of the order, they asked him if he had a wife or was betrothed? if he had made profession or vows in any other order? if he owed to any man in the world more than he could pay? if he was of sound body, and had no secret infirmity, and if he was the servant of any one? Should his answers be in the negative, the brethren went back to the chapter and informed the Master or his representative of the result of the examination. The latter then asked once more, if any one knew any thing to the contrary. If all were silent, he said "Are you willing that he should be brought in in God's name?" The knights then[Pg 225] said, "Let him be brought in in God's name." Those who had been already with him then went out again, and asked him if he persisted in his resolution. If he said that he did, they instructed him in what he was to do when suing for admission. They then led him back to the chapter, where, casting himself on his knees, with folded hands, before the receptor, he said, "Sir, I am come, before God, and before you and the brethren, and pray and beseech you, for the sake of God and our dear Lady, to admit me into your society, and the good deeds of the order, as one who will be, all his life long, the servant and slave of the order." The receptor then replied, "Beloved brother, you are desirous of a great matter, for you see nothing but the outward shell of our order. It is only the outward shell when you see that we have fine horses and rich caparisons, that we eat and drink well, and are splendidly clothed. From this you conclude that you will be well off with us. But you know not the rigorous maxims which are in our interior. For it is a hard matter for you, who are your own master, to become the servant of another. You will hardly be able to perform, in future, what you wish yourself. For when you may wish to be on this side of the sea, you will be sent to the other side; when you will wish to be in Acre, you will be sent to the district of Antioch, to Tripolis, or to Armenia; or you will be sent to Apulia, to Sicily, or to Lombardy, or to Burgundy, France, England, or any other country where we have houses and possessions. When you will wish to sleep you will be ordered to watch; when you will wish to watch, then you will be ordered to go to bed; when you will wish to eat, then you will be ordered to do something else. And as both we and you might suffer great inconvenience from what you have, mayhap, concealed from us, look here[Pg 226] on the holy Evangelists and the word of God, and answer the truth to the questions which we shall put to you; for if you lie you will be perjured, and may be expelled the order, from which God keep you!"
The candidate, if no objections were raised, was then taken into a room close to the chapter house, and two or three respected knights from the oldest members of the order were sent to explain what he needed to know. They started by asking, "Brother, do you want to join the order?" If he answered yes, they explained the strict rules of the order. If he replied that he was willing to endure everything for the sake of God and to serve the order for life, they then asked him if he had a wife or a fiancée, if he had taken vows in any other order, if he owed anyone more than he could pay, if he was in good health without any secret ailments, and if he was serving anyone else. If he answered all these questions negatively, the brothers returned to the chapter and informed the Master or his representative about the outcome of the evaluation. The Master then asked again if anyone knew anything contrary. If no one spoke up, he asked, "Are you willing for him to be brought in in God's name?" The knights then said, "Let him be brought in in God's name." Those who had been with him stepped out again and asked if he still stood by his decision. If he said he did, they instructed him on what to do to formally request admission. They then took him back to the chapter, where he knelt down with his hands folded in front of the receiver and said, "Sir, I come before God, you, and the brethren, and I pray and ask you, for the sake of God and our dear Lady, to accept me into your community and the good works of the order, as one who will be, for the rest of my life, the servant and slave of the order." The receiver responded, "Beloved brother, you seek something great, but you see only the surface of our order. It may seem appealing when you see we have fine horses and rich trappings, that we eat and drink well, and wear splendid clothes. From this, you might conclude you will be comfortable with us. But you do not know the strict disciplines we follow internally. It will be challenging for someone who is their own master to become the servant of another. You will likely find it hard to do what you wish. When you want to be on one side of the sea, you’ll be sent to the other; when you wish to be in Acre, you might find yourself in Antioch, Tripoli, or Armenia; or you might be sent to Apulia, Sicily, Lombardy, Burgundy, France, England, or anywhere else we have homes or property. When you wish to sleep, you’ll be told to stay awake; when you want to keep watch, you’ll be told to go to bed; when you feel like eating, you may be ordered to do something else. And since either we or you could face significant issues from what you might be hiding, look here on the holy Gospels and the word of God, and answer truthfully to the questions we will ask you; because if you lie, you will commit perjury and could be expelled from the order, which God forbid!"
He was now asked over again, by the receptor, the same questions as before; and, moreover, if he had made any simoniacal contract with a Templar or any other for admission. If his answers proved satisfactory, the receptor proceeded, "Beloved brother, take good care that you have spoken the truth to us; for should you have spoken false in any one point, you might be put out of the order, from which God keep you! Now, beloved brother, attend strictly to what we shall say unto you. Do you promise to God, and our dear Lady Mary, to be, all your life long, obedient to the Master of the Temple, and to the prior who shall be set over you?"
He was questioned again by the interviewer, just as before, and asked if he had made any illegal agreements with a Templar or anyone else for admission. If his answers were acceptable, the interviewer continued, "Dear brother, make sure you have told us the truth; because if you have lied about even one thing, you could be expelled from the order, which may God prevent! Now, dear brother, pay close attention to what we are about to say to you. Do you promise God and our beloved Lady Mary to be obedient for the rest of your life to the Master of the Temple and to the prior who will be in charge of you?"
"Yea, Sir, with the help of God!"
"Yes, Sir, with God's guidance!"
"Do you promise to God, and our dear Lady Mary, to live chaste of your body all your life long?"
"Do you promise God, and our dear Lady Mary, to remain chaste with your body for your entire life?"
"Yea, Sir, with the help of God!"
"Yes, sir, with God's help!"
"Do you promise to God, and our dear Lady Mary, to observe, all your life long, the laudable manners and customs of our order, both those which are already in use, and those which the Master and knights may add?"
"Do you promise to God and our beloved Lady Mary to uphold, for the rest of your life, the commendable practices and traditions of our order, both those currently in place and any that the Master and knights may introduce?"
"Yea, Sir, with the help of God!"
"Yes, Sir, with God's guidance!"
"Do you promise to God, and our dear Lady Mary, that you will, with the strength and powers which God has bestowed on you, help, as long as you live, to conquer the Holy Land of Jerusalem; and that you will, with all your strength, aid to keep and guard that which the Christians possess?"
"Do you promise to God and our beloved Lady Mary that you will, with the strength and power that God has given you, help, for as long as you live, to reclaim the Holy Land of Jerusalem; and that you will, with all your strength, support and protect what the Christians have?"
"Yea, Sir, with the help of God!"
"Yes, Sir, with God's help!"
"Yea, Sir, with the help of God!"
"Yes, Sir, with God's help!"
"Do you finally promise to God, and our dear Lady Mary, never to be present when a Christian is unjustly and unlawfully despoiled of his heritage, and that you will never, by counsel or by act, take part therein?"
"Do you finally promise God and our dear Lady Mary that you will never be present when a Christian is unjustly and unlawfully robbed of his inheritance, and that you will never, through advice or action, be involved in it?"
"Yea, Sir, with the help of God!"
"Yeah, Sir, with God's help!"
"In the name, then, of God, and our dear Lady Mary, and in the name of St. Peter of Rome, and of our father the pope, and in the name of all the brethren of the Temple, we receive to all the good works of the order which have been performed from the beginning, and shall be performed to the end, you, your father, your mother, and all of your family whom you will let have share therein. In like manner do you receive us to all the good works which you have performed and shall perform. We assure you of bread and water, and the poor clothing of the order, and labour and toil enow."
"In the name of God, our dear Lady Mary, St. Peter of Rome, our father the pope, and all the members of the Temple, we welcome you, your father, your mother, and your entire family to share in all the good works of the order that have been done from the beginning and will continue to the end. Likewise, you welcome us to all the good works you have done and will do. We promise you bread and water, the simple clothing of the order, and plenty of labor and effort."
The Master then took the distinguishing habit of the order, namely, the white mantle with the red cross, and putting it about the neck of the candidate, clasped it firmly. The chaplain then repeated the 132d psalm, Ecce quam bonum, and the prayer of the Holy Ghost, Deus qui corda fidelium, and each brother repeated a Pater noster. The Master and the chaplain then kissed him on the mouth; and he sat down before the Master, who delivered to him a discourse, of which the following is the substance.
The Master then took the distinctive garment of the order, which was the white cloak with the red cross, and placed it around the candidate's neck, fastening it securely. The chaplain then recited the 132nd psalm, Ecce quam bonum, followed by the prayer to the Holy Spirit, Deus qui corda fidelium, and each brother said a Pater noster. The Master and the chaplain then kissed him on the lips; he took a seat in front of the Master, who gave him a speech, the essence of which is as follows.
He was not to strike or wound any Christian; not to swear; not to receive any service or attendance from a woman without the permission of his superiors; not on any account to kiss a woman, even if[Pg 228] she was his mother or his sister; to hold no child at the baptismal font, or be a god-father; to abuse no man or call him foul names; but to be always courteous and polite. He was to sleep in a linen shirt, drawers, and hose, and girded with a small girdle. He was to attend divine service punctually, and at table he was to commence and conclude with prayer; during the meal he was to preserve silence. When the Master died, he was, be he where he might, to repeat 200 Pater nosters for the repose of his soul.
He was not to hit or hurt any Christian; not to swear; not to accept any service or assistance from a woman without permission from his superiors; and under no circumstances was he to kiss a woman, even if[Pg 228] she was his mother or sister; he was not to hold any child at the baptismal font or be a godfather; he was not to mistreat anyone or call them bad names; instead, he should always be courteous and polite. He was to sleep in a linen shirt, pants, and stockings, wearing a simple belt. He was to attend religious services on time, and at the table, he was to start and end with a prayer; during the meal, he was to remain silent. When the Master died, no matter where he was, he was to recite 200 Pater nosters for the peace of his soul.
Each knight was supplied with clothes, arms, and equipments, out of the funds of the order. His dress was a long white tunic, nearly resembling that of priests in shape, with a red cross on the back and front of it; his girdle was under this, over his linen shirt. Over all he wore his white mantle with its red cross of four arms (the under one being the longest, so that it resembled that on which the Saviour suffered) on the left breast. His head was covered by a cap or a hood attached to his mantle. His arms were shield, sword, lance, and mace; and, owing to the heat of the East, and the necessity of activity in combats with the Turks and Saracens, his arms and equipments in general were lighter than those used by the secular knights. He was allowed three horses and an esquire, who was either a serving-brother of the order or some layman who was hired for the purpose. At times this office was performed by youths of noble birth, whom their parents and relatives gladly placed in the service of distinguished knights of the Temple, that they might have an opportunity of acquiring the knightly virtues; and these often became afterwards members of the order.
Each knight was provided with clothing, weapons, and equipment from the order's funds. His outfit consisted of a long white tunic, similar in shape to that of priests, featuring a red cross on the front and back; his belt was worn beneath this, over his linen shirt. Over everything, he wore a white mantle adorned with a red cross with four arms (the bottom one being the longest, resembling the one on which the Savior suffered) on the left side of his chest. His head was covered by a cap or hood attached to his mantle. His weapons included a shield, sword, lance, and mace; due to the heat of the East and the need for agility in battles against the Turks and Saracens, his gear was generally lighter than that of secular knights. He was permitted three horses and an esquire, who was either a serving-brother of the order or a layman hired for this role. Sometimes, this position was filled by young men of noble birth, whose families eagerly placed them in the service of distinguished knights of the Temple so they could learn knightly virtues; many of these youths later became members of the order.

Costume of Knight Templar.
When a knight had become, from age or wounds, incapable of service, he took up his abode in one of the temple-houses, where he lived in ease, and was treated with the utmost respect and consideration. These [Pg 230] emeriti knights are frequently mentioned under the name of Prodomes (Good men); they were present at all deliberations of importance; and their experience and knowledge of the rules of the order were highly prized and attended to.
When a knight became unable to serve due to age or injuries, he moved into one of the temple houses, where he lived comfortably and was treated with great respect and consideration. These [Pg 230] retired knights are often referred to as Prodomes (Good men); they participated in all significant discussions, and their experience and understanding of the rules of the order were highly valued and respected.
When the Templar died, he was placed in a coffin in his habit, and with his legs crossed, and thus buried. Masses were said for his soul; his arms and clothes were partly given back to the marshal or draper of the order—partly distributed among the poor.
When the Templar died, he was laid in a coffin in his robes, with his legs crossed, and buried that way. Masses were held for his soul; his arms and clothing were partly returned to the marshal or draper of the order—partly given to the poor.
II. The Chaplains.—The order of the Templars, being purely military in its commencement, consisted then solely of laymen. That of the Hospital, on the contrary, on account of its office of attending the sick, had, necessarily, priests in it from its origin. This advantage of the latter society excited the jealousy of the Templars, and they were urgent with the popes to be allowed a similar privilege. But the pontiffs were loth to give offence to the oriental prelates, already displeased at the exemption from their control granted in this case to the Hospitallers; and it was not till the year 1162, that is, four years after the founding of the order, when their great favourer, Alexander III., occupied the papal throne, that the Templars attained their object.
II. The Chaplains.—The Templars started out as a purely military order and consisted only of laymen. In contrast, the Hospital, due to its mission of caring for the sick, included priests from the very beginning. This advantage of the Hospitallers led to jealousy among the Templars, who pushed the popes to grant them the same privilege. However, the pontiffs were hesitant to upset the Eastern bishops, who were already unhappy about the exemption from their control given to the Hospitallers. It wasn't until 1162, four years after the order was founded, when their strong supporter, Alexander III., was pope, that the Templars finally achieved their goal.

Knights in Temple Church, London.

Effigies of Knights in Temple Church.
The bull, Omne Datum Optimum, issued on this occasion, gave permission to the Templars to receive into their houses spiritual persons, in all countries, who were not bound by previous vows. If they were clergy of the vicinity, they were to ask them of the bishop; and if he refused his consent, they were empowered, by the bull, to receive them without it. The clergy of the Temple were to perform a noviciate of a year—a practice which, as in the case of the knights, was dispensed with in the days of the power and corruption of the order. The reception of the clergy was the same as that of the knights, with the omission[Pg 233] of such questions as did not apply to them. They were only required to take the three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. The ritual of their reception was in Latin, and was almost precisely the same with that of the Benedictines. Like that of the knights, their reception was secret. When the psalms had been sung the Master put on the recipient the dress of the order and the girdle, and, if he was a priest, the cap called baret.
The papal bull, Omne Datum Optimum, issued on this occasion, allowed the Templars to welcome spiritual people into their homes across all countries, as long as they weren’t already bound by previous vows. If these individuals were local clergy, they were to seek permission from the bishop, and if he denied consent, the bull gave them the right to accept them anyway. The Templar clergy were to undergo a year-long novitiate—a practice that was overlooked during the times of the order's power and corruption, similar to the knights. The process for receiving the clergy was the same as for the knights, except that irrelevant questions were omitted[Pg 233]. They only needed to take the three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. The ceremony for their reception was conducted in Latin and was nearly identical to that of the Benedictines. Like the knights, their reception was kept secret. After the psalms were sung, the Master dressed the recipient in the order's outfit and girdle, and if the individual was a priest, he was given the cap known as baret.
The habit of the chaplains of the order was a white close-fitting tunic, with a red cross on the left breast. Though, according to the statutes, they were to have the best clothes in the order, they were not permitted to assume the white mantle as long as they were mere priests. But should one of them, as was not unfrequently the case, arrive at the episcopal dignity, he was, if desirous of it, cheerfully granted that privilege. It was a further distinction between the knights and the chaplains, that the former wore their beards, while the latter were close-shaven. The chaplains were also to wear gloves, out of respect to the body of the Lord.
The chaplains of the order wore a tight-fitting white tunic with a red cross on the left side of their chest. Although the rules stated that they should have the finest clothes in the order, they weren't allowed to wear the white mantle as long as they were just priests. However, if one of them, which happened often, achieved the rank of bishop, they were happily given that privilege if they wanted it. Another distinction between the knights and the chaplains was that the knights wore beards, while the chaplains were clean-shaven. The chaplains were also required to wear gloves, out of respect to the body of the Lord.
All who had received the first tonsure were eligible to the office of chaplain to the order. When those who were only sub-deacons and deacons were to be raised to the rank of priests, the Master or his deputy sent them with letters dimissory to a bishop of the vicinity, who was bound to confer the required order.
All who received the first tonsure were eligible for the position of chaplain in the order. When those who were only sub-deacons and deacons were to be promoted to the rank of priests, the Master or his deputy sent them with letters of dismissal to a nearby bishop, who was obligated to grant the required order.
The clergy were, like all other members of the order, bound to obey the Master and the chapter. The Master and the chief officers of the order had always chaplains in their train to celebrate mass and other religious offices, as also to act as secretaries, the knights being in general as illiterate as their secular brethren. It was by this last office that the chaplains acquired their chief influence in the society; mind and superior[Pg 234] knowledge vindicating, as they always do, their natural rights. For though it was specially provided that the clergy should take no share in the government of the society without being invited thereto by their superiors, the opinion of the secretary was naturally taken in general, and if he was a man of sense and talent, it was most commonly followed[81].
The clergy were, like everyone else in the order, required to obey the Master and the chapter. The Master and the top officers of the order always had chaplains with them to perform mass and other religious duties, as well as to serve as secretaries, since the knights were generally as uneducated as their secular counterparts. It was through this role that the chaplains gained their main influence in the society; their intellect and superior knowledge often justified their natural rights. Although it was specifically stated that the clergy should not participate in the society's governance unless invited by their superiors, the opinion of the secretary was typically sought, and if he was sensible and talented, it was usually respected.
The duties of the clergy of the order were nearly the same as those of monks in general. They performed all religious offices, and officiated at all the ceremonies of the order, such as the admission of members, the installation of a Master, &c. Their privileges were very unimportant; they had merely the best clothes, sat next the Master in the chapter and in the refectory, and were first served at table; when they committed any offence, they were also more lightly punished than others. They could, however, if it so pleased the heads of the order, arrive at high rank in it; and we find that they were not unfrequently among the preceptors. The attorney-general of the order at Rome, who was always a person of considerable importance, was most probably a priest of the order; at least we know that Peter de Bononia, the last of them, was such.
The responsibilities of the clergy in the order were almost the same as those of monks in general. They handled all religious services and officiated at all the ceremonies of the order, including the admission of new members, the installation of a Master, etc. Their privileges were quite minor; they simply wore the best clothes, sat next to the Master in the chapter and in the dining hall, and were served first at meals. When they made mistakes, they were usually punished less harshly than others. However, if it suited the leaders of the order, they could rise to high positions within it; and it wasn't uncommon for them to be among the instructors. The attorney-general of the order in Rome, who was always a significant figure, was most likely a priest of the order; at least we know that Peter de Bononia, the last one, was.
It is worthy of notice, that even in the most flourishing period of the order it never had a sufficient number of chaplains, and was always obliged to have recourse to the ministry of secular priests. The causes of this were probably the circumstance of the order having attained its full form and consistency long before the clergy formed a part of it, and they consequently had not an opportunity of arranging it so as[Pg 235] to give themselves their due share of power and importance. It must have been galling to the pride of those who were used to rule, obeying only their spiritual superiors, to find themselves subject to the command of mere laymen, as they esteemed the knights of the order. Further, though they shared in the good things of the order and enjoyed the advantage of the consideration in which it stood, yet they had no dignities to look forward to; whereas an entrance into a Benedictine order held out to the ambitious a prospect of rich priories, abbacies, and bishoprics, and, at the least, a voice in the chapter. It may well be supposed that the pride of the knights of the Temple refused to admit into their society such persons as those who afterwards joined the mendicant orders—peasants and others who preferred a life of ease and idleness to the labours of the plough and the workshop. The number consequently of those who presented themselves for admission was small. But the knights felt no disadvantage thereby; enow of secular priests were to be had, who were willing to have the master of the Temple as their ordinary, and to share in the good things of the order, and as neither party was bound to the other, they could easily part if they disagreed.
It's worth noting that even during the order's most successful times, they never had enough chaplains and always had to rely on secular priests. This was likely because the order had become fully established long before the clergy became part of it, so they didn't have the chance to organize it in a way that would ensure their share of power and significance. It must have been frustrating for those used to being in charge, only answering to their spiritual leaders, to find themselves under the authority of laypeople, whom they considered the knights of the order. Although they benefited from the order's privileges and enjoyed its standing, they had no titles to aspire to. In contrast, joining a Benedictine order promised ambitious individuals the possibility of wealthy priories, abbeys, and bishoprics, and at the very least, a voice in the chapter. It's easy to imagine that the pride of the Knights Templar kept them from welcoming into their ranks people who later joined the mendicant orders—like peasants and others who chose a life of comfort over hard work. As a result, few individuals sought admission. However, the knights felt no loss; there were plenty of secular priests willing to make the master of the Temple their ordinary and share in the order's benefits, and since neither party was obligated to the other, they could part ways easily if they had disagreements.
III. The Serving-brethren. The order, consisting at first of only knights and men of noble birth, had no serving-brethren in it. The knights probably found esquires for a limited time among those who fought under their banner and received their pay. The Hospitallers seem to have set the example of introducing into the order the class of serving-brethren, which is not to be found with the Templars till some time after the council of Troyes. The advantage of this alteration was very apparent. Hitherto only knights and nobles were interested in the fate of the society to which their relatives belonged; the regards of burghers and[Pg 236] traders would now be obtained by the formation of this class, to admission into which their sons and brothers were eligible. They felt themselves honoured by their relatives coming into contact with knights, and were therefore liberal in the admission-fee and in other contributions to the quêtes of the order.
III. The Serving Brothers. The order, which initially included only knights and noblemen, did not have any serving-brethren. The knights likely found esquires for a limited time among those who fought under their banner and received their pay. The Hospitallers seem to have led the way in introducing the class of serving-brethren into the order, a practice that wasn’t adopted by the Templars until some time after the council of Troyes. The benefits of this change were clear. Until then, only knights and nobles had a stake in the fate of the society their relatives belonged to; now, the interests of burghers and[Pg 236] traders could also be appealed to by creating this class, allowing their sons and brothers to be eligible for membership. They felt honored when their relatives interacted with knights, which motivated them to contribute generously to the admission fee and other contributions to the quêtes of the order.
We should be wrong in supposing the serving-brethren to have been all persons of mean birth. The high consideration in which the order stood induced many men of wealth, talent, and valour, but who were not of noble birth, to join it. We thus find among the serving-brethren William of Arteblay, almoner to the king of France; Radulf de Gisi, collector of the taxes in Champagne; John de Folkay, an eminent lawyer. Bartholomew Bartholet gave property to the amount of 1,000 livres Tournois to be admitted; William of Liege gave 200 livres Tournois a year. The serving-brother, indeed, could never arrive at the dignity of knight (for which he was disqualified by birth), and consequently never exercise any of the higher offices of the order, but in other respects he enjoyed the same advantages and privileges as the knights and priests.
We'd be wrong to think that all the serving-brethren came from lowly backgrounds. The high regard for the order attracted many men of wealth, talent, and courage, even if they weren't of noble birth. Among the serving-brethren, we find William of Arteblay, the king of France's almoner; Radulf de Gisi, the tax collector in Champagne; and John de Folkay, a prominent lawyer. Bartholomew Bartholet donated property worth 1,000 livres Tournois to be accepted; William of Liege contributed 200 livres Tournois each year. Although a serving-brother could never achieve the rank of knight (since he was disqualified by birth) and therefore could not hold any of the higher offices in the order, he still enjoyed the same benefits and privileges as the knights and priests in other respects.
The reception of the serving-brethren was the same as that of the two higher classes, the necessary difference being made in the questions which were asked. As the order would receive no slave into their body, the candidate was required to aver that he was a free-born man: he was moreover obliged to declare that he was not a knight. This last condition may cause surprise, but it was probably justified by experience, as it is not unlikely that evil may have been felt or apprehended from men of noble birth, out of humility, or by way of atoning for the sins of their youth, or from some other of the causes which might operate on the minds of superstitious men, or even from poverty, if, as is likely, the admission-fee was lower for[Pg 237] a serving-brother than for a knight, concealing their birth, and entering the order as serving-brethren. As the more disagreeable duties of the order probably fell to their share, the general duties and obligations were laid before them in stronger and more explicit terms than were thought necessary in the case of knights and priests.
The reception of the serving brothers was similar to that of the two higher classes, with the necessary differences in the questions asked. Since the order did not accept any slaves, candidates were required to confirm that they were free-born. They also had to declare that they were not knights. This last requirement may seem surprising, but it was likely based on experience, as people may have seen or feared potential issues from men of noble birth, either out of humility, as a way to make up for their youthful mistakes, or for other reasons that could affect the minds of superstitious individuals. Additionally, if the admission fee was indeed lower for a serving brother than for a knight, it’s possible that some concealed their origins and joined the order as serving brothers. Since the more unpleasant duties of the order likely fell to them, the general responsibilities and obligations were presented to them in a clearer and more direct manner than what was considered necessary for knights and priests.
In the times of the poverty of the order, the clothing of the serving-brethren was the cast-off garments of the knights. But this custom did not long continue, and as some abuses arose from all the members of the order being clad in white, the serving-brethren were appointed to wear black or brown kirtles, with the red cross upon them, to indicate that they belonged to the order. In battle, their arms were nearly the same as those of the knights, but of a lighter kind, as they had frequently to jump down from their horses, and fight on foot. A serving-brother was allowed but one horse by the order, but the Master was empowered to lend him another if he thought it expedient, which horse was to be afterwards returned.
In the time of the order's poverty, the clothing of the serving brothers came from the discarded garments of the knights. However, this practice didn't last long, and since issues arose from all members of the order wearing white, the serving brothers were designated to wear black or brown tunics with a red cross on them to show they belonged to the order. In battle, their weapons were similar to those of the knights, but lighter, as they often had to jump off their horses and fight on foot. A serving brother was allowed only one horse according to the order, but the Master could lend him another if he deemed it necessary, which was to be returned afterward.
The serving-brethren were originally all of one kind; they fought in the field; they performed the menial offices in the houses of the order; but, in after-times, we find them divided into two classes—the brethren-in-arms (Frères servons des armes), and the handicraft-brethren (Frères servons des mestiers). These last, who were the least esteemed of the two, dwelt in the houses and on the lands of the order, exercising their various trades, or looking after the property of the society. We read in the statutes of the smiths and bakers of the order, and we hear of preceptors (as was the phrase) of the mares, cows, swine, &c. of the order. These handicraft-brethren practised the usual religious duties of the order, and were even allowed to be present at chapters. The[Pg 238] farrier, who was also armourer, enjoyed a much higher degree of consideration than the other handicraft-brethren, for this profession was highly prized by the martial generation of the middle ages[82].
The serving brothers were originally all the same; they fought in battle and did the menial tasks in the houses of the order. However, over time, they became divided into two classes—the brothers-in-arms (Frères servons des armes) and the craft brothers (Frères servons des mestiers). The latter, who were seen as less prestigious, lived in the houses and on the lands of the order, practicing their various trades or managing the society's property. We see references to the statutes of the smiths and bakers of the order, and we hear about preceptors (as they were called) of the mares, cows, pigs, etc. of the order. These craft brothers performed the usual religious duties of the order and were even allowed to attend chapters. The[Pg 238] farrier, who was also an armorer, held a much higher status than the other craft brothers, as this profession was highly valued by the warrior class of the Middle Ages[82].
The other class were more highly regarded. The knights associated with them on a footing of equality. They ate in the same refectory with the knights and priests, although at separate tables, and with always one dish less than the higher classes. They were, however, strictly subordinate to the knights; the master and all the great officers of the order had each several serving-brethren to attend him, and each knight had some of the serving-brethren among his esquires. The statutes provided carefully against their being tyrannized over or otherwise ill-treated by the knights.
The other class was held in higher regard. The knights interacted with them on equal terms. They dined in the same dining hall as the knights and priests, though at separate tables, and always had one less dish than the higher classes. However, they were still strictly subordinate to the knights; the master and all the high-ranking officers of the order had several serving-brethren to assist them, and each knight had some serving-brethren among his squires. The rules were carefully set to protect them from being bullied or mistreated by the knights.
The statutes make a distinction between the serving-brethren who were armed with iron and those who were not. The former were the proper light-horse of the order; they were chiefly intended to support the knights in the action, and were usually placed in the second rank. The place of the unarmed was with the baggage; and as they were exposed to little danger, they wore only linen corslets. The others were enjoined to fight, without flinching, as long as a Christian banner flew on the field: it was matter of praise to these last if they managed to come safe out of the fight. When the troops of the Temple were on their march, the esquires rode before the knights with their baggage. When the knights were going to action, one esquire rode before each with his lance, another behind with his war-horse.
The laws differentiate between the armed serving brothers and the unarmed ones. The armed brothers were the true light cavalry of the order; their main role was to support the knights during battles, and they typically held the second rank. The unarmed brothers stayed with the baggage and faced little danger, so they only wore linen shirts. The armed ones were expected to fight bravely as long as a Christian banner was visible on the battlefield; it was commendable for them to safely make it out of the fight. When the Temple troops were marching, the squires rode ahead of the knights with their baggage. When the knights prepared for battle, one squire rode in front of each knight with a lance, while another rode behind with a war horse.
There were various offices in the society, hereafter to be noticed, which were appropriated to the serving-brethren, or to which they were eligible.[Pg 239]
There were several offices in the society, which will be discussed later, that were designated for the serving brethren, or to which they were eligible.[Pg 239]
The knights, the chaplains, and the serving-brethren, were the proper members of the order, and it is to them alone that the name Templars applies. But both the Templars and the Hospitallers devised a mode of attaching secular persons to their interest, and of deriving advantages from their connexion with them, in which they were afterwards imitated by the mendicant orders of the Franciscans and Dominicans; the Jesuits also, who were always so keen at discerning what might be for the advantage of their society, adopted it; and it is, we believe, still practised in Catholic countries. This system is styled affiliation.
The knights, chaplains, and serving brothers were the rightful members of the order, and the title Templars applies only to them. However, both the Templars and the Hospitallers developed a way to connect with laypeople and benefit from their association, a practice later copied by the mendicant orders of the Franciscans and Dominicans. The Jesuits, known for their ability to spot advantages for their organization, also adopted this approach, which we believe is still used in Catholic countries. This system is called affiliation.
The affiliated were persons of various ranks in society, and of both sexes, who, without giving up their secular mode of life, or wearing any peculiar habit, joined the order, with a view to the advantages, both spiritual and temporal, which they expected to derive from it. These advantages will appear to have been very considerable when we recollect that all who joined the order were admitted to a share in the merits of its good works, which were what those times esteemed of the highest order. Nothing could have more contributed to the extent of affiliation than the exemption which the Templars enjoyed from the effects of interdict. At a time when it was in the power of every bishop to lay entire towns under this formidable sentence it must have been highly consolatory to pious or superstitious minds to belong to a society who disregarded this spiritual thunder, and who could afford them an opportunity of at least occasionally hearing mass and receiving the sacraments, and secured them, if they should die while the interdict continued, the advantage of Christian burial. In those days also, when club-law prevailed so universally, and a man's safety depended not so much on his innocence or the justice of his cause as on the[Pg 240] strength of his party, it was a matter of no small consequence to belong to so powerful a body as the Templars, and it must have been highly gratifying to both the secular and spiritual pride of a lawyer or a burgher to be a member of the same body with the high-born soldier-monks of the Temple.
The affiliated were people of various ranks in society and of both genders who, without abandoning their everyday lives or wearing any specific uniforms, joined the order to gain the spiritual and worldly benefits they expected from it. These advantages were significant, especially considering that everyone who joined the order shared in the merits of its good works, which were highly valued at that time. The extent of people joining was greatly influenced by the Templars' exemption from the consequences of interdict. At a time when any bishop could impose this severe punishment on entire towns, it must have been very reassuring for devout or superstitious individuals to be part of a group that disregarded this spiritual threat, offering them a chance to occasionally attend mass and receive sacraments, and ensuring that if they died while the interdict was in place, they would still have a Christian burial. Back then, when might often ruled over justice, and a person’s safety depended more on their affiliations than on their innocence or the righteousness of their cause, belonging to a powerful organization like the Templars carried significant weight. It must have been very satisfying for both lawyers and merchants to be associated with the esteemed soldier-monks of the Temple.
These important advantages were not conceded by the Templars without equivalent considerations. This ambitious and covetous order required that he who sought the honor of affiliation with them should, besides taking the three vows, pledge himself to lead a reputable life, to further the interests of the order to the best of his power, and leave it the entire of his property at his death. If he was married, and died before his wife, he might leave her a competent provision for life; but from the day of his admission into the order he was to abstain from her bed, though he might continue to reside in the same house with her; for were he to have children, he might provide for them to the disadvantage of the order, or on his death they might give trouble to it by claiming his property. For a similar reason the affiliated were forbidden to be sponsors, lest they might covertly or openly give some of their property to their godchildren. They were not even permitted to give offerings to the clergy. If they dared to violate these injunctions, a severe punishment—in general, confinement for life—awaited them.
These significant advantages weren't given up by the Templars without something in return. This ambitious and greedy order demanded that anyone who wanted to join them not only take the three vows but also commit to living a respectable life, promoting the order's interests as best as they could, and leaving all their property to the order upon their death. If he was married and passed away before his wife, he could leave her enough to live on for life; however, from the day he joined the order, he was to refrain from sharing a bed with her, even though they could still live in the same house. This was because if he had children, they might end up providing for them at the expense of the order, or upon his death, they could cause issues by claiming his property. For the same reason, members were not allowed to be godparents, as they might secretly or openly pass on some of their property to their godchildren. They weren't even allowed to make offerings to the clergy. If they chose to break these rules, they faced serious consequences—typically life imprisonment.
All orders of men were ambitious of a union with this honourable and powerful society. We find among the affiliated both sovereign princes and dignified prelates: even the great Pope Innocent III., in one of his bulls, declares himself to stand in this relation to the order. Many of the knights who dwelt with the Templars, and fought under their banner, were also affiliated, and the history of the order more than once makes mention of the sisters—that is, women[Pg 241] who were affiliated to it, for there were no nuns of the Temple similar to those of the order of Malta in later times.
All groups of people wanted to join this respected and powerful organization. We see both kings and high-ranking church officials among its members: even Pope Innocent III declared his connection to the order in one of his official documents. Many knights who lived with the Templars and fought for them were affiliated as well, and the history of the order often mentions the sisters—which refers to women[Pg 241] who were associated with it, as there were no nuns of the Temple like those from the order of Malta in later years.
In less intimate connexion with the order than the affiliated stood those who were styled Donates and Oblates. These were persons who, as their titles denote, were given or presented to the order. They were either children whom their parents or relations destined to the service of the order when they should have attained a sufficient age, or they were full-grown persons who pledged themselves to serve the order as long as they lived without reward, purely out of reverence to it, and with a view to enjoying its protection, and sharing in its good works. Persons of all ranks, princes and priests, as well as others, were to be found among the oblates of the Temple.
In a less close connection to the order than the affiliated, there were those referred to as Donates and Oblates. These were individuals who, as their names suggest, were given or dedicated to the order. They were either children whom their parents or relatives intended for service in the order once they reached a suitable age, or they were adults who committed themselves to serve the order for life, without any reward, purely out of respect for it, looking to benefit from its protection and participate in its good works. People of all backgrounds, including princes and priests, could be found among the oblates of the Temple.
Chapter 6.
Provinces of the Order—Eastern Provinces—Jerusalem—Houses of this Province—Tripolis—Antioch—Cyprus—Western Provinces—Portugal—Castile and Leon—Aragon—France and Auvergne—Normandy—Aquitaine—Provence—England—Germany—Upper and Central Italy—Apulia and Sicily.
We have thus seen what a number of persons of all ranks were more or less intimately connected with the order of the Temple, and how powerful its influence must have been throughout the Christian world. To enable the reader to form some conception of its wealth and power, we shall, previous to explaining its system of internal regulation, give a view of its possessions in various countries.
We have seen how many people from all walks of life were more or less closely linked to the Order of the Temple, and how significant its influence must have been across the Christian world. Before explaining its internal regulations, we will provide an overview of its wealth and power by looking at its possessions in different countries.
The extensive possessions of the order of the Temple, in Asia and in Europe, were divided into provinces, each containing numerous preceptories or temple-houses, and each under its appointed governor. These provinces may be classified under the heads of Eastern and Western.
The large holdings of the Order of the Temple, both in Asia and Europe, were divided into provinces, each with several preceptories or temple houses, and each managed by a designated governor. These provinces can be categorized as Eastern and Western.
The eastern provinces of the order were,—
The eastern provinces of the order were,—
I. Jerusalem.—This province was always regarded as the ruling one; the chief seat and capital of the order. The Master and chapter resided here as long as the Holy City was in the hands of the Christians. This being the province which was first established, its regulations and organization served as a model for all others. Its provincial Master, or, as he was styled, the Preceptor of the Land and Kingdom[Pg 243] of Jerusalem, took precedence of all others of the same rank.
I. Jerusalem.—This province was always seen as the primary one; the main seat and capital of the order. The Master and chapter lived here as long as the Holy City was controlled by Christians. Being the first established province, its rules and organization served as a blueprint for all the rest. Its provincial Master, or as he was called, the Preceptor of the Land and Kingdom[Pg 243] of Jerusalem, was the highest-ranking among all others of the same position.
The bailiwicks, or commanderies, in this province, were,—
The bailiwicks, or commanderies, in this province were,—
1. The Temple of Jerusalem, the cradle of the order, and the original residence of the Master and the chapter.
1. The Temple of Jerusalem, the birthplace of the order, and the original home of the Master and the chapter.
2. Chateau Pélerin, or the Pilgrim's Castle, renowned in the history of the crusades. This castle was built by the Templars in 1217, in order that it might be their chief seat after the loss of Jerusalem. It was situated on the east side of Mount Carmel, which runs out into the sea between Caipha and Cæsarea. The Templars had long had a tower at a pass of this mountain, called Destruction, or the Tower of the Pass, for the defence of pilgrims against the robbers who lurked in the gorges of the mountains. They were aided in building the castle, which was also designed to be a defence to Acre, by Walter D'Avesnes and by the German knights and pilgrims who were at that time in the Holy Land, and hence, perhaps, they called it Chateau Pélerin. The Cardinal de Vitry, who was at that time bishop of Acre, thus describes it. It was built on the promontory, three sides of which were washed by the sea. As they were sinking the foundation, they came to two walls of ancient masonry, and to some springs of remarkably pure water; they also found a quantity of ancient coins with unknown inscriptions, given, as the bishop piously deems, by God to his beloved sons and warriors, to alleviate the toil and expense which they were at. The place had probably been fortified in former times by the Jews or the Romans. The builders raised two huge towers of large masses of rock on the landward side, each 100 feet high, and 74 broad; these were united by a lofty wall, broad enough at its summit for[Pg 244] an armed knight to stand at his ease upon it. It had a parapet and battlements, with steps leading up to them. In the space within this wall were a chapel, a palace, and several houses, with fish-ponds, salt-works, woods, meads, gardens, and vineyards. Lying at a distance of six miles from Mount Tabor, it commanded the interjacent plain and the sea-coast to Acre. There the Master and the chapter took up their final abode, after having dwelt from 1118 to 1187 at Jerusalem, from 1187 to 1191 at Antioch, and from this last year till 1217 at Acre. "The chief use," says D'Vitry, "of this edifice is, that the whole chapter of the Templars, withdrawn from the sinful city of Acre, which is full of all impurity, will reside under the protection of this castle till the walls of Jerusalem are rebuilt." A prophecy never to be fulfilled! On the fall of Acre, in 1291, Chateau Pélerin was abandoned by the knights, and its walls were levelled by the infidels.
2. Château Pélerin, or the Pilgrim's Castle, is well-known in the history of the Crusades. This castle was built by the Templars in 1217 to serve as their main base after losing Jerusalem. It was located on the east side of Mount Carmel, which extends into the sea between Caipha and Caesarea. The Templars had long maintained a watchtower at a mountain pass called Destruction, or the Tower of the Pass, to protect pilgrims from robbers hiding in the mountain gorges. They received help in building the castle, which was also meant to defend Acre, from Walter D'Avesnes and from the German knights and pilgrims who were in the Holy Land at that time, which may be why it was named Château Pélerin. The Cardinal de Vitry, who was the bishop of Acre at that time, described it as being built on a promontory, with three sides washed by the sea. While sinking the foundation, they discovered two ancient walls and some remarkably pure springs; they also found many ancient coins with unknown inscriptions, which the bishop piously believed were given by God to help His beloved sons and warriors with their efforts and expenses. The site had likely been fortified earlier by the Jews or Romans. The builders raised two massive towers with large stone blocks on the landward side, each standing 100 feet tall and 74 feet wide; these towers were connected by a high wall wide enough at the top for[Pg 244] an armed knight to comfortably stand on. It had a parapet and battlements, with steps leading up to them. Inside this wall, there were a chapel, a palace, and several houses, along with fish ponds, salt works, woods, meadows, gardens, and vineyards. Located six miles from Mount Tabor, it overlooked the plain and the coastline leading to Acre. There, the Master and the chapter established their final residence after living in Jerusalem from 1118 to 1187, then in Antioch from 1187 to 1191, and from that last year until 1217 in Acre. "The main purpose," says D'Vitry, "of this building is that the entire chapter of the Templars, moving away from the sinful city of Acre, which is full of all impurity, will live under the protection of this castle until the walls of Jerusalem are rebuilt." A prophecy that was never fulfilled! Following the fall of Acre in 1291, Château Pélerin was abandoned by the knights, and its walls were leveled by the infidels.
3. The castle of Safat, at the foot of Mount Tabor. This strong castle was taken by Saladin. It was demolished in 1220, by Coradin, but afterwards rebuilt by the Templars, who then held it till 1266, when they lost it finally.
3. The castle of Safat, at the base of Mount Tabor. This powerful castle was captured by Saladin. It was destroyed in 1220 by Coradin, but later rebuilt by the Templars, who held onto it until 1266, when they finally lost it.
4. The temple at Acre, a remarkably strong building, the last place taken in the capture of that town.
4. The temple in Acre, an incredibly sturdy structure, was the last place seized during the capture of that town.
5. The hill-fort, Dok, between Bethel and Jericho.
5. The hill fort, Dok, located between Bethel and Jericho.
6. Faba, the ancient Aphek, not far from Tyre, in the territory of the ancient tribe of Ashur.
6. Faba, the old Aphek, located close to Tyre, in the area of the ancient tribe of Ashur.
7. Some small castles near Acre, mentioned in the history of the war with Saladin, such as La Cave, Marle, Citerne-rouge, Castel-blanc, La Sommellerie du Temple.
7. Some small castles near Acre, mentioned in the history of the war with Saladin, like La Cave, Marle, Citerne-rouge, Castel-blanc, and La Sommellerie du Temple.
8. The house at Gaza.
The house in Gaza.
9. The castle of Jacob's-ford, at the Jordan, built in 1178 by King Baldwin IV., to check the[Pg 245] incursions of the roving Arabs. When Saladin took this castle, he treated the Templars whom he found in it with great cruelty.
9. The castle at Jacob's-ford, by the Jordan, was built in 1178 by King Baldwin IV to stop the[Pg 245] raids by the roaming Arabs. When Saladin captured this castle, he treated the Templars he found there with extreme cruelty.
10. The house at Jaffa.
The house in Jaffa.
11. The castle of Assur, near this town.
11. The castle of Assur, close to this town.
12. Gerinum parvum.
12. Gerinum parvum.
13. The castle of Beaufort, near Sidon, purchased by the order, in 1260, from Julian, the lord of that town.
13. The castle of Beaufort, near Sidon, was bought by the order in 1260 from Julian, the lord of that town.
We may observe that most of these abodes of the Templars were strong castles and fortresses. It was only by means of such that possession could be retained of a country like Palestine, subject to the constant inroads of the Turks and Saracens. The Templars possessed, besides these strongholds, large farms and tracts of land, of which, though their names are unknown, frequent mention is made in the history of the order.
We can see that most of the Templars' homes were strong castles and fortresses. It was only with these that they could hold onto a land like Palestine, which was constantly attacked by the Turks and Saracens. Besides these strongholds, the Templars owned large farms and pieces of land, which, although their names are lost to history, are often mentioned in the history of the order.
II. Tripolis.—The principal houses of the order in this province were at Tripolis itself; Tortosa, the ancient Antaradus; Castel-blanc, in the same neighbourhood; Laodicea, Tyre, Sidon, and Berytus.
II. Tripoli.—The main houses of the order in this province were located in Tripolis; Tortosa, the ancient Antaradus; Castel-blanc, nearby; Laodicea, Tyre, Sidon, and Berytus.
III. Antioch.—Of this province but little is known. There was a house at Aleppo; and the jurisdiction of the prior probably extended into Armenia[83], where the order had estates to the value of 20,000 byzants.
III. Antioch.—Not much is known about this province. There was a house in Aleppo, and the prior's jurisdiction likely extended into Armenia[83], where the order had estates worth 20,000 byzants.
IV. Cyprus.—As long as the Templars maintained their footing on the continent, Cyprus, it would appear, formed no distinct province, but belonged either to that of Tripolis or of Antioch. At the time when Richard, King of England, made the conquest of this island, he sold the sovereignty of it for 25,000 marks of silver to the Templars, who had already extensive possessions in it. The following year, with the consent of the order, who were, of course, reimbursed, he[Pg 246] transferred the dominion to Guy de Lusignan, King of Jerusalem. On the capture of Acre the chief seat of the order was fixed at Limesal, also called Limissa and Nemosia, in this island, which town, having an excellent harbour, they strongly fortified. They had also a house at Nicosia, and one at the ancient Paphos, named Gastira, and, at the same place, the impregnable castle of Colossa.
IV. Cyprus.—As long as the Templars had a presence on the continent, Cyprus didn’t seem to be its own distinct area, but was part of either Tripolis or Antioch. When Richard, King of England, conquered this island, he sold the sovereignty of it for 25,000 marks of silver to the Templars, who already owned a lot of land there. The following year, with the order's approval, and after reimbursing them, he[Pg 246] transferred control to Guy de Lusignan, King of Jerusalem. After Acre was captured, the main headquarters of the order was established at Limesal, also known as Limissa and Nemosia, in this island, where they strongly fortified the town due to its excellent harbor. They also had a location in Nicosia and one in ancient Paphos, called Gastira, along with the impenetrable castle of Colossa at the same site.
Some idea of the value of the possessions of the Templars in Cyprus may be formed from the circumstance, that when, in 1316, after the suppression of the order, the Pope directed the Bishop of Limissa to transfer their property there to the Hospitallers, there were found, in the house in that town, 26,000 byzants of coined money, and silver plate to the value of 1,500 marks. As the last Master, when setting out for France ten years before, had carried with him the treasure of the order, this property must have been accumulated during that time out of the surplus revenue of the possessions of the order in the island.
Some idea of the value of the Templars' possessions in Cyprus can be gathered from the fact that when, in 1316, after the order was dissolved, the Pope instructed the Bishop of Limissa to hand over their property to the Hospitallers, they discovered 26,000 byzants in coined money and silver plate worth 1,500 marks in the house in that town. Since the last Master had taken the order's treasure with him to France ten years earlier, this property must have been built up during that time from the surplus revenue of the order's holdings on the island.
The Western provinces of the order were—
The Western provinces of the order were—
I. Portugal.—So early as the year 1130 (a strong proof of the rapid increase of the order) Galdin Paez, the first provincial master of the Temple in Portugal, built the castles of Tomar, Monsento, and Idanna. The Templars had also settlements at Castromarin, Almural, and Langrovia. Tomar was the residence of the great-prior.
I. Portugal.—As early as 1130 (a strong indication of the quick growth of the order), Galdin Paez, the first provincial master of the Temple in Portugal, constructed the castles of Tomar, Monsento, and Idanna. The Templars also had settlements in Castromarin, Almural, and Langrovia. Tomar was the residence of the grand prior.
II. Castile and Leon.—In this province the possessions of the order were so extensive as to form twenty-four bailiwicks in Castile alone. It is needless to enumerate their names[84].
II. Castile and León.—In this province, the order's holdings were so large that they created twenty-four bailiwicks just in Castile. There's no need to list their names[84].
III. Aragon.—In this province, which abounded in castles, several belonged to the Templars; and the bailiwick of Majorca, where they were also settled,[Pg 247] was under the jurisdiction of the great-prior of Aragon.
III. Aragon.—In this province, which was filled with castles, several were owned by the Templars; and the bailiwick of Majorca, where they were also established,[Pg 247] was under the control of the grand prior of Aragon.
It is to be observed that most of the castles possessed by the order in Spain and Portugal were on the borders of the Moorish territory. Some of these had been given to the Templars as the inveterate foes of the infidels; others had been conquered by them from the Moors.
It should be noted that most of the castles owned by the order in Spain and Portugal were located on the edges of the Moorish territory. Some of these were granted to the Templars as the steadfast enemies of the infidels; others were taken by them from the Moors.
France, where the possessions of the order were so considerable, was divided into four provinces, namely—
France, where the order's holdings were significant, was split into four provinces, namely—
IV. France and Auvergne, including Flanders and the Netherlands.
IV. France and Auvergne, including Flanders and the Netherlands.
V. Normandy.
V. Normandy.
VI. Aquitaine, or Poitou.
VI. Aquitaine or Poitou.
VII. Provence.
VII. Provence.
The residences of the great-priors of these four provinces were, for France, the capacious and stately Temple at Paris, which was, as we are informed by Matthew Paris, large and roomy enough to contain an army; for Normandy, as is supposed, La ville Dieu en la Montagne; for Poitou, the Temple at Poitiers; for Provence, that at Montpellier.
The homes of the great-priors in these four provinces were, for France, the spacious and impressive Temple in Paris, which, as Matthew Paris tells us, was big enough to hold an army; for Normandy, it’s thought to be La ville Dieu en la Montagne; for Poitou, the Temple in Poitiers; and for Provence, the one in Montpellier.
VIII. England.—The province of England included Scotland and Ireland. Though each of these two last kingdoms had its own great-prior, they were subordinate to the great-prior of England, who resided at the Temple of London.
VIII. England.—The province of England included Scotland and Ireland. Although each of these last two kingdoms had its own great prior, they were under the authority of the great prior of England, who lived at the Temple in London.
The principal bailiwicks of England were—1. London; 2. Kent; 3. Warwick; 4. Waesdone; 5. Lincoln; 6. Lindsey; 7. Bolingbroke; 8. Widine; 9. Agerstone; 10. York. In these were seventeen preceptories; and the number of churches, houses, farms, mills, &c., possessed by the order was very considerable[85].
The main regions of England were—1. London; 2. Kent; 3. Warwick; 4. Waesdone; 5. Lincoln; 6. Lindsey; 7. Bolingbroke; 8. Widine; 9. Agerstone; 10. York. Within these areas, there were seventeen commanderies, and the number of churches, houses, farms, mills, etc., owned by the order was quite significant[85].

Interior of Round Tower, in Temple Church, London.

Saxon Doorway, Temple Church, London.
Details of Saxon Capitals.

Round Temple Church, Cambridge.
The chief seat of the order in Scotland appears to have been Blancradox. Its possessions were not extensive in that poor and turbulent country; and in Ireland the Templars seem to have been few, and confined to the Pale. We hear of but three of their houses in that country—namely, Glaukhorp, in the diocese of Dublin; Wilbride, in that of Ferns; and Siewerk, in that of Kildare.
The main headquarters of the order in Scotland seems to have been Blancradox. Its holdings weren’t large in that struggling and chaotic country; and in Ireland, the Templars appear to have been few in number and limited to the Pale. We only know of three of their houses in that country—Glaukhorp, in the diocese of Dublin; Wilbride, in Ferns; and Siewerk, in Kildare.
IX. Germany.—It is difficult to ascertain how the order was regulated in Germany, where its possessions were very extensive. We hear of three great-priors: those of Upper Germany, of Brandenburg, and of Bohemia and Moravia; one of whom, but it cannot be determined which, had probably authority over the others. Though the Templars got lands in Germany as early as the year 1130, their acquisitions were not large in that country till the thirteenth century. Poland was included in the province of Germany. Great-prior in Alemania and Slavia was a usual title of the great-prior of Germany. Though the possessions of the Templars in Hungary were very considerable, there are no grounds for supposing that it formed a separate province: it was probably subject to the great-prior of Germany.
IX. Germany.—It’s hard to determine how the order was organized in Germany, where its holdings were quite extensive. We know of three grand-priors: those of Upper Germany, Brandenburg, and Bohemia and Moravia; one of whom, though we can’t say which, likely had authority over the others. Although the Templars acquired land in Germany as early as 1130, their holdings weren't significant until the thirteenth century. Poland was part of the province of Germany. The title of great-prior in Alemania and Slavia was commonly used for the grand-prior of Germany. Even though the Templars had considerable possessions in Hungary, there’s no evidence to suggest it was a separate province; it was probably under the authority of the grand-prior of Germany.
X. Upper and Central Italy.—There was no town of any importance in this part of the Italian peninsula in which the Templars had not a house. The principal was that on the Aventine Hill at Rome, in which the great-prior resided. Its church still remains, and is called Il Priorato, or the Priory.
X. Northern and Central Italy.—There wasn’t a significant town in this area of the Italian peninsula that didn’t have a Templar house. The main one was located on the Aventine Hill in Rome, where the grand prior lived. Its church still exists today and is known as Il Priorato, or the Priory.
XI. Apulia and Sicily.—The possessions of the Templars in Sicily were very considerable. They had houses and lands at Syracuse, Palermo, Trapani, Butera, Lentini, &c.; all of which were dependent on the principal house, which was in Messina. The great-prior resided either at Messina or at Benevento in Apulia. Possibly the seat was removed to this last[Pg 252] place, after the Emperor Frederic II. had seized so much of the property of the order in Sicily.
XI. Apulia and Sicily.—The Templars had significant holdings in Sicily. They owned houses and land in Syracuse, Palermo, Trapani, Butera, Lentini, and others, all of which were connected to the main house in Messina. The great prior lived either in Messina or in Benevento, Apulia. It’s possible that the headquarters moved to the latter[Pg 252] location after Emperor Frederic II. took a large portion of the order's property in Sicily.
In Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, the order had no possessions whatever. Though the people of these countries took some share in the crusades, and were, therefore, not deficient in religious zeal, their poor and little-known lands offered no strong inducements to the avarice or ambition of the knights of the Temple, and they never sought a settlement in them.
In Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, the order had no possessions at all. Although the people in these countries participated in the crusades and showed some religious passion, their impoverished and lesser-known lands didn't provide any strong appeal to the greed or ambition of the knights of the Temple, so they never attempted to establish a presence there.
We thus see that, with the exception of the northern kingdoms, there was no part of Europe in which the order of the Temple was not established. Everywhere they had churches, chapels, tithes, farms, villages, mills, rights of pasturage, of fishing, of venery, and of wood. They had also, in many places, the right of holding annual fairs, which were managed, and the tolls received, either by some of the brethren of the nearest houses or by their donates and servants. The number of their preceptories is, by the most moderate computation, rated at 9,000; and the annual income of the order at about six millions sterling—an enormous sum for those times! Masters of such a revenue, descended from the noblest houses of Christendom, uniting in their persons the most esteemed secular and religious characters, regarded as the chosen champions of Christ, and the flower of Christian knights, it was not possible for the Templars, in such lax times as the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, to escape falling into the vices of extravagant luxury and overweening pride. Nor are we to wonder at their becoming objects of jealousy and aversion to both the clergy and the laity, and exciting the fears and the cupidity of an avaricious and faithless prince.
We see that, except for the northern kingdoms, the order of the Temple was established throughout Europe. They had churches, chapels, tithes, farms, villages, mills, rights to graze livestock, fish, hunt, and harvest wood everywhere. In many areas, they also had the right to hold annual fairs, which were run, and the fees collected, either by some of the brethren from nearby houses or by their donates and servants. The number of their preceptories is estimated at around 9,000, and the order's annual income was about six million pounds—an enormous amount for that time! With such wealth, descended from the noblest families in Christendom, and combining both secular and religious roles, regarded as the chosen champions of Christ and the elite of Christian knights, it was inevitable that the Templars would fall into the vices of extravagant luxury and excessive pride during the lax times of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. It's no surprise they became objects of jealousy and disdain from both the clergy and the laity, stirring the fears and greed of a grasping and untrustworthy prince.
Chapter 7.
Officers of the Order—The Master—Mode of Election—His Rights and Privileges—Restraints on him—The Seneschal—The Marshal—The Treasurer—The Draper—The Turcopilar—Great-Priors—Commanders—Visitors—Sub-Marshal—Standard-bearer.
An order consisting of so many members, and whose wealth and possessions were of such extent, must necessarily have had numerous officers and various ranks and dignities. The elucidation of this branch of their constitution is now to engage our attention.
An organization with so many members, and whose wealth and assets were so vast, must have had many officers along with different ranks and titles. We will now focus on explaining this part of their structure.
At the head of the order stood the Master, or, as he was sometimes called, the Great-Master[86] of the Temple. This personage was always a knight, and had generally held one of the higher dignities of the order. Though, like the Doge of Venice, his power was greatly controlled by the chapter, he enjoyed very great consideration, and was always regarded as the representative of the order. In the councils, the Masters of the Temple and the Hospital took precedence of all ambassadors, and sat next the prelates. All monarchs conceded princely rank and place to the Master of the Temple.
At the top of the order was the Master, or as he was sometimes called, the Great Master of the Temple. This person was always a knight and typically held one of the higher positions within the order. Although, like the Doge of Venice, his power was largely limited by the chapter, he was highly respected and always seen as the representative of the order. In meetings, the Masters of the Temple and the Hospital took precedence over all ambassadors and sat next to the bishops. All monarchs granted the Master of the Temple a princely rank and status.
A situation which offered so much state and consideration[Pg 254] must, of necessity, have been an object of ambition; but the scanty records remaining of the society do not enable us to point out any specific cases of intrigue employed for the attainment of it. That of the last Master, hereafter to be mentioned, is somewhat problematic.
A scenario that provided so much prestige and attention[Pg 254] must have naturally been a target for ambition; however, the limited records left of the society don't allow us to identify any particular instances of scheming used to achieve it. The case of the last Master, which will be mentioned later, is somewhat unclear.
The election of a Master of the Temple was as follows:—
The election of a Master of the Temple happened like this:—
When the Master was dead, an event which always occurred in the East, as he was bound to reside there, if it took place in the kingdom of Jerusalem, and the marshal of the order was on the spot, he took upon him the exercise of the vacant dignity till, with the aid of the chapter and of all the bailiffs on this side of the sea (i. e. in the East), he had appointed a great-prior to represent the Master. But this election did not take place till after the funeral. Should the death of the Master have occurred in the province of Tripolis, or that of Antioch, the prior of the province took the direction of the order till the great-prior was appointed.
When the Master passed away, which always happened in the East since he was required to be there, if it occurred in the kingdom of Jerusalem and the marshal of the order was present, he took on the responsibilities of the vacant position until, with the help of the chapter and all the bailiffs in this area (i. e. in the East), he appointed a great prior to represent the Master. However, this election didn't happen until after the funeral. If the Master died in the province of Tripolis or Antioch, the prior of that province managed the order until the great prior was appointed.
Owing to the constant state of war which prevailed in the East, and to other causes, a considerable space of time occasionally intervened between the death of one Master and the appointment of his successor. During the interregnum the society was directed by the great-prior who bore the seal of the Master.
Due to the ongoing war in the East and other reasons, there were often significant delays between the death of one Master and the appointment of his successor. During the interregnum, the society was led by the great-prior who held the Master’s seal.
When the day appointed for the election was arrived, the great officers of the order and all the bailiffs who were invited to be present assembled in the place selected for holding the election—generally the chapel of the order. The great-prior, taking several of the knights aside, consulted with them; and they then made two or three or more of the knights who were most highly-esteemed retire. The great-prior took the voices of those present on the merits[Pg 255] of the absent knights; and he who had most in his favour was declared the electing-prior. The knights were then called in, and the choice of the assembly notified to them. A knight, possessing the same virtues of piety, love of peace, and impartiality with himself, was then assigned for an assistant to the electing-prior: and the whole assemblage withdrew, leaving the two alone in the chapel, where they passed the entire night in prayer.
When the day set for the election arrived, the top officials of the order and all the bailiffs who were invited gathered in the chosen location for the election—usually the order's chapel. The great-prior consulted with several of the knights privately; then, they asked two or three of the most respected knights to step aside. The great-prior took the opinions of those present on the merits[Pg 255] of the absent knights, and the one with the most support was declared the electing-prior. The knights were then called back in, and the assembly's choice was announced to them. A knight who shared the same virtues of piety, love of peace, and fairness as the great-prior was then appointed to assist the electing-prior. The entire assembly then left, leaving the two alone in the chapel, where they spent the whole night in prayer.
Early next morning, after performing their usual devotions and hearing the mass of the Holy Ghost, the chapter re-assembled. The great-prior then exhorted the two electing brethren to perform their duty truly and honestly. These, then retiring, chose two other brethren; these four chose two more, and so on, till the number amounted to twelve, in honour of the apostles. The twelve then chose a brother-chaplain to represent the person of Jesus Christ, and maintain peace and concord. It was necessary that these thirteen should be of different provinces—eight of them knights, four serving-brethren, and one priest. The thirteen electors then returned to the chapter, and the electing-prior besought all present to pray for them, as a great task had been laid on them. All then fell on their knees and prayed; and the great-prior solemnly reminded the electors of their duty, and conjured them to perform it truly and uprightly. Having again implored the prayers of the assembly, the electing-prior and his companions retired to the place appointed for their deliberations. If the electors, or the majority of them, declared for any knight on this or the other side of the sea, he was appointed; if they were divided into parties, the electing-prior came with one of the knights, and, informing the assembly of the circumstance, asked their prayers. All fell on their knees, and the two[Pg 256] electors returned to their companions; if they now agreed, the person whom they chose was declared Master.
Early the next morning, after doing their usual prayers and attending the Mass of the Holy Spirit, the chapter gathered again. The great prior then urged the two elected members to carry out their responsibilities honestly and sincerely. The two members then stepped back and selected two more, continuing this process until they had a total of twelve, to honor the apostles. The twelve then chose a brother-chaplain to represent Jesus Christ and promote peace and harmony. It was essential that these thirteen came from different provinces—eight knights, four serving brothers, and one priest. The thirteen electors then returned to the chapter, where the electing prior asked everyone present to pray for them, as they had a significant task ahead. Everyone knelt down and prayed, and the great prior reminded the electors of their duty and urged them to carry it out with integrity. After again seeking the assembly's prayers, the electing prior and his colleagues went to the designated place for their deliberations. If the electors, or the majority of them, chose any knight from this side or the other side of the sea, that knight was appointed. If they were divided, the electing prior would come forward with one of the knights, explain the situation to the assembly, and request their prayers. Everyone would kneel again, and the two electors would return to their colleagues; if they then agreed, the person they chose would be declared Master.
Should the object of their choice be, as was not unfrequently the case, actually present in the chapter, the thirteen came in; and the electing-prior speaking in their name, said, "Beloved sirs, give praise and thanks to our Lord Jesus Christ, and to our dear Lady, and to all the saints, that we are agreed, and have, according to your command, chosen, in the name of God, a Master of the Temple. Are ye content with what we have done?" All then replied, "In the name of God!" "Do ye promise to yield him obedience as long as he lives?" "Yea, with the help of God!" The electing-prior then turned to the great-prior, and said, "Prior, if God and we have chosen thee for the Master, wilt thou promise to obey the chapter as long as thou live, and to maintain the good morals and good usages of the order?" and he answered, "Yea, with the aid of God!" The same question was then put to some of the most distinguished knights; and if the person elected was present, the electing-prior went up to him, and said, "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, we have chosen you brother, N. N., for Master, and do choose you!" He then said, "Beloved sirs and brethren, give thanks unto God: behold our Master." The chaplains then chanted aloud the Te Deum laudamus, the brethren arose, and, with the utmost reverence and joy, taking the new Master in their arms, carried him into the chapel, and placed him before the altar, where he continued kneeling while the brethren prayed, the chaplains repeating Kyrie Eleïson, Pater noster, and other devotional forms.
If the chosen candidate happened to be present in the chapter, the thirteen entered; and the electing prior, speaking for them, said, "Dear friends, give praise and thanks to our Lord Jesus Christ, our dear Lady, and all the saints, that we are in agreement and, following your command, have chosen, in the name of God, a Master of the Temple. Are you satisfied with what we've done?" Everyone responded, "In the name of God!" "Do you promise to obey him as long as he lives?" "Yes, with God's help!" The electing prior then turned to the great prior and said, "Prior, if God and we have chosen you as the Master, will you promise to obey the chapter for the rest of your life and uphold the good morals and practices of the order?" He replied, "Yes, with God's aid!" The same question was then posed to some of the most distinguished knights; and if the elected individual was present, the electing prior approached him and said, "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, we have chosen you, brother N. N., as Master, and we choose you!" He then said, "Dear friends and brothers, give thanks to God: here is our Master." The chaplains then sang aloud the Te Deum laudamus, the brothers rose, and, with the utmost reverence and joy, took the new Master in their arms, carried him into the chapel, and placed him before the altar, where he knelt while the brothers prayed, with the chaplains reciting Kyrie Eleison, Pater noster, and other prayers.
The election of the Master of the Temple required[Pg 257] no papal confirmation: the choice of the chapter was conclusive. Two knights were assigned to him as his companions.
The election of the Master of the Temple didn't need[Pg 257] any papal approval: the decision of the chapter was final. Two knights were appointed as his companions.
The allowances and train of the Master were suitable to the rank which he was to support in the world, and to the dignity of the order which he represented. He was allowed four horses, and an esquire of noble birth. He had a chaplain and two secretaries; one for managing his Latin correspondence, whom he might, after a time, admit to become a knight of the order; the other, who was called his Saracenic secretary, and who was probably an eastern Christian, for carrying on his Arabic correspondence with the Infidels. He had, moreover, a farrier, a cook, and a Turcopole[87], two footmen, and a Turcoman[88], to serve as guide. On a march, the Turcoman rode on a horse behind an esquire: during the time of war he was led by a cord, to prevent his escape. On any ordinary journey, the Master might take two beasts of burden with him; but in war-time, or in case of his going beyond the Jordan, or the Dog's Pass[89], he might extend the number to four, which the statutes thriftily direct to be put into the stable when he arrives at the house where he is going to stop, and to be employed in the service of the house. The Master was finally commander-in-chief[Pg 258] of the order in the field; and then, like the Spartan kings, he could act in some degree unfettered by the chapter. When he died, he was buried with great solemnity and pomp, by the light of torches and wax tapers—an honour bestowed by the order on no other of its members. All the knights were required to attend the funeral; and the prelates were invited to give their presence at it. Each brother who was present was to repeat 200 Pater nosters within seven days, for the repose of the soul of the deceased; and 100 poor persons were fed at home in the evening, with the same design.
The privileges and retinue of the Master were appropriate for the position he held in society and the respect of the order he represented. He was permitted four horses and an esquire of noble lineage. He had a chaplain and two secretaries; one to handle his Latin correspondence, who he could eventually promote to a knight of the order, and the other, known as his Saracenic secretary, who was likely an Eastern Christian, responsible for his Arabic correspondence with the Infidels. Additionally, he had a farrier, a cook, and a Turcopole[87], two footmen, and a Turcoman[88], to serve as a guide. When marching, the Turcoman rode behind an esquire on horseback; during wartime, he was kept on a leash to prevent escape. On regular journeys, the Master could take two pack animals with him, but during wartime or when crossing the Jordan or the Dog's Pass[89], he could increase the number to four, which the rules directed to be put in the stable upon arrival at his destination and to be used for the service of the location. The Master was ultimately the commander-in-chief[Pg 258] of the order in the field; thus, like the Spartan kings, he could operate somewhat independently of the chapter. Upon his death, he was buried with great solemnity and ceremony, accompanied by torches and wax candles—an honor the order granted to no other members. All knights were required to attend the funeral, and prelates were invited to be present. Each brother in attendance was to say 200 Pater nosters within seven days for the peace of the deceased's soul, and 100 poor people were fed at home in the evening for the same purpose.
On the other hand, the Master was bound to obey the chapter; and he could do nothing without consulting some of the brethren. He could not nominate to any of the higher dignities of the order; but he might, with the advice and consent of some of the most reputable knights, appoint to the inferior priories and preceptories. He could not sell, or in any other way dispose of, any of the lands of the order, without the consent of the chapter; neither could he make peace or truce without their approbation. Their consent was also required to enable him to make any alteration in the laws of the society, to receive any person into it, or to send a brother beyond sea. He could take no money out of the treasury without the consent of the prior of Jerusalem, who was the treasurer of the society. In fact, the Master of the Temple was so curbed and restrained in every way, and his office made so much an honorary one, that his dignity may best be compared with that of a Spartan king or a Venetian doge. It is rather curious that the Master of the Temple should be thus limited in authority, when the abbot of the Benedictines, whose rules the Templars in a great measure adopted, enjoyed monarchical power.[Pg 259]
On the other hand, the Master had to follow the chapter's rules and couldn't do anything without consulting some of the brothers. He couldn't appoint anyone to the higher ranks of the order, but he could, with the advice and agreement of some of the most respected knights, make appointments to the lower priories and preceptories. He couldn’t sell or transfer any of the order's land without the chapter’s permission; nor could he declare peace or a truce without their approval. Their agreement was also necessary for him to change any of the rules of the society, admit new members, or send a brother overseas. He couldn't take any money from the treasury without the consent of the prior of Jerusalem, who was the society's treasurer. In fact, the Master of the Temple was so restricted in every way, and his role treated so much like an honorary one, that his position is best compared to that of a Spartan king or a Venetian doge. It’s somewhat interesting that the Master of the Temple had such limited authority, especially when the abbot of the Benedictines, whose rules the Templars largely adopted, held more monarchical power.[Pg 259]
Next in rank to the Master stood the seneschal, who, as his name denotes[90], was the Master's representative and lieutenant. He had a right to be present at all chapters of the order; and to be acquainted with all transactions of consequence. He was allowed the same number of horses as the Master; but, instead of a mule, he was to have a palfrey: he had two esquires, and was assigned a knight as his companion; a deacon acted as his chaplain and Latin secretary; he had also a Saracenic secretary and a Turcopole, with two footmen. Like the Master, he bore the seal of the order.
Next in rank to the Master was the seneschal, who, as his name suggests[90], was the Master's representative and second-in-command. He had the right to attend all meetings of the order and to be informed about all significant matters. He was allowed the same number of horses as the Master; however, instead of a mule, he was to have a riding horse. He had two squires and was assigned a knight as his companion; a deacon served as his chaplain and Latin secretary; he also had a Saracen secretary and a Turcopole, along with two footmen. Like the Master, he carried the seal of the order.
The marshal was the general of the order; he had charge of the banner, and led the brethren to battle. All the arms, equipments, and stables of the order were under his superintendence. It was he who nominated the sub-marshal and the standard-bearer. Like all the other great officers, he was appointed by the Master and the chapter. As we have seen, when the Master died in the kingdom of Jerusalem, the marshal occupied his place till a great-prior was chosen. The marshal was allowed four horses, two esquires, a serving-brother, and a Turcopole.
The marshal was the leader of the order; he was in charge of the banner and led the members into battle. He oversaw all the weapons, gear, and stables of the order. He was the one who appointed the sub-marshal and the standard-bearer. Like all the other senior officials, he was selected by the Master and the chapter. As we’ve seen, when the Master passed away in the kingdom of Jerusalem, the marshal took his place until a new grand prior was appointed. The marshal was allowed four horses, two squires, a serving brother, and a Turcopole.
The office of treasurer of the order was always united with the dignity of preceptor of the kingdom of Jerusalem. This officer had the charge of all the receipts and expenditure of the order, of which he was bound to give an account, when required, to the Master and the chapter. The wardrobe of the order was also under him; and the draper was assigned as his companion, without whose knowledge he could not dispose of any of the clothes. As the ships, though few in number, which the Templars possessed, were under him, he may be regarded as,[Pg 260] also, in some sort, the admiral of the order; and on this account the preceptor of Acre was subordinate to him. The treasurer had the same allowance of horses, &c. as the seneschal.
The treasurer's office of the order was always linked with the position of preceptor of the kingdom of Jerusalem. This official was in charge of all the income and expenses of the order, which he was required to report on, when asked, to the Master and the chapter. He also oversaw the order’s wardrobe, and the draper worked alongside him, as he couldn’t make any decisions about the clothing without the draper's input. Since the ships, though limited in number, owned by the Templars also fell under his responsibility, he could be seen as,[Pg 260] in a way, the order's admiral; for this reason, the preceptor of Acre was accountable to him. The treasurer received the same number of horses, etc., as the seneschal.
The draper had charge of the clothing of the order: he was to see that each brother was decently and properly dressed. His allowance was four horses, two esquires, and a pack-servant.
The draper was in charge of the order's clothing: he had to ensure that each brother was dressed appropriately and neatly. He was allocated four horses, two squires, and a pack servant.
The Turcopilar was the commander of the light horse. All the armed serving-brethren and the Turcopoles were under his command. He was himself subordinate to the marshal. When he was going into action, some of the knights were sent with him. These were under his orders; but if their number amounted to ten, and they had with them a banner and a knight-preceptor, the Turcopilar became subordinate to this officer; which proves that the office of Turcopilar was not one of the higher dignitaries of the order. The Turcopilar was allowed four horses.
The Turcopilar was in charge of the light cavalry. All the armed serving brethren and the Turcopoles reported to him. He was subordinate to the marshal. When he went into battle, some of the knights were sent with him. They followed his orders; however, if their number reached ten and they had a banner and a knight-preceptor with them, the Turcopilar had to answer to this officer instead. This shows that the role of Turcopilar wasn't one of the higher ranks in the order. The Turcopilar was permitted four horses.
Besides these offices of the order in the East, there were the great-priors, great-preceptors, or provincial-masters (for the terms are synonymous) of the three provinces of Jerusalem, Tripolis, and Antioch; and the preceptors, who were subordinate to them.
Besides these offices of the order in the East, there were the grand priors, grand preceptors, or provincial masters (since the terms are interchangeable) of the three provinces of Jerusalem, Tripolis, and Antioch; and the preceptors, who were lower-ranking officials under them.
The great-prior of the kingdom of Jerusalem was also treasurer. His office has been already noticed. The great-priors of Tripolis and Antioch had the superintendence over the brethren and the possessions of the order in these provinces. They had the same allowances of attendants and horses as the seneschal. The prior of Antioch, when on a journey to Armenia, which bordered on his province, and in which the order had possessions, was allowed to take with him a chaplain and a portable chapel, as the Armenians were monophysite heretics, with whom[Pg 261] the orthodox brethren of the Temple could not join in worship.
The Grand Prior of the Kingdom of Jerusalem also served as the treasurer. His role has already been mentioned. The Grand Priors of Tripolis and Antioch were in charge of the brothers and the properties of the order in these areas. They had the same allowances for staff and horses as the seneschal. The Prior of Antioch, when traveling to Armenia, which was on the border of his province and where the order had assets, was permitted to bring along a chaplain and a portable chapel, since the Armenians were monophysite heretics, with whom the orthodox brothers of the Temple could not worship.
The prior of the town of Jerusalem had peculiar duties to perform. It was his office, with ten knights who stood under his command, to escort the pilgrims on their way to and from the Jordan—one of the principal objects of the institution of the order. On this occasion he had with him the banner of the order and a round tent, into which he might take any persons whom he should find sick when he encamped: he was also to take with him provisions, and beasts of burden on which to place such of the pilgrims as might be fatigued on the return.
The prior of the town of Jerusalem had specific responsibilities to handle. It was his job, along with ten knights who reported to him, to guide the pilgrims to and from the Jordan—one of the main purposes of the order. On this trip, he carried the banner of the order and a round tent, which he could use for any sick individuals he encountered while camping: he also needed to bring provisions and pack animals to help transport any exhausted pilgrims on their way back.
When the true cross was brought forth on any expedition, it was the duty of the prior of Jerusalem to keep by it, with his ten knights, night and day, and to guard it; he was to encamp close to it; and two brethren were to watch it every night.
When the true cross was taken on any expedition, it was the responsibility of the prior of Jerusalem to stay by it, along with his ten knights, day and night, and to protect it; he was to camp close to it; and two brothers were to keep watch over it every night.
All the secular knights who associated themselves to the order in Jerusalem were under his orders, and fought beneath his banner. All the brethren of the order who were in Jerusalem were, in the absence of the marshal, under his command. One half of the booty captured beyond the Jordan fell to him, the other half to the prior of the kingdom.
All the secular knights who joined the order in Jerusalem were under his command and fought under his banner. All the brothers of the order who were in Jerusalem were, in the absence of the marshal, under his leadership. He received half of the loot captured beyond the Jordan, while the other half went to the prior of the kingdom.
As we have seen above, the West was, like the East, divided into provinces of the order. Each of these provinces was presided over by a lieutenant of the master, named the provincial-master, great-prior, or great-preceptor, with his chapter and officers corresponding to those of the kingdom of Jerusalem. He was appointed, as it would appear, by the Master and chapter; and when entering on his office, he bound himself by oath to defend the Catholic religion, not only with his lips, but with arms and all his strength; to follow the rules drawn up by St. Bernard; to obey the Master; to come over the sea to his[Pg 262] aid whenever it was necessary; to defend him against all unbelieving kings and princes; not to fly before these unbelieving foes; not to alienate the goods of the order; to be loyal to the prince of the country; to be chaste; and to aid all spiritual persons, especially the Cistercians, by words and by deeds.
As we’ve discussed above, the West was, like the East, divided into provinces of the order. Each province was led by a lieutenant of the master, known as the provincial-master, great-prior, or great-preceptor, along with his chapter and officers, similar to those of the kingdom of Jerusalem. He was appointed, it seems, by the Master and chapter; and upon taking office, he pledged an oath to defend the Catholic faith, not just with his words, but with arms and all his strength; to adhere to the rules established by St. Bernard; to obey the Master; to come across the sea to his[Pg 262] aid whenever needed; to protect him against all non-believing kings and princes; not to flee before these non-believing enemies; not to misuse the assets of the order; to be loyal to the local prince; to remain chaste; and to support all spiritual individuals, especially the Cistercians, through both words and actions.
Under the provincial-masters stood the priors, bailiffs, or masters, who governed large districts of the provinces, and had under their inspection several of the houses of the order and their preceptors. They dwelt in large temple-houses, with a good number of knights; they had the power of holding chapters, and of receiving members into the order.
Under the provincial leaders were the priors, bailiffs, or masters, who managed large areas of the provinces and oversaw several houses of the order and their instructors. They lived in large temple-like residences, with a considerable number of knights; they had the authority to hold meetings and admit new members into the order.
The preceptors were subordinate to the priors; they presided over one or more houses. They were generally knights, but they were sometimes priests. They were of two kinds—house-preceptors and knight-preceptors; the former, as their name denotes, merely presided over the houses, and might be priests or serving-brethren; the latter, who were probably only to be found in the East or in Spain, led each ten knights in the battle.
The preceptors were under the priors; they oversaw one or more houses. They were usually knights but could also be priests. There were two types—house preceptors and knight preceptors; the former, as their name suggests, solely managed the houses and could be priests or serving brothers; the latter, likely only found in the East or Spain, led groups of ten knights in battle.
Another office to be found among the Templars was that of visitors. These were knights, who, as the representatives of the Master, visited the different provinces of the order, especially in the West, to reform abuses, make new regulations, and terminate such disputes and law-suits as were usually reserved for the decision of the Master and the chapter. All the provincial officers, even the great-priors, were subject to the visitors, as the representatives of the Master. The powers of the visitors ceased as soon as the business ended for which they were sent, or when they were recalled.
Another position within the Templars was that of visitors. These were knights who, as representatives of the Master, traveled to various provinces of the order, especially in the West, to address abuses, implement new regulations, and settle disputes and lawsuits that were typically reserved for the Master and the chapter’s decision. All provincial officers, including the great priors, were accountable to the visitors, as they represented the Master. The authority of the visitors ended once they completed the tasks for which they were sent or when they were recalled.

Preceptory, Swingfield, Dover
Besides the foregoing offices, which were almost exclusively confined to the knights, there were some inferior ones appropriated to the serving-brethren.[Pg 264] These offices were five in number—namely, those of sub-marshal, standard-bearer, farrier, cook, and preceptor of the coast of Acre. Each of these was allowed two horses.
Besides the above roles, which were mostly reserved for the knights, there were some lesser positions assigned to the serving brothers.[Pg 264] There were five of these roles: sub-marshal, standard-bearer, farrier, cook, and preceptor of the coast of Acre. Each of these positions was allotted two horses.
The sub-marshal had the charge of all the inferior sort of accoutrements (le petit harnois) of the order, in which the horse-furniture seems to have been included. All the handicraftsmen of the order were under him, and were obliged to account to him for their work. He supplied them with the needful tools and materials; could send them where he pleased on the service of the house; and on holidays give them permission to go from one house to another to amuse themselves. The sub-marshal and the standard-bearer were each the representative of the other in his absence.
The sub-marshal was in charge of all the lower-quality equipment (le petit harnois) for the order, which included horse gear. All the craftsmen of the order reported to him and had to account for their work. He provided them with the necessary tools and materials; could send them wherever he wanted for the needs of the house; and on holidays, allowed them to visit other houses for fun. The sub-marshal and the standard-bearer each acted as the other's representative when one was absent.
The standard-bearer had the command over all the esquires of the house; that is, those who were engaged for a limited time in the service of the order, whom he was bound to make acquainted with the rules to which they were subject, and the punishments to which they were liable in case of disobedience; he was also to pay them their wages. Whenever the esquires took the horses out to graze, he was bound to precede them with a standard of the order. He always presided at the table of the serving-brethren and esquires. When the order was marching to battle, it was his task to ride before the standard, which was borne after him by an esquire, or carried on a wain[91]; he was to lead whithersoever the marshal directed him. When the battle commenced, those esquires who led the horses of the knights were to combat behind their masters; the others were to take the mules on which their masters rode, and remain with the standard-bearer, who was to[Pg 265] have a banner rolled about his lance, which, when he saw the marshal engaged in action, he was to unfurl, and draw up the esquires in as handsome order as possible behind the combatants, in order to support them.
The standard-bearer was in charge of all the esquires in the house; that is, those who were temporarily serving the order. He was responsible for making sure they understood the rules they needed to follow and the punishments they would face for disobedience; he was also to pay them their wages. Whenever the esquires took the horses out to graze, he had to go ahead of them with a standard of the order. He always sat at the table with the serving brothers and esquires. When the order was marching to battle, it was his job to ride in front of the standard, which was carried behind him by an esquire or on a wagon; he was to lead wherever the marshal directed. When the battle started, those esquires who were handling the knights' horses were to fight behind their masters, while the others took care of the mules their masters rode and stayed with the standard-bearer, who was to have a banner wrapped around his lance. When he saw the marshal engaged in action, he was to unfurl it and position the esquires as neatly as possible behind the fighters to support them.
The serving-brethren were eligible to the office of house-preceptor; but there was this distinction made between them and knights who held that office, that, the serving-brethren being allowed but one horse, their esquire was a serving-brother. As Acre was the sea-port at which all the shipments of the order to and from Europe took place, the preceptory there was necessarily an office which entailed a good deal of toil and business on the person who held that situation, and required a knowledge of commerce and of the affairs of the world. It was therefore not considered suitable to a knight, and was always given to a serving-brother. The serving-brethren were also set over the various farms and estates of the order. These were named the brother-stewards,—in Latin, grangiarii and preceptores grangiarum,—and were probably selected from the craftsmen of the order. They were allowed two horses and an esquire.
The serving brothers could hold the position of house preceptor, but there was a distinction made between them and knights who also held that role. Since serving brothers were allowed only one horse, their esquire was also a serving brother. Acre was the port where all the order's shipments to and from Europe happened, so the preceptory there involved a lot of hard work and responsibilities. It required knowledge of trade and worldly affairs, making it unsuitable for a knight, who always had to be a serving brother. The serving brothers also managed the various farms and estates of the order. They were known as the brother stewards—in Latin, grangiarii and preceptores grangiarum—and were likely chosen from among the order's craftsmen. They were allowed two horses and an esquire.
Chapter 8.
Chapters—Mode of holding them—Templars' Mode of Living—Amusements—Conduct in War.
Such as we have described them were the members, the possessions, and the various offices of the powerful society of the Temple. In order to complete our view, it only remains to trace its internal government and most important regulations. We shall therefore commence with an account of the chapters, from which all the acts and rules of the society emanated.
Such as we have described them were the members, the possessions, and the various offices of the powerful society of the Temple. In order to complete our view, it only remains to trace its internal government and most important regulations. We shall therefore commence with an account of the chapters, from which all the acts and rules of the society emanated.
It is frequently declared in the statutes, that the Master was in the place of God; and that all his commands were to be obeyed as those of God. But these expressions, which were borrowed from the rule of the Benedictines, are, as we have already seen, not to be understood too literally; for the constitution of the order of the Templars was aristocratic, and not monarchic; and the Master was anything but absolute. In every matter he was to be guided by the opinion of the majority of the chapter.
It is often stated in the rules that the Master stood in the place of God, and that all his commands should be followed as if they were from God. However, these phrases, which were taken from the Benedictine rule, should not be taken too literally, as we have already noted. The Templar order was structured as aristocratic rather than monarchic, and the Master was far from having absolute power. In every decision, he was expected to be guided by the majority opinion of the chapter.
The general chapter, or high legislative assembly of the order, consisted of all the great officers, of the great-priors of the provinces, and the most distinguished of the knights who could attend. Every brother, even the lowest of the serving-brethren, was at liberty to be present as a spectator; but only the proper members of the chapter had the privilege of speaking. The place of holding the chapter was undetermined, and was left to the choice of the Master. All laws and regulations were made or confirmed in[Pg 267] the general chapter: there brethren were received—the great officers appointed—visitors chosen to be sent to the different provinces. It is remarkable, that a papal legate never seems to have been present at a chapter of the Templars; though the legates frequently assisted at those of the other orders. This is, most probably, to be ascribed to the secrecy in which the Templars were pleased to envelope their councils and proceedings; and as they rarely held general chapters, a suitable pretext could not well be wanting for freeing themselves from the presence of the legate when they desired it. Those who impute to the Templars the holding of a secret doctrine naturally regard this as the cause of their not admitting to their chapters those who were not initiated in it.
The general chapter, or high legislative assembly of the order, included all the high-ranking officers, the great-priors of the provinces, and the most notable knights who could attend. Every brother, even the lowest serving members, could be there as a spectator; however, only the official members of the chapter could speak. The location of the chapter meeting was not fixed and was left up to the Master’s choice. All laws and regulations were established or confirmed in[Pg 267] the general chapter: there, brothers were welcomed, great officers were appointed, and visitors were selected to be sent to the various provinces. It’s interesting that a papal legate never seems to have attended a Templar chapter, even though legates frequently participated in those of other orders. This is likely due to the secrecy that the Templars maintained around their councils and decisions; since they rarely held general chapters, they could easily find a valid reason to keep the legate away whenever they wanted. Those who suggest that the Templars had a secret doctrine often see this as the reason for not allowing non-initiates into their chapters.
A general chapter was not often assembled—a circumstance easily to be accounted for. Though the order was wealthy, it might not be well able to bear, without inconvenience, the expense of deputies from all the provinces journeying to the kingdom of Jerusalem, where the chapters were in general held; and further, it was obviously the interest of the Master and the great officers to avoid assembling a body which would at once assume the powers which they were in the habit of exercising.
A general chapter wasn’t called very often—this is easy to understand. Even though the order had money, it may not have been able to handle the cost of sending representatives from all the provinces to the kingdom of Jerusalem, where chapters were usually held. Additionally, it was clearly in the best interest of the Master and the senior officials to avoid gathering a group that would immediately take on the powers they were used to exercising.
In the intervals between the meetings of general chapters, the powers of the order were exercised by the chapter of the Temple at Jerusalem. This was composed of the Master, the dignitaries of the order, such of the provincial masters as happened to be present, the two assistants of the Master, and such knights as he chose to invite to it. This last provision was the great source of the Master's power; and, when he was a man of talent and address, he could, by managing to get his friends and those whom he could depend on into the different offices,[Pg 268] and by summoning to the chapter such knights as were attached or looked up to him, contrive to carry any matters that he desired. The laws, however, by way of check upon him, made it imperative that the high officers of the order should have seats in the chapter; and as these were not appointed by the Master, and were independent of him, it was supposed that they would not be his creatures. This chapter could decide on all matters relating to the order, some important affairs, such as war and peace, excepted; make laws and regulations, which were binding on the whole society; and send visitors to the different provinces. All public documents, such as papal bulls, were addressed to it and the Master; all decisions in matters of importance came from it; and all the brethren who were received in the West were sent to it to be distributed where they might be wanting. The declaration made by a French knight on his examination, that the receptions in the chapter of Jerusalem were rare, as the members could be seldom brought to agree respecting a candidate, gives a hint that it was not in general a scene of the greatest harmony and unity. It is, indeed, but natural to suppose, that, as it was the chief seat of the power of the order, it was also the great theatre of intrigue and cabal.
In the time between the general chapter meetings, the authority of the order was held by the chapter of the Temple in Jerusalem. This chapter included the Master, high-ranking dignitaries of the order, any provincial masters who were present, the two assistants of the Master, and knights that he chose to invite. This last aspect was a major source of the Master's influence; when he was skilled and resourceful, he could fill various positions with his friends and reliable supporters, and bring together knights who were loyal to him, allowing him to push through his desired outcomes. However, the laws set limits on his power by requiring that the high officers of the order have seats in the chapter; since these officers were not appointed by the Master and operated independently, they were expected not to be under his control. This chapter could make decisions on all matters concerning the order, except for key issues like war and peace, create laws and regulations that applied to the entire organization, and send visitors to different provinces. All official documents, including papal bulls, were directed to it and the Master; all significant decisions were made by it; and all new members received in the West were sent to it for assignment where they were needed. A comment made by a French knight during his examination, noting that receptions in the chapter of Jerusalem were rare due to the members often disagreeing on candidates, suggests that it wasn't typically a place of great harmony and unity. It’s reasonable to assume that, being the center of the order’s power, it was also a hotbed of intrigue and plotting.
Each province of the order had its general chapter, and also a smaller one, presided over by the great-prior, and composed of the principal officers and such knights of character and estimation as the prior chose to call to it. In like manner every preceptory and every large house of the order had its chapter, at which all the brethren were required to attend. The commander was president, and each question was decided by the majority of voices. The chief transactions in it consisted in the reception of new brethren, and the making up of quarrels and[Pg 269] disputes, which must have frequently fallen out among men like the Templars, who were almost all soldiers. It was holden early on a Sunday morning; and the strictest secrecy, as to what took place, was enjoined on all present, for secrecy was the soul of the order.
Each province of the order held its general chapter, as well as a smaller one led by the great prior and made up of the main officers and any knights of good standing that the prior chose to invite. Similarly, every preceptory and large house of the order had its chapter, which all the brethren were required to attend. The commander acted as the president, and each issue was decided by majority vote. Key activities included welcoming new brethren and resolving conflicts and disputes that likely arose among men like the Templars, who were mostly soldiers. These meetings took place early on Sunday mornings, and strict confidentiality about what occurred was expected of everyone present, because secrecy was the soul of the order.
The ordinary chapters were held in the following manner. Each brother, as he entered, made the sign of the cross, and, unless he was bald, took off his cap. The president then rose and said, "Stand up, beloved brethren, and pray to God to send his holy grace among us to-day." Each member repeated a pater noster, and, if there was a chaplain present, he said a prayer. Search was then made to see that there was no one present but those who belonged to the order. The president then delivered a discourse, exhorting the brethren to amendment of life. During this discourse no one was on any account to leave the room. When it was ended, any one who had transgressions to acknowledge went up to the president and made confession. He then retired out of sight and hearing, and the sentiments of the assembly were taken, which were afterwards signified to him. The brethren were also to remind each other of their transgressions, and exhort to confession and penitence. If any one accused a brother falsely, he was severely punished for it: while the inquiry was going on the accused was obliged to retire from the chapter. The discipline was usually administered in presence of the assembled chapter, with a scourge, or with a girdle. Those who were sick were not punished till they were recovered.
The regular meetings were conducted like this: Each member, when entering, made the sign of the cross and, unless they were bald, removed their hat. The president would then stand and say, "Stand up, dear brothers, and pray to God to send His holy grace among us today." Each member recited a pater noster, and if a chaplain was present, he would say a prayer. They would then check to ensure that no one was there who didn't belong to the order. The president would then give a talk, encouraging the brothers to improve their lives. During this talk, no one was allowed to leave the room. Once it was over, anyone who had transgressions to confess would approach the president and make their confession. Afterward, he would step out of sight and hearing, and the feelings of the assembly would be gathered and communicated to him. The brothers were also expected to remind each other of their wrongdoings and encourage confession and repentance. If someone falsely accused a brother, they faced serious punishment; while the investigation took place, the accused had to leave the meeting. Discipline was usually carried out in front of the entire assembly, using a scourge or a belt. Those who were ill would not be punished until they had recovered.
When these matters were over, the president explained a portion of the statutes, and exhorted all present to live suitably thereto. He then said, "Beloved brethren, we may now close our chapter, for, praise be to God, all is well; and may God and[Pg 270] our dear Lady grant that it may so continue, and goodness be every day increased. Beloved brethren, ye must know how it is with pardon in our chapter, and who has not part therein; know, then, that those have no part either in the pardon of our chapter, or in the other good works of the chapter; who live as they should not; who depart from the righteousness of the order; who do not acknowledge their offences and do penance in the mode prescribed by the order; who treat the alms of the order as their own property, or in any other way contrary to law, and squander them in an unrighteous, scandalous, and foolish manner. But those who honestly acknowledge their faults, and conceal nothing out of shame or fear of the punishment of the order, and are right sorry for their transgressions, have a large share in the forgiveness of our chapter, and in the good works which take place in our order. And to such, in virtue of my authority, I dispense forgiveness in the name of God and of our dear Lady, in the names of the apostles Peter and Paul, of our father the pope, and of you all who have given me authority; and pray to God that, according to his mercy, he will, for the merits of his mother, and of himself, and all the saints, forgive you your sins, as he forgave the famous Mary Magdalene." He then implored the forgiveness of those to whom he might have given any offence or done any injury; and prayed for peace, for the church, for the holy kingdom of Jerusalem, for the order and all its houses and people, for the brethren and sisters of the order, and for its living and dead benefactors; finally, for all the dead who waited for the mercy of God, especially those who lay buried in the Temple burial-grounds, and for the souls of the fathers and mothers of the Templars. The chaplain, if present, repeated a confession of sin, in which all followed him, and then[Pg 271] pronounced an absolution. If there was no chaplain present, each brother repeated a pater and an ave, and so the chapter ended.
Once these matters were taken care of, the president explained part of the rules and encouraged everyone present to live accordingly. He then said, "Dear brothers, we can now close our meeting, for, thanks to God, everything is well; and may God and [Pg 270] our beloved Lady allow it to continue that way, and may goodness increase every day. Dear brothers, you should understand the stance on forgiveness in our meeting, and who is excluded from it; know that those who do not have a share in our forgiveness, nor in the other good works of the meeting, are those who live improperly; who stray from the righteousness of our order; who fail to acknowledge their wrongdoings and do not do penance as required by our order; who treat the charity of the order as their own property, or in any way contrary to the rules, and waste it in an unjust, disgraceful, and foolish manner. However, those who honestly admit their faults and hide nothing out of shame or fear of punishment, and are truly sorry for their wrongs, have a significant share in our chapter’s forgiveness and in the good works of our order. And to such individuals, by virtue of my authority, I grant forgiveness in the name of God and our beloved Lady, in the names of the apostles Peter and Paul, of our father the pope, and of all of you who have given me this authority; and I pray to God that, in accordance with His mercy, for the merits of His mother, Himself, and all the saints, He will forgive you your sins, just as He forgave the well-known Mary Magdalene." He then asked for forgiveness from anyone he might have offended or harmed; and prayed for peace, for the church, for the holy kingdom of Jerusalem, for the order and all its houses and members, for the brothers and sisters of the order, and for its living and deceased benefactors; finally, for all the deceased awaiting God's mercy, especially those buried in the Temple burial grounds, and for the souls of the fathers and mothers of the Templars. If the chaplain was present, he repeated a confession of sin, which everyone followed, and then [Pg 271] pronounced an absolution. If there was no chaplain present, each brother recited a pater and an ave, and thus the meeting concluded.
The statutes of the order are full of the most minute directions respecting the equipment, clothing, and mode of living of the various members of the order. They were obliged to attend divine service punctually each day at all the different hours at which it was celebrated, and regularly to observe all the fasts of the church; they were also to have at their houses both public and private devotions. Their meals were also strictly regulated. They assembled by sound of bell: if there was a priest in the house he said grace for them, if not, each brother repeated a pater before he began to eat. During the meal a clergyman read out something edifying for them, and when it was over no one was to speak till grace was said. There was no difference made in the quality of the food; all, both high and low, fared alike, and they ate two off one plate. They had flesh-meat but three times a week, unless when festival days occurred. On days when they had no flesh-meat they had but two dishes. When the order were in the field a server regulated the supply and distribution of provisions. Before giving out the provisions he was to direct the serving-brethren to notify it to the superiors of the order, that they might come and select the best for themselves; he distributed the remainder without any other distinction than that of giving the best to the sick. The plate given to every two of the brethren was so large that what remained when they were done was sufficient to satisfy two of the poor. Two brethren were allowed as much food as three Turcopoles, and two of these as much as three of the servants. The brethren were not allowed to seek for any food elsewhere than from the server, vegetables, game, and venison excepted. But as by[Pg 272] the rules of the order the chase was prohibited to them, they could not procure these themselves.
The rules of the order include very detailed instructions about the gear, clothing, and lifestyle of its members. They had to attend daily religious services on time, observing all the church's fasting days, and maintain both public and private devotions at home. Their meals were also strictly controlled. They gathered at the sound of a bell: if a priest was present, he would say grace; if not, each brother would say a pater before starting to eat. During meals, a clergyman would read something uplifting, and once finished, no one was allowed to speak until grace was said. There was no distinction made in the quality of food; everyone ate the same, sharing from one plate. They only had meat three times a week, unless it was a feast day. On days without meat, they had just two dishes. When the order was in the field, a server managed the supply and distribution of food. Before distributing provisions, he had to instruct the serving brothers to inform the order’s superiors so they could choose the best for themselves; the rest was handed out without distinction, except the best went to the sick. The plate shared by every two brothers was large enough that what was left could satisfy two poor people. Two brothers were given as much food as three Turcopoles, and two of these received as much as three servants. The brothers were not allowed to look for food anywhere else except from the server, except for vegetables, game, and venison. However, since hunting was forbidden by the order's rules, they couldn't obtain these on their own.
Amusements could not be rigorously prohibited to men who were semi-secular, and had to mingle so much in the world as the Templars. They were therefore allowed to tilt, but only with headless lances; whether only among themselves, or also at public tournaments, is uncertain[92]. They were permitted to run races with their horses, but for no higher wager than a headless cross-bow bolt, or some other trifle. Chess and draughts were prohibited games; nor were they allowed to play at any other game whatever for a stake. Hawking was absolutely forbidden to the Templar, probably on account of the high price of hawks, and of this being the favourite amusement of the secular knights. The reason assigned by the statutes is:—"Because it is not seemly in the members of an order to play sinfully, but willingly to hearken to the commands of God, to pray often, and daily in their prayers before God to bewail their sins with weeping and tears." A Templar might not even accompany one who was going out a-hawking. Moreover, as shouting and bawling were unseemly in a member of an order, he might not go a-hunting in a wood with bow and crossbow, nor accompany any one thus engaged, except to protect him against the heathen. In fine, every species of chase was forbidden to the Templar, except that of the lion 'who goes about seeking whom he may devour, whose hand is against every one, and every one's hand against him'[93].
Amusements couldn't be completely banned for men who were semi-secular and had to interact with the world like the Templars. They were allowed to joust, but only with headless lances; whether this was just among themselves or also at public tournaments is unclear[92]. They could race their horses, but only for a wager no higher than a headless crossbow bolt or some other small item. Chess and checkers were banned, and they weren't allowed to gamble on any other games either. Falconry was strictly off-limits for Templars, probably due to the high cost of hawks and it being a favorite pastime of secular knights. The rule states: "Because it is not appropriate for the members of an order to engage in sinful play, but instead to willingly listen to God’s commands, pray often, and daily lament their sins with weeping and tears." A Templar couldn't even accompany someone going falconing. Additionally, since shouting and yelling were inappropriate for a member of an order, they couldn't go hunting with a bow and crossbow or accompany anyone else in that activity, except to protect them from the heathens. In summary, every type of hunting was banned for the Templar, except for hunting the lion 'who goes about seeking whom he may devour, whose hand is against everyone, and everyone’s hand is against him'[93].
The battle was the Templar's scene of glory, and[Pg 273] consequently every thing relating to the conduct of the order in war was strictly regulated. On the march the Templars, as the guardians of the holy cross, formed the vanguard of the Christian army; in the array they were in the right wing. The Hospitallers usually formed the rear-guard, and in the field were posted on the left. The Templars mounted and set forward at the voice of their marshal, the standard-bearer preceding them with the standard of the order. They moved in a walk or a small trot. The march usually took place by night, on account of the heat of eastern climes, and every precaution was adopted to prevent confusion or inconvenience. When the standard halted for encampment, the marshal selected a place for his own tent and the chapel, which was to contain the true cross; the tents of the server, and of the great-prior of the province, had also their places marked out. It was then cried out, "Brethren, pitch your tents in the name of God!" on which each Templar forthwith raised his tent in his rank. All the tents were around the chapel, outside of its cords. The herald pitched by the standard. No brother was allowed, on any account, to go out of hearing of the war-cry, or to visit the quarters of any others than the Hospitallers, in case these last should be encamped beside them. The place for encamping was selected by the prior of the province in which the war was, who was therefore in some sort quartermaster-general; the marshal assigned the different quarters, and over each he set a knight-preceptor to govern and regulate it.
The battle was the Templar's moment of glory, and[Pg 273] because of this, everything related to how the order conducted itself in war was strictly controlled. While marching, the Templars, as the protectors of the holy cross, led the Christian army at the front; in formation, they took position on the right wing. The Hospitallers typically made up the rear guard and were stationed on the left during battle. The Templars mounted their horses and moved out at the command of their marshal, with the standard-bearer leading them holding the order's flag. They advanced at a walking pace or a slow trot. Marching usually occurred at night due to the heat of the eastern lands, and every measure was taken to avoid confusion or inconvenience. When the standard stopped to set up camp, the marshal chose a location for his own tent and the chapel that would house the true cross; the tents of the server and the great prior of the province also had designated spots. Then the shout went out, "Brethren, pitch your tents in the name of God!" at which point each Templar immediately set up their tent in their assigned place. All the tents were arranged around the chapel, outside its ropes. The herald set up next to the standard. No brother was allowed, under any circumstances, to stray out of earshot of the war cry or visit the quarters of anyone other than the Hospitallers, unless those were camped nearby. The camping site was chosen by the prior of the province where the war was happening, making him somewhat of a quartermaster-general; the marshal assigned the various quarters and appointed a knight-preceptor to oversee and manage each area.
When the battle commenced, the marshal usually took the standard out of the hands of the sub-marshal and unfurled it in the name of God. He then nominated from five to ten of the brethren to[Pg 274] surround and guard it; one of these he made a knight-preceptor, who was to keep close by him with a banner furled on a spear, that, in case of that which the marshal carried being torn, or having fallen, or met with any other mishap, he might display it. If the marshal was wounded or surrounded, this knight was to raise the banner in his stead. No one was to lower a banner, or thrust with it, on any account, for fear of causing confusion. The brethren were to fight on all sides, and in every way in which they could annoy the foe, but still to keep near enough to be able to defend the banner of the order, if needful. But if a Templar saw a Christian in imminent danger, he was at liberty to follow the dictates of his conscience, and hasten to his relief. He was to return to his place as speedily as possible; but if the Turks had gotten between him and the banner, he was to join the nearest Christian squadron, giving the preference to the Hospitallers, if they were at hand. Should the Christians meet with defeat, the Templar, under penalty of expulsion from the order, was not to quit the field so long as the banner of the order flew; and, should there be no red-cross flag to be seen, he was to join that of the Hospitallers, or any other. Should every Christian banner have disappeared, he was to retreat as well as he could.
When the battle started, the marshal typically took the standard from the sub-marshal and unfurled it in the name of God. He then chose five to ten of the brethren to[Pg 274] surround and protect it. One of them was made a knight-preceptor, who was to stay close to him with a banner furled on a spear, so that if the marshal’s banner was torn, dropped, or faced any other issue, he could display it. If the marshal was wounded or surrounded, this knight was to raise the banner in his place. No one was allowed to lower a banner or use it as a weapon under any circumstances, to avoid causing confusion. The brethren were to fight from all sides and in every way they could to annoy the enemy, but still stay close enough to defend the banner of the order if necessary. However, if a Templar saw a Christian in immediate danger, he was free to follow his conscience and rush to help. He was to return to his spot as quickly as possible; but if the Turks were between him and the banner, he was to join the nearest Christian squadron, giving preference to the Hospitallers if they were nearby. If the Christians were defeated, the Templar, under the risk of being expelled from the order, was not to leave the battlefield as long as the order’s banner was flying; and if there was no red-cross flag visible, he was to join the Hospitallers' banner or any others. If all Christian banners had vanished, he was to retreat as best as he could.
Such were the military principles of the order of the Temple—principles which,
Such were the military principles of the Order of the Temple—principles which,
and never, unquestionably, was more unflinching valour displayed than by the Templars. Where all were brave and daring as the fabled heroes of romance, the Templar was still regarded as prominent, and the Cardinal of Vitry could thus speak of them in[Pg 275] the early part of the thirteenth century, when they may be regarded as somewhat declined from their original elevation:—
and never, without a doubt, was more unwavering courage shown than by the Templars. While everyone was brave and bold like the legendary heroes of stories, the Templar still stood out, and the Cardinal of Vitry could thus talk about them in[Pg 275] the early part of the thirteenth century, when they could be seen as somewhat diminished from their initial greatness:—
"They seek to expel the enemies of the cross of Christ from the lands of the Christians, by fighting manfully, and by moving to battle at the signal and command of him who is at the head of their forces, not impetuously or disorderly, but prudently and with all caution—the first in advance, the last in retreat; nor is it permitted to them to turn their backs in flight, or to retreat without orders. They are become so formidable to the adversaries of the faith of Christ, that one chases a thousand, and two ten thousand; not asking, when there is a call to arms, how many they are, but where they are: lions in war, gentle lambs at home; rugged warriors on an expedition, like monks and eremites in the church." The language of the worthy cardinal is no doubt declamatory and rhetorical, and some deduction must consequently be made from it; but still enough will remain to prove that the chivalry of the Temple must still have retained no small portion of the virtues for which they had been originally renowned.
"They aim to drive out the enemies of the cross of Christ from Christian lands by fighting bravely and responding to the call and command of their leader, not recklessly or chaotically, but wisely and with great care—the first to advance and the last to retreat; they are not allowed to turn and flee or to retreat without orders. They have become so formidable to the enemies of Christ's faith that one can chase a thousand, and two can chase ten thousand; when called to arms, they don’t ask how many are there, but where they are: fierce lions in battle, gentle lambs at home; tough warriors on an expedition, like monks and hermits in the church." The words of the esteemed cardinal are undoubtedly grandiose and rhetorical, so some interpretation must be made; but enough remains to show that the chivalry of the Temple must still have retained many of the virtues for which they were originally celebrated.
Chapter 9.
Molay elected Master—Last attempt of the Christians in Syria—Conduct of the Three Military Orders—Philip the Fair and Pope Boniface VIII.—Seizure of the Pope—Election of Clement V.—The Papal See removed to France—Causes of Philip's enmity to the Templars—Arrival of Molay in France—His interviews with the Pope—Charges made against the Templars—Seizure of the Knights—Proceedings in England—Nature of the Charges against the Order.
We have, in what precedes, traced the order of the Templars from its institution to the period when the Latin dominion was overthrown for ever on the coast of Syria, and have described, at some length, its internal organisation, and exhibited its power and extent of possessions. It remains for us to tell how this mighty order was suddenly annihilated, to examine the charges made against it[94], and, as we have promised, to establish the falsehood and futility of them—a task far from ungrateful, though not unattended with pain; for it is of advantage to strengthen our love of justice and hatred of tyranny and oppression, by vindicating the memory even of those who perished their victims centuries agone. It is also of use to furnish one instance more to the world of the operation of the principle which will be found so generally[Pg 277] to prevail, that, let falsehood and sophistry exert their utmost to conceal the truth, means will always remain of refuting them, and of displaying vice, however high seated, in its true colours.
We have, in the previous sections, traced the history of the Templars from their foundation to the time when the Latin rule was permanently ended on the Syrian coast, and have described in detail their internal structure and shown their power and the extent of their possessions. Now, we need to explain how this powerful order was suddenly destroyed, to review the accusations made against it[94], and, as we've promised, to prove that these accusations are completely false and pointless—a task that is not without its challenges, but also rewarding; it helps reinforce our sense of justice and our disdain for tyranny and oppression by defending the memory of those who were victims over the centuries. It also serves as another example of the principle that no matter how hard falsehood and deception try to hide the truth, there will always be ways to refute them and to reveal vice, no matter how powerful, in its true light.
In the year 1297, when the order had established its head-quarters in the isle of Cyprus, James de Molay, a native of Besançon, in the Franche Comté, was elected Master. The character of Molay appears to have been at all times noble and estimable; but if we are to credit the statement of a knight named Hugh de Travaux, he attained his dignity by an artifice not unlike that said to have been employed by Sixtus V. for arriving at the papacy. The chapter, according to De Travaux, could not agree, one part being for Molay, the other, and the stronger, for Hugh de Peyraud. Molay, seeing that he had little chance of success, assured some of the principal knights that he did not covet the office, and would himself vote for his competitor. Believing him, they joyfully made him great-prior. His tone now altered. "The mantle is done, now put the hood on it. You have made me great-prior, and whether you will or not I will be great-master also." The astounded knights instantly chose him.
In 1297, when the order had set up its headquarters on the island of Cyprus, James de Molay, who was from Besançon in the Franche Comté, was elected Master. Molay's character seems to have always been noble and admirable; however, if we believe the account of a knight named Hugh de Travaux, he achieved his position through a clever trick similar to what Sixtus V. supposedly did to become pope. According to De Travaux, the chapter was divided, with one side supporting Molay and the stronger side backing Hugh de Peyraud. Noticing he had little chance of winning, Molay assured some of the leading knights that he didn't want the position and would vote for his opponent. Trusting him, they happily made him great-prior. His demeanor then changed. "The mantle is done, now put the hood on it. You have made me great-prior, and whether you like it or not, I will be great-master as well." The shocked knights immediately chose him.
If this account be true, the mode of election at this time must have differed very considerably from that which we have described above out of the statutes of the order. This election, moreover, took place in France, where, in 1297, Molay, we are told, held the fourth son of the king at the baptismal font.
If this account is accurate, the way elections were conducted back then must have been quite different from what we detailed earlier based on the order's statutes. Additionally, this election occurred in France, where, in 1297, Molay, we’re told, held the fourth son of the king at the baptismal font.
One feeble attempt, the last military exploit of the Templars, was made by the Christians to acquire once more a footing on the continent of Asia during the mastership of Molay. In 1300, the Mongol chief Gazan came to the aid of the king of Armenia, against the Turks. As it was the policy of the Tartars, who had not as yet embraced Islam, to stir up enemies to the Mohammedans, Gazan, after[Pg 278] over-running the country as far as Damascus, sent an embassy to the Pope, Boniface VIII., inviting the Christians, particularly the three military orders, to come and take possession of the Holy Land. The Templars, Hospitallers, and Henry, king of Cyprus, forthwith manned seven galleys and five smaller vessels. Almeric de Lusignan, Lord of Tyre, and the Masters of the two orders, landed at Tortosa, and endeavoured to maintain that islet against the Egyptian sultan, but were forced to yield to numbers. The Templars fought gallantly to no purpose, and a few of them, who defended a tower into which they had thrown themselves, surrendered, and were carried prisoners to Egypt.
One weak attempt, the final military action of the Templars, was made by the Christians to regain a presence on the continent of Asia during Molay's leadership. In 1300, the Mongol leader Gazan came to the aid of the king of Armenia against the Turks. Since the Tartars had not yet converted to Islam, it was their strategy to create enemies for the Mohammedans. After [Pg 278] invading the country as far as Damascus, Gazan sent an invitation to Pope Boniface VIII., encouraging Christians, especially the three military orders, to come and take possession of the Holy Land. The Templars, Hospitallers, and Henry, king of Cyprus, quickly manned seven galleys and five smaller vessels. Almeric de Lusignan, Lord of Tyre, and the Masters of the two orders landed at Tortosa and tried to hold that area against the Egyptian sultan, but were overwhelmed by larger numbers. The Templars fought bravely but to no avail, and a few of them, who barricaded themselves in a tower, eventually surrendered and were taken captive to Egypt.
The Hospitallers, in the year 1306, renewed their attacks on the isle of Rhodes, where they finally succeeded in expelling the Turks, and planting the standard of their order. The Teutonic knights transferred the sphere of their warfare to Russia, and the adjacent country, whose inhabitants were still heathens. The Templars meantime remained inactive in Cyprus, and seem even to have been meditating a retreat to Europe.
The Hospitallers, in 1306, intensified their efforts against the island of Rhodes, where they ultimately managed to drive out the Turks and raise their order's flag. The Teutonic Knights shifted their focus to Russia and its neighboring areas, where the locals were still pagans. Meanwhile, the Templars stayed idle in Cyprus and appeared to be considering a return to Europe.
France was at this time governed by Philip the Fair, son of St. Louis. Philip, who had come to the throne at the early age of seventeen years, had been educated by Giles de Colonna, afterwards archbishop of Bourges, a man distinguished for his learning and for the boldness of his opinions. One of his favourite maxims was, "that Jesus Christ had not given any temporal dominion to his church, and that the king of France has his authority from God alone." Such principles having been early instilled into his mind, the young monarch was not likely to be a very dutiful son of the Church, and the character of Boniface VIII., who, without possessing the talents or the virtues of a Gregory or an Innocent, attempted to stretch the papal pretensions to their greatest extent,[Pg 279] soon roused him to resistance. In the plenitude of his fancied authority, the pope issued a bull, forbidding the clergy to give any subsidies to lay-powers without permission from Rome. Philip, in return, issued an order prohibiting the exportation of gold, silver, or merchandize from France, thereby cutting off a great source of papal revenue. In the course of the dispute, Boniface maintained that princes were subject to him in temporals also. Philip's reply was,—"Philip, by the grace of God, king of the French, to Boniface, acting as supreme pontiff, little or no health. Let your extreme folly know, that in temporals we are not subject to any one." Shortly afterwards he publicly burned a bull of the pope, and proclaimed the deed by sound of trumpet in Paris. Boniface, raving with indignation, summoned the French clergy to Rome, to deliberate on the means of preserving the liberties of the Church. Philip convoked a national assembly to Paris, in which, for the first time, there appeared deputies of the third estate, who readily expressed their resolution to stand by their monarch in defence of his rights, and the clergy willingly denied the temporal jurisdiction of the pontiff. Several prelates and abbots having obeyed the summons of the pope, the king seized on their temporalities. The pope menaced with deprivation all those who had not attended, and, in his famous bull of Unam sanctam, asserted that every human being was subject to the Roman pontiff. Another bull declared that every person, be his rank what it might, was bound to appear personally when summoned to Rome. Philip forbade the publication of these bulls; and the states general being again convoked appealed to a council against the pope. Commissaries were sent through France to procure the adhesion of the clergy to this act, which was given in some cases voluntarily, in others obtained by means of a little wholesome rigour. The king, his wife, and his son,[Pg 280] pledged themselves to stand by those who adhered to the resistance made by France to papal usurpation. Boniface next excommunicated the king, who intercepted the bull, and prevented its publication. The pope finally offered the crown of France to the emperor Albert of Austria. Matters were now come to an extremity, and Philip ventured on one of the boldest acts that have ever been attempted in the Christian world.
France was ruled at this time by Philip the Fair, son of St. Louis. Philip, who became king at just seventeen, had been educated by Giles de Colonna, who later became the Archbishop of Bourges, known for his intelligence and strong opinions. One of his favorite sayings was that "Jesus Christ did not grant any worldly power to his church, and that the king of France gets his authority solely from God." With such beliefs instilled in him from an early age, the young king was unlikely to be a very compliant son of the Church, and the character of Boniface VIII., who, lacking the talents or virtues of a Gregory or an Innocent, tried to expand papal claims to their limits,[Pg 279] quickly spurred him into opposition. In the height of his imagined authority, the pope issued a bull that prohibited the clergy from giving any support to secular leaders without permission from Rome. In retaliation, Philip ordered a ban on exporting gold, silver, or goods from France, cutting off a significant source of revenue for the pope. During the conflict, Boniface claimed that princes were subject to him in worldly matters as well. Philip responded: "Philip, by the grace of God, king of the French, to Boniface, acting as supreme pontiff, wishes you little or no health. Take note of your extreme folly; in worldly matters, we are subject to no one." Shortly after, he publicly burned a papal bull and announced the act by trumpet sound in Paris. Boniface, furious with indignation, summoned the French clergy to Rome to discuss how to protect the Church's liberties. In response, Philip called a national assembly in Paris, where, for the first time, representatives of the third estate appeared, expressing their commitment to support their king in defending his rights, while the clergy willingly denied the papacy's authority in worldly matters. When several prelates and abbots heeded the pope's summons, the king seized their properties. The pope threatened to strip of their positions anyone who did not attend, and in his famous bull of Unam sanctam, claimed that every person was subject to the Roman pontiff. Another bull stated that everyone, regardless of rank, had to appear personally when summoned to Rome. Philip prohibited the publication of these bulls, and once again called the states general to appeal to a council against the pope. Commissioners were sent throughout France to secure the clergy's support for this action, which in some cases was given voluntarily, while in others it was obtained with a firm hand. The king, his wife, and his son,[Pg 280] committed to standing by those who resisted papal overreach. Boniface then excommunicated the king, who intercepted the bull and stopped its publication. The pope ultimately offered the crown of France to the Emperor Albert of Austria. Things had reached a breaking point, and Philip proceeded with one of the boldest actions ever taken in the Christian world.
Philip had afforded an asylum at his court to some members of the Colonna family, the personal enemies of the pope. His chancellor and fast adherent was William de Nogaret, who had been his agent in the affair of appealing to a general council, by presenting to the states general a charge of simony, magic, and the usual real or imaginary crimes of the day against the pontiff. This man, and some of the Italian exiles, attended by a body of 300 horse, set out for Italy, and took up his abode at a castle between Florence and Sienna, under pretext of its being a convenient situation for carrying on negociations with Rome. The pope was meantime residing at Anagni, his native town. Nogaret having, by a liberal distribution of money, acquired a sufficient number of partisans, appeared before the gate of Anagni early on the morning of the 7th September, 1303. The gate was opened by a traitor, and the French and their partisans ran through the streets, crying Live the king of France, die Boniface. They entered the palace without opposition; the French ran here and there in search of plunder, and Sciarra Colonna and his Italians alone came in presence of the pope. Boniface, who was now eighty-six years of age, was clad in his pontifical vestments, and on his knees before the altar, in expectation of death. At the sight of him the conspirators, whose intention had been to slay him, stopped short, filled with involuntary awe, and did not dare to lay a hand upon him. During three[Pg 281] days they kept him a prisoner; on the fourth the people of the town rose and expelled them, and released the pontiff. Boniface returned to Rome; but rage at the humiliation which he had undergone deranged his intellect, and in one of his paroxysms he dashed his head against the wall of his chamber, and died in consequence of the injury which he received[95].
Philip had offered shelter at his court to some members of the Colonna family, who were personal enemies of the pope. His chancellor and close ally was William de Nogaret, who had acted as his agent in appealing to a general council by presenting a charge to the estates general against the pontiff for simony, magic, and various other common accusations of the time. This man, along with some Italian exiles and a group of 300 horsemen, headed to Italy and settled in a castle between Florence and Siena, claiming it was a convenient location for negotiating with Rome. Meanwhile, the pope was residing in Anagni, his hometown. By generously distributing money, Nogaret won enough supporters and showed up at the gates of Anagni early in the morning of September 7, 1303. A traitor opened the gate, and the French and their supporters rushed through the streets, shouting Long live the king of France, death to Boniface. They entered the palace without resistance; the French scattered in search of loot, and only Sciarra Colonna and his Italians came before the pope. Boniface, who was now eighty-six years old, was dressed in his papal robes and on his knees before the altar, expecting death. When the conspirators saw him, their original intent to kill him faltered, and they were filled with unintentional reverence, feeling too intimidated to harm him. They kept him imprisoned for three[Pg 281] days; on the fourth day, the townspeople rose up and expelled them, freeing the pontiff. Boniface returned to Rome, but the humiliation he suffered affected his mind, and in one of his fits of rage, he slammed his head against the wall of his room and died from the injury he sustained[95].
Benedict XI., the successor of Boniface, absolved Philip, and his ministers and subjects, from the sentence of excommunication. As he felt his power, he was proceeding to more vigorous measures to avenge the insulted dignity of the holy see, when he died of poison, administered, as a contemporary historian asserts, by the agents of Philip. During ten months the conclave were unable to agree on his successor among the Italian cardinals. It was then proposed by the partisans of the king of France, that one party in the conclave should name three ultramontane prelates, from among whom the other party should select one. The choice fell on Bertrand de Gotte, archbishop of Bordeaux, who had many serious causes of enmity to Philip and his brother Charles of Valois. Philip's friend, the cardinal of Prato, instantly sent off a courier with the news, advising the king to acquiesce in the election as soon as he had secured him to his interest. Philip set out for Gascony, and had a private interview with the pontiff elect, in an abbey in the midst of a forest near St. Jean d'Angély. Having sworn mutual secresy, the king told the prelate that it was in his power to make him pope on condition of his granting him six favours. He showed him his proofs, and the ambitious Gascon, falling at his feet, promised everything. The six favours demanded by Philip were a perfect reconciliation with the Church; admission to the communion for himself[Pg 282] and friends; the tithes of the clergy of France for five years, to defray the expenses of his war in Flanders; the persecution and destruction of the memory of Pope Boniface; the conferring the dignity of cardinal on James and Peter Colonna. "The sixth favour," said he, "is great and secret, and I reserve the asking of it for a suitable time and place." The prelate swore on the host, and gave his brother and two of his nephews as hostages. The king then sent orders to the cardinal of Prato, to elect the archbishop of Bordeaux, who took the name of Clement V.
Benedict XI, the successor of Boniface, lifted the excommunication against Philip, his ministers, and subjects. Feeling empowered, he was ready to take stronger action to defend the dignity of the papacy when he was poisoned, allegedly by agents of Philip, according to a contemporary historian. For ten months, the conclave struggled to agree on a successor among the Italian cardinals. It was then suggested by the supporters of the king of France that one faction in the conclave should propose three candidates from outside Italy, allowing the other faction to choose one. The selection landed on Bertrand de Gotte, the Archbishop of Bordeaux, who had significant personal reasons to resent Philip and his brother Charles of Valois. Philip’s ally, the Cardinal of Prato, immediately dispatched a courier with the news, advising the king to accept the election as soon as he could secure the archbishop’s support. Philip traveled to Gascony and had a private meeting with the pope-elect in an abbey in a forest near St. Jean d'Angély. After they agreed to keep the meeting a secret, the king informed the prelate that he could make him pope if he granted him six favors. He presented his demands, and the ambitious Gascon, falling at the king's feet, promised everything. The six favors Philip requested included a complete reconciliation with the Church; admission to communion for himself and his friends; the collection of tithes from the clergy of France for five years to fund his war in Flanders; the investigation and discrediting of Pope Boniface’s legacy; and bestowing the title of cardinal on James and Peter Colonna. "The sixth favor," he added, "is significant and secret, and I will request it at a more appropriate time and place." The prelate swore on the Eucharist and offered his brother and two of his nephews as hostages. The king then ordered the Cardinal of Prato to elect the Archbishop of Bordeaux, who took the name Clement V.
Whether urged by the vanity of shining in the eyes of his countrymen, or by dread of the tyranny exercised by the cardinals over his predecessors, or, what seems more probable, in compliance with the wishes of Philip, or in consequence of impediments thrown by that monarch in the way of his departure, Clement, to the dismay of all Christendom, instead of repairing to Rome, summoned the cardinals to Lyons for his coronation. They reluctantly obeyed, and he was crowned in that city on the 17th December, 1305, the king, his brother, and his principal nobles, assisting at the ceremony. Clement forthwith created twelve new cardinals, all creatures of Philip, whose most devoted slave the pope showed himself to be on all occasions. His promises to him were most punctually fulfilled, with the exception of that respecting the memory of Boniface, which the cardinal of Prato proved to Philip it would be highly impolitic and dangerous to perform; but Clement cheerfully authorised him to seize, on the festival of St. Madelaine, all the Jews in his kingdom, to banish them, and confiscate their property in the name of religion.
Whether motivated by the desire to impress his fellow countrymen, fear of the power the cardinals held over his predecessors, or more likely, to please Philip, or due to obstacles that Philip put in his way, Clement, to the shock of all Christendom, chose to summon the cardinals to Lyons for his coronation instead of going to Rome. They reluctantly complied, and he was crowned in that city on December 17, 1305, with the king, his brother, and other important nobles present for the ceremony. Clement immediately made twelve new cardinals, all loyal to Philip, proving himself to be Philip’s most devoted ally at every opportunity. He fulfilled all his promises to Philip, except for the one concerning the memory of Boniface, which the cardinal of Prato advised Philip would be unwise and risky to carry out; however, Clement happily permitted him to round up all the Jews in his kingdom on the feast of St. Madelaine, to banish them and seize their property in the name of religion.
What the sixth and secret grace which Philip required was is unknown. Many conjectures have been made to little purpose. It is not at all improbable that the king had at the time no definite object[Pg 283] in view, and that, like the fabled grant of Neptune to Theseus, it was to be claimed whenever an occasion of sufficient importance should present itself.
What the sixth and secret grace that Philip wanted is unknown. Many guesses have been made, but they lead nowhere. It's quite possible that the king had no specific goal in mind at that moment, and that, similar to Neptune's mythical gift to Theseus, it would be claimed whenever an opportunity of sufficient significance arose.
Such as we have described them were Philip and the sovereign pontiff; the one able, daring, rapacious, ambitious, and unprincipled; the other mean, submissive, and little scrupulous. As it was the object of Philip to depress the papal power, and make it subservient to his ambition, he must naturally have desired to deprive it of support. The Templars, therefore, who had been on all occasions the staunch partizans of the papacy, must on this account alone have been objects of his aversion; they had, moreover, loudly exclaimed against his repeated adulteration of the coin, by which they sustained so much injury; and they were very urgent in their demands for repayment of the money which they had lent him on the occasion of the marriage of his daughter Isabella with the son of the king of England. Their wealth was great; their possessions in France were most extensive; they were connected with the noblest families in the realm; they were consequently, now that they seemed to have given up all idea of making any farther efforts in the East, likely to prove a serious obstacle in the way of the establishment of the absolute power of the crown. They were finally very generally disliked on account of their excessive pride and arrogance, and it was to be expected that in an attack on their power and privileges the popular favour would be with the king. These motives will, we apprehend, sufficiently account for Philip's anxiety to give a check to the order, beyond which, as it would appear, his plans did not at first extend. We cannot venture to say when this project first entered the mind of king Philip; whether he had the Hospitallers also in view, and whether he impelled the pope to invite the Masters of the two orders to France.[Pg 284]
Philip and the pope were as we've described; one was capable, bold, greedy, ambitious, and unscrupulous, while the other was petty, submissive, and not very principled. Since Philip aimed to weaken the papal power and make it serve his ambitions, he naturally wanted to eliminate its support. The Templars, who had always been loyal allies of the papacy, became targets of his hatred for this reason alone; they had also loudly protested against his repeated devaluation of the coin, which caused them significant harm. Additionally, they were quite insistent on getting repaid for the money they lent him during the marriage of his daughter Isabella to the son of the king of England. Their wealth was substantial; their holdings in France were extensive; they were connected to the most prestigious families in the kingdom, and now that it seemed they had given up any further efforts in the East, they were likely to be a serious barrier to the establishment of the crown's absolute power. They were generally disliked for their extreme pride and arrogance, so it was expected that the public would side with the king in any attack on their power and privileges. These factors likely explain Philip's eagerness to curtail the order, which, it seems, was as far as his plans initially went. We cannot say when this idea first crossed King Philip's mind, whether he also targeted the Hospitallers, or if he urged the pope to invite the Masters of both orders to France.[Pg 284]
As the rivalry and ill-feeling between the two orders had long been regarded as one of the principal causes of the little success of the Christians in the East, the idea of uniting them had been conceived, and Gregory X. and St. Louis had striven, but in vain, at the council at Lyons, to effect it. Pope Boniface VIII. had also been anxious to bring this project to bear, and Clement now resolved to attempt it. On the 6th June, 1306, only six months after his coronation, he wrote to the Masters of the two orders to the following effect;—The kings of Armenia and Cyprus were calling on him for aid; he therefore wished to confer with them, who knew the country well, and were so much interested in it, as to what were best to be done, and desired that they would come to him as secretly as possible, and with a very small train, as they would find plenty of their knights on this side of the sea; he directed them to provide for the defence of Limisso during their absence.
As the rivalry and hostility between the two orders had long been seen as one of the main reasons for the limited success of Christians in the East, the idea of uniting them was proposed. Gregory X and St. Louis had tried, but unsuccessfully, at the council in Lyons to achieve this. Pope Boniface VIII had also wanted to bring this plan to fruition, and now Clement decided to give it a shot. On June 6, 1306, just six months after his coronation, he wrote to the Masters of the two orders saying that the kings of Armenia and Cyprus were asking for his help; therefore, he wanted to discuss with them, as they knew the region well and were very invested in it, about the best course of action. He asked them to come to him as discreetly as possible and with a very small entourage, as they would find plenty of their knights on this side of the sea; he instructed them to make arrangements for the defense of Limisso during their absence.
The Master of the Hospital, William de Villaret, was, when the letter arrived, engaged in the attack on Rhodes, and, therefore, could not obey the summons. But De Molay, the Master of the Temple, having confided Limisso and the direction of the order to the marshal, embarked with sixty of his most distinguished knights, taking with him the treasure of the order, consisting of 150,000 florins of gold, and so much silver, that the whole formed the lading of twelve horses. When they arrived in France, he proceeded to Paris, where the king received him with the greatest marks of favour and distinction, and he deposited the treasure in the Temple of that city. Shortly afterwards he set out for Poitiers, where he had an interview with Clement, who consulted him on the affairs of the East. On the subject of a new crusade, Molay gave it as his opinion that nothing but a simultaneous effort of all the Christian powers[Pg 285] would be of any avail. He objected to the union of the orders on the following grounds, which were, on the whole, sufficiently frivolous. He said, 1st. That what is new is not always the best; that the orders, as they were, had done good service in Palestine, and, in short, used the good old argument of anti-reformists, It works well. 2dly. That as the orders were spiritual as well as temporal, and many a one had entered them for the weal of his soul, it might not be a matter of indifference to such to leave the one which he had selected and enter another. 3dly. There might be discord, as each order would want its own wealth and influence, and seek to gain the mastery for its own rules and discipline. 4thly. The Templars were generous of their goods, while the Hospitallers were only anxious to accumulate—a difference which might produce dissension. 5thly. As the Templars received more gifts and support from the laity than the Hospitallers, they would be the losers, or at least be envied by their associates. 6thly. There would probably be some disputing between the superiors about the appointment to the dignities in the new order. He however candidly acknowledged, that the new order would be stronger than the old one, and so more zealous to combat the infidels, and that many commanderies might be suppressed, and some saving effected thereby. Having thus delivered his sentiments, Molay took leave of the pope, and returned to Paris. Vague rumours of serious charges made, or to be made, against the order now beginning to prevail, Molay, accompanied by Rimbaud de Caron, preceptor of Outre-mer, Jeffrey de Goneville, preceptor of Aquitaine, and Hugh de Perando, preceptor of France, repaired once more to Poitiers, about April, 1307, to justify himself and the order in the eyes of the pope. Clement, we are told, informed them of the serious charges of[Pg 286] the commission of various crimes which had been made against them; but they gave him such explanations as appeared to content him, and returned to Paris, satisfied that they had removed all doubts from his mind.
The Master of the Hospital, William de Villaret, was busy fighting in Rhodes when the letter arrived, so he couldn't respond to the call. However, De Molay, the Master of the Temple, had entrusted Limisso and the order's leadership to the marshal, and he set sail with sixty of his top knights, bringing along the order's treasure of 150,000 gold florins and so much silver that it filled twelve horses. When they arrived in France, he went to Paris, where the king welcomed him with great favor and respect, and he placed the treasure in the city’s Temple. Shortly after, he traveled to Poitiers for a meeting with Clement, who sought his advice on Eastern affairs. Regarding a new crusade, Molay believed that only a simultaneous effort from all Christian powers would be effective. He opposed the merging of the orders for several largely trivial reasons. First, he argued that new methods are not always better; the orders had served well in Palestine, and he used the classic anti-reform argument, It works well. Second, since the orders fulfilled both spiritual and temporal roles, leaving one for another could be significant for those who joined for the sake of their souls. Third, there could be conflict because each order would want to protect its own wealth and influence, aiming to dominate with its own rules and practices. Fourth, the Templars were generous with their resources, while the Hospitallers were mainly interested in accumulating wealth, which could lead to discord. Fifth, since Templars received more donations and support from the public than the Hospitallers, they might face losses or jealousy from their peers. Sixth, there would likely be disputes among the leaders regarding positions of power in the new order. However, he honestly acknowledged that the new order would be stronger and more driven to fight against the infidels, potentially leading to the elimination of some commanderies and resulting savings. After sharing his views, Molay took his leave from the pope and returned to Paris. With vague rumors about serious accusations against the order starting to circulate, Molay, along with Rimbaud de Caron, preceptor of Outre-mer, Jeffrey de Goneville, preceptor of Aquitaine, and Hugh de Perando, preceptor of France, headed back to Poitiers around April 1307 to defend himself and the order before the pope. Clement reportedly informed them of serious allegations concerning the commission of various crimes against them; however, they provided explanations that seemed to satisfy him, and they returned to Paris confident that they had cleared any doubts from his mind.
The following was the way in which the charges were made against the Templars.
The following describes how the charges were brought against the Templars.
There was lying in prison, at Paris or Toulouse, for some crime, a man named Squin de Flexian, a native of Beziers, who had been formerly a Templar, and prior of Mantfaucon, but had been put out of the order for heresy and other offences. His companion in captivity was a Florentine, named Noffo Dei—"a man (says Villani) full of all iniquity." These two began to plan how they might best extricate themselves from their present hopeless state; and, as it would appear, aware of the king's dislike to the Templars, and hating them for having punished him for his crimes, Squin de Flexian resolved to accuse them of the most monstrous offences, and thus obtain his liberation. Accordingly, calling for the governor of the prison, he told him that he had a discovery to make to the king, which would be more for his advantage than the acquisition of a new kingdom, but that he would only reveal it to the king in person. Squin was immediately conveyed to Paris, and brought before the king, to whom he declared the crimes of the order; and some of the Templars were seized and examined by order of Philip.
There was a man named Squin de Flexian, originally from Beziers, lying in prison in either Paris or Toulouse for some crime. He used to be a Templar and the prior of Mantfaucon, but he was expelled from the order for heresy and other offenses. His cellmate was a Florentine named Noffo Dei—"a man (says Villani) full of all iniquity." The two of them started brainstorming ways to escape their desperate situation. Knowing the king's dislike for the Templars and resenting them for punishing him for his own crimes, Squin decided to accuse them of the most outrageous offenses to secure his freedom. So, he asked to speak with the prison governor and claimed he had a revelation to share with the king that would be more beneficial to him than gaining a new kingdom, but he would only discuss it directly with the king. Squin was quickly taken to Paris and presented to the king, where he revealed the alleged crimes of the order, leading to the arrest and interrogation of some Templars by Philip on his orders.
Another account says that Squin Flexian and Noffo Dei, who were both degraded Templars, had been actively engaged in an insurrection of the people some time before, from which the king was obliged to take shelter in the Temple. They had been taken, and were lying in prison without any hope of their lives, when they hit on the plan of accusing their former associates. They were both set at liberty; but[Pg 287] Squin was afterwards hanged, and Noffo Dei beheaded, as was said with little probability, by the Templars.
Another account says that Squin Flexian and Noffo Dei, both of whom were disgraced Templars, had been involved in a rebellion of the people some time earlier, which forced the king to seek refuge in the Temple. They were captured and locked up, with no hope of saving their lives, when they came up with the idea of betraying their former partners. They were both released; however, [Pg 287] Squin was later hanged, and Noffo Dei was beheaded, supposedly by the Templars, but this is considered unlikely.
It is also said, that, about the same time, Cardinal Cantilupo, the pope's chamberlain, who had been in connexion with the Templars from his eleventh year, made some discoveries respecting it to his master.
It is also said that around the same time, Cardinal Cantilupo, the pope's chamberlain, who had been involved with the Templars since he was eleven, made some discoveries about them to his master.
The charges made by Squin Flexian against the order were as follows:—
The accusations made by Squin Flexian against the order were as follows:—
1. Each Templar, on his admission, was sworn never to quit the order; and to further its interests, by right or by wrong.
1. Every Templar, upon joining, swore never to leave the order; and to advance its interests, by any means necessary.
2. The heads of the order are in secret alliance with the Saracens; and have more Mahommedan infidelity than Christian faith; in proof of which, they make every novice spit and trample on the cross of Christ, and blaspheme his faith in various ways.
2. The leaders of the order are secretly allied with the Saracens; they show more loyalty to Muhammad than to Christianity. To prove this, they force every new member to spit on and stomp on the cross of Christ, and to blaspheme his faith in different ways.
3. The heads of the order are heretical, cruel, and sacrilegious men. Whenever any novice, on discovering the iniquity of the order, attempts to quit it, they put him to death, and bury him privately by night. They teach the women who are pregnant by them how to procure abortion, and secretly murder the new-born babes.
3. The leaders of the order are heretical, cruel, and disrespectful individuals. Whenever a newcomer realizes the wrongdoing of the order and tries to leave, they kill him and bury him quietly at night. They instruct the women who are pregnant by them on how to get an abortion and secretly kill the newborns.
4. The Templars are infected with all the errors of the Fraticelli; they despise the pope and the authority of the Church; they contemn the sacraments, especially those of penance and confession. They feign compliance with the rites of the Church merely to escape detection.
4. The Templars are full of all the mistakes of the Fraticelli; they look down on the pope and the authority of the Church; they disregard the sacraments, especially penance and confession. They pretend to follow the Church's rituals just to avoid being caught.
5. The superiors are addicted to the most infamous excesses of debauchery; to which, if any one expresses his repugnance, he is punished by perpetual captivity.
5. The leaders are hooked on the most notorious excesses of indulgence; if anyone shows their disgust, they are punished with endless imprisonment.
6. The temple-houses are the receptacles of every crime and abomination that can be committed.
6. The temple-houses are the containers of every crime and wrongdoing that can be committed.
7. The order labours to put the Holy Land into the hands of the Saracens; and favours them more than the Christians.[Pg 288]
7. The order works hard to hand over the Holy Land to the Saracens and supports them more than the Christians.[Pg 288]
8. The installation of the Master takes place in secret, and few of the younger brethren are present at it; whence there is a strong suspicion that he denies the Christian faith or promises, or does something contrary to right.
8. The Master is installed in secret, and only a few of the younger members are there; this leads to a strong suspicion that he denies the Christian faith or makes promises, or does something wrong.
9. Many statutes of the order are unlawful, profane, and contrary to the Christian religion; the members are, therefore, forbidden, under pain of perpetual confinement, to reveal them to any one.
9. Many laws of the order are illegal, disrespectful, and against the Christian faith; therefore, members are prohibited, under the threat of permanent confinement, from disclosing them to anyone.
10. No vice or crime committed for the honour or benefit of the order is held to be a sin.
10. No wrongdoing or crime done for the honor or benefit of the organization is considered a sin.
Such were the charges brought against the order by the degraded prior of Montfaucon—charges in general absurd, or founded on gross exaggeration of some of the rules of the society. Others, still more incredible, were subsequently brought forward in the course of the examinations of witnesses.
Such were the accusations made against the order by the disgraced prior of Montfaucon—charges that were mostly ridiculous or based on serious exaggerations of some of the society's rules. Even more unbelievable claims were later presented during the witness examinations.
Philip and his ministers, having now what they regarded as a plausible case against the Templars, prepared their measures in secret; and on the 12th September, 1307, sealed letters were sent to all the governors and royal officers throughout France, with orders to arm themselves on the 12th of the following month; and in the night to open the letters and act according to the instructions contained therein. The appointed day arrived; and, on the morning of Friday, the 13th October, nearly all the Templars throughout France saw themselves captives in the hands of their enemies. So well had Philip taken his measures, that his meditated victims were without suspicion; and, on the very eve of his arrest, Molay was chosen by the treacherous monarch to be one of the four pall-bearers at the funeral of the Princess Catherine, wife of the Count of Valois.
Philip and his ministers, believing they had a solid case against the Templars, planned their actions in secret. On September 12, 1307, sealed letters were sent to all governors and royal officials across France, instructing them to prepare for action on the 12th of the following month. That night, they were to open the letters and follow the instructions inside. The day came, and on the morning of Friday, October 13, nearly all the Templars in France found themselves captured by their enemies. Philip had executed his plan so discreetly that his intended victims remained unaware. The night before the arrests, Molay was chosen by the deceitful king to be one of the four pall-bearers at the funeral of Princess Catherine, the wife of the Count of Valois.
The directions sent by the king to his officers had been to seize the persons and the goods of the Templars; to interrogate, torture, and obtain confessions[Pg 289] from them; to promise pardon to those who confessed; and to menace those who denied.
The orders given by the king to his officers were to capture the Templars and their property; to question, torture, and get confessions[Pg 289] from them; to offer forgiveness to those who confessed; and to threaten those who denied.
On the day of the arrest of the Master and his knights, the king took possession of the Temple at Paris; and the Master and the preceptors of Aquitaine, France, and beyond sea, were sent prisoners to Corbeil. The following day the doctors of the University of Paris and several canons assembled with the royal ministers in the church of Notre Dame, and William de Nogaret, the chancellor, stated to them that the knights had been proceeded against on account of their heresies. On the 15th the University met in the Temple; and some of the heads of the order, particularly the Master, were examined, and are said to have made some confessions of the guilt of the order for the last forty years.
On the day the Master and his knights were arrested, the king took control of the Temple in Paris, and the Master along with the leaders from Aquitaine, France, and abroad were sent to Corbeil as prisoners. The next day, the scholars from the University of Paris and several canons gathered with the royal officials in the Notre Dame church, where William de Nogaret, the chancellor, explained that the knights were being prosecuted for their heresies. On the 15th, the University convened in the Temple; some of the order’s leaders, especially the Master, were questioned, and it's claimed they admitted to the order's wrongdoing over the past forty years.
The king now published an act of accusation, conceived in no moderate or gentle terms. He calls the accused in it devouring wolves, a perfidious and idolatrous society, whose deeds, whose very words alone, are enough to pollute the earth and infect the air, &c., &c. The inhabitants of Paris were then assembled in the royal gardens; and the king's agents spoke, and some monks preached to them against the accused.
The king has now issued a formal accusation, written in very harsh and aggressive language. He labels the accused as ravenous wolves, a deceitful and idolatrous group, whose actions and even their words are sufficient to taint the earth and contaminate the air, etc., etc. The people of Paris were gathered in the royal gardens, where the king's representatives spoke, and some monks preached against the accused.
Philip, in his hostility to the order, would be content with nothing short of its utter ruin. Almost immediately after his coup d'etat of the 13th October, he despatched a priest, named Bernard Peletus, to his son-in-law, Edward II., king of England, inviting him to follow his example. Edward wrote, on the 30th of the same month, to say that the charges made against the Templars by Philip and his agent appeared to him, his barons, and his prelates, to be incredible; and that he would, therefore, summon the senechal of Agen, whence this rumour had proceeded, to inform him thereupon, before proceeding any farther.[Pg 290]
Philip, in his hostility towards the order, would settle for nothing less than its complete destruction. Almost immediately after his coup on October 13th, he sent a priest named Bernard Peletus to his son-in-law, Edward II, king of England, urging him to follow his lead. Edward replied on the 30th of the same month, stating that the accusations against the Templars made by Philip and his agent seemed unbelievable to him, his barons, and his bishops; therefore, he would summon the seneschal of Agen, where this rumor originated, to get more information before taking any further action.[Pg 290]
Clement had been at first offended at the hasty and arbitrary proceedings of the king of France against the Templars; but Philip easily managed to appease him; and on the 22d November the pope wrote to the king of England, assuring him that the Master of the Temple, had spontaneously confessed that the brethren, on their admission, denied Christ; and that several of the brethren in different parts of France had acknowledged the idolatry and other crimes laid to the charge of the order; and that a knight of the highest and most honourable character, whom he had himself examined, had confessed the denial of Jesus Christ to be a part of the ceremony of admission. He therefore calls on the king to arrest all the Templars within his realms, and to place their lands and goods in safe custody, till their guilt or innocence should be ascertained.
Clement was initially upset by the quick and arbitrary actions of the king of France against the Templars; however, Philip successfully calmed him down. On November 22nd, the pope wrote to the king of England, assuring him that the Master of the Temple had voluntarily admitted that the members, upon joining, denied Christ. He also stated that several members in different parts of France had acknowledged the idolatry and other crimes attributed to the order, and that a knight of the highest and most honorable character, whom he had personally questioned, had confessed that denying Jesus Christ was part of the admission ceremony. He therefore urged the king to arrest all the Templars in his realm and to secure their lands and possessions until their guilt or innocence could be determined.
Edward, in a letter, dated November 26, inquired particularly of the senechal of Agen, in Guienne, respecting the charges against the Templars. On the 4th December he wrote to the kings of Portugal, Castile, Aragon, and Sicily, telling them of what he had heard, and adding that he had given no credit to it; and begging of them not to hearken to these rumours. On the 10th, evidently before he had received the bull, he wrote to the pope, stating his disbelief of what he had heard, and praying of his holiness to institute an inquiry. But when the papal bull, so strongly asserting the guilt of the order, arrived, the good-hearted king did not venture to refuse compliance with it; and he issued a writ on the 15th December, appointing the morn of Wednesday after Epiphany, in the following month, for seizing the Templars and their property, but directing them to be treated with all gentleness. Similar orders were forwarded to Scotland, Wales, and Ireland, on the 20th; and on the 26th he wrote to[Pg 291] assure the pope that his mandates would be speedily obeyed. The arrests took place accordingly; and the Templars and their property were thus seized in the two countries in which they were most powerful[96].
Edward, in a letter dated November 26, asked the seneschal of Agen in Guienne about the accusations against the Templars. On December 4, he wrote to the kings of Portugal, Castile, Aragon, and Sicily, sharing what he had heard but emphasizing that he did not believe it; he urged them not to listen to these rumors. On the 10th, clearly before he received the papal bull, he wrote to the pope, expressing his disbelief in what he had heard and requesting his holiness to start an investigation. However, when the papal bull, strongly declaring the order's guilt, arrived, the kind-hearted king felt he had to comply; he issued a writ on December 15, scheduling the seizure of the Templars and their possessions for the morning of the Wednesday after Epiphany the following month, while instructing that they be treated gently. Similar orders were sent to Scotland, Wales, and Ireland on the 20th; and on the 26th, he wrote to [Pg 291] assure the pope that his orders would be carried out quickly. The arrests were conducted as planned, and the Templars and their property were seized in the two countries where they were strongest.[96].
The reluctance of the king of England and his parliament to proceed to any harsh measures against the Templars affords some presumption in their favour, and would incline us to believe that, had Philip been actuated by a similar love of justice, the order would not have been so cruelly treated in France. But Philip had resolved on the destruction of the society, and his privy councillors and favourites were not men who would seek to check him in his career of blood and spoliation. These men were William Imbert, his confessor, a Dominican monk, one of an order inured in Languedoc to blood, and deeply versed in all inquisitorial arts and practices; William Nogaret, his chancellor, the violator of the sanctity of the head of the church; William Plasian, who had shared in that daring deed, and afterwards sworn, in an assembly of the peers and prelates of France, that Boniface was an atheist and a sorcerer, and had a familiar demon. The whole order of the Dominicans also went heart and hand in the pious work of detecting and punishing the heretics. We must constantly bear in mind that the charges made against the Templars, if they may not all be classed under the term heresy, were all such as the Church was in the habit of making against those whom she persecuted as public heretics. And in this, Philip and his advisers acted wisely in their generation; for treason, or any other political charge, would have sounded dull and inefficient in the ears of the people, in comparison with the formidable word heresy.[Pg 292]
The king of England and his parliament's reluctance to take severe actions against the Templars suggests that they might deserve some defense, leading us to think that if Philip had also cared about justice, the order wouldn’t have faced such harsh treatment in France. However, Philip was determined to destroy the organization, and his close advisors and favorites were not the kind of people who would stop him in his brutal quest for bloodshed and plunder. These included William Imbert, his confessor, a Dominican monk trained in the brutal ways of Languedoc and skilled in all the methods of interrogation; William Nogaret, his chancellor, who violated the sanctity of the church’s leadership; and William Plasian, who had participated in that audacious act and later vowed, in front of the peers and prelates of France, that Boniface was an atheist and a sorcerer with a demon companion. The entire Dominican order also wholeheartedly engaged in the zealous mission of identifying and punishing heretics. We must always remember that the accusations against the Templars, even if they can’t all be labeled as heresy, were the kind of charges the Church typically made against those it persecuted as public heretics. In this way, Philip and his advisors acted wisely for their time; charges of treason or any other political crime would have sounded flat and ineffective to the public compared to the powerful term heresy.[Pg 292]

Philip le Bel.
Chapter X.
Examination of the captive Knights—Different kinds of Torture—Causes of Confession—What Confessions were made—Templars brought before the Pope—Their Declarations—Papal Commission—Molay brought before it—Ponsard de Gisi—Defenders of the Order—Act of Accusation—Heads of Defence—Witnesses against the Order—Fifty-four Templars committed to the flames at Paris—Remarkable words of Aymeric de Villars-le-Duc—Templars burnt in other Places—Further Examinations—The Head worshipped by the Templars—John de Pollincourt—Peter de la Palu.
The charge of conducting the inquiry against the society was committed by Philip, without asking or waiting for the Pope's approbation, to Imbert, who lost no time in proceeding to action. He wrote to all the inquisitors of his order, directing them to proceed against the Templars, as he had already done himself; and, in case of ascertaining the truth of the charges, to communicate it to the Minorite Friars, or some other order, that the people might take no offence at the procedure; and to send the declarations as soon as possible to the king and himself. They were to use no cruelty towards the prisoners; but, if necessary, they might employ the torture. On the 19th October, six days after their seizure, Imbert commenced his examinations at the Temple of Paris. One hundred and forty prisoners were examined; when, by promises and by the aid of the torture, confessions in abundance were procured. Thirty-six of the knights expired under the gentle method[Pg 294] employed to extract the truth from them. The zealous Imbert then proceeded to Bayeux, Metz, Toul, and Verdun; in all which places examinations were held and confessions extorted in the same way. It was, however, carefully stated in each deposition, that the witness had spoken without any constraint.
The responsibility for conducting the investigation against the society was assigned by Philip, without seeking or waiting for the Pope's approval, to Imbert, who immediately took action. He wrote to all the inquisitors in his order, instructing them to pursue charges against the Templars, just as he had already done; and, if the truth of the charges was confirmed, to inform the Minorite Friars or another order, so that the public wouldn’t be offended by the process; and to send the statements as soon as possible to the king and himself. They were instructed to avoid cruelty towards the prisoners; however, if necessary, they could use torture. On October 19th, just six days after their capture, Imbert began his examinations at the Temple of Paris. One hundred and forty prisoners were interrogated; through promises and the use of torture, many confessions were obtained. Thirty-six knights died under the gentle methods[Pg 294] used to extract the truth from them. The diligent Imbert then continued on to Bayeux, Metz, Toul, and Verdun, where examinations were conducted, and confessions were similarly forced. It was, however, carefully noted in each statement that the witness had spoken without any pressure.
As our readers fortunately cannot be supposed familiarly acquainted with the mild and gentle modes employed by the brethren of St. Dominic, for eliciting the truth, we will present a slight sketch of some of them, that they may be able to form some idea of the value of rack-extorted testimony.
As our readers hopefully aren't too familiar with the gentle methods used by the members of St. Dominic to uncover the truth, we will give a brief overview of some of them, so they can get an idea of the worth of testimony obtained under torture.
Sometimes the patient was stripped naked, his hands were tied behind his back, heavy weights were fastened to his feet, and the cord which confined his hands passed over a pulley. At a given signal he was hoisted into the air, where he hung suspended by his arms, which were thus drawn out of their natural position: then suddenly the cord would be let run, but checked before the patient reached the ground, and thus a tremendous shock given to his frame. Another mode of torture was to fasten the feet of the patient on an instrument, which prevented his drawing them back; they were then rubbed with some unctious substance, and set before a flaming fire; a board was occasionally placed between his feet and the fire, and withdrawn again, in order to increase his pain by intervals of cessation. The heel of the patient was at times enclosed in an iron heel, which could be tightened at pleasure, and thus caused excruciating pain. What was regarded as a very gentle mode, and only indulged to those who had not strength to undergo the preceding tortures, was to place round sticks between their fingers, and compress them till the bones of the fingers were cracked. The teeth of the Templars were occasionally drawn, their feet roasted, weights suspended[Pg 295] from all parts of their bodies; and thus they gave their testimony without constraint!
Sometimes the patient was stripped naked, his hands were tied behind his back, heavy weights were attached to his feet, and the cord that restrained his hands went over a pulley. At a specific signal, he was lifted into the air, hanging from his arms, which were pulled out of their natural position. Then suddenly, the cord would be released but stopped before the patient hit the ground, delivering a tremendous shock to his body. Another form of torture involved securing the patient's feet to a device that prevented him from pulling them back; they were then rubbed with a greasy substance and held in front of a blazing fire. A board was sometimes placed between his feet and the fire, then withdrawn to intensify his pain by offering brief moments of relief. The patient's heel was occasionally trapped in a metal device that could be tightened at will, causing excruciating pain. A method considered gentler, and only used for those who lacked the strength to endure the previous tortures, involved placing sticks between their fingers and squeezing until the bones cracked. The teeth of the Templars were sometimes pulled out, their feet roasted, weights hung from various parts of their bodies; and thus they provided their testimony without restraint!
What is understood as testimony or confession, by inquisitors, is an affirmative answer to such questions as they ask. They usually assume the guilt of the accused; and no witnesses for the defence are heard. It is useless to prove the absurdity and unreasonableness of the charges; for that would be impugning the sense and judgment of those who gave ear to them; and promises are always held out that, if full and free confession is made, the criminal will be gently dealt with. The accused is, moreover, always confined in a solitary cell; he has none to console and cheer him; he feels abandoned by the whole world; conscious innocence is of no avail; his only hope is in the mercy of his judge. The Templars, we must recollect, were seized towards the commencement of winter; and at that season a dungeon of the middle ages must have been cheerless beyond description. They were barely allowed the necessaries of life; they were stripped of the habit of the order, and denied the consolations of religion, for they were treated as heretics; and they were shown a real or pretended letter of their Master, in which he confessed the crimes of the order, and exhorted them to do the same. Enthusiasts in religion or politics are supported by the consciousness of rectitude, and bear up against privations or torture in firm reliance on the favour of the Divinity, or the praise and esteem of a grateful and admiring posterity. But the great majority of the Templars were far from being such characters; they were illiterate knights, who had long lived in luxury and indulged in arrogance; they knew themselves to be objects of dislike to many, and felt that their power was gone. Need we then be surprised that, beguiled by the hopes held out, numbers of them readily acknowledged all the charges made[Pg 296] against their order? and must we not so much the more admire the constancy of those who, unseduced by flattering hopes, and undismayed by menaces and torture, yielded up their breath rather than confess a falsehood?
What inquisitors see as testimony or confession is simply an affirmative response to their questions. They generally assume the guilt of the accused, and no defense witnesses are allowed. It’s pointless to prove the ridiculousness and unfairness of the charges because that would mean questioning the judgment and reasoning of those listening. There are always promises that if a complete and honest confession is made, the criminal will be treated leniently. The accused is also kept in a solitary cell, without anyone to comfort or support him, feeling abandoned by the entire world; knowing he is innocent does him no good; his only hope lies in the mercy of his judge. We must remember that the Templars were captured at the start of winter, and a dungeon in the middle ages must have been incredibly bleak at that time. They were barely given the essentials for survival; they were stripped of their order's robes and denied the comforts of religion since they were treated as heretics. They were even shown a real or fake letter from their Master, in which he confessed the order's crimes and encouraged them to do the same. People driven by strong beliefs in religion or politics are often empowered by their sense of righteousness and endure hardships or torture with the firm belief in divine favor or the recognition and appreciation of future generations. However, most of the Templars were far from such individuals; they were uneducated knights who had lived in luxury and had become arrogant. They knew that many people disliked them and sensed that their power was slipping away. So, is it surprising that, misled by the promises offered, many of them readily admitted to all the charges against their order? And shouldn't we admire even more the steadfastness of those who, unaffected by enticing promises and unafraid of threats and torture, chose to die rather than confess to a lie?
At Paris the knights who confessed acknowledged the denial of Christ (this was the point which the inquisitors were most anxious to establish), but in an uncertain, contradictory manner, as what was said on one examination was retracted on another, or was enlarged or diminished. It was also confessed that an idol was adored in their chapters. At Nîmes, in November, 1307, forty-five knights confessed the guilt of the order. They afterwards retracted; but in 1311 the torture made them revert to their original declaration. At Troyes two knights confessed everything that was required of them. At Pont de l'Arche seven confessed. These and six others were again examined at Caen; they terminated their declarations by imploring the mercy of the Church, and entreating with tears to be spared the torture. Those examined at Carcassonne all deposed to the worship of the image; but some of them afterwards retracted that admission, and died maintaining the innocence of the order. Six Templars at Bigorre[97] and seven at Cahors confessed; but several of them afterwards retracted.
At Paris, the knights who confessed admitted to denying Christ (this was what the inquisitors were most eager to confirm), but they did so in an unclear, contradictory way, as what one person said in one session was taken back in another, or was expanded or reduced. They also admitted that an idol was worshipped in their chapters. In Nîmes, in November 1307, forty-five knights confessed to the order's wrongdoing. They later retracted, but in 1311, torture caused them to return to their original statements. In Troyes, two knights confessed to everything they were asked. In Pont de l'Arche, seven confessed. These, along with six others, were re-examined in Caen; they ended their statements by begging for the Church’s mercy and pleading with tears to be spared from torture. Those examined in Carcassonne all testified to the worship of the image; however, some later took back that admission and died insisting on the order's innocence. Six Templars at Bigorre[97] and seven at Cahors confessed; but several of them later retracted.
Philip and his creatures were at this stage of their career, when the pope began to testify some little dissatisfaction at the irregularity of the proceedings. The king instantly wrote to upbraid him[Pg 297] with his lukewarmness in the cause of religion. He stated that the bishops, who were his (the king's) helpers in the government of the Church, were the fittest persons to carry on the business, on account of their local knowledge; and added that neither he nor they could comply with the desires of the pope: "he acted," he said, "as the servant of God, and must render to God his account." Clement could not venture to impede the pious labours of such a zealous servant of the Lord; he cancelled the bull which he had prepared on the subject, only requiring that each bishop's inquisitors should be confirmed by a provincial council, and that the examination of the heads of the order should be reserved for himself. Philip then condescended to offer to put the captives into the hands of the papal judges, and to devote the goods of the order to the profit of the Holy Land. The clergy declined taking charge of the knights, and the king and pope managed the property of the order in common.
Philip and his associates were at a pivotal point in their careers when the pope started showing some dissatisfaction with how things were being handled. The king quickly wrote to scold him[Pg 297] for his lack of commitment to the cause of religion. He argued that the bishops, who assisted him in governing the Church, were the most qualified to handle the matter due to their local knowledge. He also pointed out that neither he nor the bishops could meet the pope's requests: "I act," he said, "as God’s servant, and I must give account to God." Clement couldn't risk obstructing the pious efforts of such a devoted servant of the Lord; he withdrew the bull he had prepared on the matter, only insisting that each bishop’s inquisitors be approved by a provincial council, and that the examination of the heads of the order should be reserved for him. Philip then graciously offered to hand the captives over to the papal judges and to allocate the order's resources to benefit the Holy Land. The clergy refused to take responsibility for the knights, and the king and pope managed the order's assets together.
In the beginning of the year 1308, we are told[98], the Master of the Templars, the preceptor of Cyprus, the visiter of France, and the great-priors of Aquitaine and Normandy, were brought before the pope at Chinon, where they voluntarily, and without the application of any torture, confessed the truth of the enormities laid to the charge of the order. They abjured their errors, and the cardinals implored the king in their favour.
In early 1308, we are told[98], the Master of the Templars, the head of Cyprus, the visitor of France, and the great priors of Aquitaine and Normandy were brought before the pope in Chinon, where they voluntarily confessed to the accusations against the order without any torture being used. They renounced their mistakes, and the cardinals pleaded with the king on their behalf.
M. Raynouard[99], we know not on what authority, positively denies that the Master and his companions were ever brought before the pope. He says that, in the month of August following, they were on their way to Poitiers, in order to be examined by the pontiff[Pg 298] in person; but that, under pretext of some of them being sick, they were detained at Chinon, instead of being brought on to Poitiers, where the pope remained, and were finally conducted back to Paris without having seen him. He does not give the date of this occurrence, but it would seem to have been in the following autumn.
M. Raynouard[99] claims, without specifying his source, that the Master and his companions were never presented to the pope. He states that in the following August, they were heading to Poitiers to meet with the pontiff[Pg 298] in person; however, due to some of them being unwell, they were held back at Chinon instead of being taken to Poitiers, where the pope was located, and eventually returned to Paris without ever seeing him. He does not mention the exact date of this event, but it appears to have occurred the following autumn.
The proceedings against the Templars were so manifestly contrary to the interest of the pope, that Philip deemed it necessary to keep a strict eye over him. Having, in May, 1308, convoked an assembly of the states at Tours, and obtained from them a declaration of his right to punish notorious heretics without asking the consent of the pope, and in which he was called upon to act with rigour against the Templars, he proceeded with it himself to Poitiers, and presented it to Clement. During the negociations which took place at that time, the pope attempted to make his escape to Bordeaux, but his baggage and his treasures were stopped by the king's orders at the gate of the town, and Clement remained in effect a prisoner.
The proceedings against the Templars were clearly against the pope's interests, so Philip felt it was necessary to closely monitor him. In May 1308, he called a meeting of the states in Tours and secured a declaration of his right to punish notorious heretics without needing the pope's approval, which urged him to take strict action against the Templars. He then took this declaration to Poitiers and presented it to Clement. During the negotiations happening at that time, the pope tried to escape to Bordeaux, but the king ordered that his luggage and valuables be stopped at the town gate, leaving Clement effectively a prisoner.
While the supreme pontiff was thus in his power, Philip, who still remained at Poitiers, by way of removing all his scruples, had, on the 29th and 30th June, and 1st July, seventy-two of the Templars, who had confessed, brought before Clement and examined. As was to be expected, the greater part repeated their former declarations of the impiety, idolatry, and licentiousness of the order. From these depositions it appears clearly that the torture had been employed to extract the former confessions.
While the pope was in control, Philip, who was still at Poitiers, aimed to clear any doubts he had by bringing seventy-two Templars who had confessed before Clement for questioning on June 29, 30, and July 1. As expected, most of them reiterated their previous claims about the order's impiety, idolatry, and immoral behavior. These statements clearly indicate that torture had been used to obtain the earlier confessions.
Pierre de Broel said that he had been stripped and put to the torture, but that he had said neither more nor less on that account. He added that those who tortured him were all drunk.
Pierre de Broel said that he had been stripped and tortured, but that he had said neither more nor less because of it. He added that the people who tortured him were all drunk.
Guillaume de Haymes had not been tortured, but[Pg 299] he had been kept a month in solitary confinement on bread and water before he made any confession.
Guillaume de Haymes hadn’t been tortured, but[Pg 299] he had been kept in solitary confinement for a month on bread and water before he confessed anything.
Gerard de St. Martial, who confessed to having denied Christ, and spitten beside the cross, said that he had been cruelly tortured, being at first ashamed to acknowledge these facts, although they were true.
Gerard de St. Martial, who admitted that he had denied Christ and spat beside the cross, said that he had been brutally tortured, initially feeling ashamed to admit these truths, even though they were real.
Deodat Jafet had been tortured, but it was the inspiration of God and the blessed Virgin Mary, and not the rack, which had made him confess. He acknowledged every crime imputed to the order. Speaking of the idol, he said, "I was alone in a chamber with the person who received me: he drew out of a box a head, or idol, which appeared to me to have three faces, and said, Thou shouldst adore it as thy Saviour and that of the order of the Temple. We then bent our two knees, and I cried, Blessed be he who will save my soul, and I worshipped it." Yet Jafet afterwards retracted this deposition, and stood forth as one of the defenders of the order.
Deodat Jafet had been tortured, but it was the inspiration of God and the blessed Virgin Mary, not the rack, that made him confess. He admitted to every crime charged against the order. Talking about the idol, he said, "I was alone in a room with the person who received me: he took a head, or idol, out of a box that looked like it had three faces, and said, You should worship it as your Savior and that of the order of the Temple. We then both knelt, and I cried, Blessed be he who will save my soul, and I worshipped it." Yet Jafet later took back this statement and stood up as one of the defenders of the order.
Iter de Rochefort, though he said he had confessed, had been tortured repeatedly, with a view to extracting more from him. He declared that, having been received in the unlawful way, he had confessed himself to the patriarch of Jerusalem, who had wept bitterly at hearing of such wickedness. As Raynouard very justly observes, the patriarch, who could hardly be a friend to the Templars, was not very likely to content himself with shedding a few useless tears had the knowledge of such a heresy come to his ears.
Iter de Rochefort, even though he claimed he had confessed, had been tortured multiple times to try to extract more information from him. He stated that, after being received in an illegal manner, he had confessed to the patriarch of Jerusalem, who cried tearfully upon hearing about such evil. As Raynouard rightly points out, the patriarch, who was unlikely to be supportive of the Templars, would not have been satisfied with just shedding a few pointless tears if he had truly learned about such a heresy.
Pierre de Conders had confessed at the sight of the rack.
Pierre de Conders had confessed at the sight of the torture device.
Raymond de Stéphani had been severely tortured at Carcassonne. Being asked why he did not then tell the truth, he replied, "Because I did not recollect it; but I prayed the senechal to allow me to[Pg 300] confer with my companions, and when I had deliberated with them I recollected."
Raymond de Stéphani had been brutally tortured in Carcassonne. When asked why he didn't just tell the truth, he replied, "Because I didn't remember it; but I asked the senechal to let me [Pg 300] talk with my companions, and after discussing it with them, I remembered."
Who can give credit to depositions like these, most of which were subsequently revoked? Yet it was by these that the pope declared himself to be perfectly satisfied of the guilt of the order, and justified the rigorous measures which he authorized against it. Philip, we are to observe, was all this time at Poitiers: the prisoners were examined before the cardinals, and only those who had not retracted their former rack-extorted confessions were produced in the large concourse of nobles, clergy, and people assembled on this occasion[100].
Who can trust statements like these, most of which were later taken back? Yet it was based on these that the pope claimed to be completely convinced of the order's guilt and justified the harsh actions he permitted against it. We should note that Philip was at Poitiers the whole time: the prisoners were questioned in front of the cardinals, and only those who hadn't retracted their earlier confessions, obtained under torture, were presented in front of the large gathering of nobles, clergy, and people assembled for this event[100].
Clement and Philip now arranged the convocation of an œcumenic council at Vienne, to pronounce the abolition of the order. The pope also appointed a commission to take at Paris a juridical information against it; and, on the 1st August, he authorised the bishops and his delegates to proceed in their inquiries. On the 12th August by the bull Faciens misericordiam, after asserting the guilt of the order, he called upon all princes and prelates throughout the Christian world to assist him in making inquiry into this affair.
Clement and Philip now organized a meeting of an ecumenical council in Vienne to announce the abolition of the order. The pope also set up a commission in Paris to gather legal information against it; and on August 1st, he authorized the bishops and his delegates to continue their investigations. On August 12th, through the bull Faciens misericordiam, after declaring the order guilty, he called on all princes and church leaders across the Christian world to help him investigate this matter.
The commission appointed by the pope was composed of the archbishop of Narbonne, the bishops of Bayeux, Mende, and Limoges; Matthew of Naples, archdeacon of Rouen, notary of the Holy See; John of Mantua, archdeacon of Trent; John of Montlaur, archdeacon of Maguelone; and William Agelin, provost of Aix, which last was prevented by business from giving attendance. They entered on their functions on the 7th August, 1309, and ordered that the brethren of the Temple should be cited before them on the first day of business after the festival of[Pg 301] St. Martin, in November. The citations were to be published in presence of the people and clergy in the cathedrals, churches, and schools, in the principal houses of the order, and in the prisons in which the knights were confined. No one appearing, new citations were issued; and at length the Bishop of Paris was called on by the commission to go himself to the prison where the Master and the heads of the order were confined, and notify it to them. Having done so, he caused the same notification to be made throughout his diocese. The following circumstance, which occurred at this time, would seem to indicate that impediments were thrown in the way of those who were disposed to defend the order by the royal ministers. The commissioners were informed that the governor of the Chatelet had arrested and imprisoned some persons who were presumed to have come to defend the order. The governor being summoned before them, declared that, by order of the ministers, he had arrested seven persons who were denounced as being Templars in a lay habit, who had come to Paris with money in order to procure advocates and defenders for the accused. He acknowledged that he had put them to the torture, but said that he did not believe them to be Templars.
The commission appointed by the pope included the archbishop of Narbonne, the bishops of Bayeux, Mende, and Limoges; Matthew of Naples, archdeacon of Rouen and notary of the Holy See; John of Mantua, archdeacon of Trent; John of Montlaur, archdeacon of Maguelone; and William Agelin, provost of Aix, who was unable to attend due to business. They started their work on August 7, 1309, and ordered that the members of the Temple should be summoned before them on the first day of business after the feast of [Pg 301] St. Martin in November. The summons were to be announced in front of the people and clergy in the cathedrals, churches, and schools, at the main houses of the order, and in the jails where the knights were held. When no one showed up, new summons were issued; eventually, the Bishop of Paris was asked by the commission to personally go to the prison where the Master and the leaders of the order were held and inform them. After doing this, he made sure the same notice was given throughout his diocese. The following situation that arose during this time suggests that obstacles were placed in the way of those willing to defend the order by the royal ministers. The commissioners learned that the governor of the Chatelet had arrested and imprisoned some individuals who were likely there to defend the order. When the governor was summoned, he stated that, by order of the ministers, he had arrested seven people who were identified as Templars disguised as laymen, who had come to Paris with money to hire advocates and defenders for the accused. He admitted that he had tortured them but claimed he did not believe they were Templars.
On Wednesday, Nov. 26, the commission sat, and Molay, the Master of the Temple, was brought before it. He was asked if he would defend the order, or speak for himself. He replied by expressing his surprise that the Church should proceed with such precipitation in this case, when the sentence relative to the Emperor Frederic had been suspended for thirty-two years. Though he had neither knowledge nor talent sufficient to defend the order, he should consider himself vile in his own eyes, and in those of others, if he hesitated to do so; but being the[Pg 302] prisoner of the king and the pope, and without money, he asked for aid and counsel.
On Wednesday, Nov. 26, the commission met, and Molay, the Master of the Temple, was brought before them. He was asked if he would defend the order or speak for himself. He expressed his surprise that the Church would act so quickly in this case when the sentence relating to Emperor Frederic had been on hold for thirty-two years. Although he didn’t have the knowledge or skills to defend the order, he would feel terrible about himself and in the eyes of others if he didn’t at least try; but as the prisoner of the king and the pope, and without any money, he requested help and guidance.
The commissioners desired him to reflect on his offer, and to consider the confessions respecting himself and the order which he had made. They agreed, however, to give him time; and, that he might not be ignorant of what was alleged against him, had the documents containing their powers read to him in the vulgar language.
The commissioners wanted him to think about his offer and consider the confessions regarding himself and the order he had made. However, they agreed to give him time, and to ensure he understood what was being said about him, they had the documents that outlined their powers read to him in plain language.
During the reading of the letters which recited his confession made to the cardinals at Chinon, he crossed himself repeatedly, and gave other signs of indignation and surprise, and said, that, were it not for the respect due to the envoys of the pope, he should express himself differently. They said they were not come there to receive challenges. He replied that he spoke not of cartels, he only wished they acted in this case as the Saracens and Tartars did, who cut off the head and cut the body in two of those who were found to be guilty.
During the reading of the letters that detailed his confession to the cardinals at Chinon, he made the sign of the cross repeatedly and showed signs of anger and shock. He said that if it weren’t for the respect owed to the pope's envoys, he would express himself differently. They responded that they were not there to receive challenges. He replied that he was not talking about challenges; he simply wished they would act like the Saracens and Tartars did, who executed those found guilty by cutting off their heads and slicing their bodies in half.
Two circumstances are worthy of note in this examination; one, that William Plasian was present at it, and, as the commissioners expressly declared, without being invited by them; the other, that the confessions, which were imputed to Molay, and which he evidently intimated to be false, were inserted in the bull Faciens misericordiam, which bears the date of the 12th August, although the festival of the Assumption, that is the 16th of August, is given as the day on which they were made[101]. It was there declared that the heads of the order had confessed and been absolved; yet here we find the[Pg 303] Master treated as a heretic who was still unreconciled.
Two important things stand out in this examination: first, that William Plasian was present, and as the commissioners specifically stated, he was there without their invitation; second, that the confessions attributed to Molay, which he clearly suggested were false, were included in the bull Faciens misericordiam, dated August 12th, even though the festival of the Assumption, on August 16th, is cited as the day they were supposedly made[101]. It was stated that the heads of the order had confessed and been absolved; however, here we find the[Pg 303] Master being treated as a heretic who had not yet reconciled.
The following day (Nov. 27), Ponsard de Gisi, prior of Payens, appeared before the commission. On being asked if he would defend the order, he replied, "Yes; the imputations cast on us of denying Christ, of spitting on the cross, of authorising infamous crimes, and all such accusations, are false. If I, myself, or other knights, have made confessions before the bishop of Paris, or elsewhere, we have betrayed the truth—we have yielded to fear, to danger, to violence. We were tortured by Flexien de Beziers, prior of Montfaucon, and the monk William Robert, our enemies. Several of the prisoners had agreed among themselves to make these confessions, in order to escape death, and because thirty-six knights had died at Paris, and a great number in other places, under the torture. As for me, I am ready to defend the order in my own name, and in the names of those who will make common cause with me, if I am assigned out of the goods of the order as much as will defray the needful expense. I require to be granted the counsel of Raynaud of Orleans and of Peter of Bologna, priests of the order." He was asked if he had been tortured. He replied that he had, three months before he made his confession.
The next day (Nov. 27), Ponsard de Gisi, the prior of Payens, appeared before the commission. When asked if he would defend the order, he replied, "Yes; the accusations against us of denying Christ, spitting on the cross, permitting heinous crimes, and similar claims, are false. If I, or other knights, have confessed before the bishop of Paris, or elsewhere, we have betrayed the truth—we succumed to fear, to danger, to violence. We were tortured by Flexien de Beziers, the prior of Montfaucon, and the monk William Robert, our enemies. Several prisoners had agreed to make these confessions among themselves to escape death, especially since thirty-six knights had died in Paris, and many more in other places, under torture. As for me, I am ready to defend the order in my own name and on behalf of those who will stand with me, provided that I am allotted enough from the order's assets to cover necessary expenses. I ask to have the support of Raynaud of Orleans and Peter of Bologna, priests of the order." When asked if he had been tortured, he replied that he had, three months before he made his confession.
Next day the Master was brought up again. He demanded to be brought before the pope, appealed to the valour and charity of the Templars, and their zeal in adorning churches, in proof of their piety, and made an orthodox confession of his own faith. Nogaret, who was present, then observed, that it was related in the chronicles of St. Denis that the Master of the order had done homage to Saladin; and that the sultan had ascribed their ill fortune to their secret vices and impiety. Molay declared that he[Pg 304] had never heard of such calumnies; and gave an instance of the prudence and good faith of a former Master, when himself and some other young men wanted him to break a truce. Molay concluded by praying the chancellor and the commissioners to procure him the favour of hearing mass, and being attended by his chaplains.
Next day, the Master was brought up again. He asked to be brought before the pope, appealed to the courage and charity of the Templars, and their dedication to decorating churches as proof of their faith, and made a proper confession of his own beliefs. Nogaret, who was present, then pointed out that it was written in the chronicles of St. Denis that the Master of the order had paid homage to Saladin; and that the sultan had blamed their misfortune on their hidden vices and impiety. Molay declared that he had never heard such slander; and gave an example of the wisdom and integrity of a former Master, when he and some other young men wanted him to break a truce. Molay concluded by asking the chancellor and the commissioners to get him the favor of hearing mass, and being accompanied by his chaplains.
Orders having been given that all the Templars who were desirous to undertake the defence of the order should be conveyed to Paris, they were brought thither strongly guarded. The commission then renewed its sittings. As the prisoners were successively brought before it, they, with few exceptions, declared their readiness to defend their order—till death, cried some; till the end, cried others; because I wish to save my soul, added one. Bertrand de St. Paul declared that he never did, and never would, confess the guilt of the order, because it was not true; and that he believed that God would work a miracle if the body of Christ was administered to those who confessed and those who denied. Seven of those who had been examined before the pope, and had confessed, now declared that they had lied, and revoked what they then said. John de Valgellé maintained that he had made no confession on that occasion. "I was tortured so much, and held so long before a burning fire," said Bernard de Vado, "that the flesh of my heels was burnt, and these two bones (which he showed) came off."
Orders were given for all the Templars who wanted to defend the order to be taken to Paris, and they were brought there under heavy guard. The commission then resumed its meetings. As the prisoners were brought before it one by one, most declared their willingness to defend their order—“until death,” some said; “until the end,” others shouted; “because I want to save my soul,” one added. Bertrand de St. Paul stated that he never did and never would confess the order's guilt, because it wasn’t true; he believed that God would perform a miracle if the body of Christ was given to those who confessed and to those who denied. Seven of those who had been questioned before the pope and had confessed now said they had lied and retracted what they previously stated. John de Valgellé insisted he had made no confession at that time. "I was tortured so much, and held near a burning fire for so long," said Bernard de Vado, "that the flesh on my heels was burned, and these two bones" (which he showed) "came off."
In the course of these examinations, a Templar, named Laurent de Beaune, showed a letter with the seals of Philip de Voet and John Jainville, the persons set by the pope and king over the prisoners, addressed to the Templars confined at Sens, inviting them to confess what was required, and declaring that the pope had given orders that those who did not persevere in their confessions should be committed to[Pg 305] the flames. Philip de Voet, on being interrogated, said that he did not believe that he had sent that letter; his seal had often lain in the hands of his secretary; he had always advised the prisoners to speak the truth. Jainville was not examined, neither was John Carpini, the bearer of the letter. De Beaune was one of the first afterwards committed to the flames; the supposition is natural, that the letter was a stratagem of the king and his ministers.
During these examinations, a Templar named Laurent de Beaune presented a letter sealed by Philip de Voet and John Jainville, who were appointed by the pope and king to oversee the prisoners. The letter was directed to the Templars held in Sens, urging them to confess what was needed and stating that the pope had ordered that those who did not continue with their confessions would be sent to [Pg 305] the flames. When questioned, Philip de Voet claimed he didn’t think he had sent that letter; his seal often rested with his secretary, and he had always told the prisoners to tell the truth. Jainville was not questioned, nor was John Carpini, the messenger of the letter. De Beaune was one of the first later condemned to the flames, leading to a reasonable assumption that the letter was a tactic used by the king and his ministers.
The Master having been again brought before the commissioners, and having renewed his demand of being sent to the pope, they promised to write to the pope on the subject, but there is no proof of their having done so.
The Master was brought before the commissioners again, and he repeated his request to be sent to the pope. They promised to write to the pope about it, but there's no evidence that they actually did.
On the 28th March all the Templars who had expressed their willingness to defend the order were assembled in the garden of the bishop's palace. Their number was 546. The Master was not among them. The articles of accusation were then read over to them in Latin; the commissioners ordered that they should be read again to them in the vulgar tongue, but the knights all cried out that it was enough, they did not desire that such abominations, which were false and not to be named, should be repeated in the vulgar language. Again, they complained of the deprivation of their religious habits and the sacraments of the church, and desired that the Master and the heads of the order should be called thither also. But this reasonable request was not complied with. In vain the Master demanded to be brought before the pope; in vain the knights required to be permitted to enjoy the presence of their chief. Neither the one nor the other suited the interest or the designs of the king.
On March 28th, all the Templars who were willing to defend the order gathered in the garden of the bishop's palace. There were 546 of them. The Master was not present. The accusations against them were read in Latin; the commissioners ordered that they be read again in the common language, but the knights shouted that it was enough and did not want such horrible lies, which were false and should not be spoken, to be repeated in the common tongue. They again complained about being stripped of their religious habits and the sacraments of the church, and asked for the Master and the leaders of the order to be summoned as well. However, this reasonable request was ignored. The Master’s pleas to be brought before the pope were in vain; likewise, the knights' demands to be allowed to see their chief went unanswered. Neither request served the interests or plans of the king.
The number of the Templars in Paris soon amounted to near 900. The commissioners were desirous that[Pg 306] they should appoint agents to manage their defence; but this they declined to do, some alleging that they could not do so without the consent of their chief, others insisting on defending the order in person. At length, after a great deal of argument and deliberation, seventy-five Templars were chosen to draw up the defence of the order; and the priests of the order, Raynaud de Pruino and Peter of Bologna, and the knights, William de Chambonnet and Bertrand de Sartiges, were appointed to be present at the deposition of the witnesses.
The number of Templars in Paris soon reached nearly 900. The commissioners wanted[Pg 306] them to appoint agents to handle their defense; however, they refused, with some saying they couldn't do it without their chief’s approval, while others insisted on defending the order themselves. Eventually, after a lot of discussion and debate, seventy-five Templars were selected to organize the defense of the order, and the priests Raynaud de Pruino and Peter of Bologna, along with the knights William de Chambonnet and Bertrand de Sartiges, were appointed to be present for the witness statements.
The act of accusation against the Templars, drawn up in the name of the pope, ran thus. At the time of their reception they were made to deny God, Christ, the Virgin, &c.; in particular to declare that Christ was not the true God, but a false prophet, who had been crucified for his own crimes, and not for the redemption of the world. They spat and trampled on the cross, especially on Good Friday. They worshipped a cat which sometimes appeared in their chapters. Their priests, when celebrating mass, did not pronounce the words of consecration. They believed that their Master could absolve them from their sins. They were told at their reception that they might abandon themselves to all kinds of licentiousness. They had idols in all their provinces, some with three faces, some with one. They worshipped these idols in their chapters, believed that they could save them, regarded them as the givers of wealth to the order, and of fertility to the earth; they touched them with cords which they afterwards tied round their own bodies. Those who at the time of their reception would not comply with these practices were put to death or imprisoned. All this, it was stated, took place according to the statutes of the order; it was a general and ancient custom, and[Pg 307] there was no other mode of reception. The act of accusation stated farther that the Templars stopped at no means of enriching the order[102].
The accusation against the Templars, made in the name of the pope, went like this. When they were admitted, they had to deny God, Christ, the Virgin, etc.; specifically, they had to say that Christ was not the true God but a false prophet who was crucified for his own sins, not for the salvation of the world. They spat on and trampled the cross, especially on Good Friday. They worshipped a cat that sometimes showed up at their meetings. Their priests, when performing mass, didn't say the words of consecration. They believed that their Master could forgive them for their sins. Upon entering, they were told they could indulge in all sorts of immoral behavior. They had idols in all their regions, some with three faces and some with one. They worshipped these idols during their gatherings, believing that they could save them and that these idols brought wealth to the order and fertility to the land; they touched them with cords that they then tied around their own bodies. Those who refused to go along with these practices when they were received were either executed or imprisoned. It was claimed that all this happened according to the statutes of the order; it was a common and longstanding practice, and[Pg 307] there was no other way to be admitted. The accusations also claimed that the Templars spared no effort to enrich the order[102].
The Templars, in their reply, asserted that all these imputations were false, and that if any of them had confessed them, they had done so under terror and violence, thirty-six having expired by torture at Paris and several others elsewhere. The forms of law had been violated with respect to them; to obtain from them false depositions letters of the king had been shown them declaring that the order had been condemned irrevocably, and offering life, liberty, and pensions, to those who would depose falsely. "All these facts, said they, are so public and so notorious that there are no means or pretexts for disavowing them." The heads of accusation were nothing but falsehoods and absurdities, and the bull contained nothing but horrible, detestable, and iniquitous falsehoods. Their order was pure, and if their statutes were consulted they would be found to be the same for all Templars and for all countries. Their belief was that of the Church; parents brought their children, brothers each other, uncles their nephews, into the order, because it was pure and holy. When in captivity to the infidels, the Templars died sooner than renounce their religion. They declared their readiness to defend their innocence in every way, and against every person except the pope and the king, demanded to be brought personally before the general council, required that those who had quitted the order and deposed against it should be[Pg 308] kept in close custody till their truth or falsehood should be ascertained, and that no layman should be present to intimidate the accused when under examination. The knights, they maintained, had been struck with such terror, that the false confessions made by some were less matter of surprise than the courage of those who maintained the truth was of admiration. Inquire, said they, of those who were present at the last moments of the knights who died in prison; let their confessions be revealed, and it will be seen if the accusations are true. Is it not strange, asked they in conclusion, that more credit should be given to the lies of those who yielded to tortures or to promises than to the asseverations of those who, in defence of the truth, have died with the palm of martyrdom—of the sound majority of those knights who have suffered and still suffer so much for conscience' sake?
The Templars, in their response, claimed that all these accusations were false, and that if any of them confessed, they did so out of fear and violence, as thirty-six had died from torture in Paris and several others elsewhere. Legal procedures had been ignored regarding them; to force false testimonies, letters from the king had been shown to them stating that the order had been permanently condemned and offering life, freedom, and pensions to those who would falsely testify. "All these facts," they said, "are so public and well-known that there are no ways or excuses to deny them." The charges against them were nothing but lies and absurdities, and the papal bull contained nothing but horrifying, detestable, and immoral falsehoods. Their order was pure, and if their statutes were reviewed, they would be found to be the same for all Templars across all countries. Their faith reflected that of the Church; parents brought their children, brothers brought each other, and uncles brought their nephews into the order, believing it to be pure and holy. When captured by infidels, the Templars would rather die than renounce their faith. They expressed their willingness to defend their innocence in every possible way and against everyone except the pope and the king. They demanded to be brought personally before the general council, insisted that those who had left the order and testified against it should be kept in close custody until the truth of their claims could be verified, and that no layman should be present to intimidate the accused during questioning. The knights argued that they had been struck with such fear that the false confessions made by some were less surprising than the bravery of those who stood by the truth. They urged, "Ask those who were present at the last moments of the knights who died in prison; let their confessions be disclosed, and we shall see if the accusations hold true." They concluded, "Isn’t it strange that more belief should be given to the lies of those who succumbed to torture or temptation rather than to the declarations of those who, in defense of the truth, have died as martyrs—of the vast majority of those knights who have suffered and continue to suffer so much for their conscience?"
On the 11th April, 1310, the hearing of the witnesses against the order commenced. Only twenty-one were produced, two of whom did not belong to the order, the others being principally those who had persisted in their declarations before the pope. As might be expected, all the crimes laid to the charge of the order in the papal bull were again deposed to by these men; but the commission had only got as far as the examination of the thirteenth witness when the impatience of the king manifested itself in a barbarous and illegal act, which had apparently long been meditated.
On April 11, 1310, the hearing of the witnesses against the order began. Only twenty-one were called, two of whom were not part of the order, while the others mainly stuck to their statements made before the pope. As expected, all the accusations against the order in the papal bull were reiterated by these men; however, the commission had only reached the thirteenth witness when the king's impatience showed itself in a brutal and unlawful act that seemed to have been planned for a long time.
The Archbishop of Sens, whose suffragan the Bishop of Paris was, had died about Easter, 1309, and the pope had reserved the nomination to himself. Philip wrote to him requiring of him to nominate Philip de Marigny, Bishop of Cambray, brother to Enquerrand, his prime minister, alleging that his youth was no just impediment, and that his acts[Pg 309] would prove how much he was beyond his age. The pope, though very reluctant, was obliged to consent, and in April, 1310, Marigny was installed. No time was now lost in proceeding to operation. On Sunday, May 10, the four defenders of the order learned that the provincial council of Sens was convoked at Paris in order to proceed against the knights individually. They took alarm, and applied to the commission, which, though it did not sit on Sundays, assembled, and Peter of Bologna informed them of what he had heard. He begged that they would suffer him to read an appeal which he had drawn up. This they declined doing, but said that, if he had any defence of the order to give in, they would receive it. He forthwith laid down a written paper, stating the danger which the prisoners were in dread of, appealing to the holy see, and entreating the commission to stop the proceedings of the archbishop and his suffragans. The defenders of the order then retired, and the further consideration of the affair was put off till after vespers, when they re-appeared and gave in an address to the Archbishop of Sens, containing an appeal to the pope. The commissioners, however, declined interfering for the present.
The Archbishop of Sens, whose subordinate was the Bishop of Paris, had died around Easter 1309, and the pope had kept the right to appoint his replacement. Philip wrote to the pope asking him to appoint Philip de Marigny, the Bishop of Cambray and brother of Enquerrand, his prime minister, arguing that his youth shouldn’t be an obstacle and that his actions[Pg 309] would show he was more mature than his age suggested. Although the pope was hesitant, he had to agree, and in April 1310, Marigny was installed. They wasted no time moving forward. On Sunday, May 10, the four defenders of the order learned that the provincial council of Sens was meeting in Paris to take action against the knights individually. They got worried and reached out to the commission, which, although it didn’t usually meet on Sundays, gathered together, and Peter of Bologna informed them about what he had heard. He asked to read an appeal he had prepared. They refused, but said they would accept any defense of the order he wanted to present. He immediately handed over a written document outlining the danger the prisoners faced, appealing to the holy see, and requesting the commission to halt the actions of the archbishop and his subordinates. The defenders of the order then left, and further discussion of the matter was postponed until after vespers, when they returned and submitted a petition to the Archbishop of Sens, including an appeal to the pope. However, the commissioners decided not to intervene for the time being.
It is to be noticed that the defenders of the order prayed on this occasion of the commission to nominate one or more of its notaries to draw up their act of defence, because they could find no notary who would act for them, owing probably to fear of the royal displeasure, or to the want of funds by the accused.
It’s important to note that the defenders of the order asked the commission to appoint one or more of its notaries to draft their defense, as they couldn’t find a notary willing to work for them, likely due to fear of royal disapproval or the accused's lack of funds.
On Monday and Tuesday two more of the witnesses were heard. One of them named Humbert de Puy declared that, having refused to acknowledge the crimes laid to the charge of the order, he had been tortured three times and kept for thirty-six weeks on bread and water in the bottom of an infected tower, by order of John de Jainville.[Pg 310]
On Monday and Tuesday, two more witnesses were heard. One of them, named Humbert de Puy, stated that after refusing to admit to the crimes accused of the order, he had been tortured three times and held for thirty-six weeks on just bread and water in the bottom of a contaminated tower, by the order of John de Jainville.[Pg 310]
While thus engaged, the commissioners learned to their dismay that the council was about to commit to the flames fifty-four of the knights who had stepped forth as the defenders of the order. They instantly sent one of their notaries and one of the keepers of the prison of the Templars to entreat the archbishop to act with caution, as there were strong reasons for doubting the truth of the charges; and representing that the witnesses were so terrified at what they had heard of the intentions of the council, that they were incapable of giving their evidence; that moreover the Templars had delivered in an appeal to the pope.
While they were engaged in their work, the commissioners were dismayed to discover that the council was about to burn fifty-four knights who had stepped up to defend the order. They immediately sent one of their notaries and one of the Templar prison guards to urge the archbishop to proceed with caution, as there were strong reasons to doubt the validity of the charges. They pointed out that the witnesses were so terrified by what they had heard about the council's intentions that they were unable to provide their testimonies; moreover, the Templars had submitted an appeal to the pope.
The archbishop, who was paying the price of his elevation to a hard creditor, was not to be stopped by these considerations. He was making short work of the business. On the Monday he had a number of those who had undertaken the defence of the order brought before the council, and he interrogated them once more himself. Those of them who, having confessed, had afterwards retracted, and now persisted in their retractation, were declared to be relapsed heretics, and were delivered over to the secular arm and condemned to the flames; those who, had not confessed, and would not, were sentenced to imprisonment as unreconciled Templars; those who persisted in their confession of the enormities laid to the charge of the order were set at liberty, and called reconciled Templars.
The archbishop, who was paying the price for his rise to power, wasn’t swayed by these concerns. He was swiftly handling the situation. On Monday, he brought in several people who had taken on the defense of the order to appear before the council, and he questioned them personally again. Those who had confessed but then changed their minds, and continued to stick to that, were labeled as relapsed heretics, handed over to secular authorities, and sentenced to be burned; those who had not confessed, and refused to, were given prison sentences as unreconciled Templars; those who maintained their confession of the accusations against the order were released and referred to as reconciled Templars.
The next morning the fifty-four Templars who had been declared relapsed were taken from their prison, placed in carts, and conducted to the place of execution, where they beheld the piles prepared, and the executioners standing with flaming torches in their hands. An envoy from the court was present, who proclaimed liberty and the royal favour for those who would even then retract their declarations[Pg 311] and confess the guilt of the order. The friends and relatives of the unhappy victims crowded round them, with tears and prayers, imploring of them to make the required acknowledgment and save their lives. In vain. These gallant knights, who, yielding to the anguish of torture, and worn down by solitude and privations, had confessed to the truth of the most absurd charges, now that they beheld the certain limit of their sufferings, disdained to purchase by falsehood a prolongation of life to be spent in infamy and contempt. With one voice they re-asserted their own innocence and that of their order. They called on God, the Virgin, and all the saints to aid and support them, raised the hymn of death, and expired amidst the tears and commiseration of the by-standers.
The next morning, the fifty-four Templars who had been declared relapsed were taken from their prison, put into carts, and taken to the execution site, where they saw the piles prepared and the executioners standing with flaming torches in their hands. An envoy from the court was there, proclaiming freedom and royal favor for those who would still take back their statements and confess the guilt of the order. The friends and relatives of the unfortunate victims surrounded them, tears and prayers flowing, begging them to make the necessary acknowledgment and save their lives. It was all for nothing. These brave knights, who had succumbed to the pain of torture and were worn down by loneliness and hardships, had confessed to the most ridiculous accusations. But now, seeing the end of their sufferings, they refused to buy a longer life at the cost of living in disgrace and contempt. In unison, they reasserted their innocence and that of their order. They called on God, the Virgin, and all the saints for aid and support, sang their death hymn, and passed away amidst the tears and sympathy of the onlookers.
Felons convicted on the clearest evidence will, as is well known, die asserting their innocence; but this is when they have no hope of escape remaining. Here life and liberty were offered, and the victims were implored by those whom they most loved to accept of them. May we not then assert that the men who resisted all solicitations were sincere and spoke the truth, and were supported by their confidence of being received as martyrs by that God whom they devoutly adored according to the doctrines of their church?
Felons convicted on the clearest evidence will, as we know, die claiming their innocence; but this happens when they have no remaining hope of escape. Here, life and freedom were offered, and the victims were urged by their loved ones to accept them. Can we not say that the men who resisted all pleas were sincere and spoke the truth, supported by their belief that they would be welcomed as martyrs by the God they faithfully worshipped according to their church's teachings?
On Wednesday, Aymeric de Villars-le-Duc, aged about fifty years, was brought before the commissioners. He was quite pallid, and seemed terrified beyond measure. On the articles to which he was to depose being explained to him, he asseverated in the strongest manner his resolution to speak the truth; then striking his breast with his clenched hands, he bent his knees, and stretching his hands towards the altar, spake these memorable words:—
On Wednesday, Aymeric de Villars-le-Duc, who was around fifty years old, was brought before the commissioners. He looked very pale and seemed utterly terrified. After the articles he needed to testify about were explained to him, he firmly asserted his commitment to tell the truth; then, striking his chest with his fists, he knelt down and raised his hands towards the altar, saying these unforgettable words:—
"I persist in maintaining that the errors imputed to the Templars are absolutely false, though I have[Pg 312] confessed some of them myself, overcome by the tortures which G. de Marcillac and Hugh de Celle, the king's knights, ordered to be inflicted on me. I have seen the fifty-four knights led in carts to be committed to the flames because they would not make the confessions which were required of them. I have heard that they were burnt; and I doubt if I could, like them, have had the noble constancy to brave the terrors of the pile. I believe that, if I were threatened with it, I should depose on oath before the commission, and before any other persons who should interrogate me, that these same errors imputed to the order are true. I would kill God himself if it was required of me."
"I still believe that the accusations against the Templars are completely false, even though I have[Pg 312] admitted to some of them myself, overwhelmed by the torture inflicted on me by G. de Marcillac and Hugh de Celle, the king's knights. I witnessed the fifty-four knights taken in carts to be burned because they refused to make the required confessions. I've heard that they were executed by fire, and I doubt I could have had the same brave strength they showed in facing the flames. I think that if I were faced with the same threat, I would swear under oath before the commission and anyone else who questioned me that those same accusations against the order are true. I would kill God himself if it was required of me."
He then earnestly implored the commissioners and the notaries who were present not to reveal to the king's officers, and to the keepers of the Templars, the words which had escaped him, lest they should deliver him also to the flames.
He then urgently begged the commissioners and the notaries present not to disclose to the king's officers or the Templar guards the words that had slipped out, fearing they might also hand him over to the flames.
Ought not these simple honest words, the very accents of truth, to prevail with us against all the confessions procured by torture, or by promises or threats, and satisfy us as to their value?
Oughtn't these straightforward, honest words, the very sound of truth, to convince us over all the confessions gained through torture, promises, or threats, and reassure us about their worth?
The commissioners, whose conduct throughout the whole affair was regulated by humanity and justice, declared that the evening before one of the witnesses had come to them and implored of them to keep his deposition secret, on account of the danger which he ran if it should be known; and, judging that in their present state of terror it would not be just to hear the witnesses, they deliberated on proroguing their session to a future period.
The commissioners, who handled the entire situation with compassion and fairness, announced that the night before, one of the witnesses had approached them and begged them to keep his statement confidential due to the risks he faced if it became known. Considering that it wouldn’t be right to hear the witnesses while they were so scared, they discussed postponing their session to a later date.
We thus see that even the papal commission could not protect against the king such of the witnesses as were honest and bold enough to maintain the innocence of the order. Strict justice was therefore out of the question, Philip would have the order guilty[Pg 313] of the most incredible crimes, and death awaited the witness who did not depose as he wished. Meantime his agents were busily engaged in tampering with the prisoners; and by threats and promises they prevailed on forty-four of them to give up their design of defending the order.
We can see that even the papal commission couldn't protect honest and brave witnesses who stood up for the order against the king. True justice was off the table because Philip wanted the order to be guilty[Pg 313] of the most unbelievable crimes, and death awaited any witness who didn’t testify the way he wanted. Meanwhile, his agents were actively trying to influence the prisoners; through threats and promises, they managed to convince forty-four of them to abandon their plans of defending the order.
On the 21st May the commissioners met, in the absence of the Archbishop of Narbonne and the Archdeacon of Trent, and, declaring their labours suspended for the present, adjourned to the 3d November.
On May 21st, the commissioners met without the Archbishop of Narbonne and the Archdeacon of Trent, and, stating that their work was on hold for now, adjourned until November 3rd.
In the interval the conduct of the council of Sens had been imitated in other provinces. The Archbishop of Rheims held a council at Senlis, by whose sentence nine Templars were committed to the flames. Another council was held at Pont-de-l'Arche by the Archbishop of Rouen, and several knights were burnt. The Bishop of Carcassonne presided at a council which delivered many victims to the secular arm. On the 18th August the Archbishop of Sens held a second council, and burned four knights. Thibault, Duke of Lorraine, the close friend of King Philip, put many Templars to death, and seized the property of the order.
In the meantime, the actions of the council of Sens were copied in other provinces. The Archbishop of Rheims held a council in Senlis, where nine Templars were sentenced to be burned. Another council took place at Pont-de-l'Arche, led by the Archbishop of Rouen, resulting in several knights being executed by fire. The Bishop of Carcassonne chaired a council that handed many victims over to the authorities. On August 18th, the Archbishop of Sens convened a second council and had four knights burned. Thibault, Duke of Lorraine, who was a close friend of King Philip, executed many Templars and took possession of the order’s property.
On the 3d November three of the papal commissioners met at Paris: they asked if any one wished to defend the order of the Templars. No one appearing they adjourned to the 27th December. On resuming their sittings they called on William de Chambonnet and Bertrand de Sartiges to give their presence at the hearing of the witnesses. These knights required the presence of Raynaud de Pruino and Peter of Bologna, but were informed that these priests had solemnly and voluntarily renounced the defence of the order, and revoked their retractations; that the latter had escaped from his prison and fled, and that the former could not be admitted to defend the order,[Pg 314] as he had been degraded at the council of Sens. The knights reiterated their refusal and retired. The commissioners then proceeded in their labours without them, and continued the examination of witnesses till the 26th May, 1311.
On November 3rd, three papal commissioners gathered in Paris. They asked if anyone wanted to defend the Templar order. When no one stepped forward, they postponed the meeting to December 27th. When they resumed, they called William de Chambonnet and Bertrand de Sartiges to attend the witness hearings. These knights requested that Raynaud de Pruino and Peter of Bologna be present, but they were informed that these priests had formally and willingly renounced their defense of the order and had taken back their retractions; the former had escaped from prison and fled, and the latter could not be allowed to defend the order since he had been deposed at the council of Sens. The knights repeated their refusal and left. The commissioners then continued their work without them and carried on examining witnesses until May 26, 1311.
The whole number of persons examined before the commission amounted to 231, for the far greater part serving-brethren. Of these about two-thirds acknowledged the truth of the principal charges against the order. The denial of Christ and spitting on the cross were very generally confessed, but many said they had spitten beside it, not on it, and also that they had denied God with their lips, not with their hearts.
The total number of people examined by the commission was 231, most of whom were fellow members. About two-thirds of them admitted to the main accusations against the order. They commonly confessed to denying Christ and spitting on the cross, but many claimed they had spit beside it, not on it, and also stated that they had denied God with their words, not their hearts.
With respect to the head which the Templars were said to worship, as it was of some importance to prove this offence, in order to make out the charge of heresy, it was testified to by a few. Some said it was like that of a man with a long white beard, others that it was like that of a woman, and that it was said to be the head of one of the 11,000 virgins. One witness gave the following account of it, which he said he had had from a secular knight at Limisso, in Cyprus.
Regarding the head that the Templars were supposedly worshipping, since it was crucial to prove this offense in order to establish the charge of heresy, a few witnesses testified about it. Some claimed it resembled a man with a long white beard, while others said it looked like a woman’s head, and that it was believed to be the head of one of the 11,000 virgins. One witness provided the following description, which he said he received from a secular knight in Limisso, Cyprus.
A certain nobleman was passionately in love with a maiden. Being unable, however, to overcome her repugnance to him, he took her body, when she was dead, out of her grave, and cut off her head, and while thus engaged he heard a voice crying—Keep it safe, whatever looks on it will be destroyed. He did as desired, and made the first trial of it on the Grissons, an Arab tribe, which dwelt in Cyprus and the neighbouring country, and whenever he uncovered the head and turned it towards any of their towns, its walls instantly fell down. He next embarked with the head for Constantinople, being resolved to destroy that city also. On the way his nurse, out of curiosity, opened the box which contained[Pg 315] the head. Instantly there came on a terrific storm, the ship went to pieces, and nearly all who were on board perished. The very fish vanished from that part of the sea.
A nobleman was deeply in love with a young woman. However, unable to win her over, he took her body from her grave after she had died, beheaded her, and while he was doing this, he heard a voice saying, Keep it safe, whatever looks on it will be destroyed. He complied and first tested it on the Grissons, an Arab tribe living in Cyprus and nearby areas. Whenever he revealed the head and pointed it at any of their towns, the walls immediately collapsed. He then set sail with the head for Constantinople, determined to bring destruction there as well. During the journey, his nurse, out of curiosity, opened the box containing[Pg 315] the head. A massive storm erupted, the ship was destroyed, and nearly everyone on board died. Even the fish disappeared from that part of the sea.
Another of the witnesses had heard the same story. The common tradition of the East, he said, was, that in old times, before the two spiritual orders of knighthood were founded, a head used to rise in a certain whirlpool named Setalia, the appearance of which was very dangerous for the ships which happened to be near it. We are to suppose, though it does not appear that the witnesses said so, that the Templars had contrived to get possession of this formidable head.
Another witness had heard the same story. He said that the common belief in the East was that in ancient times, before the two spiritual orders of knighthood were established, a head would rise in a certain whirlpool called Setalia, which was very dangerous for ships that happened to be nearby. We can assume, although the witnesses don't explicitly mention it, that the Templars managed to take control of this formidable head.
We are to observe that the witnesses who thus deposed had been picked and culled in all parts of France, by the king's officers, out of those who had confessed before the different prelates and provincial councils, and who were, by threats and promises, engaged to persist in what they had said. The terror they were under was visible in their countenances, their words, and their actions. Many of them began by saying that they would not vary from what they had deposed before such a bishop or such a council; yet even among these some were bold enough to revoke their confessions, declaring that they had been drawn from them by torture, and asserted the innocence of the order. Others retracted their confessions when brought before the commissioners, but shortly afterwards, having probably in the interval been well menaced or tortured by the king's officers, returned and retracted their retraction.
We should notice that the witnesses who testified were gathered from all over France by the king's officials, chosen from those who had confessed in front of various bishops and regional councils, and who were coerced with threats and promises to stick to what they had said. The fear they felt was evident in their faces, their words, and their actions. Many started by saying they wouldn't change what they had testified before a specific bishop or council; however, among them, some were brave enough to take back their confessions, claiming they had been forced to confess under torture, and insisted on the innocence of their order. Others withdrew their confessions when brought in front of the commissioners, but shortly afterwards, likely having been threatened or tortured by the king's officials, returned and retracted their retraction.
The case of John de Pollencourt, the thirty-seventh witness, is a remarkable instance. He began in the usual way, by declaring that he would persist in his confession made before the Bishop of Amiens, touching the denial of Christ, &c. The commissioners, observing his paleness and agitation, told him to tell[Pg 316] the truth and save his soul, and not to persist in his confession if it had not been sincere, assuring him that neither they nor their notaries would reveal any thing that he said. After a pause he replied:—
The case of John de Pollencourt, the thirty-seventh witness, is a notable example. He started in the usual manner by stating that he would stick to his confession made before the Bishop of Amiens regarding his denial of Christ, etc. The commissioners, noticing his pale face and nervousness, urged him to tell[Pg 316] the truth and save his soul, and not to hold on to his confession if it wasn't genuine, assuring him that neither they nor their notaries would disclose anything he said. After a moment of silence, he responded:—
"I declare then, on peril of my soul, and on the oath which I have taken, that, at the time of my reception, I neither denied God nor spat upon the cross, nor committed any of the indecencies of which we are accused, and was not required so to do. It is true that I have made confessions before the inquisitors; but it was through the fear of death, and because Giles de Rotangi had, with tears, said to me, and many others who were with me in prison at Montreuil, that we should pay for it with our lives, if we did not assist by our confessions to destroy the order. I yielded, and afterwards I wished to confess myself to the Bishop of Amiens; he referred me to a Minorite friar; I accused myself of this falsehood, and obtained absolution, on condition that I would make no more false depositions in this affair. I tell you the truth; I persist in attesting it before you; come what may of it, I prefer my soul to my body."
"I declare, at the risk of my soul and on the oath I've taken, that when I was received, I neither denied God nor spat on the cross, nor committed any of the offenses we're accused of, and I wasn't pressured to do so. It's true that I confessed to the inquisitors; but that was out of fear of death, because Giles de Rotangi tearfully warned me and others imprisoned with me in Montreuil that we would pay with our lives if we didn’t help destroy the order with our confessions. I gave in, and later I wanted to confess to the Bishop of Amiens; he sent me to a Minorite friar. I confessed the lie, and received absolution on the condition that I wouldn’t make any more false statements in this matter. I’m telling you the truth; I continue to affirm it before you; no matter what happens, I value my soul more than my body."
Nothing can bear more plainly the character of truth than this declaration; yet three days afterwards the witness came back, revoked it all, spoke of the cat which used to appear in the chapters, and said that, if the order had not been abolished, he would have quitted it. Had he not been well menaced and tortured in the interim?
Nothing can show the truth more clearly than this statement; yet three days later, the witness returned, retracted everything, talked about the cat that used to show up in the chapters, and said that if the order hadn't been dissolved, he would have left it. Hadn’t he been threatened and tortured in the meantime?
The examination of Peter de la Palu, a bachelor in theology of the order of the preachers, the 201st witness, brought from him these remarkable words: "I have been present at the examination of several Templars, some of whom confessed many of the things contained in the said articles, and some others totally denied them; and for many reasons it appeared to me that greater credit was to be given to those who denied than to those who confessed."
The questioning of Peter de la Palu, a bachelor in theology from the order of preachers, the 201st witness, led to these noteworthy statements: "I have witnessed the questioning of several Templars, some of whom admitted to many of the things mentioned in the articles, while others completely denied them; and for various reasons, I felt that more credibility should be given to those who denied than to those who admitted."
Chapter 11.
Examinations in England—Germany—Spain—Italy—Naples and Provence—Sicily—Cyprus—Meeting of the Council of Vienne—Suppression of the order—Fate of its Members—Death of Molay.
The time fixed for the meeting of the council at Vienne was now at hand, in which the fate of the order was to be decided. Before we proceed to narrate its acts we will briefly state the result of the examinations of the Templars in other countries.
The time set for the council meeting in Vienne was now here, where the fate of the order would be determined. Before we move on to describe its actions, we will briefly summarize the results of the examinations of the Templars in other countries.
The pope sent, as his judges, to England, Dieu-donné, abbot of Lagny, and Sicard de Vaux, canon of Narbonne; and the examinations commenced at York, London, Lincoln, and other places, on the 25th November, 1309. The inquiry continued till the council held in London in 1311; the number of Templars examined was two hundred and twenty-eight; that of the witnesses against the order was seventy-two, almost all Carmelites, Minorites, Dominicans, and Augustinians, the natural foes of the order. The Templars were treated with great mildness; and in England, Ireland, and Scotland, they were unanimous and constant in their assertion of the innocence of the order. The evidence against the order was almost all hearsay: its nature will be shown by the following specimens.
The pope appointed two judges to England: Dieu-donné, the abbot of Lagny, and Sicard de Vaux, a canon from Narbonne. The investigations began in York, London, Lincoln, and other locations on November 25, 1309. The inquiry lasted until the council that took place in London in 1311; a total of two hundred and twenty-eight Templars were examined, while seventy-two witnesses testified against the order, nearly all of whom were Carmelites, Minorites, Dominicans, and Augustinians, who were the order’s traditional adversaries. The Templars were treated quite leniently; and in England, Ireland, and Scotland, they consistently maintained the innocence of the order. The evidence presented against the order was primarily hearsay, and its nature will be illustrated by the following examples.
John de Goderal, a Minorite, had heard that Robert de Raxat, a Templar, had once gone about a meadow crying "Wo, wo is me! that ever I was born. I have been forced to deny God, and give myself up to the devil."[Pg 318]
John de Goderal, a Minorite, had heard that Robert de Raxat, a Templar, once roamed a meadow shouting, "Oh, woe is me! Why was I ever born? I've been forced to deny God and surrender myself to the devil."[Pg 318]
A Templar had said to William de Berney, in the presence of several respectable people, at the funeral of the parish-priest of Duxworth, near Cambridge, that a man has no more a soul, after death, than a dog.
A Templar told William de Berney, in front of several respected people, at the funeral of the parish priest of Duxworth, near Cambridge, that a man has no more of a soul after death than a dog.
John De Eure, a secular knight, said that he once invited the prior William de Fenne to dine with him. After dinner the prior took from his bosom a book, and gave it to the knight's lady to read. She found on a paper which was fastened into the book the following words, "Christ was not the Son of God, nor born of a virgin, but conceived by Mary, the wife of Joseph, in the same way as all other men. Christ was not a true but a false prophet, and was crucified for his own crimes and not for the redemption of mankind, &c." The lady showed this paper to her husband, who spoke to the prior, who only laughed at it; but, being brought before a court of justice, he confessed the truth, excusing himself on the grounds of his being illiterate and ignorant of what the book contained.
John De Eure, a lay knight, mentioned that he once invited Prior William de Fenne to dinner. After the meal, the prior took a book from his robe and handed it to the knight's wife to read. She discovered a note tucked into the book with the following statement: "Christ was not the Son of God, nor born of a virgin, but conceived by Mary, the wife of Joseph, in the same manner as all other men. Christ was not a true prophet but a false one, and was crucified for his own wrongdoings and not for the salvation of humanity, etc." The lady showed this note to her husband, who then confronted the prior, who just laughed it off. However, when brought before a court, he admitted the truth, justifying himself by saying he was uneducated and unaware of the book's content.
Robert of Oteringham, a Minorite, said, "One evening my prior did not appear at table, as relics were come from Palestine which he wished to show the brethren. About midnight I heard a confused noise in the chapel; I got up, and, looking through the keyhole, saw that it was lighted. In the morning I asked a brother who was the saint in whose honour they had celebrated the festival during the night? He turned pale with terror, thinking I had seen something, and said 'Ask me not; and if you value your life say nothing of it before the superiors.'"
Robert of Oteringham, a Minorite, said, "One evening my prior didn't show up for dinner because he wanted to display some relics that had come from Palestine to the brothers. Around midnight, I heard a strange noise in the chapel; I got up, and peeking through the keyhole, I saw that it was lit up. In the morning, I asked a brother who the saint was that they honored during the night festival. He turned pale with fear, thinking I had witnessed something, and said, 'Don't ask me that; and if you value your life, don't say anything about it to the superiors.'"
Another witness said that the son of a Templar had peeped through the slits of the door into the chapter-room, and seen a new member put to death for hesitating to deny Christ. Long afterwards,[Pg 319] being asked by his father to become a Templar, he refused, telling what he had seen: his father instantly slew him.
Another witness said that the son of a Templar had looked through the gaps in the door into the chapter room and saw a new member executed for hesitating to deny Christ. Much later, [Pg 319] when his father asked him to become a Templar, he refused, sharing what he had witnessed: his father immediately killed him.
John of Gertia, a Minorite, was told by a woman named Agnes Lovecote, who said she had it from Exvalethus, prior in London, that when in one of the chapters a brother had refused to spit on the cross, they suspended him in a well and covered it up. This witness also deposed to some other enormities which he said he had heard of from the same woman, herself speaking from hearsay.
John of Gertia, a Minorite, was informed by a woman named Agnes Lovecote, who claimed she heard it from Exvalethus, the prior in London, that when during one of the chapters a brother refused to spit on the cross, they suspended him in a well and covered it up. This witness also testified to some other serious wrongdoings that he said he had heard about from the same woman, who was herself speaking based on hearsay.
In June, 1310, the pope wrote to King Edward, blaming his lenity and calling on him to employ the torture in order to elicit the truth. The council of London, after a long discussion, ordered it to be employed, but so as not to mutilate the limbs or cause an incurable wound or violent effusion of blood. The knights persisted in asserting their innocence.
In June 1310, the pope wrote to King Edward, criticizing his leniency and urging him to use torture to uncover the truth. The council of London, after a lengthy discussion, decided to allow its use, but instructed that it should not result in mutilation, incurable wounds, or excessive bleeding. The knights continued to insist on their innocence.
In Germany the different prelates examined the Templars in their respective dioceses. Nothing was elicited. At Mentz the order was pronounced innocent. The Wildgraf Frederic, preceptor on the Rhine, offered to undergo the ordeal of glowing iron. He had known the Master intimately in the East, and believed him to be as good a Christian as any man.
In Germany, the various bishops investigated the Templars in their own dioceses. Nothing was revealed. In Mentz, the order was declared innocent. The Wildgraf Frederic, the preceptor on the Rhine, offered to undergo the test of glowing iron. He had known the Master well in the East and believed him to be as good a Christian as anyone.
The Templars in the Spanish peninsula were examined, and witnesses heard for and against them in Castile, Leon, Aragon, and Portugal, and nothing was proved against them. The council of Tarragona in Aragon, after applying the torture, pronounced the order free from the stain of heresy. At the council of Medina del Campo in Leon, one witness said that he had heard that, when some Minorites visited the preceptor at Villalpando, they found him reading a little book, which he instantly locked up in three boxes, saying, "This book might fall[Pg 320] into hands where it may be very dangerous to the order."
The Templars in the Spanish peninsula were investigated, and witnesses spoke both for and against them in Castile, Leon, Aragon, and Portugal, but nothing was proven against them. The council of Tarragona in Aragon, after using torture, declared the order free from any heresy. At the council of Medina del Campo in Leon, one witness said he heard that when some Minorites visited the preceptor at Villalpando, they found him reading a small book, which he quickly locked away in three boxes, saying, "This book might fall[Pg 320] into the wrong hands, which could be very dangerous for the order."
The influence of the pope may be supposed to have been stronger in Italy than in the countries above mentioned, and accordingly we find that declarations similar to those made in France were given there. Yet it was at Florence that the adoration of the idols, the cat, &c., was most fully acknowledged. In the patrimony of St. Peter some confessions to the same effect were made; but at Bologna, Cesena, and Ancona, nothing transpired. Nine Templars maintained the innocence of the order before the council of Ravenna. It was debated whether the torture should be employed. Two Dominican inquisitors were for it, the remainder of the council declared against it. It was decreed that the innocent should be absolved, the guilty punished according to law. Those who had revoked the confessions made under torture, or through fear of it, were to be regarded as innocent—a very different rule from that acted on by King Philip.
The pope's influence was likely stronger in Italy than in the previously mentioned countries, so we see similar declarations made there as in France. However, it was in Florence that the worship of idols, the cat, etc., was most openly acknowledged. In the territory of St. Peter, a few confessions to the same effect were made; but in Bologna, Cesena, and Ancona, nothing happened. Nine Templars defended the order's innocence before the council of Ravenna. There was a debate about whether torture should be used. Two Dominican inquisitors were in favor of it, while the rest of the council opposed it. It was decided that the innocent should be absolved and the guilty punished according to the law. Those who retracted confessions made under torture or out of fear of it were to be considered innocent—a very different standard from what King Philip applied.
Charles II. of Anjou, the relation of King Philip, and the enemy of the Templars, who were on the side of Frederick, king of Sicily, had the Templars seized and examined in Provence and Naples. Those examined in Provence were all serving-brethren, and some of them testified to the impiety and idolatry of the order. Two Templars were examined at Brindisi, in the kingdom of Naples, in June, 1310; one had denied the cross in Cyprus, he said, six years after he had entered the order; the other had trampled on the cross at the time of his reception. He, as well as others, had bowed down and worshipped a grey cat in the chapters.
Charles II of Anjou, related to King Philip and an enemy of the Templars, who supported Frederick, king of Sicily, had the Templars captured and interrogated in Provence and Naples. Those questioned in Provence were all serving members, and some of them reported the order's impiety and idolatry. Two Templars were examined in Brindisi, in the kingdom of Naples, in June 1310; one claimed he had denied the cross in Cyprus six years after joining the order; the other admitted to trampling on the cross during his initiation. He, along with others, had bowed down and worshipped a gray cat in the chapters.
In Sicily six Templars, the only ones who were arrested, deposed against the order. One of them said he had been received in the unlawful way in[Pg 321] Catalonia, where, as we have just seen, the innocence of the order was fully recognized. His evidence was full of absurdity. He said the cat had not appeared for a long time in the chapters but that the ancient statutes of Damietta said that it used to appear and be worshipped.
In Sicily, six Templars, the only ones who were arrested, testified against the order. One of them claimed he had been inducted in an unlawful manner in[Pg 321] Catalonia, where, as we just noted, the innocence of the order was widely acknowledged. His testimony was filled with nonsense. He mentioned that the cat hadn't shown up in the chapters for a long time but that the old statutes of Damietta stated it used to appear and was worshipped.
In Cyprus 110 witnesses were examined; 75 belonged to the order and maintained its innocence; the testimony of the remainder was also in favour of it.
In Cyprus, 110 witnesses were questioned; 75 were part of the order and upheld its innocence; the testimonies of the others also supported it.
We thus find that, in every place beyond the sphere of the influence of the king of France and his creature the pope, the innocence of the order was maintained and acknowledged; and undoubtedly the same would have been the case in France if the proceedings against it had been regulated by justice and the love of truth.
We see that in every area outside the influence of the king of France and his ally the pope, the innocence of the order was upheld and recognized; and surely, the same would have been true in France if the actions taken against it had been guided by fairness and a commitment to truth.
The time appointed for the meeting of the general council was now arrived. On the 1st October, 1311, the pope came to Vienne, which is a short distance from the city of Lyons, and found there 114 bishops, besides several other prelates, already assembled. On the 13th, the anniversary of the arrest of the Templars four years before, the council commenced its sittings in the cathedral. The pope, in his opening speech, stated the grounds of its having been convoked, namely, the process against the Templars, the support of the Holy Land, the reformation of the Church. The bishops of Soissons, Mende, Leon, and Aquila, who had been appointed to draw up a report of the result of the different examinations respecting the order, read it before the assembled fathers, who then once more invited any Templars who wished to defend the order to appear.
The time for the general council meeting had now arrived. On October 1, 1311, the pope arrived in Vienne, which is not far from the city of Lyons, and found 114 bishops and several other prelates already gathered there. On the 13th, the anniversary of the Templars' arrest four years earlier, the council began its sessions in the cathedral. In his opening speech, the pope explained why the council had been called: to address the proceedings against the Templars, support the Holy Land, and reform the Church. The bishops of Soissons, Mende, Leon, and Aquila, who were tasked with preparing a report on the various inquiries regarding the order, presented it to the gathered assembly, who once again invited any Templars who wished to defend the order to come forward.
Though the order was now broken up and persecuted, and numbers of its ablest members dead or languishing in dungeons with their superiors, yet[Pg 322] nine knights had the courage to come forward in defence of their order, and present themselves before the council as the representatives of from 1500 to 2000 Templars, who were still dwelling or rather lurking in Lyons and its vicinity. The pope was not present when they appeared, but his letter of the 11th November shows how he acted when he heard that defenders of the order had presented themselves. Clement had these brave knights arrested and thrown into prison, and, in real or affected terror at the number of Templars at large, he took additional precautions for the security of his person, and counselled the king to do the same.
Though the order was now disbanded and persecuted, with many of its most capable members dead or suffering in prisons alongside their leaders, still[Pg 322] nine knights had the bravery to step up in defense of their order and present themselves to the council as representatives of about 1500 to 2000 Templars who were still living—or rather hiding—in Lyons and its surrounding areas. The pope wasn’t present when they arrived, but his letter from November 11th shows how he reacted upon hearing that defenders of the order had come forward. Clement had these brave knights arrested and imprisoned, and, either genuinely or pretentiously fearful of the number of Templars still free, he took extra measures to ensure his own safety and advised the king to do the same.
To the honour of the assembled fathers, they refused to sanction this flagrant act of injustice. The prelates of Spain, Germany, Denmark, England, Ireland, and Scotland, without exception; the Italians, all but one; the French, with the exception of the archbishops of Rheims, Sens, and Rouen, declared, but in vain, for admitting the Templars and hearing their defence. Instead of complying with this demand of justice and humanity, Clement suddenly put an end to the session. The winter passed away in arguments and negociations.
To the honor of the gathered leaders, they refused to approve this blatant act of injustice. The bishops from Spain, Germany, Denmark, England, Ireland, and Scotland, without exception; nearly all the Italians; and the French, except for the archbishops of Rheims, Sens, and Rouen, spoke out—though in vain—about allowing the Templars to defend themselves. Instead of fulfilling this request for justice and humanity, Clement abruptly ended the session. The winter went by filled with arguments and negotiations.
Philip, whose practice it was always to look after his affairs himself, deeming his presence necessary at Vienne, set out for that place, where he arrived early in February, accompanied by his three sons, his brother, and several nobles and men-at-arms. The effect of his presence was soon perceptible; the pope assembled the cardinals and several other prelates in a secret consistory, and abolished the order, by his sole authority, on the 22d March, 1313.
Philip, who always took care of his own business, believing he needed to be in Vienne, set out for that place, arriving early in February with his three sons, his brother, and several nobles and soldiers. The impact of his presence was quickly felt; the pope called a secret meeting with the cardinals and other church leaders and, using his own authority, abolished the order on March 22, 1313.
The second session of the council was opened on the 3d April, with great solemnity; the king of France, his sons, and his brother, gave their presence at it, and the royal guards appeared for honour,[Pg 323] for protection, or for intimidation. The pope read his bull of abolition. All present listened in silence. No one ventured to raise his voice in the cause of justice. The wealthy and powerful order of the knights of the Temple was suppressed. On the 2d May the bull was published, and the order as such ceased to exist.
The second session of the council began on April 3rd, with great formality. The king of France, his sons, and his brother were in attendance, and the royal guards were there for honor,[Pg 323] protection, or intimidation. The pope read his decree of abolition. Everyone listened in silence. No one dared to speak up for justice. The wealthy and powerful order of the Knights Templar was dissolved. On May 2nd, the decree was published, and the order effectively ceased to exist.
The order being suppressed, persecution became needless, and it consequently ceased in a great measure. The king and the pope converted to their own use the moveable property of the order in France. Its other possessions were, sorely against the will of the king, assigned to the order of the Hospitallers, who were, however, obliged to pay such large fines to the king and pope as completely impoverished them. This extended to all countries, except the Spanish peninsula and Majorca. The property of the Templars in Aragon was given to the order of Our Lady of Montesa, which was founded in 1317. Its destination was to combat the Moors; its habit was similar to that of the Templars; and it might, therefore, be almost called the same order. Diniz, the able and enlightened king of Portugal, did not suppress the order, whose innocence his prelates had recognised. To yield a show of obedience to the papal will, he made it change its name, and the great-prior of the Templars in Portugal became the master of the Order of Christ, which has continued to the present times.
The order was suppressed, making persecution unnecessary, and it largely stopped. The king and the pope took control of the order's movable property in France for their own benefit. The order's other assets were, much to the king's dismay, given to the Hospitallers, who had to pay such hefty fines to the king and pope that it left them completely drained. This applied to all countries except the Spanish peninsula and Majorca. The Templars’ property in Aragon was handed over to the Order of Our Lady of Montesa, which was established in 1317 with the purpose of fighting the Moors; its attire was similar to that of the Templars, so it could almost be considered the same order. Diniz, the capable and progressive king of Portugal, did not disband the order, as his bishops recognized its innocence. To show some obedience to the pope's wishes, he had it change its name, and the grand prior of the Templars in Portugal became the master of the Order of Christ, which still exists today.
With respect to the remaining Templars, who were in prison, it was ordered in council that those who should be found guiltless should be set at liberty, and maintained out of the property of the order; that the guilty, if they confessed and lamented their offences, should be treated with mildness; if they did not, dealt with according to the ecclesiastical law, and kept in custody in the former temple-houses[Pg 324] and in the convents. Those who had escaped were, if they did not appear within a year before the council or their diocesan, to be excommunicated.
Regarding the remaining Templars who were in prison, the council decided that those found innocent should be released and supported from the order's property; those who were guilty, if they confessed and expressed remorse for their actions, should be treated leniently; if they did not confess, they should be dealt with according to church law and kept in custody in the previous temple-houses[Pg 324] and in the monasteries. Those who had fled would be excommunicated if they did not appear before the council or their bishop within a year.
Most of the knights were immediately set at liberty; but the property of the order was all gone, and no means of support remained for them: they were, therefore, reduced to the greatest distress, and many of them obliged to submit to the most menial employment in order to gain a livelihood. A great number were received into the order of St. John, on the same footing as they had stood on in their own order—a strong proof that the guilt of the order of the Templars was not, by any means, regarded as proved. Gradually, as the members died off, or merged into other orders, the name of the Templars fell into oblivion, or was only recollected with pity for their unmerited fate.
Most of the knights were released right away; however, the order’s property was completely gone, and they had no means of support left. As a result, they faced severe hardship, and many were forced to take on the most menial jobs just to make a living. A large number were accepted into the Order of St. John, on the same terms as they had been in their own order—a strong indication that the guilt of the Templars was not considered proven at all. Slowly, as the members passed away or merged into other orders, the name of the Templars faded into obscurity, remembered only with pity for their undeserved fate.
While the noble order over which he had presided was thus suppressed, its members scattered, its property bestowed on others, the Master, James de Molay, with his three companions, the great-prior of Normandy, Hugh de Peyraud, visiter of France, and Guy, brother to the Dauphin of Auvergne, still languished in prison. Molay had there but one attendant, his cook; the allowance made to him was barely sufficient to procure him common necessaries, and life had now lost all its value in his eyes. The pope at length determined to inform the captives of the fate destined for them.
While the noble order he had led was suppressed, its members scattered, and its property given to others, the Master, James de Molay, along with his three companions—the Grand Prior of Normandy, Hugh de Peyraud, the visitor of France, and Guy, brother to the Dauphin of Auvergne—remained trapped in prison. Molay only had one attendant there, his cook; the allowance given to him was barely enough to cover basic necessities, and life had lost all meaning for him. Eventually, the pope decided to inform the prisoners of their fate.
A papal commission, composed of the bishop of Alba and two other cardinals, proceeded to Paris, not to hear the prisoners, but, taking their guilt for proved, to pronounce their sentence. To give all publicity to this act, probably in accordance with the desire of the king, a stage was erected in front of the church of Notre Dame, on which the three commissioners, with the archbishop of Sens and several other[Pg 325] prelates, took their places, on the 18th March, 1314. An immense concourse of people stood around. The four noble prisoners were conducted from their dungeons, and led up on the stage. The cardinal of Alba read out their former confessions, and pronounced the sentence of perpetual imprisonment. He was then proceeding to expose the guilt of the order, when the Master interrupted him, and thus spoke, taking all the spectators to witness:—
A papal commission made up of the bishop of Alba and two other cardinals went to Paris, not to hear the prisoners, but to declare their punishment, assuming their guilt was already established. To publicize this event, likely at the king's request, a stage was set up in front of the Notre Dame church on March 18, 1314, where the three commissioners, along with the archbishop of Sens and several other prelates, took their places. A large crowd gathered around. The four noble prisoners were brought from their dungeons and led up to the stage. The cardinal of Alba read their earlier confessions and announced their sentence of lifelong imprisonment. He was about to explain the order's guilt when the Master interrupted him and spoke, addressing all the spectators:—
"It is just that, in so terrible a day, and in the last moments of my life, I should discover all the iniquity of falsehood, and make the truth to triumph. I declare, then, in the face of heaven and earth, and acknowledge, though to my eternal shame, that I have committed the greatest of crimes; but it has been the acknowledging of those which have been so foully charged on the order. I attest, and truth obliges me to attest, that it is innocent. I made the contrary declaration only to suspend the excessive pains of torture, and to mollify those who made me endure them. I know the punishments which have been inflicted on all the knights who had the courage to revoke a similar confession; but the dreadful spectacle which is presented to me is not able to make me confirm one lie by another. The life offered me on such infamous terms I abandon without regret."
"It’s just that, on such a terrible day, in the last moments of my life, I should uncover all the terrible lies and let the truth prevail. I declare, then, in front of heaven and earth, and admit, to my eternal shame, that I’ve committed the greatest crime; but it’s been in acknowledging those terrible accusations made against the order. I assert, and truth compels me to assert, that it is innocent. I only made the opposite claim to escape the unbearable pain of torture and to appease those who forced me to endure it. I know the punishments faced by all the knights who had the courage to take back a similar confession; but the horrific sight before me cannot make me confirm one lie with another. The life offered to me on such disgraceful terms, I leave behind without regret."
Molay was followed by Guy in his assertion of the innocence of the order; the other two remained silent. The commissioners were confounded, and stopped. The intelligence was conveyed to the king, who, instantly calling his council together, without any spiritual person being present, condemned the two knights to the flames.
Molay was backed by Guy in claiming the order's innocence; the other two stayed quiet. The commissioners were taken aback and halted. The news was relayed to the king, who quickly summoned his council, excluding any religious figures, and sentenced the two knights to be burned at the stake.
A pile was erected on that point of the islet in the Seine where afterwards was erected the statue of Henry IV., and the following day Molay and his[Pg 326] companion were brought forth and placed upon it. They still persisted in their assertion of the innocence of the order. The flames were first applied to their feet, then to their more vital parts. The fetid smell of their burning flesh infected the surrounding air, and added to their torments; yet still they persevered in their declarations. At length death terminated their misery. The spectators shed tears at the view of their constancy, and during the night their ashes were gathered up to be preserved as relics.
A platform was built at the spot on the islet in the Seine where the statue of Henry IV. would later be placed, and the next day, Molay and his[Pg 326] companion were brought out and put on it. They continued to insist on the innocence of their order. The flames were first set to their feet, then to more sensitive parts of their bodies. The foul smell of their burning flesh filled the air around them, adding to their suffering; yet they still held firm in their claims. Eventually, death ended their pain. The onlookers wept at their bravery, and by nightfall, their ashes were collected to be kept as relics.

Portrait of last Grand Master.
It is mentioned as a tradition, by some historians, that Molay, ere he expired, summoned Clement to appear within forty days before the Supreme Judge,[Pg 327] and Philip to the same tribunal within the space of a year. The pontiff actually did die of a cholic on the night of the 19th of the following month, and, the church in which his body was laid taking fire, the corpse was half consumed. The king, before the year had elapsed, died of a fall from his horse. Most probably it was these events which gave rise to the tradition, which testifies the general belief of the innocence of the Templars. It was also remarked that all the active persecutors of the order perished by premature or violent deaths.
Some historians say that, before he died, Molay called upon Clement to appear within forty days before the Supreme Judge,[Pg 327] and Philip to the same court within a year. The pope actually died from intestinal pain on the night of the 19th of the following month, and the church where his body was laid caught fire, leading to the body being partially burned. Before the year was up, the king died from a fall off his horse. These events likely contributed to the tradition that reflects the widespread belief in the Templars' innocence. It was also noted that all the main persecutors of the order died premature or violent deaths.
It remains to discuss the two following points:—Did the religio-military order of the Knights Templars hold a secret doctrine subversive of religion and morality? Has the order been continued down to our own days?
It’s time to talk about two points: Did the religious-military order of the Knights Templar have a secret doctrine that went against religion and morality? Has this order continued to exist into modern times?
We have seen what the evidence against the Templars was, and it is very plain that such evidence would not be admitted in any modern court of justice. It was either hearsay, or given by persons utterly unworthy of credit, or wrung from the accused by agony and torture. The articles themselves are absurd and contradictory. Are we to believe that the same men had adopted the pure deism of the Mahommedans, and were guilty of a species of idolatry[103] almost too gross for the lowest superstition? But when did this corruption commence among the Templars? Were those whom St. Bernard praised as models of Christian zeal and piety, and whom the whole Christian world admired and revered, engaged in a secret conspiracy against religion and government? Yes, boldly replies Hammer, the two humble and pious knights who founded the order were the pupils and secret allies of[Pg 328] the Mahommedan Ismaelites. This was going too far for Wilike, and he thinks that the guilt of introducing the secret doctrine lies on the chaplains; for he could discern that the doctrines of gnosticism, which the Templars are supposed to have held, were beyond the comprehension of illiterate knights, who, though they could fight and pray, were but ill qualified to enter into the mazes of mystic metaphysics. According, therefore, to one party, the whole order was corrupt from top to bottom; according to another, the secrets were confined to a few, and, contrary to all analogy, the heads of the order were frequently in ignorance of them. Neither offer any thing like evidence in support of their assumption.
We’ve looked at the evidence against the Templars, and it’s clear that such evidence wouldn’t be accepted in any modern court. It was either hearsay, provided by people who weren’t credible at all, or obtained from the accused through suffering and torture. The claims themselves are ridiculous and inconsistent. Are we really supposed to believe that the same men who embraced the pure deism of the Muslims were also guilty of a form of idolatry[103] that’s almost too crude for the simplest kind of superstition? But when did this corruption start among the Templars? Were those whom St. Bernard praised as examples of Christian zeal and piety, and whom the entire Christian world admired and respected, secretly plotting against religion and government? Yes, Hammer answers boldly, claiming that the two humble and devout knights who founded the order were the students and secret allies of[Pg 328] the Muslim Ismaelites. This was too much for Wilike, who believes that the blame for introducing secret teachings falls on the chaplains; he could see that the gnostic beliefs the Templars supposedly held were beyond the understanding of uneducated knights, who, while able to fight and pray, were poorly equipped to navigate the complexities of mystical metaphysics. Therefore, according to one viewpoint, the entire order was corrupt from top to bottom; according to another, the secrets were limited to a few, and, against all odds, the leaders of the order were often unaware of them. Neither side provides any real evidence to back up their claims.
The real guilt of the Templars was their wealth and their pride[104]: the last alienated the people from them, the former excited the cupidity of the king of France. Far be it from us to maintain that the morals of the Templars were purer than those of the other religious orders. With such ample means as they possessed of indulging all their appetites and passions, it would be contrary to all experience to suppose that they always restrained them, and we will even concede that some of their members were obnoxious to charges of deism, impiety, breaches of their religious vows, and gross licentiousness. We only deny that such were the rules of the order. Had they not been so devoted as they were to the Holy See they would perhaps have come down to us[Pg 329] as unsullied as the knights of St. John[105]; but they sided with Pope Boniface against Philip the Fair, and a subservient pontiff sacrificed to his own avarice and personal ambition the most devoted adherents of the court of Rome[106].
The true fault of the Templars was their wealth and their arrogance[104]: the latter turned people against them, while the former fueled the greed of the king of France. We don’t argue that the Templars had higher morals than other religious orders. With the resources they had to satisfy all their desires and passions, it would be unrealistic to think they always held back. We can even acknowledge that some members faced accusations of deism, irreverence, breaking their religious vows, and blatant immorality. We only claim that these were not the established rules of the order. If they hadn't been as loyal to the Holy See as they were, they might have been remembered[Pg 329] as untainted as the knights of St. John[105]; but they supported Pope Boniface against Philip the Fair, and a submissive pope sacrificed the most loyal followers of the Roman court for his own greed and ambition[106].
We make little doubt that any one who coolly and candidly considers the preceding account of the manner in which the order was suppressed will readily concede that the guilt of its members was anything but proved. It behoves their modern impugners to furnish some stronger proofs than any they have as yet brought forward. The chief adversary of the Templars at the present day is a writer whose veracity and love of justice are beyond suspicion, and who has earned for himself enduring fame by his labours in the field of oriental literature, but in whose mind, as his most partial friends must allow, learning and imagination are apt to overbalance judgment and philosophy[107]. He has been replied to by Raynouard, Münter, and other able advocates of the knights.
We have no doubt that anyone who calmly and honestly considers the previous account of how the order was suppressed will readily agree that the guilt of its members was far from proven. It's up to their modern critics to provide stronger evidence than what they've presented so far. The main opponent of the Templars today is a writer whose honesty and commitment to justice are unquestionable, and who has gained lasting recognition for his work in the field of Oriental literature. However, even his most ardent supporters must admit that his knowledge and imagination often outweigh his judgment and philosophy[107]. He has been countered by Raynouard, Münter, and other capable defenders of the knights.
We now come to the question of the continuance of the order to the present day. That it has in some sort been transmitted to our times is a matter of no[Pg 330] doubt; for, as we have just seen, the king of Portugal formed the Order of Christ out of the Templars in his dominions. But our readers are no doubt aware that the freemasons assert a connexion with the Templars, and that there is a society calling themselves Templars, whose chief seat is at Paris, and whose branches extend into England and other countries. The account which they give of themselves is as follows:—
We now address the question of the order's continuation to the present day. It’s definitely been passed down to our time; as we've just noted, the king of Portugal created the Order of Christ from the Templars in his territories. But our readers likely know that the freemasons claim a connection to the Templars and that there is a group calling themselves Templars, with their main headquarters in Paris, and branches spread across England and other countries. Their description of themselves is as follows:—
James de Molay, in the year 1314, in anticipation of his speedy martyrdom, appointed Johannes Marcus Lormenius to be his successor in his dignity. This appointment was made by a regular well-authenticated charter, bearing the signatures of the various chiefs of the order, and it is still preserved at Paris, together with the statutes, archives, banners, &c., of the soldiery of the Temple. There has been an unbroken succession of grand-masters down to the present times, among whom are to be found some of the most illustrious names in France. Bertrand du Guesclin was grand-master for a number of years; the dignity was sustained by several of the Montmorencies; and during the last century the heads of the society were princes of the different branches of the house of Bourbon. Bernard Raymond Fabré Palaprat is its head at present, at least was so a few years ago[108].
James de Molay, in 1314, anticipating his imminent martyrdom, appointed Johannes Marcus Lormenius as his successor. This appointment was made through an authentic charter, signed by various leaders of the order, and it is still kept in Paris along with the statutes, archives, banners, etc., of the Knights Templar. There has been a continuous line of grandmasters up to the present day, among whom are some of the most notable names in France. Bertrand du Guesclin served as grandmaster for several years; the position was held by several members of the Montmorency family; and in the last century, the heads of the organization were princes from different branches of the Bourbon family. Bernard Raymond Fabré Palaprat is currently the head, or at least was a few years ago[108].
This is no doubt a very plausible circumstantial account; but, on applying the Ithuriel spear of criticism to it, various ugly shapes resembling falsehood start up. Thus Molay, we are told, appointed his successor in 1314. He was put to death on the[Pg 331] 18th March of that year, and the order had been abolished nearly a year before. Why then did he delay so long, and why was he become so apprehensive of martyrdom at that time, especially when, as is well known, there was then no intention of putting him to death? Again, where were the chiefs of the society at that time? How many of them were living? and how could they manage to assemble in the dungeon of Molay and execute a formal instrument! Moreover, was it not repugnant to the rules and customs of the Templars for a Master to appoint his successor? These are a few of the objections which we think may be justly made; and, on the whole, we feel strongly disposed to reject the whole story.
This account seems believable at first, but when we apply critical analysis, several inconsistencies appear. For instance, we’re told that Molay appointed his successor in 1314. He was executed on the[Pg 331] 18th of March that same year, and the order was already dissolved nearly a year earlier. So why did he wait so long, and why was he so fearful of martyrdom at that point, especially since it was well-known that there were no plans to execute him? Furthermore, where were the society's leaders at that time? How many were still alive? How could they gather in Molay's dungeon and create an official document? Additionally, wasn’t it against the rules and customs of the Templars for a Master to choose his successor? These are just some of the valid objections we have, and overall, we find ourselves inclined to dismiss the entire story.
As to the freemasons, we incline to think that it was the accidental circumstance of the name of the Templars which has led them to claim a descent from that order; and it is possible that, if the same fate had fallen on the knights of St. John, the claim had never been set up. We are very far from denying that at the time of the suppression of the order of the Temple there was a secret doctrine in existence, and that the overthrow of the papal power, with its idolatry, superstition, and impiety, was the object aimed at by those who held it, and that freemasonry may possibly be that doctrine under another name[109]. But we are perfectly convinced that no proof of any weight has been given of the Templars' participation in that doctrine, and that all probability is on the other side. We regard them, in fine, whatever their sins may have been, as martyrs—martyrs to the cupidity, blood-thirstiness, and ambition of the king of France.
As for the freemasons, we think it was just the coincidence of the Templars' name that led them to claim a connection to that order; and it's possible that if the same fate had befallen the knights of St. John, this claim would never have been made. We do not deny that at the time the order of the Temple was dissolved, there was a secret doctrine in existence, and that the goal of those who held it was to overthrow the papal power, with its idolatry, superstition, and impiety. Freemasonry might actually be that doctrine under a different name[109]. However, we are fully convinced that there hasn’t been any substantial proof of the Templars' involvement in that doctrine, and likelihood points in the opposite direction. Ultimately, we see them, regardless of their faults, as martyrs—martyrs to the greed, bloodthirstiness, and ambition of the king of France.
THE SECRET TRIBUNALS OF WESTPHALIA[110].
Chapter 1.
Introduction—The Original Westphalia—Conquest of the Saxons by Charlemagne—His Regulations—Dukes of Saxony—State of Germany—Henry the Lion—His Outlawry—Consequences of it—Origin of German Towns—Origin of the Fehm-gerichte, or Secret Tribunals—Theories of their Origin—Origin of their Name—Synonymous Terms.
We are now arrived at an association remarkable in itself, but which has been, by the magic arts of romancers, especially of the great archimage of the north, enveloped in darkness, mystery, and awe, far beyond the degree in which such a poetical investiture can be bestowed upon it by the calm inquirer after truth. The gloom of midnight will rise to the mind of many a reader at the name of the Secret[Pg 333] Tribunals of Westphalia: a dimly lighted cavern beneath the walls of some castle, or peradventure Swiss hostelrie, wherein sit black-robed judges in solemn silence, will be present to his imagination, and he is prepared with breathless anxiety to peruse the details of deeds without a name[111].
We have now reached a noteworthy association that, while remarkable in itself, has been shrouded in darkness, mystery, and awe by the storytelling magic of writers, particularly the great master from the north. This poetic embellishment far surpasses what a calm seeker of truth could bestow upon it. The imagery of midnight may come to mind for many readers at the mention of the Secret[Pg 333] Tribunals of Westphalia: a dimly lit cave beneath the walls of a castle or perhaps a Swiss hostel, where black-robed judges sit in solemn silence. Readers are left with a breathless anticipation to explore the details of nameless deeds[111].
We fear that we cannot promise the full gratification of these high-wrought expectations. Extraordinary as the Secret Tribunals really were, we can only view them as an instance of that compensating principle which may be discerned in the moral as well as in the natural empire of the Deity; for, during the most turbulent and lawless period of the history of Germany, almost the sole check on crime, in a large portion of that country, was the salutary terror of these Fehm-Gerichte, or Secret Tribunals. And those readers who have taken their notions of them only from works of fiction will learn with surprise that no courts of justice at the time exceeded, or perhaps we might say equalled, them in the equity of their proceedings.
We’re afraid we can’t promise to fully satisfy these high expectations. As extraordinary as the Secret Tribunals were, we can only see them as an example of the balancing principle that can be found in both the moral and natural realm of the Deity. During the most chaotic and lawless times in Germany's history, the main deterrent to crime in much of the country was the effective fear instilled by these Fehm-Gerichte, or Secret Tribunals. Those readers who have only learned about them from fictional works will be surprised to find that no courts at the time surpassed, or maybe even matched, them in fairness and justice.
Unfortunately their history is involved in much obscurity, and we cannot, as in the case of the two preceding societies, clearly trace this association from its first formation to the time when it became evanescent and faded from the view. While it flourished, the dread and the fear of it weighed too heavily on the minds of men to allow them to venture to pry into its mysteries. Certain and instantaneous death was the portion of the stranger who was seen at any place where a tribunal was sitting, or who dared so[Pg 334] much as to look into the books which contained the laws and ordinances of the society. Death was also the portion of any member of the society who revealed its secrets; and so strongly did this terror, or a principle of honour, operate, that, as Æneas Sylvius (afterwards Pope Pius II.), the secretary of the Emperor Frederick III., assures us, though the number of the members usually exceeded 100,000, no motive had ever induced a single one to be faithless to his trust. Still, however, sufficient materials are to be found for satisfying all reasonable curiosity on the subject.
Unfortunately, their history is shrouded in a lot of mystery, and we can’t, like we could with the previous two societies, clearly trace this association from its beginnings to the point when it became insignificant and disappeared from sight. While it was thriving, the dread and fear surrounding it weighed heavily on people's minds, preventing them from trying to uncover its secrets. Anyone who was seen near a tribunal or dared to glance at the books containing the society's laws faced certain and immediate death. This also applied to any member who revealed its secrets. The fear of this, or a sense of honor, was so powerful that, as Æneas Sylvius (who later became Pope Pius II.), the secretary to Emperor Frederick III, points out, even though the membership often exceeded 100,000, no one was ever motivated to betray their trust. However, there are still enough materials available to satisfy all reasonable curiosity on the topic.
To ascertain the exact and legal sphere of the operation of this formidable jurisdiction, and to point out its most probable origin, are necessary preliminaries to an account of its constitution and its proceedings. We shall therefore commence with the consideration of these points.
To determine the exact legal scope of this powerful jurisdiction and to identify its most likely origin are essential preliminary steps before discussing its structure and processes. So, we will start by looking at these issues.
Westphalia, then, was the birth-place of this institution, and over Westphalia alone did it exercise authority. But the Westphalia of the middle ages did not exactly correspond with that of the later times. In a general sense it comprehended the country between the Rhine and the Weser; its southern boundary was the mountains of Hesse; its northern, the district of Friesland, which at that time extended from Holland to Sleswig. In the records and law-books of the middle ages, this land bears the mystic appellation of the red earth, a name derived, as one writer thinks, from the gules, or red, which was the colour of the field in the ducal shield of Saxony; another regards it as synonymous with the bloody earth; and a third hints that it may owe its origin to the red colour of the soil in some districts of Westphalia.
Westphalia was the birthplace of this institution, and it only had authority over Westphalia. However, the Westphalia of the Middle Ages didn't exactly match that of later times. Generally, it included the area between the Rhine and the Weser rivers; its southern border was the Hesse mountains, and its northern border was the Friesland region, which then extended from Holland to Sleswig. In the records and legal texts of the Middle Ages, this land is referred to as the red earth, a name that one writer believes comes from the gules, or red, which appeared on the ducal shield of Saxony; another writer thinks it means bloody earth; and a third suggests it may originate from the red color of the soil in some areas of Westphalia.
This land formed a large portion of the country of the Saxons, who, after a gallant resistance of thirty[Pg 335] years, were forced to submit to the sway of Charlemagne, and to embrace the religion of their conqueror. The Saxons had hitherto lived in a state of rude independence, and their dukes and princes possessed little or no civil power, being merely the presidents in their assemblies and their leaders in war. Charlemagne thought it advisable to abolish this dignity altogether, and he extended to the country of the Saxons the French system of counts and counties. Each count was merely a royal officer who exercised in the district over which he was placed the civil and military authority. The missi dominici or regii were despatched from the court to hold their visitations in Saxony, as well as in the other dominions of Charles, and at these persons of all classes might appear and prefer their complaints to the representative of the king, if they thought themselves aggrieved by the count or any of the inferior officers.
This area made up a large part of the Saxon territory, which, after a brave struggle lasting thirty[Pg 335] years, had to submit to Charlemagne's rule and accept the religion of their conqueror. Until then, the Saxons lived with a rough form of independence, and their dukes and princes held little to no civil power, serving only as leaders in their assemblies and in battle. Charlemagne decided to eliminate this position completely and introduced the French system of counts and counties in Saxon lands. Each count was essentially a royal official who held civil and military authority in their designated area. The missi dominici or regii were sent from the court to conduct their inspections in Saxony as well as in Charles's other territories, where people from all walks of life could come forward and voice their complaints to the king's representative if they felt wronged by the count or any lower officials.
In the reign of Louis the German, the excellent institutions of Charlemagne had begun to fall into desuetude; anarchy and violence had greatly increased. The incursions of the Northmen had become most formidable, and the Vends[112] also gave great disturbance to Germany. The Saxon land being the part most immediately exposed to invasion, the emperor resolved to revive the ancient dignity of dukes, and to place the district under one head, who might direct the energies of the whole people against the invaders. The duke was a royal lieutenant, like the counts, only differing from them in the extent of the district over which he exercised authority. The first duke of Saxony was Count Ludolf, the founder of Gandersheim; on his death the dignity was conferred on his son Bruno, who, being[Pg 336] slain in the bloody battle of Ebsdorf fought against the Northmen, was succeeded by his younger brother Otto, the father of Henry the Fowler.
During the reign of Louis the German, the great systems established by Charlemagne had begun to fall out of use; chaos and violence had significantly increased. The raids by the Northmen had become particularly threatening, and the Vends also caused major disturbances in Germany. The Saxon region was the area most directly vulnerable to invasion, so the emperor decided to restore the old position of dukes and place the area under a single leader who could unite the people against the attackers. The duke served as a royal representative, similar to the counts, but differed in the size of the territory they governed. The first duke of Saxony was Count Ludolf, the founder of Gandersheim; after his death, the title was passed on to his son Bruno, who was killed in the bloody battle of Ebsdorf against the Northmen. He was succeeded by his younger brother Otto, who was the father of Henry the Fowler.
On the failure of the German branch of the Carlovingians, the different nations which composed the Germanic body appointed Conrad the Franconian to be their supreme head; for a new enemy, the Magyars, or Hungarians, now harassed the empire, and energy was demanded from its chief. Of this Conrad himself was so convinced, that, when dying, after a short reign, he recommended to the choice of the electors, not his own brother, but Henry the Fowler, Duke of Saxony, who had, in his conflicts with the Vends and the Northmen, given the strongest proofs of his talents and valour. Henry was chosen, and the measures adopted by him during his reign, and the defeat of the Hungarians, justified the act of his elevation.
On the collapse of the German branch of the Carolingians, the various nations that made up the Germanic body chose Conrad the Franconian as their leader. A new threat, the Magyars or Hungarians, was attacking the empire, and strong leadership was needed. Conrad was so convinced of this that, on his deathbed after a brief reign, he recommended not his own brother but Henry the Fowler, Duke of Saxony, for the electors to consider. Henry had shown remarkable skill and courage in his battles against the Vends and the Northmen. Henry was elected, and the actions he took during his reign and his victory over the Hungarians proved that this decision was the right one.
On the death of Henry, his son Otto, afterwards justly styled the Great, was unanimously chosen to succeed him in the imperial dignity. Otto conferred the Duchy of Saxony on Herman Billung. From their constant warfare with the Vends and the Northmen, the Saxons were now esteemed the most valiant nation in Germany, and they were naturally the most favoured by the emperors of the house of Saxony. This line ending with Henry II. in 1024, the sceptre passed to that of Franconia, under which and the succeeding line of Suabia, owing to the contests with the popes about investitures and to various other causes, the imperial power greatly declined in Germany; anarchy and feuds prevailed to an alarming extent; the castles of the nobles became dens of robbers; and law and justice were nowhere to be found.
Upon Henry's death, his son Otto, later known as Otto the Great, was unanimously chosen to take over the imperial position. Otto granted the Duchy of Saxony to Herman Billung. Because of their ongoing battles with the Vends and the Northmen, the Saxons were now regarded as the bravest nation in Germany, and they were naturally the most favored by the emperors from the House of Saxony. With this line ending with Henry II in 1024, the throne passed to the Franconians, and under them, along with the subsequent line from Swabia, the imperial power greatly weakened in Germany due to struggles with the popes over investitures and various other issues. Anarchy and feuds became rampant; noble castles turned into dens of robbers, and law and justice were nowhere to be found.
The most remarkable event of this disastrous period, and one closely connected with our subject,[Pg 337] is the outlawry of Henry the Lion, Duke of Saxony and Bavaria. Magnus, the last of the Billungs of Saxony, died, leaving only two daughters, of whom the eldest was married to Henry the Black, Duke of Bavaria, who consequently had, according to the maxims of that age, a right to the Duchy of Saxony; but the Emperor Henry V. refused to admit his claim, and conferred it on Lothaire of Supplinburg. As, however, Henry the Black's son, Henry the Proud, was married to the only daughter of Lothaire, and this prince succeeded Henry V. in the empire, Henry found no difficulty in obtaining the Duchy of Saxony from his father-in-law, who also endeavoured to have him chosen his successor in the imperial dignity. But the other princes were jealous of him, and on the death of Lothaire they hastily elected Conrad of Suabia, who, under the pretext that no duke should possess two duchies, called on Henry to resign either Saxony or Bavaria. On his refusal, Conrad, in conjunction with the princes of the empire, pronounced them both forfeited, and conferred Bavaria on the Margraf of Austria, and Saxony on Albert the Bear, the son of the second daughter of Duke Magnus of Saxony.
The most significant event of this disastrous time, and one closely related to our topic,[Pg 337] is the outlawing of Henry the Lion, Duke of Saxony and Bavaria. Magnus, the last of the Billungs of Saxony, died, leaving behind two daughters, the eldest of whom was married to Henry the Black, Duke of Bavaria. Therefore, he had a claim to the Duchy of Saxony based on the customs of that time. However, Emperor Henry V. refused to acknowledge his claim and granted it to Lothaire of Supplinburg. Yet, since Henry the Black's son, Henry the Proud, was married to Lothaire's only daughter, and this prince succeeded Henry V. as emperor, Henry had no trouble getting the Duchy of Saxony from his father-in-law, who also tried to have him chosen as his successor as emperor. But the other princes were jealous of him, and upon Lothaire's death, they quickly elected Conrad of Suabia. Under the pretext that no duke should hold two duchies, he demanded that Henry give up either Saxony or Bavaria. When Henry refused, Conrad, along with the princes of the empire, declared both duchies forfeited and gave Bavaria to the Margrave of Austria and Saxony to Albert the Bear, the son of Magnus's second daughter.
Saxony was, however, afterwards restored by Conrad to Henry the Lion, son of Henry the Proud, and Conrad's successor, Frederick Barbarossa, gave him again Bavaria. Henry had himself carried his arms from the Elbe to the Baltic, and conquered a considerable territory from the Vends, which he regarded as his own peculiar principality. He was now master of the greater part of Germany, and it was quite evident that he must either obtain the imperial dignity or fall. His pride and his severity made him many enemies; but as he had no child but a daughter, who was married to a cousin of the emperor, his power was regarded without much[Pg 338] apprehension. It was, however, the ambition of Henry to be the father of a race of heroes, and, after the fashion of those times, he divorced his wife and espoused Matilda, daughter of Henry II. of England, by whom he had four sons. Owing to this and other circumstances all friendly feeling ceased between Henry and the emperor, whom, however, he accompanied on the expedition to Italy, which terminated in the battle of Legnano. But he suddenly drew off his forces and quitted the imperial army on the way, and Frederick, imputing the ill success which he met with in a great measure to the conduct of the Duke of Saxony, was, on his return to Germany, in a mood to lend a ready ear to any charges against him. These did not fail soon to pour in: the Saxon clergy, over whom he had arrogated a right of investiture, appeared as his principal accusers. Their charges, which were partly true, partly false, were listened to by Frederick and the princes of the empire, and the downfall of Henry was resolved upon. He was thrice summoned, but in vain, to appear and answer the charges made against him. He was summoned a fourth time, but to as little purpose; the sentence of outlawry was then formally pronounced at Würtzburg. He denied the legality of the sentence, and attempted to oppose its execution; several counts stood by him in his resistance; but he was forced to submit and sue for grace at Erfurt. The emperor pardoned him and permitted him to retain his allodial property on condition of his leaving Germany for three years. He was deprived of all his imperial fiefs, which were immediately bestowed upon others.
Saxony was later returned to Henry the Lion, son of Henry the Proud, by Conrad, and Conrad's successor, Frederick Barbarossa, gave him Bavaria again. Henry expanded his territory from the Elbe to the Baltic, defeating the Vends and claiming that area as his own principality. He became the dominant power in much of Germany, and it was clear that he had to either secure the imperial throne or face defeat. His pride and harshness earned him many enemies; however, since he only had a daughter married to a cousin of the emperor, he wasn't viewed as much of a threat. Nevertheless, Henry was ambitious to establish a lineage of heroes, so, following the customs of the time, he divorced his wife and married Matilda, daughter of Henry II of England, with whom he had four sons. Due to this and other factors, all sense of camaraderie between Henry and the emperor vanished. Yet, he joined the emperor on the expedition to Italy, which ended with the battle of Legnano. However, he abruptly withdrew his forces and left the imperial army along the way. Frederick, blaming his unsuccessful campaign largely on the Duke of Saxony, became more receptive to any accusations against him upon returning to Germany. Accusations soon came pouring in, mainly from the Saxon clergy, whom he had claimed the right to invest. Their accusations, some true and some false, caught the attention of Frederick and the princes of the empire, and they decided to bring about Henry's downfall. He was summoned three times to defend himself, but each time in vain. When he was summoned a fourth time, it was equally fruitless; the formal declaration of outlawry was then made in Würzburg. He denied the legitimacy of the verdict and tried to resist its enforcement; several counts supported his resistance, but he was ultimately forced to yield and ask for forgiveness in Erfurt. The emperor pardoned him and allowed him to keep his allodial property on the condition that he leave Germany for three years. He lost all his imperial fiefs, which were immediately granted to others.
In the division of the spoil of Henry the Lion Saxony was cut up into pieces; a large portion of it went to the Archbishop of Cologne; and Bernhard of Anhalt, son of Albert the Bear, obtained a considerable[Pg 339] part of the remainder; the supremacy over Holstein, Mecklenburg, and Pomerania, ceased; and Lübeck became a free imperial city. All the archbishops, bishops, counts, and barons, seized as much as they could, and became immediate vassals of the empire. Neither Bernhard nor the Archbishop of Cologne was able completely to establish his power over the portion assigned him, and lawless violence everywhere prevailed. "There was no king in Israel, and every one did that which was right in his own eyes," is the language of the Chronicler[113].
In the division of Henry the Lion's spoils, Saxony was divided up; a large part went to the Archbishop of Cologne, and Bernhard of Anhalt, son of Albert the Bear, got a significant[Pg 339] portion of what was left. The supremacy over Holstein, Mecklenburg, and Pomerania ended, and Lübeck became a free imperial city. All the archbishops, bishops, counts, and barons seized as much as they could, becoming direct vassals of the empire. Neither Bernhard nor the Archbishop of Cologne managed to fully establish their power over their assigned territories, and chaos reigned everywhere. As the Chronicler put it, “There was no king in Israel, and everyone did what was right in their own eyes.”
We here again meet an instance of the compensatory principle which prevails in the arrangements of Providence. It was the period of turbulence and anarchy succeeding the outlawry of Henry the Lion which gave an impulse to the building or enlarging of towns in the north of Germany. The free Germans, as described by Tacitus, scorned to be pent up within walls and ditches; and their descendants in Saxony would seem to have inherited their sentiments, for there were no towns in that country till the time of Henry the Fowler. As a security against the Northmen, the Slavs, and the Magyars, this monarch caused pieces of land to be enclosed by earthen walls and ditches, within which was collected a third part of the produce of the surrounding country, and in which he made every ninth man of the population fix his residence. The courts of justice were held in these places to give them consequence; and, their strength augmenting with their population, they became towns capable of resisting the attacks of the enemy, and of giving shelter and defence to the people of the open country. Other towns, such as Münster, Osnabrück (Osnaburgh), Paderborn, and Minden, grew up gradually, from the desire of the[Pg 340] people to dwell close to abbeys, churches, and episcopal residences, whence they might obtain succour in time of temporal or spiritual need, and derive protection from the reverence shown to the church. A third class of towns owed their origin to the stormy period of which we now write; for the people of the open country, the victims of oppression and tyranny, fled to where they might, in return for their obedience, meet with some degree of protection, and erected their houses at the foot of the castle of some powerful nobleman. These towns gradually increased in power, with the favour of the emperors, who, like other monarchs, viewing in them allies against the excessive power of the church and the nobility, gladly bestowed on them extensive privileges; and from these originated the celebrated Hanseatic League, to which almost every town of any importance in Westphalia belonged, either mediately or immediately.
We encounter here another example of the compensatory principle that governs the design of Providence. It was during the chaotic and lawless times that followed the banishment of Henry the Lion that the growth of towns in northern Germany took off. The free Germans, as Tacitus described, looked down on living confined within walls and ditches; and their descendants in Saxony seemed to have inherited this mindset, as there were no towns in that region until the era of Henry the Fowler. To protect against the Northmen, the Slavs, and the Magyars, this king had land enclosed by earthen walls and ditches, where a third of the local harvest was stored, and mandated that every ninth man of the population settle there. Courts of justice were held in these locations to give them importance; as their population grew, they became towns capable of withstanding enemy attacks and providing shelter and protection for those in the surrounding countryside. Other towns, like Münster, Osnabrück (Osnaburgh), Paderborn, and Minden, developed gradually because the people wanted to live close to abbeys, churches, and bishop residences, where they could seek assistance during times of need and gain safety from the respect afforded to the church. A third group of towns emerged during the tumultuous period we are discussing; the rural populace, suffering from oppression and tyranny, fled to where they could find some protection in exchange for their loyalty, building their homes at the base of a powerful nobleman's castle. These towns steadily grew in power, gaining favor with the emperors, who recognized them as allies against the church and nobility's overwhelming power, generously granting them extensive privileges. This development led to the formation of the renowned Hanseatic League, which almost every significant town in Westphalia was part of, either directly or indirectly.
But the growth of cities, and the prosperity and the better system of social regulation which they presented, were not the only beneficial effects which resulted from the overthrow of the power of Henry the Lion. There is every reason to conclude that it was at this period that the Fehm-gerichte, or Secret Tribunals, were instituted in Westphalia; at least, the earliest document in which there is any clear and express mention of them is dated in the year 1267. This is an instrument by which Engelbert, Count of the Mark, frees one Gervin of Kinkenrode from the feudal obligations for his inheritance of Broke, which was in the county of Mark; and it is declared to have been executed at a place named Berle, the court being presided over by Bernhard of Henedorp, and the Fehmenotes being present. By the Fehmenotes were at all times understood the initiated in the secrets of the Westphalian tribunals; so that we have here a clear and decisive proof of the existence of these[Pg 341] tribunals at that time. In another document, dated 1280, the Fehmenotes again appear as witnesses, and after this time the mention of them becomes frequent.
But the growth of cities, along with their prosperity and improved social regulations, were not the only positive outcomes from the fall of Henry the Lion's power. There’s strong evidence that this was the time when the Fehm-gerichte, or Secret Tribunals, were established in Westphalia; in fact, the earliest document that explicitly mentions them is dated 1267. This document, issued by Engelbert, Count of the Mark, releases Gervin of Kinkenrode from the feudal obligations related to his inheritance of Broke, which was part of the county of Mark. It states that it was executed at a place called Berle, with the court overseen by Bernhard of Henedorp, and the Fehmenotes in attendance. The Fehmenotes were always understood to be those initiated into the secrets of the Westphalian tribunals, providing clear evidence of these[Pg 341] tribunals existing at that time. In another document from 1280, the Fehmenotes appear again as witnesses, and afterwards, references to them become more common.
We thus find that, in little more than half a century after the outlawry of Henry the Lion, the Fehm-gerichte were in operation in Westphalia; and there is not the slightest allusion to them before that date, or any proof, at all convincing, to be produced in favour of their having been an earlier institution. Are we not, therefore, justified in adopting the opinion of those who place their origin in the first half of the thirteenth century, and ascribe it to the anarchy and confusion consequent on the removal of the power which had hitherto kept within bounds the excesses of the nobles and the people? And is it a conjecture altogether devoid of probability that some courageous and upright men may have formed a secret determination to apply a violent remedy to the intolerable evils which afflicted the country, and to have adopted those expedients for preserving the public peace, out of which gradually grew the Secret Tribunals? or that some powerful prince of the country, acting from purely selfish motives, devised the plan of the society, and appointed his judges to make the first essay of it[114]?
We see that, just a little over fifty years after Henry the Lion was outcast, the Fehm courts were up and running in Westphalia; there’s no mention of them before that time, nor is there any convincing evidence that they existed earlier. Aren't we justified in agreeing with those who believe they originated in the early thirteenth century as a response to the chaos and disorder that followed the loss of the authority that had previously kept noble and commoner excesses in check? Is it completely unlikely that some brave and principled individuals decided to take a drastic approach to the serious problems plaguing the country, creating methods to maintain public order that eventually led to the establishment of the Secret Tribunals? Or could it be that some influential local ruler, acting out of pure self-interest, came up with the idea for the society and appointed judges to test it out[114]?
Still it must be confessed that the origin of the Fehm-gerichte is involved in the same degree of obscurity which hangs over that of the Hanseatic league and so many other institutions of the middle ages; and little hopes can be entertained of this obscurity ever being totally dispelled. Conjecture will, therefore, ever have free scope of the subject; and the opinion which we have just expressed ourselves as inclined to adopt is only one of nine which have been already advanced on it. Four of these carry[Pg 342] back the origin of the Fehm-gerichte to the time of Charlemagne, making them to have been either directly instituted by that great prince, or to have gradually grown out of some of his other institutions for the better governing of his states. A fifth places their origin in the latter half of the eleventh century, and regards them as an invention of the Westphalian clergy for forwarding the views of the popes in their attempt to arrive at dominion over all temporal princes. A sixth ascribes the institution to St. Engelbert, Archbishop of Cologne, to whom the Emperor Frederic II. committed the administration of affairs in Germany during his own absence in Sicily, and who was distinguished for his zeal in the persecution of heretics. He modelled it, the advocates of this opinion say, on that of the Inquisition, which had lately been established. The seventh and eighth theories are undeserving of notice. On the others we shall make a few remarks.
Still, it must be acknowledged that the origins of the Fehm courts are just as unclear as those of the Hanseatic League and many other institutions from the Middle Ages; and there's little hope that this obscurity will ever be completely cleared up. Therefore, speculation about the topic will always be possible. The opinion we’ve just expressed is only one of nine that have already been proposed. Four of these go back to the time of Charlemagne, suggesting they were either directly established by him or gradually evolved from some of his other institutions for better governing his territories. A fifth opinion places their origin in the latter half of the eleventh century, viewing them as a creation of the Westphalian clergy to support the popes’ attempts to gain control over all temporal rulers. A sixth connects the institution to St. Engelbert, Archbishop of Cologne, to whom Emperor Frederic II. delegated the governance of affairs in Germany during his absence in Sicily, and who was notable for his enthusiasm in persecuting heretics. Proponents of this view claim he modeled it after the Inquisition, which had recently been established. The seventh and eighth theories are not worth mentioning. We will offer a few comments on the others.
The first writers who mention the Fehm-gerichte are Henry of Hervorden, a Dominican, who wrote against them in the reign of the Emperor Charles IV., about the middle of the fourteenth century; and Æneas Sylvius, the secretary of Frederic III., a century later. These writers are among those who refer the origin of the Fehm-gerichte to Charlemagne, and such was evidently the current opinion of the time—an opinion studiously disseminated by the members of the society, who sought to give it consequence in the eyes of the emperor and people, by associating it with the memory of the illustrious monarch of the West. There is, however, neither external testimony nor internal probability to support that opinion. Eginhart, the secretary and biographer of Charlemagne, and all the other contemporary writers, are silent on the subject; the valuable fragments of the ancient Saxon laws collected in the twelfth century[Pg 343] make not the slightest allusion to these courts; and, in fine, their spirit and mode of procedure are utterly at variance with the Carlovingian institutions. As to the hypothesis which makes Archbishop Engelbert the author of the Fehm-gerichte, it is entirely unsupported by external evidence, and has nothing in its favour but the coincidence, in point of time, of Engelbert's administration with the first account which we have of this jurisdiction, and the similarity which it bore in the secrecy of its proceedings to that of the Holy Inquisition—a resemblance easy to be accounted for, without any necessity for having recourse to the supposition of the one being borrowed from the other.
The first writers to mention the Fehm-gerichte are Henry of Hervorden, a Dominican, who wrote against them during the reign of Emperor Charles IV in the mid-14th century, and Æneas Sylvius, the secretary of Frederick III, a century later. These authors are among those who trace the origins of the Fehm-gerichte back to Charlemagne, which was clearly a common belief of the time—an idea actively promoted by members of the society to enhance its status in the eyes of the emperor and the public by linking it to the legacy of the great monarch of the West. However, there is neither external evidence nor internal likelihood to support that belief. Eginhart, Charlemagne’s secretary and biographer, along with all other contemporary writers, does not mention it; the valuable fragments of ancient Saxon laws compiled in the 12th century[Pg 343] make no reference to these courts; and, ultimately, their character and procedures are completely inconsistent with Carolingian institutions. As for the theory that attributes the authorship of the Fehm-gerichte to Archbishop Engelbert, it lacks any external evidence and is supported only by the timing of Engelbert's administration coinciding with the earliest account we have of this jurisdiction, as well as the similarity of its secret proceedings to those of the Holy Inquisition—a resemblance that can be easily explained without suggesting that one borrowed from the other.
We can therefore only say with certainty that, in the middle of the thirteenth century, the Fehm-gerichte were existing and in operation in the country which we have described as the Westphalia of the middle ages. To this we may add that this jurisdiction extended over the whole of that country, and was originally confined to it, all the courts in other parts of Germany, which bore a resemblance to the Westphalian Fehm-gerichte, being of a different character and nature[115].
We can only confidently say that, in the middle of the thirteenth century, the Fehm-gerichte were active and functioning in the region we’ve referred to as medieval Westphalia. Additionally, we can note that this authority covered the entire area and was initially restricted to it, as all the courts in other parts of Germany that resembled the Westphalian Fehm-gerichte had a distinct character and nature[115].
It remains, before proceeding to a description of these tribunals, to give some account of the origin of their name. And here again we find ourselves involved in as much difficulty and uncertainty as when inquiring into the origin of the society itself.
It’s important, before we describe these tribunals, to explain the origin of their name. Once again, we encounter just as much difficulty and uncertainty as we did when we looked into the origins of the society itself.
Almost every word in the German and cognate languages, which bears the slightest resemblance to the word Fehm[116], has been given by some writer or other as[Pg 344] its true etymon. It is unnecessary, in the present sketch of the history of the Fehm-gerichte, to discuss the merits of each of the claimants: we shall content ourselves with remarking that, among those which appear to have most probability in their favour, is the Latin Fama, which was first proposed by Leibnitz. At the time when we have most reason for supposing these tribunals to have been instituted the Germans were familiar with the language of the civil and canonical laws; the Fehm-gerichte departed from the original maxim of German law, which was—no accuser, no judge, and, in imitation of those foreign laws[117], proceeded on common fame, and without any formal accusation against persons suspected of crime or of evil courses. Moreover, various tribunals, not in Westphalia, which proceeded in the same manner, on common report, were also called Fehm-gerichte, which may therefore be interpreted Fame-tribunals, or such as did not, according to the old German rule, require a formal accusation, but proceeded to the investigation of the truth of any charge which common fame or general report made against any person—a dangerous mode of proceeding, no doubt, and one liable to the greatest abuse, but which the lawless state of Germany at that period, and the consequent impunity which great criminals would else have enjoyed, from the fear of them, which would have kept back accusers and witnesses, perhaps abundantly justified. It is proper to observe, however, that fem appears to be an old German word, signifying[Pg 345] condemnation; and it is far from being unlikely, after all, that the Fehm-gerichte may mean merely the tribunals of condemnation—in other words, courts for the punishment of crime, or what we should call criminal courts.
Almost every word in German and related languages that resembles the word Fehm[116] has been claimed by various writers as its true origin. In this overview of the history of the Fehm-gerichte, we don’t need to evaluate each claim: we will simply note that one of the more credible theories is the Latin word Fama, which was first suggested by Leibnitz. At the time we believe these tribunals were established, the Germans were familiar with the language of civil and ecclesiastical law; the Fehm-gerichte deviated from the traditional German legal principle of “no accuser, no judge” and, in imitation of those foreign laws[117], operated based on common fame, without a formal accusation against individuals suspected of wrongdoing. Furthermore, various tribunals outside of Westphalia that also used common report in their proceedings were also referred to as Fehm-gerichte, which can thus be interpreted as Fame-tribunals, or those that did not require a formal accusation according to the old German rule but instead investigated the truth of any claims made by common fame or general hearsay—definitely a risky approach that could lead to significant misuse but, at that time, might have been justified by the lawless state of Germany and the resulting impunity that major criminals could otherwise exploit, as fear could deter accusers and witnesses. It’s also worth noting that fem seems to be an old German word meaning[Pg 345] condemnation; thus, it’s quite possible that Fehm-gerichte simply refers to courts of condemnation—in other words, criminal courts.
The Fehm-gerichte was not the only name which these tribunals bore; they were also called Fehm-ding, the word ding[118] being, in the middle ages, equivalent to gericht, or tribunal. They were also called the Westphalian tribunals, as they could only be holden in the Red Land, or Westphalia, and only Westphalians were amenable to their jurisdiction. They were further styled free-seats (Frei-stühle, stühl also being the same as gericht), free-tribunals, &c., as only freemen were subject to them. A Frei-gericht, however, was not a convertible term with a Westphalian Fehm-gericht; the former was the genus, the latter the species. They are in the records also named Secret Tribunals, (Heimliche Gerichte), and Silent Tribunals (Stillgerichte), from the secrecy of their proceedings; Forbidden Tribunals (Verbotene Gerichte), the reason of which name is not very clear; Carolinian Tribunals, as having been, as was believed, instituted by Charles the Great; also the Free Bann, which last word was equivalent to jurisdiction. A Fehm-gericht was also termed a Heimliche Acht, and a Heimliche beschlossene Acht (secret and secret-closed tribunal); acht also being the same as gericht, or tribunal.
The Fehm-gerichte wasn't the only name for these courts; they were also called Fehm-ding, with the word ding[118] meaning, in the Middle Ages, the same as gericht, or court. They were referred to as the Westphalian tribunals, since they could only be held in the Red Land, or Westphalia, and only Westphalians were subject to their authority. They were also known as free-seats (Frei-stühle, with stühl also meaning gericht), or free-tribunals, etc., because only free men were subject to them. However, a Frei-gericht wasn't the same as a Westphalian Fehm-gericht; the former was a general term, while the latter was a specific type. In records, they are also called Secret Tribunals (Heimliche Gerichte) and Silent Tribunals (Stillgerichte) due to the secrecy of their proceedings; Forbidden Tribunals (Verbotene Gerichte), though the reason for this name isn't very clear; Carolinian Tribunals, believed to have been established by Charles the Great; and also the Free Bann, where the last word was equivalent to jurisdiction. A Fehm-gericht was also called a Heimliche Acht and a Heimliche beschlossene Acht (secret and secret-closed tribunal); acht also meaning gericht, or court.
Chapter 2.
The Tribunal-Lord—The Count—The Schöppen—The Messengers—The Public Court—The Secret Tribunal—Extent of its Jurisdiction—Places of holding the Courts—Time of holding them—Proceedings in them—Process where the criminal was caught in the fact—Inquisitorial Process.
Having traced the origin of the Fehm-gerichte and their various appellations, as far as the existing documents and other evidences admit, we are now to describe the constitution and procedure of these celebrated tribunals, and to ascertain who were the persons that composed them; whence their authority was derived; and over what classes of persons their jurisdiction extended.
Having tracked the origin of the Fehm courts and their different names, based on available documents and other evidence, we will now describe the structure and process of these well-known tribunals. We will also find out who made up these courts, where their authority came from, and the types of people they had jurisdiction over.
Even in the periods of greatest anarchy in Germany, the emperor was regarded as the fountain of all judicial power and authority, more particularly where it extended to the right of inflicting capital punishment. The Fehm-gerichte, therefore, regarded the emperor as their head, from whom they derived all the power which they possessed, and acknowledged his right to control and modify their constitution and decisions. These rights of the emperors we shall, in the sequel, describe at length.
Even during the times of most chaos in Germany, the emperor was seen as the source of all judicial power and authority, especially concerning the right to impose the death penalty. The Fehm courts, therefore, viewed the emperor as their leader, from whom they derived all the power they had, and recognized his right to oversee and change their rules and decisions. We will describe these rights of the emperors in detail later on.
Between the emperor and the Westphalian tribunal-lords (Stuhlherren), as they were styled, that is, lay and ecclesiastical territorial lords, there was no intermediate authority until the fourteenth century, when the Archbishop of Cologne was made the[Pg 347] imperial lieutenant in Westphalia. Each tribunal-lord had his peculiar district, within which he had the power of erecting-tribunals, and beyond which his authority did not extend. He either presided in person in his court, or he appointed a count (Freigraf) to supply his place. The rights of a stuhlherr[119] had some resemblance to those of the owner of an advowson in this country. He had merely the power of nominating either himself or another person as count; the right to inflict capital punishment was to be conferred by the emperor or his deputy. To this end, when a tribunal-lord presented a count for investiture, he was obliged to certify on oath that the person so presented was truly and honestly, both by father and mother, born on Westphalian soil; that he stood in no ill repute; that he knew of no open crime he had committed; and that he believed him to be perfectly well qualified to preside over the county.
Between the emperor and the Westphalian tribunal-lords (Stuhlherren), which included both secular and religious territorial lords, there was no intermediary authority until the fourteenth century, when the Archbishop of Cologne was appointed the[Pg 347] imperial representative in Westphalia. Each tribunal-lord managed a specific district where he had the authority to establish tribunals, and his power did not go beyond those borders. He either presided over his court personally or appointed a count (Freigraf) to take his place. The rights of a stuhlherr[119] were somewhat similar to those of an owner of an advowson in this country. He could nominate himself or someone else as count; however, the right to impose capital punishment had to be granted by the emperor or his deputy. When a tribunal-lord recommended a count for investiture, he had to swear that the nominee was genuinely and honestly born on Westphalian soil, that he had a good reputation, that he was not aware of any serious crimes committed, and that he believed the nominee was well qualified to lead the county.
The count, on being appointed, was to swear that he would judge truly and justly, according to the law and the regulations of the emperor Charles and the closed tribunal; that he would be obedient to the emperor or king, and his lieutenant; and that he would repair, at least once in each year, to the general chapter which was to be held on the Westphalian land, and give an account of his conduct, &c.
The count, upon being appointed, had to swear that he would judge fairly and justly, following the laws and regulations set by Emperor Charles and the closed tribunal; that he would be loyal to the emperor or king, and his lieutenant; and that he would attend the general chapter held on the Westphalian land at least once a year to report on his actions, etc.
The income of the free-count arose from fees and a share in fines; he had also a fixed allowance in money or in kind from the stuhlherr. Each free-schöppe who was admitted made him a present, to repair, as the laws express it, his countly hat. If the person admitted was a knight, this fee was a mark of gold; if not, a mark of silver. Every one of the initiated who cleared himself by oath from[Pg 348] any charge paid the count a cross-penny. He had a share of all the fines imposed in his court, and a fee on citations, &c.
The income of the free count came from fees and a portion of fines; he also received a fixed allowance in cash or goods from the stuhlherr. Every free schöppe who was admitted gave him a gift, to repair, as the laws put it, his countly hat. If the person admitted was a knight, this gift was a mark of gold; if not, it was a mark of silver. Everyone who was initiated and cleared themselves by oath from[Pg 348] any accusation paid the count a cross-penny. He received a share of all the fines imposed in his court, as well as a fee for citations, etc.
There was in general but one count to each tribunal; but instances occur of there being as many as seven or eight. The count presided in the court, and the citations of the accused proceeded from him.
There was usually only one judge for each court; however, there were cases where there were as many as seven or eight. The judge led the court, and the charges against the accused were presented by him.
Next to the count were the assessors or (Schöppen)[120]. These formed the main body and strength of the society. They were nominated by the count with the approbation of the tribunal-lord. Two persons, who were already in the society, were obliged to vouch on oath for the fitness of the candidate to be admitted. It was necessary that he should be a German by birth; born in wedlock of free parents; of the Christian religion; neither ex-communicate nor outlawed; not involved in any Fehm-gericht process; a member of no spiritual order, &c.
Next to the count were the assessors or (Schöppen)[120]. They made up the main body and strength of the society. The count nominated them with the approval of the tribunal lord. Two members already in the society had to swear an oath about the candidate's suitability for admission. It was necessary for the candidate to be a German by birth; born in wedlock to free parents; of the Christian faith; neither excommunicated nor outlawed; not involved in any Fehm-gericht process; and not a member of any religious order, etc.
These schöppen were divided into two classes, the knightly, and the simple, respectable assessors; for, as the maxim that every man should be judged by his peers prevailed universally during the middle ages, it was necessary to conform to it also in the Fehm-tribunals.
These schöppen were split into two groups: the knightly and the straightforward, respectable assessors; because the saying that every man should be judged by his peers was widely accepted during the Middle Ages, it was essential to follow this rule in the Fehm-tribunals.
Previous to their admission to a knowledge of the secrets of the society, the schöppen were named Ignorant; when they had been initiated they were called Knowing (Wissende) or Fehmenotes. It was only these last who were admitted to the[Pg 349] secret-tribunal. The initiation of a schöppe was attended with a good deal of ceremony. He appeared bare-headed before the assembled tribunal, and was there questioned respecting his qualifications. Then, kneeling down, with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand on a naked sword and a halter, he pronounced the following oath after the count:—
Before they learned the secrets of the society, the schöppen were called Ignorant; once they were initiated, they were referred to as Knowing (Wissende) or Fehmenotes. Only these last individuals were allowed to join the[Pg 349] secret tribunal. The initiation of a schöppe involved a lot of ceremony. He appeared bareheaded before the assembled tribunal and was questioned about his qualifications. Then, kneeling down with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand on a naked sword and a noose, he took the following oath after the count:—
"I promise, on the holy marriage, that I will, from henceforth, aid, keep, and conceal the holy Fehms, from wife and child, from father and mother, from sister and brother, from fire and wind, from all that the sun shines on and the rain covers, from all that is between sky and ground, especially from the man who knows the law, and will bring before this free tribunal, under which I sit, all that belongs to the secret jurisdiction of the emperor, whether I know it to be true myself, or have heard it from trustworthy people, whatever requires correction or punishment, whatever is Fehm-free (i. e. a crime committed in the county), that it may be judged, or, with the consent of the accuser, be put off in grace; and will not cease so to do, for love or for fear, for gold or for silver, or for precious stones; and will strengthen this tribunal and jurisdiction with all my five senses and power; and that I do not take on me this office for any other cause than for the sake of right and justice; moreover, that I will ever further and honour this free tribunal more than any other free tribunals; and what I thus promise will I stedfastly and firmly keep, so help me God and his Holy Gospel."
"I promise, on our sacred marriage, that I will from now on support, protect, and keep the holy Fehms secret from my wife and children, from my father and mother, from my siblings, from fire and wind, from everything the sun shines on and the rain touches, from all that exists between the sky and the ground, especially from the person who knows the law and will present to this free tribunal, where I sit, everything that falls under the secret authority of the emperor, whether I know it to be true myself or have heard it from credible sources, anything that needs correction or punishment, anything that is Fehm-free (i.e., a crime committed in the county), so it can be judged, or, with the accuser's consent, deferred with grace; and I will not stop doing this, out of love or fear, for gold or silver, or for precious stones; and I will bolster this tribunal and its authority with all my senses and strength; and that I take on this role solely for the sake of right and justice; furthermore, that I will always support and honor this free tribunal more than any other free tribunals; and what I promise in this way, I will steadfastly and firmly uphold, so help me God and his Holy Gospel."
He was further obliged to swear that he would ever, to the best of his ability, enlarge the holy empire; and that he would undertake nothing with unrighteous hand against the land and people of the stuhlherr.
He was also required to swear that he would always, to the best of his ability, expand the holy empire; and that he would not do anything unjust against the land and people of the stuhlherr.
The count then inquired of the officers of the[Pg 350] court (the Frohnboten) if the candidate had gone through all the formalities requisite to reception, and when that officer had answered in the affirmative, the count revealed to the aspirant the secrets of the tribunal, and communicated to him the secret sign by which the initiated knew one another. What this sign was is utterly unknown: some say that when they met at table they used to turn the point of their knife to themselves, and the haft away from them. Others take the letters S S G G, which were found in an old MS. at Herford, to have been the sign, and interpret them Stock Stein, Gras Grein. These are, however, the most arbitrary conjectures, without a shadow of proof. The count then was bound to enter the name of the new member in his register, and henceforth he was one of the powerful body of the initiated.
The count then asked the officers of the[Pg 350] court (the Frohnboten) if the candidate had completed all the necessary formalities for acceptance. When the officer confirmed this, the count revealed the secrets of the tribunal to the candidate and shared the secret sign that the initiates used to recognize each other. The exact nature of this sign remains unknown: some say that when they gathered at the table, they would point the tip of their knife towards themselves and the handle away from them. Others believe that the letters S S G G, found in an old manuscript at Herford, served as the sign, interpreting them as Stock Stein, Gras Grein. However, these interpretations are largely speculative and lack any solid evidence. The count then had to record the name of the new member in his register, officially making him part of the influential group of the initiated.
Princes and nobles were anxious to have their chancellors and ministers, corporate towns to have their magistrates, among the initiated. Many princes sought to be themselves members of this formidable association, and we are assured that in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries (which are the only ones of which we have any particular accounts) the number of the initiated exceeded 100,000.
Princes and nobles were eager to have their chancellors and ministers, and corporate towns wanted their magistrates to be part of the elite circle. Many princes aimed to join this powerful group themselves, and it's reported that in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries (the only ones we have detailed records for), the number of members surpassed 100,000.
The duty of the initiated was to go through the country to serve citations and to trace out and denounce evil-doers; or, if they caught them in the fact, to execute instant justice upon them. They were also the count's assessors when the tribunal sat. For that purpose seven at least were required to be present, all belonging to the county in which the court was held; those belonging to other counties might attend, but they could not act as assessors; they only formed a part of the by-standers of the court. Of these there were frequently some hundreds present.[Pg 351]
The role of the initiated was to travel across the country to deliver summonses and to identify and report wrongdoers; or, if they caught them in the act, to carry out immediate justice. They also served as the count's advisors when the court was in session. For this, at least seven had to be present, all from the county where the court was held; those from other counties could attend, but they couldn't serve as advisors; they only acted as spectators in the court. There were often several hundred of these spectators present.[Pg 351]
All the initiated of every degree might go on foot and on horseback through the country, for daring was the man who would presume to injure them, as certain death was his inevitable lot. A dreadful punishment also awaited any one of them who should forget his vow and reveal the secrets of the society; he was to be seized, a cloth bound over his eyes, his hands tied behind his back, a halter put about his neck; he was to be thrown upon his belly, his tongue pulled out behind by the nape of his neck, and he was then to be hung seven feet higher than any other felon. It is doubtful, however, if there ever was a necessity for inflicting this punishment, for Æneas Sylvius, who wrote at the time when the society had degenerated, assures us that no member had ever been induced, by any motives whatever, to betray its secrets; and he describes the initiated as grave men and lovers of right and justice. Similar language is employed concerning them by other writers of the time.
All the initiated, regardless of rank, could travel on foot or horseback throughout the land, for it took a bold man to dare harm them, as it would surely lead to his death. A terrifying punishment awaited anyone who broke his vow and revealed the society's secrets; he would be captured, a cloth placed over his eyes, his hands tied behind his back, a noose around his neck; he would be thrown on his stomach, his tongue pulled out by the nape of his neck, and then hung seven feet higher than any other criminal. However, it's questionable if this punishment was ever truly needed, for Æneas Sylvius, writing at a time when the society had declined, confirms that no member had ever been persuaded, by any means, to betray its secrets; he portrays the initiated as serious men who valued right and justice. Other writers from that era express similar sentiments about them.
Besides the count and the assessors, there were required, for the due holding a Fehm-court, the officers named Frohnboten[121], or serjeants, or messengers, and a clerk to enter the decisions in what was called the blood-book (Liber sanguinis). These were, of course, initiated, or they could not be present. It was required that the messengers should be freemen belonging to the county, and have all the qualifications of the simple schöppen. Their duty was to attend on the court when sitting, and to take care that the ignorant, against whom there was any charge, were duly cited[122].
Besides the count and the assessors, to properly hold a Fehm court, there were needed officers called Frohnboten[121], or sergeants, or messengers, and a clerk to record the decisions in what was known as the blood-book (Liber sanguinis). These individuals had to be trained, or they couldn't be present. It was required that the messengers be free men from the county and possess all the qualifications of the ordinary schöppen. Their duty was to be present at the court while it was in session and to ensure that the accused, who were uninformed, were properly summoned[122].
The count was to hold two kinds of courts, the one public, named the Open or Public Court (Offenbare Ding), to which every freeman had access; the other private, called the Secret Tribunal (Heimliche Acht), at which no one who was not initiated could venture to appear.
The count was to hold two types of courts: one public, called the Open or Public Court (Offenbare Ding), which was open to every freeman; and the other private, known as the Secret Tribunal (Heimliche Acht), where no one could attend unless they were initiated.
The former court was held at stated periods, and at least three times in each year. It was announced fourteen days previously by the messengers (Frohnboten), and every householder in the county, whether initiated or not, free or servile, was bound under a penalty of four heavy shillings, to appear at it and declare on oath what crimes he knew to have been committed in the county.
The previous court met regularly, at least three times a year. It was announced two weeks in advance by messengers (Frohnboten), and every householder in the county, whether they were members of the community or not, free or bound, had to appear or face a fine of four heavy shillings, to declare under oath any crimes they knew had been committed in the county.
When the count held the Secret Court, the clergy, who had received the tonsure and ordination, women and children, Jews and Heathens[123], and, as it would appear, the higher nobility, were exempted from its jurisdiction. The clergy were exempted, probably, from prudential motives, as it was not deemed safe to irritate the members of so powerful a body, by encroaching on their privileges; they might, however, voluntarily subject themselves to the Fehm-gerichte if they were desirous of partaking of the advantages of initiation. Women and children were exempt on account of their sex and age, and the period of infancy was extended, in the citations, to fourteen, eighteen, and sometimes twenty years of age. Jews, Heathens, and such like, were exempted on account of their unworthiness. The higher nobility were exempted (if such was really the case) in compliance with the maxim of German law that[Pg 353] each person should be judged by his peers, as it was scarcely possible that in any county there could be found a count and seven assessors of equal rank with accused persons of that class.
When the count held the Secret Court, clergy who had received tonsure and ordination, women and children, Jews and Heathens[123], and seemingly the higher nobility were excluded from its jurisdiction. The clergy were likely exempt for practical reasons, as it was not considered wise to anger such a powerful group by infringing on their rights; however, they could choose to submit themselves to the Fehm-gerichte if they wanted to enjoy the benefits of initiation. Women and children were exempt due to their gender and age, with the period of infancy extended in various references to fourteen, eighteen, and occasionally twenty years old. Jews, Heathens, and similar groups were excluded for being deemed unworthy. The higher nobility were exempted (if that was indeed the case) to adhere to the principle of German law that[Pg 353] each person should be judged by their peers, as it was unlikely that any county would have a count and seven assessors of equal status as the accused individuals of that rank.
In their original constitution the Fehm-gerichte, agreeably to the derivation of the name from Fem, condemnation, were purely criminal courts, and had no jurisdiction in civil matters. They took cognizance of all offences against the Christian faith, the holy gospel, the holy ten commandments, the public peace, and private honour—a category, however, which might easily be made to include almost every transgression and crime that could be committed. We accordingly find in the laws of the Fehm-gerichte, sacrilege, robbery, rape, murder, apostacy, treason, perjury, coining, &c., &c., enumerated; and the courts, by an astute interpretation of the law, eventually managed to make matters which had not even the most remote appearance of criminality Fehmbar, or within their jurisdiction.
In their original form, the Fehm courts, as suggested by the name derived from Fem, meaning condemnation, were strictly criminal courts and had no power over civil cases. They dealt with all offenses against the Christian faith, the holy gospel, the ten commandments, public peace, and individual honor—a broad range that could easily encompass almost any wrongdoing or crime. Therefore, we see in the laws of the Fehm courts listed offenses like sacrilege, robbery, rape, murder, apostasy, treason, perjury, counterfeiting, and so on. The courts, through clever interpretations of the law, ultimately managed to classify actions that didn’t even vaguely seem criminal as Fehmbar, or within their jurisdiction.
But all exceptions were disregarded in cases of contumacy, or of a person being taken in the actual commission of an offence. When a person, after being duly cited, even in a civil case, did not appear to answer the charge against him, he was outlawed, and his offence became fehmbar; every judge was then authorized to seize the accused, whether he belonged to his county or not; the whole force of the initiated was now directed against him, and escape was hardly possible. Here it was that the superior power of the Fehm-gerichte exhibited itself. Other courts could outlaw as well as they, but no other had the same means of putting its sentences into execution. The only remedy which remained for the accused was to offer to appear and defend his cause, or to sue to the emperor for protection. In cases where a person was caught flagranti delicto, the Westphalian[Pg 354] tribunals were competent to proceed to instant punishment.
But all exceptions were ignored in cases of defiance or when someone was caught in the act of committing an offense. When a person, after being properly notified, even in a civil case, failed to appear to respond to the charge against them, they were declared an outlaw, and their offense became fehmbar; every judge was then empowered to apprehend the accused, regardless of whether they were from his jurisdiction or not; the full force of the system was now focused on them, and escape was nearly impossible. Here, the superior authority of the Fehm-gerichte was evident. Other courts could declare someone an outlaw just like they could, but none had the same means to enforce their decisions. The only option left for the accused was to offer to show up and defend themselves or to petition the emperor for protection. In situations where someone was caught flagranti delicto, the Westphalian[Pg 354] courts were authorized to impose immediate punishment.
Those who derive their knowledge of the Fehm-gerichte from plays and romances are apt to imagine that they were always held in subterranean chambers, or in the deepest recesses of impenetrable forests, while night, by pouring her deepest gloom over them, added to their awfulness and solemnity. Here, as elsewhere, we must, however reluctantly, lend our aid to dispel the illusions of fiction. They were not held either in woods or in vaults, and rarely even under a roof. There is only one recorded instance of a Fehm-gericht being held under ground, viz., at Heinberg, under the house of John Menkin. At Paderborn indeed it was held in the town-house; there was also one held in the castle of Wulften. But the situation most frequently selected for holding a court was some place under the blue canopy of heaven, for the free German still retained the predilection of his ancestors for open space and expansion. Thus at Nordkirchen and Südkirchen (north and south church) the court was held in the churchyard; at Dortmund, in the market-place close by the town-house. But the favourite place for holding these courts was the neighbourhood of trees, as in the olden time: and we read of the tribunal at Arensberg in the orchard; of another under the hawthorn; of a third under the pear-tree; of a fourth under the linden, and so on. We also find the courts denominated simply from the trees by which they were held, such as the tribunal at the elder, that at the broad oak, &c.
Those who get their understanding of the Fehm courts from plays and stories often picture them as taking place in underground chambers or in the darkest parts of dense forests, while night added to their ominous and serious nature with its deep darkness. However, we must, albeit reluctantly, help dispel the myths created by fiction. They were not held in woods or vaults, and rarely even indoors. There’s only one documented case of a Fehm court being held underground, specifically at Heinberg, under the house of John Menkin. In Paderborn, it took place in the town hall, and there was also one in the castle of Wulften. But the most common location for these courts was outdoors under the open sky, as the free Germans still cherished their ancestors' love for open spaces. Thus, at Nordkirchen and Südkirchen (north and south church), the court was held in the churchyard; at Dortmund, in the market square near the town hall. However, the preferred setting for these courts was close to trees, reminiscent of ancient times: we hear of the tribunal at Arensberg in an orchard; another under the hawthorn; a third under the pear tree; and a fourth under the linden tree, and so on. We also find the courts simply named after the trees they were held by, such as the tribunal at the elder and the one at the broad oak, etc.
The idea of their being held at night is also utterly devoid of proof, no mention of any such practice being found in any of the remaining documents. It is much more analogous to Germanic usage to infer that, as the Public Court, and the German courts in[Pg 355] general, were held in the morning, soon after the break of day, such was also the rule with the Secret Court.
The idea that they were held at night is completely unproven, with no references to such a practice found in any of the existing documents. It's much more in line with Germanic tradition to assume that, since the Public Court and German courts in[Pg 355] generally were held in the morning, shortly after sunrise, the same rule applied to the Secret Court.
When an affair was brought before a Fehm-court, the first point to be determined was whether it was a matter of Fehm-jurisdiction. Should such prove to be the case, the accused was summoned to appear and answer the charge before the Public Court. All sorts of persons, Jews and Heathens included, might be summoned before this court, at which the uninitiated schöppen also gave attendance, and which was as public as any court in Germany. If the accused did not appear, or appeared and could not clear himself, the affair was transferred to the Secret Court. Civil matters also, which on account of a denial of satisfaction were brought before the Fehm-court, were, in like manner, in cases of extreme contumacy, transferred thither.
When a case was brought before a Fehm-court, the first thing to determine was whether it fell under Fehm jurisdiction. If it did, the accused was called to show up and respond to the charge in the Public Court. All kinds of people, including Jews and non-Christians, could be summoned to this court, which also had uninitiated schöppen in attendance and was as public as any court in Germany. If the accused didn’t show up, or showed up but couldn’t prove their innocence, the case was moved to the Secret Court. Civil cases that were brought to the Fehm-court due to a refusal of satisfaction were similarly transferred there in cases of severe defiance.
The Fehm-tribunals had three different modes of procedure, namely, that in case of the criminal being taken in the fact, the inquisitorial, and the purely accusatorial.
The Fehm tribunals had three different ways of operating: first, when the criminal was caught in the act; second, the inquisitorial method; and third, the purely accusatorial approach.
Two things were requisite in the first case; the criminal must be taken in the fact, and there must be three schöppen, at least, present to punish him. With respect to the first particular, the legal language of Saxony gave great extent to the term taken in the fact. It applied not merely to him who was seized in the instant of his committing the crime, but to him who was caught as he was running away. In cases of murder, those who were found with weapons in their hands were considered as taken in the fact; as also, in case of theft, was a person who had the key of any place in which stolen articles were found, unless he could prove that they came there without his consent or knowledge. The Fehm-law enumerated three tokens or proofs of guilt in these cases; the Habende Hand (Having Hand), or having the proof[Pg 356] in his hand; the Blickende Schein (looking appearance), such as the wound in the body of one who was slain; and the Gichtige Mund (faltering mouth), or confession of the criminal. Still, under all these circumstances, it was necessary that he should be taken immediately; for if he succeeded in making his escape, and was caught again, as he was not this time taken in the fact, he must be proceeded against before the tribunal with all the requisite formalities.
Two things were required in the first case: the criminal had to be caught in the act, and there needed to be at least three schöppen present to punish him. Regarding the first point, the legal language of Saxony greatly expanded the term caught in the act. It didn’t just apply to someone who was caught while committing the crime but also included someone who was captured while fleeing. In murder cases, anyone found with weapons in their hands was considered caught in the act; similarly, in theft cases, a person found with the key to a location where stolen items were discovered was also seen as caught in the act unless they could prove that the items were there without their consent or knowledge. The Fehm-law listed three signs or proofs of guilt in these situations: the Habende Hand (Having Hand), or having the proof[Pg 356] in hand; the Blickende Schein (looking appearance), like a wound on the body of someone who was killed; and the Gichtige Mund (faltering mouth), or the confession of the criminal. However, under all these circumstances, it was crucial that he was caught immediately; if he managed to escape and was caught again later, since he wasn't caught in the act this time, the prosecution would have to go through all the necessary legal procedures.
The second condition was, that there should be at least three initiated persons together, to entitle them to seize, try, and execute a person taken in the fact. These then were at the same time judges, accusers, witnesses, and executioners. We shall in the sequel describe their mode of procedure. It is a matter of uncertainty whether the rule of trial by peers was observed on these occasions: what is called the Arensberg Reformation of the Fehm-law positively asserts, that, in case of a person being taken flagranti delicto, birth formed no exemption, and the noble was to be tried like the commoner. The cases, however, in which three of the initiated happened to come on a criminal in the commission of the fact must have been of extremely rare occurrence.
The second condition was that there had to be at least three initiated individuals together to have the authority to seize, try, and carry out a sentence on someone caught in the act. These individuals acted as judges, accusers, witnesses, and executioners all at once. We will describe their process later. It's uncertain whether the rule of trial by peers was followed in these situations; however, what’s known as the Arensberg Reformation of the Fehm law clearly states that if someone was caught flagranti delicto, their social status didn't matter, and a noble would be tried just like a commoner. That said, the instances when three initiated individuals encountered a criminal in the act must have been extremely rare.
When a crime had been committed, and the criminal had not been taken in the fact, there remained two ways of proceeding against him, namely, the inquisitorial and the accusatorial processes. It depended on circumstances which of these should be adopted. In the case, however, of his being initiated, it was imperative that he should be proceeded against accusatorially.
When a crime was committed and the criminal wasn't caught red-handed, there were two ways to go after them: the inquisitorial process and the accusatorial process. Which one to use depended on the situation. However, if the person was being pursued, it was essential to follow the accusatorial method.
Supposing the former course to have been chosen,—which was usually done when the criminal had been taken in the fact, but had contrived to escape, or when he was a man whom common fame charged openly and distinctly with a crime,—he was not cited[Pg 357] to appear before the court or vouchsafed a hearing. He was usually denounced by one of the initiated; the court then examined into the evidence of his guilt, and if it was found sufficient he was outlawed, or, as it was called, forfehmed[124], and his name was inscribed in the blood-book. A sentence was immediately drawn out, in which all princes, lords, nobles, towns, every person, in short, especially the initiated, were called upon to lend their aid to justice. This sentence, of course, could originally have extended only to Westphalia; but the Fehm-courts gradually enlarged their claims; their pretensions were favoured by the emperors, who regarded them as a support to their authority; and it was soon required that their sentence should be obeyed all over the empire, as emanating from the imperial power.
If the first option was chosen—which usually happened when the criminal was caught in the act but managed to escape, or when he was someone publicly accused of a crime—he wasn’t summoned to appear in court or given a chance to speak. He was typically denounced by one of the insiders; the court would then look into the evidence against him, and if it was enough, he would be declared an outlaw, or as it was known, forfehmed[124], and his name would be added to the blood-book. A sentence was quickly issued, calling on all princes, lords, nobles, towns, and everyone, especially the insiders, to assist in delivering justice. Initially, this sentence would only apply within Westphalia; however, the Fehm courts gradually expanded their reach, supported by the emperors who saw them as a reinforcement of their power. Soon, it became mandatory for their sentences to be followed throughout the empire, as they were seen to originate from imperial authority.
Unhappy now was he who was forfehmed; the whole body of the initiated, that is 100,000 persons, were in pursuit of him. If those who met him were sufficient in number, they seized him at once; if they felt themselves too weak, they called on their brethren to aid, and every one of the society was bound, when thus called on by three or four of the initiated, who averred to him on oath that the man was forfehmed, to help to take him. As soon as they had seized the criminal they proceeded without a moment's delay to execution; they hung him on a tree by the road-side and not on a gallows, intimating thereby that they were entitled to exercise their office in the king's name anywhere they pleased, and without any regard to territorial jurisdiction. The halter which they employed was, agreeably to the usage of the middle ages, a withy; and they are said to have had so much practice, and to have arrived at such expertness[Pg 358] in this business, that the word Fehmen at last began to signify simply to hang, as execution has come to do in English. It is more probable, however, that this, or something very near it, was the original signification of the word from which the tribunals took their name. Should the malefactor resist, his captors were authorised to knock him down and kill him. In this case they bound the dead body to a tree, and stuck their knives beside it, to intimate that he had not been slain by robbers, but had been executed in the name of the emperor.
Unhappy now was he who was forfehmed; the entire group of initiates, which numbered 100,000 people, was after him. If those who encountered him were strong enough, they captured him immediately; if they felt outnumbered, they called for their fellow members to assist, and everyone in the society was obligated, when summoned by three or four initiates swearing that the man was forfehmed, to help capture him. Once they had seized the criminal, they moved quickly to execute him; they hung him on a tree by the roadside and not on a gallows, indicating that they had the authority to act in the king's name wherever they chose, disregarding any territorial limits. The rope they used was, according to medieval custom, a withy; and it’s said they became so skilled at this that the word Fehmen eventually came to simply mean to hang, much like execution does in English. It’s more likely, however, that this, or something very similar, was the original meaning of the word from which the tribunals derived their name. If the criminal resisted, his captors were allowed to knock him down and kill him. In that case, they tied the dead body to a tree and placed their knives beside it, signaling that he had not been killed by thieves, but had been executed in the name of the emperor.
Were the person who was forfehmed uninitiated, he had no means whatever of knowing his danger till the halter was actually about his neck; for the severe penalty which awaited any one who divulged the secrets of the Fehm-courts was such as utterly to preclude the chance of a friendly hint or warning to be on his guard. Should he, however, by any casualty, such, for instance, as making his escape from those who attempted to seize him, become aware of how he stood, he might, if he thought he could clear himself, seek the protection and aid of the Stuhlherr, or of the emperor.
If the person who was forfehmed was inexperienced, he had no way of knowing he was in danger until the noose was actually around his neck; the harsh punishment for anyone who revealed the secrets of the Fehm courts left no room for a friendly warning or heads-up. However, if he somehow managed to escape those trying to capture him and realized his situation, he could seek protection and help from the Stuhlherr or the emperor if he believed he could prove his innocence.
If any one knowingly associated with or entertained a person who was forfehmed, he became involved in his danger. It was necessary, however, to prove that he had done so knowingly—a point which was to be determined by the emperor, or by the judge of the district in which the accused resided. This rule originally had extended only to Westphalia, but the Fehm-judges afterwards assumed a right of punishing in any part of the empire the person who entertained one who was forfehmed.
If anyone knowingly associated with or entertained a person who was forfehmed, they became involved in that person's danger. However, it was necessary to prove that this association was intentional—a matter that would be determined by the emperor or by the judge of the district where the accused lived. This rule initially applied only to Westphalia, but the Fehm judges later claimed the right to punish anyone in the empire who entertained someone who was forfehmed.
Nothing can appear more harsh and unjust than this mode of procedure to those who would apply the ideas and maxims of the present to former times. But violent evils require violent remedies; and the disorganized state of Europe in general, and of Germany[Pg 359] in particular, during the middle ages, was such as almost to exceed our conception. Might it not then be argued that we ought to regard as a benefit, rather than as an evil, any institution which set some bounds to injustice and violence, by infusing into the bosom of the evil-doer a salutary fear of the consequences? When a man committed a crime he knew that there was a tribunal to judge it from which his power, however great it might be, would not avail to protect him; he knew not who were the initiated, or at what moment he might fall into their hands; his very brother might be the person who had denounced him; his intimate associates might be those who would seize and execute him. So strongly was the necessity of such a power felt in general, that several cities, such as Nuremberg, Cologne, Strasburg, and others, applied for and obtained permission from the emperors, to proceed to pass sentence of death on evil-doers even unheard, when the evidence of common fame against them was satisfactory to the majority of the town-council. Several counts also obtained similar privileges, so that there were, as we may see, Fehm-courts in other places besides Westphalia, but they were far inferior to those in power, not having a numerous body of schöppen at their devotion.
Nothing seems more harsh and unfair than this way of doing things to those who would apply today's ideas and principles to the past. But serious problems call for serious solutions; and the chaotic state of Europe in general, and Germany[Pg 359] in particular, during the Middle Ages was beyond our imagination. Could it be argued that we should see as a benefit, rather than a drawback, any system that placed some limits on injustice and violence, by instilling a healthy fear of consequences in wrongdoers? When someone committed a crime, they knew there was a court that would judge them, one from which their power, no matter how strong, wouldn’t shield them; they didn’t know who had insider knowledge or when they might be caught; even their own brother might have been the one to betray them; their closest friends could be the ones to arrest and execute them. The need for such authority was so widely recognized that several cities, like Nuremberg, Cologne, Strasbourg, and others, sought and received permission from the emperors to impose the death penalty on offenders even without a hearing, as long as the consensus of public opinion against them was convincing to the majority of the town council. Several counts also gained similar rights, creating Fehm courts in places beyond Westphalia, but these were much weaker than those in Westphalia since they did not have a large number of schöppen at their command.
It is finally to be observed that it was only when the crimes were of great magnitude, and the voice of fame loud and constant, that the inquisitorial process could be properly adopted. In cases of a minor nature the accused had a right to be heard in his own behalf. Here then the inquisitorial process had its limit: if report was not sufficiently strong and overpowering, and the matter was still dubious, the offender was to be proceeded against accusatorially. If he was one of the initiated, such was his undoubted right and privilege in all cases.
It should be noted that it was only when the crimes were significant and the public's attention was strong and persistent that the inquisitorial process could be used effectively. In less serious cases, the accused had the right to defend themselves. This shows the limits of the inquisitorial process: if the evidence wasn’t compelling enough and the situation was still uncertain, the offender would face charges in a more traditional accusatorial way. If the accused was part of the privileged group, that was their undeniable right in every case.
Chapter 3.
Accusatorial process—Persons liable to it—Mode of citation—Mode of procedure—Right of appeal.
As we have stated above, the first inquiry when a matter was brought before a Fehm-court was, did it come within its jurisdiction, and, on its being found to do so, the accused was summoned before the Public Court, and when he did not appear, or could not clear himself, the cause was transferred to the Secret Court. We shall now consider the whole procedure specially.
As we mentioned earlier, the first question when a case was presented to a Fehm court was whether it fell under its jurisdiction. If it did, the accused was called to appear before the Public Court. If they didn't show up or couldn't prove their innocence, the case was moved to the Secret Court. Now, let's look at the entire procedure in detail.
The summons was at the expense of the accuser; it was to be written on good new parchment, without any erasures, and sealed with at least seven seals, to wit, those of the count and of six assessors. The seals of the different courts were different. The summonses varied according to whether the accused was a free-count, a free-schöppe, or one of the ignorant and uninitiated, a community, a noth-schöppe, or a mere vagabond. In all cases they were to be served by schöppen. They were to have on them the name of the count, of the accuser, and of the accused, the charge, and the place where the court was to be holden. The stuhlherr was also to be previously informed of it.
The summons was to be covered by the accuser; it needed to be written on good new parchment, without any mistakes, and sealed with at least seven seals, including the count's and those of six assessors. The seals from different courts varied. The summonses differed depending on whether the accused was a free count, a free magistrate, or someone uneducated and untrained, a community member, an unfree magistrate, or just a wanderer. In all cases, they were to be delivered by magistrates. They were required to include the names of the count, the accuser, and the accused, the charges, and the location where the court would take place. The stuhlherr also needed to be informed in advance.
For a good and legal service it was requisite that two schöppen should either serve the accused personally or leave the summons openly or clandestinely at his residence, or at the place where he had taken refuge. If he did not appear to answer the charge[Pg 361] within six weeks and three days, he was again summoned by four persons. Six weeks was the least term set for appearing to this summons, and it was requisite that a piece of imperial coin should be given with it. Should he still neglect appearing, he was summoned for the third and last time by six schöppen and a count, and the term set was six weeks and three days as before.
For a valid and legal service, it was necessary for two schöppen to either serve the accused in person or leave the summons either openly or secretly at his home or wherever he was hiding. If he didn’t show up to respond to the charge[Pg 361] within six weeks and three days, he was summoned again by four people. Six weeks was the minimum time set for responding to this summons, and it was required that a piece of imperial currency be given with it. If he still failed to appear, he was summoned for the third and final time by six schöppen and a count, with the time frame set at six weeks and three days, just like before.
If the accused was not merely initiated but also a count, he was treated with corresponding respect. The first summons was served by seven schöppen, the second by fourteen and four counts, and the third by twenty-one and six counts.
If the accused wasn't just a regular member but also a count, he was treated with the appropriate respect. The first summons was delivered by seven schöppen, the second by fourteen and four counts, and the third by twenty-one and six counts.
The uninitiated, whether bond or free, did not share in the preceding advantages. The summons was served on themselves, or at their residence, by a messenger, and only once. There is some doubt as to the period set for their appearance, but it seems to have been in general the ordinary one of six weeks and three days.
The uninitiated, whether enslaved or free, did not benefit from the advantages mentioned earlier. The summons was delivered to them, either directly or at their home, by a messenger, and only once. There is some uncertainty about the time frame for their appearance, but it generally seems to be the usual one of six weeks and three days.
The summons of a town or community was usually addressed to all the male inhabitants. In general some of them were specially named in it; the Arensberg Reformation directed that the names of at least thirty persons should be inserted. The term was six weeks and three days, and those who served the summons were required to be true and upright schöppen.
The summons of a town or community was usually sent to all the male residents. Generally, some of them were specifically named in it; the Arensberg Reformation stated that at least thirty names should be included. The time frame was six weeks and three days, and those who delivered the summons were required to be true and upright schöppen.
The noth-schöppe, that is, the person who had surreptitiously become possessed of the secrets of the society, was summoned but once. The usual time was allowed him for appearing to the charge.
The noth-schöppe, meaning the person who had secretly gained access to the society's secrets, was called upon only once. He was given the usual time to come forward regarding the accusation.
Should the accused be a mere vagabond, one who had no fixed residence, the course adopted was to send, six weeks and three days before the day the court was to sit, and post up four summonses at a cross-road which faced the four cardinal points, placing[Pg 362] a piece of imperial money with each. This was esteemed good and valid service, and if the accused did not appear the court proceeded to act upon it.
Should the accused be just a drifter without a permanent home, the procedure was to send out four summonses six weeks and three days before the court date, posting them at a crossroad facing the four cardinal directions, placing[Pg 362] a piece of official currency with each. This was considered proper and valid notice, and if the accused didn’t show up, the court would move forward based on that.
Notwithstanding the privileges which the members of the society enjoyed, and the precautions which were employed to ensure their safety, and moreover the deadly vengeance likely to be taken on any one who should aggrieve them, we are not to suppose the service of a summons to appear before a Fehm-court to have been absolutely free from danger. The tyrannic and self-willed noble, when in his own strong castle, and surrounded by his dependents, might not scruple to inflict summary chastisement on the audacious men who presumed to summon him to answer for his crimes before a tribunal; the magistrates of a town also might indignantly spurn at the citation to appear before a Fehm-court, and treat its messengers as offenders. To provide against these cases it was determined that it should be considered good service when the summons was affixed by night to the gate of a town or castle, to the door of the house of the accused, or to the nearest alms-house. The schöppen employed were then to desire the watchman, or some person who was going by, to inform the accused of the summons being there, and they were to take away with them a chip cut from the gate or door, as a proof of the service for the court.
Despite the privileges enjoyed by the society's members and the precautions taken to ensure their safety, as well as the harsh retribution likely to be faced by anyone who offended them, we shouldn't assume that delivering a summons to appear before a Fehm-court was completely risk-free. A tyrannical and self-willed noble, when in his stronghold and surrounded by his followers, might not hesitate to punish the bold individuals who dared to summon him to account for his actions before a court. Town magistrates might also angrily reject a call to appear before a Fehm-court and treat its messengers as offenders. To guard against these situations, it was decided that it would be considered valid service if the summons was posted at night on the gate of a town or castle, on the door of the accused’s home, or at the nearest almshouse. The schaoppen tasked with this were then to ask the watchman or any passerby to inform the accused about the summons, and they were to take a piece of wood cut from the gate or door as proof of service for the court.
If the accused was resolved to obey the summons, he had only to repair on the appointed day to the place where the court was to be held, the summons being his protection. Those who would persuade us that the Fehm-courts were held by night in secret places say that the mode appointed for the accused to meet the court was for him to repair three-quarters of an hour before midnight to the next cross-roads, where a schöppe was always waiting for him, who bound his eyes and led him to where the court was[Pg 363] sitting. This, however, is all mere fiction; for the place where the court was to be held was expressly mentioned in every summons.
If the accused was determined to respond to the summons, all he had to do was show up on the designated day at the location where the court would be held, with the summons serving as his protection. Those who want us to believe that the Fehm courts were held at night in secret locations claim that the way for the accused to meet the court was to arrive three-quarters of an hour before midnight at the nearest crossroads, where a schöppe would always be waiting for him, blindfold him, and take him to where the court was[Pg 363] sitting. However, this is just pure fiction because the location of the court was clearly stated in every summons.
The Fehm-courts (like the German courts in general) were holden on a Tuesday[125]. If on this day the accused, or his attorney, appeared at the appointed place, and no court was holden, the summons abated or lost its force; the same was the case when admission was refused to him and his suite, a circumstance which sometimes occurred. But should he not appear to the first summons, he was fined the first time thirty shillings, the second time sixty, the third time he was forfehmed. The court had however the power of granting a further respite of six weeks and three days previous to passing this last severe sentence. This term of grace was called the King's Dag, or the Emperor Charles's Day of Grace.
The Fehm courts (like German courts in general) were held on a Tuesday[125]. If the accused or their attorney showed up at the designated location on that day and no court took place, the summons would be void; the same applied if they were denied entry, which sometimes happened. However, if they failed to appear for the first summons, they faced a fine of thirty shillings the first time, sixty the second time, and on the third time they would be forfehmed. The court did have the authority to grant an additional extension of six weeks and three days before imposing this final harsh penalty. This period of grace was known as the King's Dag, or the Emperor Charles's Day of Grace.
The plea of necessary and unavoidable absence was, however, admitted in all cases, and the Fehm-law distinctly recognised four legal impediments to appearance, namely, imprisonment, sickness, the service of God (that is, pilgrimage), and the public service. The law also justly added the following cases:—inability to cross a river for want of a bridge or a boat, or on account of a storm; the loss of his horse when the accused was riding to the court, so that he could not arrive in time; absence from the country on knightly, mercantile, or other honest occasions; and lastly, the service of his lord or master. In short, any just excuse was admitted. As long as the impediment continued in operation all proceedings against the accused were void. If the impediment arose from his being in prison, or in the public service, or that of his master, he was to notify the same by letter sealed with his seal, or else by his own oath[Pg 364] and those of two or three other persons. The other impediments above enumerated were to be sworn to by himself alone.
The reasons for unavoidable absence were accepted in all cases, and the Fehm-law clearly recognized four legal reasons for not appearing: imprisonment, illness, serving God (which means going on pilgrimage), and public service. The law also reasonably included these additional circumstances: being unable to cross a river due to a lack of a bridge or boat, or because of a storm; losing his horse while on his way to court, which prevented him from arriving on time; being out of the country for knightly, business, or other legitimate reasons; and finally, serving his lord or master. In short, any valid excuse was accepted. As long as the reason for absence was in effect, all proceedings against the accused were invalid. If the reason was due to imprisonment, public service, or service to his master, he had to inform the authorities in writing using a sealed letter, or by taking an oath himself along with two or three other witnesses. The other reasons mentioned above required him to swear to them alone.
If the accused neglected answering the two first summonses, but appeared to the third, he was required to pay the two fines for non-appearance; but if he declared himself too poor to pay them, he was obliged to place his two fore-fingers on the naked sword which lay before the court, and swear, by the death which God endured on the cross, that such was the case. It was then remitted to him, and the court proceeded to his trial.
If the accused ignored the first two summonses but showed up for the third, he had to pay the two fines for not appearing; however, if he claimed to be too poor to pay them, he had to place his two forefingers on the bare sword in front of the court and swear, by the death that God suffered on the cross, that this was true. It was then forgiven, and the court moved on to his trial.
When a Fehm-court sat the count presided; before him lay on the table a naked sword and a withy-halter; the former, says the law, signifying the cross on which Christ suffered and the rigour of the court, the latter denoting the punishment of evil-doers, whereby the wrath of God is appeased. On his right and left stood the clerks of the court, the assessors, and the audience. All were bare-headed, to signify, says the law, that they would proceed openly and fairly, punish men only for the crimes which they had committed, and cover no right with unright. They were also to have their hands uncovered to signify that they would do nothing covertly and underhand. They were to have short cloaks on their shoulders, significatory of the warm love which they should have for justice; for as the cloak covers all the other clothes and the body, so should their love cover justice. They were to wear neither weapons nor harness, that no one might feel any fear of them, and to indicate that they were under the peace of the emperor, king, or empire. Finally, they were to be free from wrath and sober, that drunkenness might not lead them to pass unrighteous judgment, for drunkenness causes much wickedness.
When a Fehm court convened, the count presided over it. On the table in front of him lay a naked sword and a withy-halter; the sword symbolizes the cross on which Christ suffered and the strictness of the court, while the withy-halter represents the punishment of wrongdoers, meant to appease God's wrath. On his right and left stood the court clerks, the assessors, and the audience. Everyone was bare-headed to signify that they would proceed openly and fairly, punishing individuals only for the crimes they had committed and cover no right with unright. Their hands were also to be uncovered to show that they would not act covertly or dishonestly. They wore short cloaks on their shoulders, symbolizing the warm love they should have for justice; for as the cloak covers all other clothing and the body, so should their love cover justice. They were not to carry weapons or armor so that no one would feel afraid of them, indicating they were under the peace of the emperor, king, or empire. Lastly, they were required to be free from anger and sober, so that drunkenness wouldn’t lead them to deliver unjust judgments, for drunkenness causes much wickedness.
If one who was not initiated was detected in the[Pg 365] assembly, his process was a brief one. He was seized without any ceremony, his hands and feet were tied together, and he was hung on the next tree. Should a noth-schöppe be caught in the assembly, a halter of oaken twigs was put about his neck, and he was thrown for nine days into a dark dungeon, at the end of which time he was brought to trial, and, if he failed in clearing himself, he was proceeded with according to law, that is, was hanged.
If someone who wasn't initiated was found in the[Pg 365] assembly, the process was quick. They were captured without any fuss, their hands and feet were tied together, and they were hanged from the nearest tree. If a noth-schöppe was caught in the assembly, a noose made of oak twigs was placed around their neck, and they were thrown into a dark dungeon for nine days. After that time, they were brought to trial, and if they couldn't prove their innocence, they were dealt with according to the law, which meant they were hanged.
The business of the day commenced, as in German courts in general, by the count asking of the messengers if it was the day and time for holding a court under the royal authority. An affirmative answer being given, the count then asked how many assessors should there be on the tribunal, and how the seat should be filled. When these questions were answered, he proclaimed the holding of the court.
The day's proceedings began, as is typical in German courts, with the count inquiring of the messengers whether it was the designated day and time for a court under royal authority. Upon receiving an affirmative response, the count then asked how many assessors should be present on the bench and how the seats should be arranged. Once these questions were addressed, he announced the court's session.
Each party was permitted to bring with him as many as thirty friends to act as witnesses and compurgators. Lest, however, they might attempt to impede the course of justice, they were required to appear unarmed. Each party had, moreover, the right of being represented by his attorney. The person so employed must be initiated; he must also be the peer of the party, and if he had been engaged on either side he could not, during any stage of the action, be employed on the other, even with the permission of the party which had just engaged him. When he presented himself before the court, his credentials were carefully examined, and if found strictly conformable to what the law had enjoined, they were declared valid. It was necessary that they should have been written on good, new, and sound parchment, without blot or erasure, and be sealed by the seals of at least two frei-schöppen.
Each party could bring up to thirty friends as witnesses and supporters. However, to prevent any interference with justice, they had to appear unarmed. Each party also had the right to have an attorney represent them. This attorney needed to be experienced and a peer of the party, and if they had represented one side, they could not be hired by the other side at any point in the process, even with permission from the party that hired them. When the attorney showed up in court, their credentials were thoroughly checked, and if they met all legal requirements, they were deemed valid. The documents had to be written on high-quality, new, and clean parchment, with no mistakes or alterations, and sealed by at least two free judges.
The attorney of a prince of the empire appeared[Pg 366] with a green cross in his right hand, and a golden penny of the empire in his left. He was also to have a glove on his right hand. If there were two attorneys, they were both to bear crosses and pence. The attorney of a simple prince bore a silver penny. The old law, which loves to give a reason for every thing, says, "By the cross they intimate that the prince whom they represent will, in case he should be found guilty, amend his conduct according to the direction of the faith which Jesus Christ preached, and be constant and true to the holy Christian faith, and obedient to the holy empire and justice."
The lawyer for a prince of the empire showed up[Pg 366] with a green cross in his right hand and a gold penny of the empire in his left. He was also supposed to wear a glove on his right hand. If there were two lawyers, they both had to carry crosses and pennies. The lawyer for a lesser prince carried a silver penny. The old law, which always likes to explain everything, states, "By the cross they indicate that the prince they represent will, if found guilty, change his ways according to the teachings of Jesus Christ, and remain faithful and true to the holy Christian faith, while being obedient to the holy empire and justice."
All the preliminaries being arranged, the trial commenced by the charge against him being made known to the accused, who was called upon for his defence. If he did not wish to defend himself in person, he was permitted to employ an advocate whom he might have brought with him. If it was a civil suit, he might, however, stay the proceedings at once by giving good security for his satisfying the claims of the plaintiff, in which case he was allowed the usual grace of six weeks and three days. He might also except to the competence of the court, or to the legality of the summons, or to anything else which would, if defective, annul the proceedings.
All the preparations being made, the trial began with the charges being presented to the accused, who was asked to present his defense. If he preferred not to defend himself personally, he could hire a lawyer he had brought with him. If it was a civil case, he could pause the proceedings immediately by providing a suitable guarantee to satisfy the plaintiff's claims, in which case he was granted the standard grace period of six weeks and three days. He could also challenge the authority of the court, the validity of the summons, or any other issue that could invalidate the proceedings if found to be faulty.
If the accused did not appear, the regular course was for the prosecutor to overswear him; that is, himself to swear by the saints to the truth of what he had stated, and six true and genuine frei-schöppen to swear that they believed him to have spoken the truth.
If the accused didn't show up, the usual process was for the prosecutor to overswear him; that is, the prosecutor would swear by the saints that what he had said was true, and six honest and trustworthy free judges would swear that they believed he was telling the truth.
The older Fehm-law made a great distinction between the initiated and the ignorant, and one very much to the advantage of the former. The accused, if initiated, was allowed to clear himself from the charge by laying his two fore-fingers on the naked sword, and swearing by the saints "that he was[Pg 367] innocent of the things and the deed which the court had mentioned to him, and which the accuser charged him with, so help him God and all the saints." He then threw a cross-penny (Kreutzer?) to the court and went his way, no one being permitted to let or hinder him. But if he was one of the uninitiated, he was not permitted to clear himself in this manner, and the truth of the fact was determined by the evidence given.
The older Fehm-law made a clear distinction between the initiated and the ignorant, heavily favoring the initiated. If the accused was initiated, he could prove his innocence by placing his two forefingers on the bare sword and swearing by the saints, "I am[Pg 367] innocent of the accusations against me, as stated by the court and brought by the accuser, so help me God and all the saints." He would then toss a cross-penny (Kreutzer?) to the court and leave without anyone being allowed to stop him. However, if he was uninitiated, he couldn't clear himself this way, and the truth of the matter was determined by the evidence presented.
It is plain, however, that such a regulation as this could properly only belong to the time when none but persons of irreproachable character were initiated. As the institution degenerated, this distinction was gradually lost sight of, and facts were determined by evidence without any regard to the rank of the accused.
It’s clear, though, that a regulation like this could only really apply when only individuals of impeccable character were initiated. As the institution declined, this distinction faded away, and decisions were made based on evidence without considering the status of the accused.
The accuser could prevent the accused from clearing himself thus easily, by offering himself and six compurgators to swear to the truth of his charge. If the accused wanted to outweigh this evidence, he was obliged to come forward with thirteen or twenty compurgators and swear to his innocence. If he could bring the last number he was acquitted, for the law did not allow it to be exceeded; but if he had but thirteen, the accuser might then overpower him by bringing forward twenty to vouch for his veracity.
The accuser could easily stop the accused from proving his innocence by presenting himself and six supporters to swear to the truth of his claim. If the accused wanted to counter this evidence, he had to gather thirteen or twenty supporters and swear to his innocence. If he could bring the larger number, he would be acquitted since the law didn’t allow more than that; however, if he only had thirteen, the accuser could overpower him by bringing twenty to confirm his honesty.
If the accuser had convicted the accused, he forthwith prayed the count to grant him a just sentence. The count never took on himself the office of finding the verdict; he always directed one of the assessors to perform it. If the assessor thought the matter too difficult for his judgment, he averred on oath that such was the case, and the court then gave the duty to another, who might free himself from the responsibility in the same manner. Should none of the[Pg 368] assessors be able to come to a decision, the matter was put off till the next court-day.
If the accuser convicted the accused, he immediately asked the count to give him a fair sentence. The count never took it upon himself to decide the verdict; he always instructed one of the assessors to handle it. If the assessor found the case too complicated for his judgment, he swore an oath that it was so, and the court then assigned the task to someone else, who could relieve himself of the responsibility in the same way. If none of the[Pg 368] assessors could reach a decision, the matter was postponed until the next court day.
But if the assessor undertook the finding of the verdict, it lay with himself whether he should do so alone, or retire to take the opinion of the other assessors and the by-standers. To give the verdict due force it must be found sitting, otherwise it might be objected to. Whether or not the assessor was bound to decide according to the majority of voices is uncertain. When the verdict had been found the assessor appeared with his colleagues before the tribunal, and delivered it to the count, who then passed sentence. What, the penalties were for different offences was a secret known only to the initiated; but, if they were of a capital nature, the halter, as was intimated by the one which lay before the count, was the instrument of punishment.
But if the assessor took on the task of deciding the verdict, it was up to him whether to do it alone or consult with the other assessors and bystanders. To give the verdict proper weight, it needed to be delivered while seated; otherwise, it could be challenged. It’s unclear if the assessor had to go with the majority opinion. Once the verdict was reached, the assessor appeared with his colleagues before the tribunal and presented it to the count, who then passed sentence. The specific penalties for various offenses were a secret known only to a select few; however, if they were serious, the noose, indicated by the one lying before the count, was the method of punishment.
Should the accused not have appeared, and been in consequence outlawed, he was forfehmed by the following awful curse: it was declared that "he should be excluded from the public peace, from all liberties and rights, and the highest un-peace, un-grace, and halter be appointed for him; that he should be cut off from all communication with any Christian people, and be cursed so that he might wither in his body, and neither become any more verdant, nor increase in any manner; that his wife should be held to be a widow, and his children orphans; that he should be without honour and without right, and given up to any one; that his neck should be left to the ravens, his body to all beasts, to the birds of the air and the fishes in the water; but his soul should be commended to God," &c., &c.
If the accused didn't show up and was subsequently declared an outlaw, he faced the following terrible curse: it was stated that "he would be excluded from the public peace, from all freedoms and rights, and the highest level of dishonor, disgrace, and a noose would be set for him; that he would be cut off from all communication with any Christian people, and be cursed so that he might wither in his body, and neither grow greener nor increase in any way; that his wife would be considered a widow, and his children orphans; that he would be without honor and without rights, left to anyone; that his neck would be left to the ravens, his body to all beasts, the birds of the air and the fish in the water; but his soul would be commended to God," etc., etc.
If he continued a year and a day under the sentence of outlawry, all his goods then fell to the[Pg 369] emperor or king. A prince, town, or community, that incurred the sentence of outlawry, lost thereby at once all liberties, privileges, and graces.
If he remained an outlaw for a year and a day, all his possessions would then belong to the[Pg 369] emperor or king. Any prince, town, or community that was declared an outlaw immediately lost all their rights, privileges, and benefits.
Should the sentence passed be a capital one, the count flung the halter over his head out of the inclosure of the tribunal, the schöppen spat on it, and the name of the condemned was entered in the blood-book. If the criminal was present he was instantly seized, and, according to the custom of the middle ages, when, as in the East, no disgrace was attached to the office of executioner, the task of executing him was committed to the youngest schöppe present, who forthwith hung him from the nearest tree. The quality of the criminal was duly attended to; for if he was initiated he was hung seven feet higher than any other, as being esteemed a greater criminal. If the accused was not present, all the schöppen were, as we have already described, set in pursuit of him, and wherever they caught him they hanged him without any further ceremony.
Should the sentence be a death sentence, the count tossed the noose over his head outside the tribunal's enclosure, the executioners spat on it, and the condemned's name was entered in the blood book. If the criminal was present, he was immediately seized, and, following the custom of the Middle Ages, when, like in the East, there was no shame in being an executioner, the job of carrying out the execution was given to the youngest executioner present, who would then hang him from the nearest tree. The status of the criminal was taken into account; if he was initiated, he was hanged seven feet higher than others, as he was considered a greater offender. If the accused was not present, all the executioners, as we have already described, were sent to catch him, and wherever they found him, they hanged him without any further ceremony.
The sentence was kept a profound secret from the uninitiated. A copy of it, drawn up in the usual form, and sealed with seven seals, was given to the accuser.
The sentence was kept a deep secret from those who didn't know. A copy of it, created in the usual way and sealed with seven seals, was given to the accuser.
We thus see that the proceedings in the Fehm-courts were strictly consonant to justice, and even leaned to the side of mercy. But this was not all: the right of appeal was also secured to the accused in case the schöppen who consulted about the verdict did not agree, or that the witnesses did not correspond in their evidence; or, finally, if the verdict found was considered unjust or unsuitable; which last case afforded a most ample field of appeal, for it must have been very rarely that a sentence did not appear unjust or over-severe to the party who was condemned. It was, however, necessary that the appeal should be made on publication of the[Pg 370] sentence, or at least before the court broke up. The parties were allowed to retire for a few minutes, to consult with their friends who had accompanied them. If they did not then say that they would appeal, the sentence was declared absolute, and they were forbidden, under heavy penalties, to oppose it in any other court. If they did resolve to appeal, both parties were obliged to give security de lite prosequenda. Should either party, being poor or a stranger, be unable to give security, his oath was held to be sufficient, that, as the law humanely and justly expresses it, "the stranger or the poor man may be able to seek his right in the Holy Roman Empire as well as the native or the rich man."
We can see that the procedures in the Fehm courts were clearly aligned with justice and even leaned towards mercy. But that wasn't all: the right to appeal was also guaranteed to the accused if the judges who discussed the verdict didn’t agree, if the witnesses didn’t match their testimonies, or if the verdict was deemed unfair or inappropriate. The last situation offered a wide range of grounds for appeal, as it was very rare for a sentence not to seem unjust or excessively harsh to the condemned party. However, it was necessary for the appeal to be made upon the announcement of the[Pg 370] sentence or at least before the court adjourned. The parties were permitted to step out for a few minutes to consult with their accompanying friends. If they didn’t state that they would appeal during that time, the sentence was declared final, and they were prohibited, under severe penalties, from contesting it in any other court. If they chose to appeal, both parties had to provide security de lite prosequenda. If either party, being poor or a foreigner, was unable to provide security, their oath was considered sufficient to ensure that, as the law humanely and justly puts it, "the foreigner or the poor man can seek their rights in the Holy Roman Empire just like the native or the wealthy."
The appeal lay to the general chapter of the Secret closed Tribunal of the Imperial Chamber, which usually, if not constantly, sat at Dortmund; or it lay to the emperor, or king, as the supreme head of these tribunals. In case of the monarch being initiated, he could examine into the cause himself; otherwise he was obliged to commit the inquiry to such of his councillors as were initiated, or to initiated commissioners, and that only on Westphalian soil. Of this species of appeal there are numerous instances. Finally, the appeal might be made to the imperial lieutenant, who then inquired into the matter himself, with the aid of some initiated schöppen, or brought it before the general chapter of which he was president. There was no appeal to the emperor from his sentence, or from that of the chapter.
The appeal was made to the general chapter of the Secret Closed Tribunal of the Imperial Chamber, which usually, if not always, met in Dortmund; or it was made to the emperor or king, as the highest authority of these tribunals. If the monarch was initiated, he could investigate the case himself; otherwise, he had to delegate the inquiry to those of his advisers who were initiated or to initiated commissioners, and that could only happen on Westphalian territory. There are many examples of this type of appeal. Finally, the appeal could also be made to the imperial lieutenant, who would investigate the matter himself, with the assistance of some initiated schöppen, or bring it before the general chapter that he led. There was no appeal to the emperor from his judgment, or from that of the chapter.
There were, besides the right of appeal, other means of averting the execution of the sentence of a Fehm-court. Such was what was called replacing in the former state, of which, however, it was only the initiated who could avail himself. Sentence having been passed on a person who had not appeared, he might voluntarily and personally repair to[Pg 371] where the secret tribunal was sitting, and sue for this favour. He was to appear before the court which had passed the sentence, accompanied by two frei-schöppen, with a halter about his neck, with white gloves on him, and his hands folded, with an imperial coin and a green cross in them. He and his companions were then to fall down on their knees, and pray for him to be placed in the condition which he was in before the proceedings commenced against him. There was also what was called the complaint of nullity, in case the prescribed form of the proceedings had been violated. Some other means shall presently be noticed.
There were, in addition to the right of appeal, other ways to avoid the execution of a Fehm-court sentence. One such method was called restoration to the former state, which only those in the know could use. If a person had been sentenced in their absence, they could voluntarily go to [Pg 371], where the secret court was meeting, and request this favor. They were to appear before the court that had issued the sentence, accompanied by two frei-schöppen, wearing a halter around their neck, white gloves, and with their hands folded, holding an imperial coin and a green cross. He and his companions would then kneel and pray for him to be restored to the situation he was in before the proceedings started against him. There was also something called a complaint of nullity if the proper procedure had not been followed. Some other methods will be mentioned shortly.
Chapter 4.
The General Chapter—Rights of the Emperor—Of his Lieutenant—Of the Stuhlherrn, or Tribunal-Lords.
To complete the sketch of the Fehm-tribunals and their proceedings, we must state the rights and powers of the general chapter and of the emperor, his lieutenant, and the tribunal-lords.
To finish the overview of the Fehm courts and their processes, we need to outline the rights and authority of the general chapter, as well as that of the emperor, his deputy, and the tribunal lords.
The general chapter was a general assembly of the Westphalian tribunal-lords, counts, and schöppen, summoned once a-year by the emperor or his lieutenant. Every count was bound by oath to appear at it. It could only be holden in Westphalia, and almost exclusively at Dortmund or Arensberg. No one could appear at it who was not initiated, not even the emperor himself. The president was the emperor, if present and initiated, otherwise the lieutenant or his substitute.
The general chapter was an assembly of the Westphalian tribunal—lords, counts, and schöppen—called once a year by the emperor or his representative. Every count had to take an oath to attend. It could only be held in Westphalia, primarily in Dortmund or Arensberg. No one could participate if they weren't initiated, not even the emperor. The president was the emperor if he was present and initiated; otherwise, it was the lieutenant or his substitute.
The business of the general chapter was to inquire into the conduct and proceedings of the different Fehm-courts. The counts were therefore to give an account of all their proceedings during the past year; to furnish a list of the names of the schöppen who had been admitted, as well as of the suits which had been commenced, with the names of the accusers, the accused, the forfehmed, &c. Such counts as had neglected their duty were deposed by the general chapter.
The purpose of the general chapter was to investigate the actions and processes of the various Fehm-courts. The counts were required to report on all their activities from the previous year; to provide a list of the names of the schöppen who had been accepted, as well as the cases that had been initiated, including the names of the accusers, the accused, the forfehmed, etc. Counts who failed to fulfill their responsibilities were removed by the general chapter.
The general chapter was, as we have above observed, a court of appeal from all the Fehm-tribunals. In matters of great importance the decrees of the[Pg 373] lower courts were, to give them greater weight, confirmed by the general chapter. It was finally at the general chapter that all regulations, laws, and reformations, concerning the Fehm-law and courts, were made.
The general chapter was, as we mentioned earlier, an appellate court for all the Fehm tribunals. In significant cases, the decisions of the[Pg 373] lower courts were affirmed by the general chapter to lend them more authority. It was ultimately at the general chapter that all rules, laws, and reforms related to Fehm law and courts were established.
The emperor, even when the imperial authority was at the lowest, was regarded in Germany as the fountain of judicial authority. The right of passing capital sentence in particular was considered to emanate either mediately or immediately from him. The Fehm-courts were conspicuous for their readiness to acknowledge him as the source of their authority, and all their decrees were pronounced in his name.
The emperor, even when the imperial power was at its weakest, was seen in Germany as the source of judicial authority. The right to impose the death penalty was thought to originate, either directly or indirectly, from him. The Fehm courts were notable for their willingness to recognize him as the basis of their authority, and all their rulings were made in his name.
As superior lord and judge of all the counts and tribunals, the emperor had a right of inspection and reformation over them. He could summon and preside in a general chapter; he might enter any court; and the presiding count was obliged to give way and allow him to preside in his stead. He had the power to make new schöppen, provided he did so on Westphalian soil. Every schöppe was moreover bound to give a true answer to the emperor when he asked whether such a one was forfehmed or not, and in what court. He could also depose disobedient counts, but only in Westphalia.
As the highest lord and judge of all the counts and courts, the emperor had the authority to oversee and change them. He could call and lead a general meeting; he had the right to enter any court, and the presiding count had to step aside and let him take charge. He could create new schöppen, as long as it was done on Westphalian territory. Every schöppe was also required to provide an honest answer to the emperor when he inquired whether someone was forfehmed or not, and in which court. He could also remove disobedient counts, but only within Westphalia.
The emperor could even withdraw a cause out of the hands of the tribunals. The right of appeal to him has been already noticed; but, besides this, he had a power of forbidding the count to proceed in the cause when the accused offered himself to him for honour and right; and it was at his own risk then that the count proceeded any further in the business. The emperor could also grant a safe-conduct to any person who might apply for it under apprehension of having been forfehmed, which safe-conduct the schöppen dared not violate. Even when[Pg 374] a person had been forfehmed, the emperor could save him by issuing his command to stay execution of the sentence for a hundred years, six weeks, and a day.
The emperor could even take a case out of the hands of the courts. The right to appeal to him has already been mentioned; but in addition to that, he had the power to stop the count from moving forward with the case when the accused came to him for honour and right; and it was at the count's own risk if he decided to proceed any further. The emperor could also issue a safe-conduct to anyone who requested it out of fear of being forfehmed, and the schöppen had to respect that safe-conduct. Even when[Pg 374] someone had been forfehmed, the emperor could save them by ordering a stay of execution for a hundred years, six weeks, and a day.
It is plain, that, to be able to exercise these rights, the emperor must be himself initiated, for otherwise he could not, for instance, appear where a court was sitting, make alterations in laws with which, if ignorant, he must necessarily be unacquainted, or extend mercy when he could not know who was forfehmed or not. In the laws establishing the rights of the emperor it was therefore always inserted, provided he be initiated, and the acts of uninitiated emperors were by the Fehm-courts frequently declared invalid. The emperor had, therefore, his choice of setting a substitute over the Fehm-courts, or of being himself initiated. The latter course was naturally preferred, and each emperor, at his coronation at Aix-la-Chapelle, was initiated by the hereditary Count of Dortmund. Though Aix-la-Chapelle was not in Westphalia, the law sanctioned this departure from the general rule that frei-schöppen should only be made in that country.
It’s clear that, in order to exercise these rights, the emperor must be properly initiated, because without that, he wouldn’t be able to, for example, show up at a court, change laws that he would be ignorant of, or grant mercy without knowing who was forfehmed or not. The laws establishing the emperor's rights always included the clause, provided he be initiated, and the actions of uninitiated emperors were often declared invalid by the Fehm courts. Therefore, the emperor had the option to appoint a substitute for the Fehm courts or to be himself initiated. Naturally, the latter was the preferred route, and each emperor was initiated by the hereditary Count of Dortmund at his coronation in Aix-la-Chapelle. Although Aix-la-Chapelle was not in Westphalia, the law allowed this exception to the usual rule that frei-schöppen should only occur in that region.
The emperor's lieutenant, who was almost always the Archbishop of Cologne, had the right of confirming such counts as were presented to him by the Tribunal-lords, and of investing them with the powers of life and death. He could also summon general chapters, and preside and exercise the other imperial rights in them. He might decide, with the aid of some schöppen, in cases of appeal to him, without bringing the affair before the general chapter; and he had the power of making schöppen at any tribunal in Westphalia, which proves that, like the emperor, he had free access to them all. Hence it is clear that he also must have been initiated.
The emperor's lieutenant, who was usually the Archbishop of Cologne, had the authority to confirm the counts presented to him by the Tribunal lords and to grant them the powers of life and death. He could also call general meetings, preside over them, and exercise other imperial rights in those gatherings. He had the ability to make decisions with the help of some schöppen in cases appealed to him, without having to bring the matter before the general meeting; and he could appoint schöppen at any tribunal in Westphalia, which shows that, like the emperor, he had unrestricted access to all of them. So, it's clear that he must have also been initiated.
The dignity and pre-eminence of the Archbishop[Pg 375] of Cologne, when this office had been conferred on him, caused a good deal of envy and jealousy among the lords of Westphalia, who had been hitherto his equals, and who considered themselves equally entitled to it with him. They never let slip an occasion of showing their feelings, and they always had their counts invested by the emperor, and not by the archbishop; nay, there are not wanting instances of their having such counts as he had invested confirmed and re-invested by the emperor.
The dignity and prominence of the Archbishop[Pg 375] of Cologne, after being appointed to the position, sparked a lot of envy and jealousy among the lords of Westphalia, who had previously been his equals and felt just as entitled to the role. They always seized every opportunity to express their feelings, ensuring that their counts were invested by the emperor, rather than the archbishop; in fact, there are instances where they had counts that he had invested confirmed and re-invested by the emperor.
There now remain only the Tribunal-Lords (Stuhl-herrn) to be considered.
There are now only the Tribunal-Lords (Stuhl-herrn) left to consider.
The Tribunal-lord was the lord of the district in which there was a Fehm-tribunal. He might himself, if initiated, become the count of it, having previously obtained the power of life and death from the emperor, or his lieutenant; or, if he did not choose to do so, he might, as we have already seen, present a count to be invested, for whose conduct he was held responsible; and, if the count appointed by him misconducted himself, the Stuhl-herr was liable to a forfeiture of his rights. He was, in consequence, permitted to exercise a right of inspection over the Fehm-courts in his territory; no schöppe could be made, no cause brought into the court, not even a summons issued, without his approbation. There even lay a kind of appeal to him from the sentence of the count; and he could also, like the emperor, withdraw certain persons and causes from his jurisdiction. But as his power did not extend beyond his own territory, the count might refer those causes in which he wished, but was prohibited, to proceed, to the courts in other territories; he might also, if he apprehended opposition from the Tribunal-lord, require him (if initiated) to be present at the proceedings.
The Tribunal-lord was the head of the area where there was a Fehm tribunal. If he was initiated, he could become the count of it after getting the authority of life and death from the emperor or his representative. Alternatively, as we've seen, he could nominate a count to be appointed, for whose actions he would be held accountable. If the appointed count acted improperly, the Stuhl-herr could lose his rights. Therefore, he had the right to oversee the Fehm courts in his area; no action could be taken, no case brought before the court, and no summons issued without his approval. There was even a kind of appeal to him from the count's decisions, and he could, like the emperor, remove certain people and cases from the count's jurisdiction. However, since his power was limited to his own territory, the count could refer cases he wanted to avoid to courts in other areas; if he expected opposition from the Tribunal-lord, he could require him (if initiated) to be present during the proceedings.
The Tribunal-lord, if uninitiated, could, like the[Pg 376] emperor in the same case, exercise these powers only by initiated deputies.
The Tribunal-lord, if not initiated, could, like the[Pg 376] emperor in the same case, only exercise these powers through initiated deputies.
The great advantage which resulted from the right of having Fehm-tribunals induced the high lords, both spiritual and temporal, to be very anxious to become possessed of this species of territorial property, and in consequence nearly all the lords in Westphalia had Fehm-tribunals. Even towns, such as Dortmund, Soëst, Münster, and Osnabrück, had these tribunals, either within their walls, or in their districts, or their neighbourhood, for it would not have been good policy in them to suffer this sort of Status in Statu, to be independent of their authority.
The significant advantage of having Fehm courts led the high lords, both religious and secular, to eagerly seek this type of territorial property. As a result, nearly all the lords in Westphalia had Fehm courts. Even towns like Dortmund, Soëst, Münster, and Osnabrück had these courts, either within their limits, in their areas, or nearby, as it wouldn’t have been wise for them to allow this kind of Status in Statu to exist independently of their control.
Chapter 5.
Fehm-courts at Celle—At Brunswick—Tribunal of the Knowing in the Tyrol—The Castle of Baden—African Purrahs.
We have now gone through the constitution and modes of procedure of the Fehm-tribunals of Westphalia, as far as the imperfect notices of them which have reached the present age permit. It remains to trace their history down to the last vestiges of them which appear. A matter of some curiosity should, however, be previously touched on, namely, how far they were peculiar to Westphalia, and what institutions resembling them may be elsewhere found.
We have now examined the constitution and procedures of the Fehm tribunals of Westphalia, based on the limited information available to us today. Next, we will follow their history until the last traces of them can be seen. However, it's worth noting how unique they were to Westphalia and what similar institutions might be found in other places.
Fehm-tribunals were, in fact, as we have already observed, not peculiar to Westphalia. In a MS. life of Duke Julius of Celle, by Francis Algermann[126], of the year 1608, we read the following description of a Fehm-court, which the author remembered to have seen holden at Celle in his youth:—
Fehm tribunals were, as we've already noted, not unique to Westphalia. In a manuscript biography of Duke Julius of Celle, written by Francis Algermann[126] in 1608, we find the following description of a Fehm court, which the author recalled witnessing in Celle during his youth:—
"When the Fehm-law[127] was to be put in operation, all the inhabitants of the district who were above twelve years of age were obliged to appear, without fail, on a heath or some large open place, and sit down on the ground. Some tables were then set in the middle of the assembly, at which the prince, his councillors, and bailiffs, took their seats. The Secret Judges then reported the delinquents and the offences; and they went round with a white wand[Pg 378] and smote the offenders on the legs. Whoever then had a bad conscience, and knew himself to be guilty of a capital offence, was permitted to stand up and to quit the country within a day and a night. He might even wait till he got the second blow. But if he was struck the third time, the executioner was at hand, a pastor gave him the sacrament, and away with him to the nearest tree.
"When the Fehm-law[127] was about to be enforced, all the residents of the area over twelve years old had to gather, without exception, in a heath or another large open space and sit on the ground. Tables were then set up in the middle of the gathering where the prince, his advisors, and bailiffs took their seats. The Secret Judges then announced the offenders and their crimes; they walked around with a white wand[Pg 378] and struck the offenders on the legs. Anyone who felt guilty and knew they had committed a serious crime was allowed to stand up and leave the country within a day and a night. They could even wait until they received a second blow. But if they were hit a third time, the executioner would be there, a pastor would give them the sacrament, and then off to the nearest tree they went."
"But if a person was struck but once or twice, that was a paternal warning to him to amend his life thenceforward. Hence it was called Jus Veniæ, because there was grace in it, which has been corrupted and made Vim-richt."
"But if someone was hit just once or twice, that was a fatherly warning for them to change their ways from then on. That’s why it was called Jus Veniæ, because it offered grace, which has been twisted and turned into Vim-richt."
There were similar courts, we are told, at places named Wölpe and Rotenwald. Here the custom was for the Secret Judges, when they knew of any one having committed an offence which fell within the Fehm-jurisdiction, to give him a private friendly warning. To this end they set, during the night, a mark on his door, and at drinking-parties they managed to have the can sent past him. If these warnings took no effect the court was held.
There were similar courts, we’re told, in places called Wölpe and Rotenwald. Here, the custom was for the Secret Judges, when they were aware of someone committing an offense that fell under Fehm jurisdiction, to give them a discreet friendly warning. To do this, they would mark the person's door at night, and at social gatherings, they would ensure the drink was passed by them. If these warnings didn’t work, the court would convene.
According to an ancient law-book, the Fehm-court at Brunswick was thus regulated and holden. Certain of the most prudent and respectable citizens, named Fehmenotes, had the secret duty of watching the conduct of their fellow-citizens and giving information of it to the council. Had so many offences been committed that it seemed time to hold a Fehm-court, a day was appointed for that purpose. Some members of the council from the different districts of the town met at midnight in St. Martin's churchyard, and then called all the council together. All the gates and entrances of the town were closed; all corners and bridges, and the boats both above and below the town, were guarded. The Fehm-clerk was then directed to begin his office, and the Fehmenotes[Pg 379] were desired to give their informations to him to be put into legal form if the time should prove sufficient.
According to an ancient law book, the Fehm court in Brunswick was organized and held in this way. A group of the most prudent and respected citizens, called Fehmenotes, had the secret responsibility of monitoring the behavior of their fellow citizens and reporting it to the council. If enough offenses were committed that it seemed necessary to hold a Fehm court, a date would be set for it. Some council members from different districts of the town would gather at midnight in St. Martin's churchyard and then call the entire council together. All the town's gates and entrances were locked; all corners, bridges, and the boats both above and below the town were secured. The Fehm clerk would then be instructed to start his duties, and the Fehmenotes[Pg 379] were asked to provide their reports to him to be formalized if time allowed.
At daybreak it was notified to the citizens that the council had resolved that the Fehm-court should be holden on this day, and they were directed to repair to the market-place as soon as the tocsin sounded.
At daybreak, the citizens were informed that the council had decided the Fehm court would take place today, and they were instructed to head to the market square as soon as the alarm sounded.
When the bell had tolled three times all who had assembled accompanied the council, through the gate of St. Peter, out of the town to what was called the Fehm-ditch. Here they separated; the council took their station on the space between the ditch and the town-gate, the citizens stood at the other side of the ditch. The Fehmenotes now mingled themselves among the townsmen, inquired after such offences as were not yet come to their knowledge, and communicated whatever information they obtained, and also their former discoveries (if they had not had time to do so in the night) to the clerk, to be put by him into proper form and laid before the council.
When the bell rang three times, everyone gathered followed the council through the St. Peter gate, out of the town to what was known as the Fehm-ditch. They then split up; the council took their position in the area between the ditch and the town gate, while the citizens stood on the other side of the ditch. The Fehmenotes then mixed in with the townspeople, asked about offenses that hadn’t been reported yet, and shared any information they gathered, along with their previous findings (if they hadn’t had a chance to do so during the night) with the clerk, so he could format it properly and present it to the council.
The clerk having delivered his protocol to the council, they examined it and ascertained which of the offences contained in it were to be brought before a Fehm-court, and which not; for matters under the value of four shillings did not belong to it. The council then handed the protocol back to the clerk, who went with it to the Fehm-court, which now took its seat in presence of a deputation of the council.
The clerk delivered his report to the council, who reviewed it and determined which offenses listed should be taken to a Fehm-court and which ones shouldn’t; incidents valued under four shillings were excluded. The council then returned the report to the clerk, who went to the Fehm-court, which was now convened in front of a delegation from the council.
Those on whom theft had been committed were first brought forward and asked if they knew the thief. If they replied in the negative, they were obliged to swear by the saints to the truth of their answer; if they named an individual, and that it was the first charge against him, he was permitted to clear himself by oath; but if there was a second charge against him, his own oath was not sufficient,[Pg 380] and he was obliged to bring six compurgators to swear along with him. Should there be a third charge, his only course was to clear himself by the ordeal. He was forthwith to wash his hand in water, and to take in it a piece of glowing-hot iron, which the beadles and executioners had always in readiness on the left of the tribunal, and to carry it a distance of nine feet. The Fehm-count, according to ancient custom, chose whom he would to find the verdict. The council could dissolve the court whenever they pleased. Such causes as had not come on, or were put off on account of sickness, or any other just impediment, were, on such occasions, noted and reserved for another session.
Those who had been victims of theft were called up first and asked if they recognized the thief. If they said no, they had to swear by the saints that their answer was true; if they named someone and it was the first accusation against that person, he could clear himself by taking an oath. However, if there was a second accusation against him, his own oath wasn't enough, and he had to bring six people to vouch for him. If there was a third accusation, his only option was to prove his innocence through an ordeal. He had to wash his hand in water and hold a piece of glowing-hot iron, which the officers and executioners kept ready on the left side of the court, and walk nine feet with it. The Fehm-count, following ancient tradition, chose who would determine the verdict. The council could adjourn the court whenever they wanted. Cases that hadn’t been heard or were postponed due to illness or other valid reasons were noted and saved for the next session.[Pg 380]
It is evident, however, that this municipal court, of which the chief object was the punishment of theft, the grand offence of the middle ages, though called a Fehm-court, was widely different from those of the same name in Westphalia.
It is clear, however, that this municipal court, whose main purpose was to punish theft, the major crime of the Middle Ages, although referred to as a Fehm-court, was quite different from those of the same name in Westphalia.
The Tribunal of the Knowing (Gericht der Wissenden), in Tyrol, has also been erroneously supposed to be the same with the Westphalian courts. The mode of procedure in this was for the accuser to lay his finger on the head of the accused, and swear that he knew him to be an infamous person, while six reputable people, laying their fingers on the arm of the accuser, swore that they knew him to have sworn truly and honestly. This was considered sufficient evidence against any person, and the court proceeded to judgment on it.
The Tribunal of the Knowing (Gericht der Wissenden) in Tyrol has also been mistakenly believed to be the same as the Westphalian courts. In this court, the procedure involved the accuser placing their finger on the head of the accused and swearing that they knew the accused to be an infamous person. Meanwhile, six reputable individuals would place their fingers on the accuser's arm and swear that they knew the accuser was telling the truth. This was seen as enough evidence against anyone, and the court would then proceed to make a judgment based on it.
The ideal Fehm-court beneath the castle of Baden must not be passed over without notice, as it seems to be the model after which our popular novelist described his Fehm-tribunal in Switzerland! A female writer in Germany[128] informs us that beneath the[Pg 381] castle of Baden the vaults extend to a considerable distance in labyrinthine windings, and were in former times appropriated to the secret mysteries of a Fehm-tribunal. Those who were brought before this awful tribunal were not conducted into the castle-vaults in the usual way; they were, lowered into the gloomy abyss by a cord in a basket, and restored to the light, if so fortunate as to be acquitted, in the same manner; so that they never could, however inclined, discover where they had been. The ordinary entrance led through a long dark passage, which was closed by a door of a single stone as large as a tombstone. This door revolved on invisible hinges, and fitted so exactly, that when it was shut the person who was inside could not distinguish it from the adjoining stones, or tell where it was that he had entered. It could only be opened on the outside by a secret spring. Proceeding along this passage you reached the torture-room, where you saw hooks in the wall, thumb-screws, and every species of instruments of torture. A door on the left opened into a recess, the place of the Maiden's Kiss. When any person who had been condemned was led hither, a stone gave way under his feet, and he fell into the arms of the Maiden, who, like the wife of Nabis, crushed him to death in her arms, which were thick set with spikes. Proceeding on farther, after passing through several doors, you came to the vault of the Tribunal. This was a long spacious quadrangle hung round with black. At the upper end was a niche in which were an altar and crucifix. In this place the chief judge sat; his assessors had their seats on wooden benches along the walls.
The ideal Fehm court beneath the castle of Baden shouldn't be overlooked, as it appears to be the inspiration for the Fehm tribunal described by our popular novelist in Switzerland. A female writer in Germany[128] tells us that beneath the[Pg 381] castle of Baden, the vaults stretch out in complex twists and turns and were once used for the secret rituals of the Fehm tribunal. Those who were brought before this terrifying tribunal were not taken through the castle vaults in the usual way; they were lowered into the dark abyss by a rope in a basket, and if they were fortunate enough to be acquitted, they were brought back to light in the same manner, never able to find out where they had been. The regular entrance was through a long dark passage, which was sealed by a massive stone door, as big as a tombstone. This door turned on hidden hinges and fit so perfectly that once shut, a person inside couldn’t tell it apart from the surrounding stones or figure out where they entered. It could only be opened from the outside with a secret spring. As you traveled down this passage, you reached the torture room, where you could see hooks on the walls, thumb screws, and all kinds of torture devices. On the left, a door led into a niche called the Maiden's Kiss. When a condemned person was led here, a stone would give way beneath their feet, and they would fall into the embrace of the Maiden, who, like Nabis's wife, would crush them to death in her arms, which were lined with spikes. Moving further along, after passing through several doors, you arrived at the vault of the Tribunal. This was a long, spacious courtyard draped in black. At the far end was a niche with an altar and crucifix. It was here that the chief judge sat, while his assessors were seated on wooden benches along the walls.
We need not to observe how totally different from the proceedings of a genuine Fehm-tribunal is all this. That there are vaults under the castle of Baden is certain, and the description above given is possibly[Pg 382] correct. But the Fehm-court which was held in them is the mere coinage of the lady's brain, and utterly unlike any thing real, unless it be the Holy Office, whose secret proceedings never could vie in justice or humanity with those of the Westphalian Fehm-courts. It is, moreover, not confirmed by any document, or even by the tradition of the place, and would be undeserving of notice were it not for the reason assigned above.
We shouldn’t overlook how completely different this is from the actions of a real Fehm tribunal. It’s definitely true that there are vaults beneath the castle of Baden, and the description provided might be[Pg 382] accurate. However, the Fehm court that supposedly took place there is just a product of the lady's imagination and bears no resemblance to anything real, unless you consider the Holy Office, whose secretive actions could never compare in fairness or humanity to those of the Westphalian Fehm courts. Additionally, there’s no confirmation from any documents or even from local tradition, and it wouldn’t be worth mentioning if not for the reason stated above.
The similarity between the Fehm-courts and the Inquisition has been often observed. In the secrecy of their proceedings, and the great number of agents which they had at their devotion, they resemble each other; but the Holy Office had nothing to correspond to the public and repeated citations of the Fehm-courts, the fair trial given to the accused, the leaning towards mercy of the judges, and the right of appeal which was secured.
The similarity between the Fehm courts and the Inquisition has often been noted. They both share secretive proceedings and a large number of agents at their disposal. However, the Holy Office lacked elements found in the Fehm courts, such as public and repeated citations, fair trials for the accused, judges who were inclined to show mercy, and the guaranteed right of appeal.
The most remarkable resemblance to the Fehm-tribunals is (or was) to be found among the negroes on the west coast of Africa, as they are described by a French traveller[129]. These are the Purrahs of the Foollahs, who dwell between Sierra Leone river and Cape Monte.
The most striking similarity to the Fehm tribunals can be found among the Black communities on the west coast of Africa, as described by a French traveler[129]. These are the Purrahs of the Foollahs, who live between the Sierra Leone River and Cape Monte.
There are five tribes of this people, who form a confederation, at the head of which is a union of warriors, which is called a Purrah. Each tribe has its own separate Purrah, and each Purrah has its chiefs and its tribunal, which is, in a more restricted sense, also called a Purrah. The general Purrah of the confederation is formed from the Purrahs of the five tribes.
There are five tribes of this people that come together as a confederation, led by a union of warriors called a Purrah. Each tribe has its own separate Purrah, and each Purrah has its chiefs and its court, which is also referred to, in a more limited sense, as a Purrah. The main Purrah of the confederation is made up of the Purrahs from the five tribes.
To be a member of the inferior Purrahs, a man must be thirty years of age; no one under fifty can have a seat in the general Purrah. The candidate[Pg 383] for admission into an inferior Purrah has to undergo a most severe course of probation, in which all the elements are employed to try him. Before he is permitted to enter on this course, such of his relatives as are already members are obliged to pledge themselves for his fitness, and to swear to take his life if ever he should betray the secrets of the society. Having passed through the ordeal, he is admitted into the society and sworn to secrecy and obedience. If he is unmindful of his oath, he becomes the child of death. When he least expects it a warrior in disguise makes his appearance and says, "The great Purrah sends thee death." Every one present departs; no one ventures to make any opposition, and the victim falls.
To be part of the lower Purrahs, a man must be at least thirty years old; no one under fifty can have a seat in the general Purrah. The candidate[Pg 383] seeking admission into a lower Purrah must go through a tough probationary period, where all kinds of challenges are used to test him. Before he can start this process, his relatives who are already members must vouch for his readiness and swear to kill him if he ever reveals the society's secrets. After successfully completing the ordeal, he is accepted into the society and bound by an oath of secrecy and obedience. If he disregards his oath, he becomes marked for death. When he least expects it, a disguised warrior appears and says, "The great Purrah sends you death." Everyone present leaves; no one dares to resist, and the victim is struck down.
The subordinate Purrahs punish all crimes committed within their district, and take care that their sentences are duly executed. They also settle disputes and quarrels between the leading families.
The subordinate Purrahs enforce all crimes committed in their area and ensure that their sentences are properly carried out. They also resolve disputes and conflicts among the prominent families.
It is only on extraordinary occasions that the great Purrah meets. It then decides on the punishment of traitors and those who had resisted its decrees. Frequently too it has to interfere to put an end to wars between the tribes. When it has met on this account it gives information to the belligerents, directing them to abstain from hostilities, and menacing death if a drop more of blood should be spilt. It then inquires into the causes of the war, and condemns the tribe which is found to have been the aggressor to a four days' plundering. The warriors to whom the execution of this sentence is committed must, however, be selected from a neutral district. They arm and disguise themselves, put horrible-looking vizards on their faces, and with pitch-torches in their hands set out by night from the place of assembly. Making no delay, they reach the devoted district before the break of day, and in parties of[Pg 384] from forty to sixty men, they fall unexpectedly on the devoted tribe, and, with fearful cries, making known the sentence of the great Purrah, proceed to put it into execution. The booty is then divided: one half is given to the injured tribe, the other falls to the great Purrah, who bestow one half of their share on the warriors who executed their sentence.
It’s only on rare occasions that the great Purrah convenes. During these meetings, it decides the fate of traitors and those who have resisted its orders. It often has to step in to end conflicts between tribes. When it gathers for this purpose, it informs the warring parties to stop fighting, threatening death if even a drop more of blood is shed. It then looks into the reasons behind the conflict and punishes the tribe found to be the aggressor with a four-day plundering. The warriors assigned to carry out this sentence must be chosen from a neutral area. They arm themselves and disguise their identities, putting on terrifying masks, and with torches in hand, set out at night from the assembly point. Without delay, they reach the targeted area before dawn, and in groups of[Pg 384] between forty and sixty men, they surprise the chosen tribe, and with chilling cries, announce the judgment of the great Purrah before executing it. The loot is then divided: half goes to the wronged tribe, and the other half goes to the great Purrah, which gives half of its share to the warriors who enforced its judgment.
Even a single family, if its power should appear to be increasing so fast as to put the society in fear for its independence, is condemned to a plundering by the Purrah. It was thus, though under more specious pretexts, that the Athenian democracy sought to reduce the power of their great citizens by condemning them to build ships, give theatrical exhibitions, and otherwise spend their fortunes.
Even a single family, if its influence seems to be growing so rapidly that it threatens the society's independence, is destined to be exploited by the Purrah. Similarly, although under more deceptive pretenses, the Athenian democracy aimed to diminish the power of their prominent citizens by forcing them to build ships, host theatrical performances, and spend their wealth in other ways.
Nothing can exceed the dread which the Purrah inspires. The people speak of it with terror and awe, and look upon the members of it as enchanters who are in compact with the devil. The Purrah itself is solicitous to diffuse this notion as much as possible, esteeming it a good mean for increasing its power and influence. The number of its members is estimated at upwards of 6000, who recognise each other by certain words and signs. Its laws and secrets are, notwithstanding the great number of the members, most religiously concealed from the knowledge of the uninitiated.
Nothing can match the fear that the Purrah creates. People talk about it with dread and respect, viewing its members as sorcerers in league with the devil. The Purrah itself works hard to spread this idea as much as possible, believing it’s a good way to boost its power and influence. The number of its members is estimated to be over 6000, and they recognize each other through specific words and signs. Its laws and secrets are, despite the large number of members, fiercely guarded from those who are not initiated.
Chapter 6.
The Emperor Lewis the Bavarian—Charles IV.—Wenceslaus—Rupertian Reformation—Encroachments of the Fehm-courts—Case of Nickel Weller and the town of Görlitz—Of the City of Dantzig—Of Hans David and the Teutonic Knights—Other instances of the presumption of the Free-counts—Citation of the Emperor Frederic III.—Case of the Count of Teckenburg.
The history of the Fehm-gerichte, previous to the fifteenth century, offers but few events to detain attention. The Emperor Lewis the Bavarian appears to have exerted his authority on several occasions in granting privileges in Westphalia according, as it is expressly stated, to the Fehm-law. His successor, the luxurious Charles IV., acted with the same caprice respecting the Fehm-tribunals as he did in every thing else, granting privileges and revoking them just as it seemed to accord with his interest at the moment. This monarch attempted also to extend the Fehm-system beyond Westphalia, deeming it perhaps a good mean for bringing all Germany under the authority of his patrimonial kingdom of Bohemia. He therefore gave permission to the Bishop of Hildesheim to erect two Free-tribunals out of Westphalia. On the representations of the Archbishop of Cologne and the lords of Westphalia, however, he afterwards abolished them.
The history of the Fehm courts before the fifteenth century has few notable events. Emperor Lewis the Bavarian seems to have used his power multiple times to grant privileges in Westphalia, specifically stating that it was according to the Fehm law. His successor, the extravagant Charles IV, was just as unpredictable with the Fehm tribunals as he was in everything else, granting and revoking privileges based on what suited his interests at the time. This king also tried to expand the Fehm system beyond Westphalia, thinking it might help him bring all of Germany under the control of his ancestral kingdom of Bohemia. He allowed the Bishop of Hildesheim to set up two Free tribunals outside of Westphalia but later revoked that permission after hearing from the Archbishop of Cologne and the lords of Westphalia.
Wenceslaus, the son of Charles, acted with his usual folly in the case of the Fehm-tribunals; he is said, as he could keep nothing secret, to have blabbed their[Pg 386] private sign, and he took on him to make frei-schöppen, contrary to the law, out of Westphalia. These schöppen of the emperor's making did not, however, meet with much respect from the genuine ones, as the answer given to the Emperor Rupert by the Westphalian tribunals evinces. On his asking how they acted with regard to such schöppen, their reply was, "We ask them at what court they were made schöppen. Should it appear that they were made schöppen at courts which had no right so to do, we hang them, in case of their being met in Westphalia, on the instant, without any mercy." Wenceslaus, little as he cared about Germany in general, occasionally employed the Fehm-courts for the furtherance of his plans, and, in the year 1389, he had Count Henry of Wernengerode tried and hanged for treason by Westphalian schöppen. The reign of Wenceslaus is particularly distinguished by its being the period in which the Archbishop of Cologne arrived at the important office of lieutenant of the emperor over all the Westphalian tribunals.
Wenceslaus, son of Charles, acted as foolishly as usual in the matter of the Fehm tribunals; it's said that he couldn't keep anything secret and ended up revealing their[Pg 386] private sign. He also made faux judges, which was against the law, in Westphalia. These judges, created by the emperor, didn't receive much respect from the genuine ones, as shown by the response given to Emperor Rupert by the Westphalian tribunals. When he asked how they treated such judges, they replied, "We ask them where they were appointed as judges. If it turns out they were appointed by courts that had no authority to do so, we hang them immediately without mercy if we find them in Westphalia." Wenceslaus, who cared little for Germany as a whole, occasionally used the Fehm courts to further his agendas. In 1389, he had Count Henry of Wernengerode tried and hanged for treason by Westphalian judges. Wenceslaus's reign is particularly noted for the Archbishop of Cologne rising to the important position of lieutenant of the emperor over all the Westphalian tribunals.
The reign of Rupert was, with respect to the Westphalian Fehm-courts, chiefly remarkable by the reformation of them named from him. This reformation, which is the earliest publicly-accredited source from which a knowledge of the Fehm-law can be derived, was made in the year 1404. It is a collection of decisions by which the rights and privileges of a king of the Romans are ascertained with respect to these tribunals.
The reign of Rupert was particularly notable for the Westphalian Fehm courts, mainly due to the reforms named after him. This reform, which is the earliest publicly recognized source for understanding Fehm law, took place in the year 1404. It's a collection of decisions that establish the rights and privileges of a king of the Romans concerning these tribunals.
The Rupertian reformation, and the establishment of the office of lieutenant in the person of the Archbishop of Cologne, which was completed by either Rupert or his successor Sigismund, form together an epoch in the history of the Fehm-gerichte. Hitherto Westphalia alone was the scene of their operations, and their authority was of evident advantage to the[Pg 387] empire. Their power had now attained its zenith; confidence in their strength led them to abuse it; and, during the century which elapsed between the Rupertian reformation and the establishment of the Perpetual Public Peace and the Imperial Chamber by the Emperor Maximilian, we shall have to contemplate chiefly their abuses and assumptions.
The Rupertian reformation, and the establishment of the office of lieutenant held by the Archbishop of Cologne, completed by either Rupert or his successor Sigismund, together mark a significant period in the history of the Fehm-gerichte. Until now, Westphalia had been the only place where they operated, and their authority was clearly beneficial to the[Pg 387] empire. Their power had now reached its peak; their confidence in their strength led to its misuse; and during the century between the Rupertian reformation and the creation of the Perpetual Public Peace and the Imperial Chamber by Emperor Maximilian, we will primarily observe their abuses and overreach.
The right of citation was what was chiefly abused by the Free-courts. Now that they were so formally acknowledged to act under the imperial authority, they began to regard Westphalia as too narrow a theatre for the display of their activity and their power. As imperial commissioners, they maintained that their jurisdiction extended to every place which acknowledged that of the emperor's, and there was hardly a corner of Germany free from the visits of their messengers; nay, even beyond the limits of the empire men trembled at their citations.
The right to issue citations was mainly abused by the Free-courts. Now that they were officially recognized to operate under imperial authority, they started to see Westphalia as too small a stage for showcasing their activities and power. As imperial commissioners, they claimed that their jurisdiction covered any place that recognized the emperor’s authority, and there was hardly a corner of Germany that wasn’t visited by their messengers; in fact, even beyond the empire's boundaries, people feared their citations.
It was chiefly the towns which were harassed by these citations, which were frequently issued at the instance of persons whom they had punished or expelled for their misdeeds. Their power and consequence did not protect even the greatest: we find, during the fifteenth century, some of the principal cities of the empire summoned before the tribunals of Westphalian counts. Thus in the records of those times we read of citations served on Bremen, Lübeck, Augsburg, Nuremberg, Erfurt, Görlitz, and Dantzig. Even Prussia and Livonia, then belonging to the order of the Teutonic knights, were annoyed by their interference.
It was mainly the towns that were troubled by these citations, which were often issued at the request of people they had punished or expelled for their wrongdoings. Their status and importance didn’t even protect the most prominent: during the fifteenth century, we see some of the key cities of the empire called before the courts of Westphalian counts. The records from that time mention citations served on Bremen, Lübeck, Augsburg, Nuremberg, Erfurt, Görlitz, and Dantzig. Even Prussia and Livonia, which were then part of the Teutonic Knights, were disturbed by their interference.
One of the most remarkable cases which this period presents is that of the uneasiness caused to the town of Görlitz by means of one of its inhabitants named Nickel Weller. This man, who was a Westphalian schöppe, was accused of having disinterred an unchristened child, and of having made[Pg 388] a candle of the bone of its arm, which he had filled with the wax of an Easter-taper and with incense, and of having employed it in a barn in presence of his mother, his wife, and an old peasant, for magical purposes. As he could not deny the fact, he was, according to the law of those times, liable to be hanged; but the high-bailiff of Stein, and some other persons of consequence, interfering in his favour, the magistrates contented themselves with expelling him from the town and confiscating his goods. As it afterwards proved, they would have acted more wisely had they condemned him to perpetual imprisonment.
One of the most notable cases from this time is the situation in Görlitz involving one of its residents named Nickel Weller. This man, a Westphalian magistrate, was accused of exhuming an unbaptized child and making[Pg 388] a candle from the bone of its arm, which he filled with wax from an Easter candle and incense, using it in a barn in front of his mother, his wife, and an old farmer for magical purposes. Since he couldn't deny the charges, he was, according to the law of that time, facing execution; however, the high bailiff of Stein and a few other influential people intervened on his behalf, so the magistrates settled for expelling him from the town and seizing his property. As it turned out, they would have been wiser to imprison him for life.
Weller immediately repaired to Bresslau, and besought the council, the Bishop of Waradein, and the imperial chancellor, to advocate his cause. They acceded to his desire; but the magistrates of Görlitz perfectly justified their conduct. Weller, still indisposed to rest, applied to the pope, Innocent VIII., asserting that he could not to any purpose bring an accusation against the council of Görlitz within the town of the diocese of Meissen, and that he had no chance of justice there. The pope forthwith named John de' Medici and Dr. Nicholas Tauchen of Bresslau spiritual commissioners in this affair, and these desired the high-bailiff of Stein to do his best that Weller should recover his rights within the space of a month, on his taking his oath to the truth of his statements, otherwise they should be obliged themselves to take measures for that purpose.
Weller quickly went to Bresslau and asked the council, the Bishop of Waradein, and the imperial chancellor to support his case. They agreed to help him; however, the magistrates of Görlitz justified their actions completely. Weller, still unwilling to rest, reached out to Pope Innocent VIII., claiming that he couldn't effectively bring charges against the council of Görlitz within the diocese of Meissen and that he had no hope of getting justice there. The pope immediately appointed John de' Medici and Dr. Nicholas Tauchen of Bresslau as spiritual commissioners for this matter, and they instructed the high-bailiff of Stein to do his best to ensure Weller regained his rights within a month, provided he swore to the truth of his claims; otherwise, they would have to take action themselves.
From some unassigned cause, however, nothing came of this, and Weller once more addressed himself to the pope, with whom the Bishop of Ostia became his advocate. He was re-admitted into the bosom of the Church; but the decree of the magistracy of Görlitz still remained in force, and the new commissioners appointed by the pope even confirmed it.
From some unknown reason, nothing came of this, and Weller once again spoke to the pope, with the Bishop of Ostia supporting him. He was readmitted into the Church; however, the decree from the magistracy of Görlitz was still in effect, and the new commissioners appointed by the pope even upheld it.
Finding that he had nothing to expect from papal[Pg 389] interference, Weller had at last recourse to the Fehm-tribunals, and on the 3d May, 1490, John of Hulschede, count of the tribunal at Brackel, cited the burgomasters, council, and all the lay inhabitants of Görlitz above the age of eighteen years, before his tribunal. This summons was served in rather a remarkable manner, for it was found fastened to a twig on a hedge, on a farm belonging to a man named Wenzel Emmerich, a little distance from the town.
Finding that he had nothing to expect from papal[Pg 389] interference, Weller finally turned to the Fehm tribunals, and on May 3, 1490, John of Hulschede, the head of the tribunal at Brackel, summoned the mayors, the council, and all the local residents of Görlitz over the age of eighteen to appear before him. This summons was delivered in quite an unusual way—it was found attached to a twig on a hedge at a farm owned by a man named Wenzel Emmerich, not far from the town.
As by the Golden Bull of the Emperor Charles IV., and moreover by a special privilege granted by Sigismund, Görlitz was exempted from all foreign jurisdiction, the magistracy informed Vladislaus, King of Bohemia, of this citation, and implored his mediation. The Bohemian monarch accordingly addressed himself to the tribunal at Brackel, but George Hackenberg, who was at that time the free-count of that court, Hulschede being dead, did not even deign to give him an answer.
As per the Golden Bull of Emperor Charles IV, and a special privilege granted by Sigismund, Görlitz was exempt from all foreign authority. The magistracy informed Vladislaus, King of Bohemia, about this citation and asked for his help. The Bohemian king then reached out to the court at Brackel, but George Hackenberg, who was the free-count at that time, didn't even bother to respond to him.
Meanwhile the appointed period had elapsed without the people of Görlitz having appeared to the summons, and Weller, charging them with disobedience and contempt of court, prayed that they might be condemned in all the costs and penalties thereby incurred, and that he might be himself permitted to proceed with his complaint. To this end he estimated the losses and injuries which he had sustained at 500 Rhenish florins, and made a declaration to that effect on oath, with two joint-swearers. He was accordingly authorised by the court to indemnify himself in any manner he could at the expense of the people of Görlitz. It was farther added that, if any one should impede Weller in the prosecution of his rights, that person should ipso facto fall under the heavy displeasure of the empire and the pains and penalties of the tribunal at Brackel, and be moreover obliged to pay all the costs of the accuser.[Pg 390]
Meanwhile, the appointed time had passed without the people of Görlitz showing up in response to the summons. Weller, accusing them of disobeying and disrespecting the court, requested that they be held responsible for all costs and penalties incurred, and that he be allowed to continue with his complaint. To support this, he estimated the losses and damages he had suffered at 500 Rhenish florins and made a declaration to that effect under oath, along with two others who swore the same. The court thus authorized him to recover his losses in any way possible at the expense of the people of Görlitz. It was also stated that if anyone tried to obstruct Weller in asserting his rights, that person would automatically face the serious displeasure of the empire and the penalties of the tribunal in Brackel, as well as being required to cover all the costs of the accuser.[Pg 390]
On the 16th August of the same year, the count set a new peremptory term for the people of Görlitz, assuring them that, in case of disobedience, "he should be obliged, though greatly against his inclination, to pass the heaviest and most rigorous sentence on their persons, their lives, and their honour." The citation was this time found on the floor of the convent church. The council in consternation applied to the Archbishop of Cologne and to the free-count himself, to be relieved from this condition, but in vain; the count did not condescend to take any notice of their application, and when they did not appear at the set time, declared the town of Görlitz outlawed for contumacy.
On August 16th of that year, the count established a new non-negotiable deadline for the people of Görlitz, warning them that if they did not comply, "he would have to, although very reluctantly, impose the harshest and most severe punishment on their persons, their lives, and their honor." This notice was discovered this time on the floor of the convent church. The council, in panic, reached out to the Archbishop of Cologne and the count himself to be released from this demand, but to no avail; the count ignored their request, and when they failed to appear at the specified time, he declared the town of Görlitz outlawed for defiance.
It appears that Weller had, for some cause or other, brought an accusation against the city of Bresslau also; for in the published decree of outlawry against Görlitz it was included. By this act it was prohibited to every person, under penalty of similar outlawry, to harbour any inhabitant of either of these towns; to eat or drink, or hold any intercourse with them, till they had reconciled themselves to the Fehm-tribunals, and given satisfaction to the complainant. Weller himself stuck up a copy of this decree on a market-day at Leipzig; but it was instantly torn down by some of the people of Görlitz who happened to be there.
It seems that Weller had, for some reason, accused the city of Bresslau too; as it was included in the official decree of outlawry against Görlitz. This decree forbade anyone, under threat of being declared an outlaw themselves, from sheltering any resident of either town, eating or drinking with them, or having any contact until they had settled their issues with the Fehm tribunals and satisfied the complainant. Weller himself posted a copy of this decree on a market day in Leipzig, but it was quickly torn down by some residents of Görlitz who were present.
The two towns of Görlitz and Bresslau held a consultation at Liegnitz, to devise what measures it were best to adopt in order to relieve themselves from this system of persecution. They resolved that they would jointly and separately defend themselves and their proceedings by a public declaration, which should be posted up in Görlitz, Bresslau, Leipzig, and other places. They also resolved to lay their griefs before the Diet at Prague, and pray for its intercession with the Archbishop of Cologne and the Landgraf[Pg 391] of Hessen. They accordingly did so, and the Diet assented to their desire; but their good offices were of no avail, and the answer of the landgraf clearly showed, either that he had no authority over his count, or that he was secretly pleased with what he had done.
The towns of Görlitz and Bresslau held a meeting in Liegnitz to discuss the best way to free themselves from this system of persecution. They decided that they would defend themselves and their actions together and independently through a public statement, which would be posted in Görlitz, Bresslau, Leipzig, and other areas. They also chose to present their grievances to the Diet in Prague and ask for its help with the Archbishop of Cologne and the Landgraf[Pg 391] of Hessen. They followed through on this plan, and the Diet agreed to their request; however, their efforts didn’t help, and the landgraf’s response clearly indicated that either he had no power over his count or that he was secretly pleased with the situation.
The indefatigable Weller now endeavoured to seize some of the people of Bresslau and Görlitz, in Hein and other places in Meissen. But they frustrated his plans by obtaining a promise of protection and safe-conduct from the Duke George. Weller, however, did not desist, and when Duke Albert came from the Netherlands to Meissen, he sought and obtained his protection. But here again he was foiled; for, when the high-bailiff and council of Görlitz had informed that prince of the real state of the case, he withdrew his countenance from him. Wearied out by this ceaseless teasing, the towns applied, through the king of Bohemia, to the Emperor Frederic III. for a mandate to all the subjects of the empire, and an inhibition to the tribunal at Brackel and all the free-counts and schöppen. These, when obtained, they took care to have secretly served on the council of Dortmund and the free-count of Brackel. By these means they appear to have put an end to their annoyances for the remainder of Weller's life. But, in the year 1502, his son and his son-in-law revived his claims on Görlitz. Count Ernest of Hohenstein interceded for them; but the council adhered firmly to their previous resolution, and declared that it was only to their own or to higher tribunals that they must look for relief. The matter then lay over for ten years, when it was again stirred by one Guy of Taubenheim, and was eventually settled by an amicable arrangement.
The tireless Weller now tried to capture some people from Bresslau and Görlitz, as well as from Hein and other places in Meissen. However, they thwarted his plans by getting a promise of protection and safe passage from Duke George. Weller didn't give up, and when Duke Albert came from the Netherlands to Meissen, he sought and received his protection. But once again, he was blocked; when the high bailiff and council of Görlitz informed the duke about the true situation, he withdrew his support. Exhausted by this constant harassment, the towns appealed to the Emperor Frederic III. through the King of Bohemia for a mandate prohibiting all the subjects of the empire and halting the tribunal at Brackel and all the free counts and schöppen. Once they received these, they made sure to serve them secretly to the council of Dortmund and the free count of Brackel. This seems to have put an end to their troubles for the rest of Weller's life. However, in 1502, his son and son-in-law revived his claims on Görlitz. Count Ernest of Hohenstein advocated for them, but the council remained firm in their previous decision, stating that they could only seek relief from their own court or higher tribunals. The issue then sat for ten years until it was brought up again by a guy named Guy of Taubenheim, and was eventually resolved through an amicable agreement.
As we have said, the Fehm-tribunals extended their claims of jurisdiction even to the Baltic. We[Pg 392] find that a citizen of the town of Dantzig, named Hans Holloger, who was a free schöppe, was cited to appear before the tribunal of Elleringhausen, under the hawthorn, "because he had spoken what he ought not to have spoken about the Secret Tribunal." This might seem just enough, as he belonged to the society; but the town-council were commanded, under a penalty of fifty pounds of fine gold, to cast the accused into prison till he had given security for standing his trial.
As we mentioned, the Fehm tribunals expanded their claims of authority even to the Baltic. We[Pg 392] find that a citizen of the town of Dantzig, named Hans Holloger, who was a free schöppe, was summoned to appear before the tribunal of Elleringhausen, under the hawthorn, "because he had said things he shouldn't have said about the Secret Tribunal." This may seem fair enough since he was part of the society; however, the town council was ordered, under a penalty of fifty pounds of fine gold, to throw the accused into prison until he provided security for standing trial.
Even the powerful order of the Teutonic Knights, who were the masters of Prussia and Livonia, did not escape being annoyed by the Fehm-tribunals. How little their power availed against that formidable jurisdiction is evinced by the answer made by the Grand Master to the towns which sued to him for protection. "Beloved liegemen! you have besought us to protect you therefrom; we would cheerfully do it knew we but ways and means thereto." And when he wrote to Mangolt, the count of the tribunal at Freyenhagen, warning him against summoning before him the subjects of the order, the latter haughtily replied, "You have your rights from the empire, and I have power to judge over all who hold of the empire."
Even the powerful order of the Teutonic Knights, who ruled over Prussia and Livonia, couldn’t escape being bothered by the Fehm tribunals. The extent of their power against that strong authority is shown in the response the Grand Master gave to the towns that sought his protection. "Dear loyal subjects! You have asked us to shield you from this; we would gladly do so if only we had the means." And when he wrote to Mangolt, the count of the tribunal at Freyenhagen, warning him against bringing the order's subjects before him, the latter arrogantly replied, "You have your rights from the empire, and I have the authority to judge all who are under the empire."
The following very curious case occurred in the first half of the fifteenth century:—
The following very curious case happened in the first half of the fifteenth century:—
A shopkeeper at Liebstadt died very much indebted to the two officers of the Teutonic order, whose business it was to keep the small towns in Prussia supplied with mercantile goods, and they accordingly seized on the effects which he had left behind him. These, however, were not sufficient to satisfy even the demands of one of them, much less of both, and they had made up their minds to rest content with the loss, when, to their surprise, Hans David, the son of the deceased, came forward with[Pg 393] an account against the order of such amount, that, as it was observed, if all the houses in the town were sold, and all the townsmen taxed to the utmost, the produce would not discharge the one-half of it. He however produced a document purporting to be a bond of the order. This instrument bore all the marks of falsification; it was full of erasures and insertions; among the witnesses to it, some were set down as priors who were only simple brethren of the order; there were the names of others who had never seen it; it was asserted to have been attested and verified by the tribunal at Passnar, but in the records of that court there were not the slightest traces of it; the seal of the Grand Master, which was appended to every document of any importance, was wanting. Of course payment was resisted, but Hans David was told to pursue his claim, if he pleased, before the emperor and the pope, whom the order recognised as their superiors.
A shopkeeper in Liebstadt died deeply in debt to two officers of the Teutonic order, whose job was to supply the small towns in Prussia with goods. They seized the belongings he left behind, but those weren’t enough to cover even one of their debts, let alone both. Just as they were about to accept their loss, Hans David, the deceased’s son, stepped forward with[Pg 393] a claim against the order for such a huge amount that, as noted, even if every house in the town was sold and every townsman was taxed to the limit, it wouldn’t cover half of it. He presented a document claiming to be a bond from the order. This document showed clear signs of forgery; it was filled with erasures and changes. Some witnesses listed were priors who were actually just regular members of the order; others’ names were included despite having never seen it. It was claimed to have been authenticated by the tribunal at Passnar, but there were no records of it there. The seal of the Grand Master, which was attached to all important documents, was missing. Naturally, they refused to pay, but Hans David was advised to pursue his claim before the emperor and the pope, who the order recognized as their superiors.
As Hans David was under the protection of the king of Poland, he had recourse to that prince; but he declined interfering any farther than to apply for a safe-conduct for him that he might apply for a new inquiry. The Grand Master, on application being made to him, swore on his honour that he owed to the complainant nothing, and that the bond was a forgery; he moreover promised to answer the charge in any fit place that the complainant might select; nay, even in Prussia, and he granted him a safe-conduct as before.
As Hans David was under the king of Poland's protection, he turned to that prince for help; however, the king only agreed to request a safe-conduct for him so he could seek a new investigation. When the Grand Master was approached, he swore on his honor that he owed nothing to the complainant and that the bond was a forgery. He also promised to address the accusation in any appropriate location the complainant chose, even in Prussia, and granted him a safe-conduct as before.
It is not known what course Hans David now adopted; but nine years afterwards (1441) we find him addressing himself to the Free-tribunal at Freyenhagen, whose count, the notorious Mangolt, forthwith issued his citations, "because, as he expressed himself, the order judges with the sword and gentle murder and burning." The Grand[Pg 394] Master, indignant at this piece of arrogance, immediately brought the matter before the assembly of the free-counts at Coblentz, who declared the proceedings null, and Mangolt liable to punishment, as the knights were spiritual persons. He moreover applied to the emperor, who, to gratify him, issued a mandate, addressed to all princes of the empire, declaring the act of Mangolt to be a piece of iniquity, and null and void.
It’s unclear what path Hans David took at that point; however, nine years later (1441), he found himself turning to the Free Tribunal at Freyhangen, where the infamous Count Mangolt quickly issued his summons, stating that the order judges with "the sword and gentle murder and burning." The Grand[Pg 394] Master, outraged by this arrogance, immediately brought the issue before the assembly of the free-counts in Coblentz, who declared the proceedings invalid and stated that Mangolt should be punished since the knights were spiritual figures. He also appealed to the emperor, who, to placate him, issued a directive to all princes of the empire, declaring Mangolt's actions to be unjust, as well as null and void.
Hans David was now cast into prison at Cologne, and, notwithstanding a prohibition of the Free-tribunal, was detained there for two years. Existing documents attest (though the fact is inexplicable) that the emperor directed the Archbishop of Cologne and the Margraf of Baden to examine anew into the affair, and to send the acts into the imperial chancery, and, finally, to set the complainant free on his oath, or on his giving bail to appear at Nuremberg. As this proceeding can only be ascribed to the influence of the Secret Tribunals, bent on annoying the order, it serves to show what their power and consequence must have been at that time.
Hans David was now imprisoned in Cologne, and despite a ban from the Free Tribunal, he was held there for two years. Existing documents confirm (though it's hard to understand) that the emperor instructed the Archbishop of Cologne and the Margrave of Baden to re-examine the case and send the records to the imperial chancery, and finally to release the complainant either on his oath or by allowing him to post bail to appear in Nuremberg. This action can only be attributed to the influence of the Secret Tribunals, which sought to trouble the order, showing just how much power and importance they must have had at that time.
Two years afterwards it was clearly proved at Vienna that the bond had been forged, at the desire of Hans David, by a scholar of Elbingen, named Rothofé. As the case against the former was now so plain, it might be supposed that he would be punished at once. Instead of that, the emperor referred the parties to the pope, as Hans David had struck a prior of the order, and this last was not content with the satisfaction accorded by the emperor.
Two years later, it was clearly established in Vienna that the bond had been forged at the request of Hans David by a scholar from Elbingen named Rothofé. Since the case against Hans David was now so clear, one would expect him to be punished immediately. Instead, the emperor referred the matter to the pope because Hans David had attacked a prior of the order, and the prior was not satisfied with the resolution offered by the emperor.
The cause of the order was triumphant in Rome also, yet still Hans David found means to keep off the execution of the sentence already passed on him at Vienna. It was not till after the death of the then Grand Master that final judgment was formally delivered by Cardinal Jossi, and Hans David, his comrade[Pg 395] Paul Frankleuen, and the Count Mangolt, were condemned to perpetual silence, and to payment of the sum of 6,000 Rhenish florins to the order, and, in case of disobedience, they were declared to be outlawed. All this, however, did not yet avail, and two years afterwards Jossi was obliged to apply to the emperor for the aid of the temporal arm for the execution of the sentence. The chaplain of the order at Vienna also found that Hans David had still the art to deceive many and gain them over to his cause, and he accordingly took care to have the whole account of his conduct posted up on the church-doors.
The reason for the order was celebrated in Rome as well, yet Hans David still managed to delay the execution of the sentence that had already been passed on him in Vienna. It wasn't until after the death of the then Grand Master that Cardinal Jossi formally delivered the final judgment, condemning Hans David, his comrade[Pg 395] Paul Frankleuen, and Count Mangolt to permanent silence and a fine of 6,000 Rhenish florins to the order. If they disobeyed, they would be declared outlaws. However, this still didn't resolve the situation, and two years later, Jossi had to ask the emperor for military assistance to enforce the sentence. The order's chaplain in Vienna also discovered that Hans David still had the ability to deceive many and win them over to his side, so he made sure to have the full account of Hans David's actions posted on the church doors.
Still the unwearied Hans David did not rest. He now went to the Free-tribunal at Waldeck, and had the art to deceive the count by his false representations. He assured him that the order had offered him no less than 15,000 florins and an annuity, if he would let his action drop; that they would have been extremely well content if he had escaped out of prison at Cologne, but that he preferred justice and truth to liberty. The order however succeeded here again in detecting and exposing his arts, and the count honestly confessed that he had been deceived by him. He cast him off forthwith, and Hans David, ceasing to annoy the order, devoted himself to astrology and conjuring for the rest of his days[130].
Still, the relentless Hans David didn’t rest. He went to the Free Tribunal at Waldeck and managed to trick the count with his false claims. He told him that the order had offered him no less than 15,000 florins and an annuity if he agreed to drop his case; that they would have been perfectly happy if he had escaped from prison in Cologne, but he preferred justice and truth over freedom. However, the order once again succeeded in uncovering and exposing his schemes, and the count honestly admitted that he had been fooled by him. He immediately dismissed him, and Hans David, no longer bothering the order, spent the rest of his days practicing astrology and conjuring.[130]
He had, however, caused the order abundance of[Pg 396] uneasiness and expense. Existing documents prove that this affair cost them no less than upwards of 1580 ducats, and 7000 florins, which must be in a great measure ascribed to the secret machinations of the Free-tribunals, anxious to depress the Teutonic Knights, who stood in their way.
He had, however, created a lot of discomfort and expense regarding the order of[Pg 396]. Existing documents show that this matter cost them at least over 1580 ducats and 7000 florins, which can largely be attributed to the secret plots of the Free-tribunals, who were eager to undermine the Teutonic Knights, who were an obstacle for them.
In 1410 the Wild and Rhein Graf was summoned before the tribunal at Nordernau, and, in 1454, the Duke of Saxony before that at Limburg. The Elector-Palatine found it difficult, in 1448, to defend himself against a sentence passed on him by one of the Fehm-courts. Duke Henry of Bavaria found it necessary, on the following occasion, actually to become a frei-schöppe in order to save himself. One Gaspar, of Torringen, had accused him before the tribunal of Waldeck of "having taken from him his hereditary office of Chief Huntsman; of having seized and beaten his huntsmen and servants, taken his hounds, battered down his castle of Torringen, and taken from his wife her property and jewels, in despite of God, honour, and ancient right." The free-count forthwith cited the duke, who applied to the emperor Sigismund, and procured an inhibition to the count. The duke found it necessary, notwithstanding, to appear before the court; but he adopted the expedient of getting himself made a frei-schöppe, and then, probably in consequence of his rank and influence, procured a sentence to be passed in accordance with his wishes. Gaspar, who was probably an injured man, appealed to the emperor, who referred the matter to the Archbishop of Cologne, and we are not informed how it ended.
In 1410, the Wild and Rhein Graf was called before the tribunal at Nordernau, and in 1454, the Duke of Saxony was summoned to the one at Limburg. The Elector-Palatine struggled in 1448 to defend himself against a ruling made by one of the Fehm courts. Duke Henry of Bavaria found it necessary, on a later occasion, to actually become a frei-schöppe to protect himself. A man named Gaspar from Torringen accused him before the tribunal of Waldeck of "having taken his hereditary office as Chief Huntsman; of having seized and beaten his huntsmen and servants, taken his hounds, destroyed his castle of Torringen, and taken his wife's property and jewels, against God, honor, and ancient rights." The free-count immediately summoned the duke, who appealed to Emperor Sigismund and obtained a stay against the count. Despite this, the duke felt it necessary to appear before the court; however, he got himself appointed as a frei-schöppe and, likely due to his rank and influence, managed to get a ruling in his favor. Gaspar, who was likely wronged, appealed to the emperor, who referred the case to the Archbishop of Cologne, but we don’t know how it concluded.
But the audacity of the free-counts went so far as even to cite the head of the empire himself before their tribunals. The imperial chancery having, for just and good cause, declared several free-counts and their Tribunal-lord, Walrabe of Waldeck, to be[Pg 397] outlawed, three free-counts had the hardihood, in 1470, to cite the emperor Frederic III., with his chancellor, the Bishop of Passau, and the assessors of the chancery-court, to appear before the free-tribunal between the gates of Wünnenberg in the diocese of Paderborn, "there to defend his person and highest honour under penalty of being held to be a disobedient emperor;" and on his not appearing, they had the impudence to cite him again, declaring that, if he did not appear, justice should take its course. Feeble, however, as was the character of the emperor, he did not give way to such assumptions.
But the boldness of the free counts went so far as to even summon the head of the empire before their courts. The imperial chancery, having justly declared several free counts and their Tribunal-lord, Walrabe of Waldeck, to be [Pg 397] outlaws, three free counts had the audacity, in 1470, to summon Emperor Frederic III., along with his chancellor, the Bishop of Passau, and the assessors of the chancery court, to appear before the free tribunal between the gates of Wünnenberg in the diocese of Paderborn, "to defend his person and highest honor under the threat of being considered a disobedient emperor;" and if he failed to appear, they had the nerve to summon him again, declaring that if he didn’t show up, justice would take its course. However, despite the emperor's weak character, he did not yield to such demands.
Even robbery and spoliation could find a defence with the Fehm-courts. Towards the end of the thirteenth century a count of Teckenburg plundered and ravaged the diocese of Münster. The bishop assembled his own people and called on his allies to aid him, and they took two castles belonging to the count and pushed him to extremity. To extricate himself he accused the bishop, and all those who were with him, before his Fehm-court, and though there were among them the Bishop of Paderborn, three counts, and several knights, the free-count had the boldness to cite them all to appear and defend their honour. The affair was eventually amicably arranged and the citation recalled.
Even robbery and looting could find a justification in the Fehm courts. Near the end of the 13th century, a count from Teckenburg plundered and devastated the diocese of Münster. The bishop gathered his followers and called on his allies for help, and they captured two castles belonging to the count, putting him in a tight spot. To get out of this situation, he accused the bishop and all his supporters in front of his Fehm court, and even though among them were the Bishop of Paderborn, three counts, and several knights, the free-count had the audacity to summon them all to appear and defend their honor. In the end, the matter was settled amicably and the summons was withdrawn.
These instances may suffice to show how far the Fehm-tribunals had departed from the original object of their institution, and how corrupt and iniquitous they were become.
These examples might be enough to show how much the Fehm tribunals had strayed from their original purpose and how corrupt and unjust they had become.
Chapter 7.
Cause of the degeneracy of the Fehm-courts—Attempts at reformation—Causes of their high reputation—Case of the Duke of Würtemberg—Of Kerstian Kerkerink—Causes of the decline of the Fehm-jurisdiction.
The chief cause of the degeneracy of the Fehm-courts was the admission of improper persons into the society. Originally, as we have seen, no man was admitted to become a schöppe without producing satisfactory evidence as to the correctness of his character; but now, in the case of either count or schöppe, a sufficient sum of money availed to supersede inquiry, and the consequence was that men of the most disgraceful characters frequently presided at the tribunals and wielded the formidable powers of the society. A writer in the reign of Sigismund says, "that those who had gotten authority to hang men were hardly deserving enough to keep pigs; that they were themselves well worthy of the gallows if one cast a glance over their course of life; that they left not unobserved the mote in their brother's eye, but overlooked the beam in their own, &c." And it required no small courage in the writer thus to express himself; for, according to his own testimony, people then hardly ventured even to speak of the Secret Tribunals, so great was the awe in which they were held.
The main reason for the decline of the Fehm courts was the entry of unsuitable people into the organization. As we have seen, initially, no one was admitted as a schöppe without providing satisfactory proof of their character. However, now, with enough money, both counts and schöppen could bypass any investigation. As a result, individuals with the most questionable reputations often led the tribunals and exercised the significant powers of the society. A writer during the reign of Sigismund mentioned, "those who had the authority to hang people were barely fit to keep pigs; they themselves should be on the gallows if we looked at their lives; they were quick to notice the speck in their brother’s eye but ignored the log in their own," etc. It took considerable bravery for the writer to say this because, according to their own words, people scarcely even dared to mention the Secret Tribunals due to the immense fear surrounding them.
The consequence was that justice was not to be had at any tribunal which was presided over by corrupt judges, as they selected assessors, and even by-standers,[Pg 399] of the same character with themselves, and whatever verdict they pleased was found. The tribunal-lord generally winked at their proceedings, while the right of appeal to the emperor was treated with little respect; for these monarchs had generally affairs of more immediate importance to themselves to occupy their attention. The right of exemption was also trampled on; sovereign princes were, as we have seen, cited before the tribunals; so also were the Jews. Purely civil matters were now maintained to belong to the Fehm-jurisdiction, and parties in such cases were cited before the tribunals, and forfehmed in case of disobedience. In short, the Fehm-jurisdiction was now become a positive evil instead of being, as heretofore, a benefit to the country.
The result was that you couldn't get justice at any court run by corrupt judges, since they picked advisers and even bystanders who were just like them, leading to whatever verdict they wanted. The tribunal lord usually turned a blind eye to their actions, while the right to appeal to the emperor was hardly respected; these rulers often had more pressing matters to focus on. The right to exemption was also ignored; as we’ve seen, sovereign princes were summoned to these courts, as were the Jews. Purely civil issues were now considered under the Fehm jurisdiction, and parties in those cases were summoned to court, facing penalties for disobedience. In short, the Fehm jurisdiction had become a serious problem instead of being, as it once was, a benefit to society.
Various attempts were doubtless made to reform the Fehm-law and tribunals, such as the Arensberg reformation, the Osnaburgh regulation, and others, but to little purpose. The system, in fact, was at variance with the spirit which was now beginning to prevail, and could not be brought to accord with it.
Various attempts were definitely made to reform the Fehm law and tribunals, such as the Arensberg reform, the Osnaburgh regulation, and others, but they were mostly ineffective. The system, in fact, was at odds with the spirit that was starting to take hold, and it couldn't be made to align with it.
Before we proceed to the decline of the society, we will pause a moment to consider the causes of the great reputation and influence which it obtained and exercised during the period in which it flourished.
Before we move on to the decline of society, let's take a moment to think about the reasons behind the significant reputation and influence it gained and had during the time it was thriving.
The first and chief cause was the advantage which it was found to be of for the maintenance of social order and tranquillity. In the very worst and most turbulent times a portion of mankind will always be found desirous of peace and justice, even independently of any private interest; another portion, feeling themselves the victims of oppression, will gladly catch at any hope of protection; even the mighty and the oppressive themselves will at times view with satisfaction any institution which may avail to shield them against power superior to their own, or which they conceive may be made the instrument of extending[Pg 400] and strengthening their consequence. The Fehm-jurisdiction was calculated to suit all these orders of persons. The fourteenth and fifteenth centuries were the most anarchic periods of Germany; the imperial power was feeble to control; and the characters of most of the emperors were such as to render still more unavailing the little authority which, as heads of the empire, they possessed. Sensible of their weakness, these monarchs generally favoured the Fehm-tribunals, which so freely, and even ostentatiously, recognised the imperial superiority, as long as it did not seek to control them or impede them in their proceedings. The knowledge which, if initiated, they could derive of the crimes and misdemeanors committed in the empire, and the power of directing the arms of the society against evil-doers, were also of no small importance, and they gradually became of opinion that their own existence was involved in that of the Fehm-courts. The nobles of Westphalia, in like manner, found their advantage in belonging to the society, and the office of tribunal-lord was, as we have seen, one of influence and emolument.
The main reason was the benefit it provided for maintaining social order and peace. Even in the worst and most chaotic times, there will always be some people who desire peace and justice, regardless of any personal gain; another group, feeling oppressed, will eagerly seize any chance of protection; even the powerful and oppressive might sometimes appreciate any institution that can protect them from greater power or that they think could help them expand and reinforce their own influence. The Fehm jurisdiction was designed to cater to all these groups. The 14th and 15th centuries were the most chaotic periods in Germany; the imperial power was too weak to exert control, and most emperors' characters only made their limited authority even less effective. Aware of their vulnerability, these monarchs generally supported the Fehm tribunals, which openly recognized the empire's superiority as long as it didn't try to control or hinder them in their actions. The ability to learn about crimes and offenses committed in the empire and the power to direct society's forces against wrongdoers were also significant, and they gradually came to believe that their own survival depended on the existence of the Fehm courts. Similarly, the nobles of Westphalia found it advantageous to be part of the society, and being a tribunal lord, as we have seen, was a position of influence and profit.
But it was the more helpless and oppressed classes of society, more especially the unhappy serfs, that most rejoiced in the existence of the Fehm-tribunals; for there only could they hope to meet with sure redress when aggrieved, and frequently was a cause, when other courts had been appealed to in vain, brought before the Secret Tribunal, which judged without respect of persons. The accuser had farther not to fear the vengeance of the evil-doer, or his friends and dependents; for his name was kept a profound secret if the proofs which he could furnish were sufficient to justify the inquisitorial process already described, and thus the robber-noble, or the feudal tyrant, often met his merited punishment at[Pg 401] a time when he perhaps least dreaded it, and when he held his victim, whose cries to justice had brought it on him, in the greatest contempt; for, like the Nemesis, or the "gloom-roaming" Erinnys of antiquity, the retributive justice of the Fehm-tribunals moved to vengeance with stealthy pace, and caught its victim in the midst of his security.
But it was the more vulnerable and oppressed groups in society, especially the unfortunate serfs, who were the most pleased with the existence of the Fehm tribunals. There, they could finally hope for fair justice when wronged, and often a case that had been hopelessly tried in other courts was brought before the Secret Tribunal, which judged impartially. The accuser also didn’t have to fear retaliation from the wrongdoer or their friends and associates; their name was kept a strict secret if the evidence they provided was sufficient to justify the inquiry as previously noted. This way, the corrupt noble or feudal oppressor often faced the punishment they deserved at[Pg 401] a moment when they least expected it, and while they held their victim, whose cries for justice had set this in motion, in the greatest contempt. Like Nemesis or the "gloom-roaming" Erinnys from ancient times, the retributive justice of the Fehm tribunals moved silently and caught its target in the midst of their complacency.
A second cause was the opinion of these courts having been instituted by Charles the Great, a monarch whose memory was held in such high estimation and such just veneration during the middle ages. Emperors thought themselves bound to treat with respect the institution of him from whom they derived their authority; and the clergy themselves, exempt from its jurisdiction, were disposed to view with favour an institution established by the monarch to whom the Church was so deeply indebted, and of whose objects the punishment of heretics was one of the most prominent.
A second reason was the view that these courts were established by Charlemagne, a king whose legacy was highly regarded and respected during the Middle Ages. Emperors felt they should honor the institution created by the ruler from whom they got their power; and the clergy, who were not subject to its authority, were inclined to support an institution set up by the monarch to whom the Church owed so much, especially since one of its main purposes was to punish heretics.
A third, and not the least important cause, was the excellent organization of the society, which enabled it to give such effect to its decrees, and to which nothing in those times presented any parallel. The veil of secrecy which enveloped all its proceedings, and the number of agents ready to execute its mandates, inspired awe; the strict inquiry which was known to be made into the character of a man before he was admitted into it gained it respect. Its sentences were, though the proofs were unknown, believed to have emanated from justice; and bad men trembled, and good men rejoiced, as they beheld the body of a criminal suspended from a tree, and the schöppe's knife stuck beside it to intimate by whom he had been judged and condemned.
A third, and by no means the least important reason, was the society's excellent organization, which allowed it to effectively carry out its decrees, with no clear comparison in those times. The veil of secrecy surrounding all its proceedings, along with the number of agents ready to carry out its orders, inspired fear; the strict vetting known to be done on a person’s character before they were admitted earned it respect. Its judgments, though the evidence was unknown, were believed to have come from a sense of justice; and wrongdoers trembled, while good people celebrated, as they saw the body of a criminal hanging from a tree, with the executioner’s knife placed beside it to indicate who had judged and condemned him.
The reign of the Emperor Maximilian was a period of great reform in Germany, and his establishment of the Perpetual Public Peace, and of[Pg 402] the Imperial Chamber, joined with other measures, tended considerably to alter and improve the condition of the empire. The Fehm-tribunals should, as a matter of prudence, have endeavoured to accommodate themselves to the new order of things; but this is a part of wisdom of which societies and corporate bodies are rarely found capable; and, instead of relaxing in their pretensions, they even sought to extend them farther than before. Under their usual pretext—the denial of justice—they extended their citations to persons and places over which they had no jurisdiction, and thereby provoked the enmity and excited the active hostility of cities and powerful territorial lords.
The reign of Emperor Maximilian was a time of significant reform in Germany. His establishment of the Perpetual Public Peace and the Imperial Chamber, along with other initiatives, greatly changed and improved the empire's situation. The Fehm tribunals should have wisely tried to adapt to this new order, but societies and corporate bodies often struggle with such wisdom. Instead of easing their demands, they aimed to extend them even further. Using their usual excuse—the denial of justice—they expanded their summons to individuals and locations outside their jurisdiction, which stirred resentment and active opposition from cities and powerful territorial lords.
The most remarkable cases which this period presents of the perversion of the rights and powers of the Fehm-tribunals are the two following:—
The most notable examples from this time of the misuse of the rights and powers of the Fehm tribunals are the following two:—
Duke Ulrich of Würtemberg lived unhappily with his duchess Sabina. There was at his court a young nobleman named Hans Hutten, a member of an honourable and powerful family, to whose wife the duke was more particular in his attentions than could be agreeable to a husband. The duchess, on her side, testified a particular esteem for Hans Hutten, and the intimacy between them was such as the duke could not forgive. Hutten was either so vain or so inconsiderate as to wear publicly on his finger a valuable ring which had been given to him by the duchess. This filled up the measure of the jealousy and rage of the duke, and one day, at a hunting-party in the wood of Bebling, he contrived to draw Hutten away from the rest of the train, and, taking him at unawares, ran him through with his sword; he then took off his girdle, and with it suspended him from one of the oak-trees in the wood. When the murder was discovered he did not deny it, but asserted that he was a free schöppe, and had performed the deed[Pg 403] in obedience to a mandate of the Secret Tribunal, to which he was bound to yield obedience. This tale, however, did not satisfy the family of Hutten, and they were as little content with the proposal made by the murderer of giving them satisfaction before a Westphalian tribunal. They loudly appealed to the emperor for justice, and the masculine eloquence of Ulrich von Hutten interested the public so strongly in their favour, that the emperor found himself obliged to issue a sentence of outlawry against the Duke of Würtemberg. At length, through the mediation of Cardinal Lang, an accommodation both with the Hutten family and the duchess was effected; but the enmity of the former was not appeased, and they some time afterwards lent their aid to effect the deposition of the duke and the confiscation of his property.
Duke Ulrich of Würtemberg was unhappy with his duchess Sabina. At his court was a young nobleman named Hans Hutten, from a respected and powerful family, who the duke paid more attention to than was comfortable for a husband. The duchess also held a particular fondness for Hans Hutten, and their closeness was something the duke couldn't overlook. Hutten was either very full of himself or careless enough to publicly wear a valuable ring given to him by the duchess. This pushed the duke’s jealousy and rage to the limit. One day, during a hunting trip in the woods of Bebling, he managed to lure Hutten away from the others and, catching him off guard, stabbed him with his sword; then he took off Hutten’s belt and hung him from one of the oak trees in the woods. When the murder was discovered, the duke didn't deny it, claiming he was a free schöppe and had committed the act[Pg 403] in obedience to a mandate of the Secret Tribunal, to which he was obligated to comply. However, this explanation did not satisfy the Hutten family, and they were equally unhappy with the duke's offer to resolve the matter before a Westphalian tribunal. They called out to the emperor for justice, and Ulrich von Hutten’s passionate pleas drew significant public support for their cause, forcing the emperor to declare the Duke of Würtemberg an outlaw. Eventually, through the intervention of Cardinal Lang, a settlement was reached with both the Hutten family and the duchess, but the Hutten family's anger didn’t subside, and later they helped bring about the duke's deposition and the seizure of his assets.
It would seem that the Fehm-tribunals would have justified the assassination committed by the duke, at least that all confidence in their justice was now gone; and, at this period, even those writers who are most lavish in their praises of the schöppen of the olden time can find no language sufficiently strong to describe the iniquity of those of their own days. It was now become a common saying that the course of a Fehm-court was first to hang the accused and then to examine into the charges against him. By a solemn recess of the Diet at Triers, in 1512, it was declared "that by the Westphalian tribunals many an honest man had lost his honour, body, life, and property;" and the Archbishop of Cologne, who must have known them well, shortly afterwards asserted, among other charges, in a capitulation which he issued, that "by very many they were shunned and regarded as seminaries of villains."
It seems that the Fehm courts would have justified the assassination committed by the duke, and at this point, all confidence in their justice was gone. Even the writers who usually praise the judges of the past can’t find strong enough words to describe the wrongdoing of those in their own time. People commonly said that the process of a Fehm court was to first hang the accused and then look into the charges against him. In a formal resolution by the Diet at Triers in 1512, it was declared that "many honest men had lost their honor, health, life, and property because of the Westphalian courts." The Archbishop of Cologne, who likely knew them well, soon claimed, among other accusations, in a statement he issued that "many people avoided them and considered them breeding grounds for villains."
The second case to which we alluded affords a still stronger proof of their degeneracy.[Pg 404]
The second case we mentioned provides an even stronger evidence of their decline.[Pg 404]
A man named Kerstian Kerkerink, who lived near the town of Münster, was accused, and probably with truth, of having committed repeated acts of adultery. The Free-tribunal of Münster determined to take cognizance of the affair, and they sent and had him taken out of his bed in the dead of the night. In order to prevent his making any noise and resistance, the persons who were employed assured him that he was to be brought before the tribunal of a respectable councillor of the city of Münster, and prevailed on him to put on his best clothes. They took him to a place named Beckman's-bush, where they kept him concealed while one of them conveyed intelligence of their success to the town-council.
A man named Kerstian Kerkerink, who lived near the town of Münster, was accused—and likely justifiably—of committing multiple acts of adultery. The Free Tribunal of Münster decided to look into the matter, and they had him taken from his bed in the middle of the night. To prevent him from making noise or resisting, the people involved told him he was being taken to meet a respected city councillor in Münster, and they convinced him to put on his best clothes. They brought him to a place called Beckman's-bush, where they kept him hidden while one of them informed the town council of their progress.
At break of day the tribunal-lords, free-count, and schöppen, taking with them a monk and a common hangman, proceeded to Beckman's-bush, and had the prisoner summoned before them. When he appeared he prayed to be allowed to have an advocate; but this request was refused, and the court proceeded forthwith to pass sentence of death. The unfortunate man now implored for the delay of but one single day to settle his affairs and make his peace with God; but this request also was strongly refused, and it was signified to him that he must die forthwith, and that if he wished he might make his confession, to which end a confessor had been brought to the place. When the unhappy wretch sued once more for favour, it was replied to him that he should find favour and be beheaded, not hung. The monk was then called forward, to hear his confession; when that was over the executioner (who had previously been sworn never to reveal what he saw) advanced and struck off the head of the delinquent.
At dawn, the tribunal lords, the count, and the judges, along with a monk and an executioner, went to Beckman's-bush and summoned the prisoner to appear before them. When he showed up, he asked to have a lawyer, but this request was denied, and the court quickly moved to pass the death sentence. The unfortunate man then begged for just one more day to settle his affairs and make peace with God; however, this request was also firmly denied, and he was told he must die immediately. He was given the option to confess, and a confessor was brought in for that purpose. When the desperate man asked for mercy again, he was told that he would receive mercy by being beheaded instead of hanged. The monk was then brought forward to hear his confession; once that was done, the executioner (who had previously sworn never to reveal what he saw) stepped up and beheaded the condemned man.
Meantime, information of what was going on had reached the town, and old and young came forth to witness the last act of the tragedy, or perhaps to[Pg 405] interfere in favour of Kerkerink. But this had been foreseen and provided against; officers were set to watch all the approaches from the town till all was over, and when the people arrived they found nothing but the lifeless body of Kerkerink, which was placed in a coffin and buried in a neighbouring churchyard.
Meantime, news of what was happening had spread through the town, and both old and young came out to witness the final act of the tragedy, or maybe to[Pg 405] intervene on behalf of Kerkerink. But this had been anticipated and prepared for; officers were stationed to monitor all the paths from the town until everything was over, and when the people arrived, they found only the lifeless body of Kerkerink, which was placed in a coffin and buried in a nearby churchyard.
The bishop and chapter of Münster expressed great indignation at this irregular proceeding and encroachment on their rights, and it served to augment the general aversion to the Fehm-courts.
The bishop and chapter of Münster were really upset about this irregular action and violation of their rights, and it only increased the overall dislike for the Fehm courts.
Our readers will at once perceive how much the proceedings in this case, which occurred in the year 1580, differed from those of former times. Then the accused was formally summoned, and he was allowed to have an advocate; here he was seized without knowing for what, and was hardly granted even the formality of a trial. Then the people who came, even accidentally, into the vicinity of a Fehm-court, would cross themselves and hasten away from the place, happy to escape with their lives: now they rush without apprehension to the spot where it was sitting, and the members of it fly at their approach. Finally, in severity as well as justice, the advantage was on the side of the old courts. The criminal suffered by the halter; we hear of no father confessor being present to console his last moments, and his body, instead of being deposited in consecrated earth, was left to be torn by the wild beasts and ravenous birds. The times were evidently altered!
Our readers will immediately notice how different the events in this case, which took place in 1580, were from those of earlier times. Back then, the accused was formally summoned and allowed to have a lawyer; here, he was taken without knowing why and was hardly given the chance of a proper trial. People who happened to be near a Fehm-court would cross themselves and quickly leave the area, grateful to have escaped with their lives: now, they eagerly rush to the location where it was held, and the members scatter at their approach. Finally, in terms of severity and justice, the old courts had the upper hand. The criminal was hanged; we hear of no priest being there to comfort him in his final moments, and his body, rather than being buried in sacred ground, was left to be eaten by wild animals and scavenging birds. Times have clearly changed!

Seal of the Secret Tribunals.
The Fehm-tribunals were never formally abolished; but the excellent civil institutions of the Emperors Maximilian and Charles V., the consequent decrease of the turbulent and anarchic spirit, the introduction of the Roman law, the spread of the Protestant religion, and many other events of those times, conspired to give men an aversion for what now appeared to be a barbarous jurisdiction and only suited[Pg 406] to such times as it was hoped and believed never could return. Some of the courts were abolished; exemptions and privileges against them were multiplied; they were prohibited all summary proceedings; their power gradually sank into insignificance; and, though up to the present century a shadow of them remained in some parts of Westphalia, they have long been only a subject of antiquarian curiosity as one of the most striking phenomena of the middle ages. They were only suited to a particular state of society: while that existed they were a benefit to the world; when it was gone they remained at variance with the state which succeeded, became pernicious, were hated and despised, lost all their[Pg 407] influence and reputation, shared the fate of every thing human, whose character is instability and decay, and have left only their memorial behind them.
The Fehm courts were never officially abolished; however, the strong civil institutions established by Emperors Maximilian and Charles V., the resulting decline of the chaotic and anarchic spirit, the introduction of Roman law, the rise of the Protestant religion, and many other events of that time all contributed to people's growing dislike for what now seemed like a barbaric system of justice, appropriate only for a time that was hoped and believed would never return. Some of the courts were dissolved; exemptions and privileges against them increased; they were banned from any quick judgments; their power gradually diminished; and, although a remnant of them existed until the present century in some areas of Westphalia, they have long been merely a subject of historical interest as one of the most notable aspects of the Middle Ages. They were only relevant to a specific social state: as long as that state existed, they were beneficial to the world; when it disappeared, they became incompatible with the new order, turned harmful, were hated and scorned, lost all their[Pg 407] influence and reputation, met the same fate as everything human, characterized by instability and decay, and left only their memory behind.
It is an important advance in civilization, and a great social gain, to have got rid, for all public purposes, of Secret Societies—both of their existence and of their use; for, that, like most of the other obsolete forms into which the arrangements of society have at one time or other resolved themselves, some of these mysterious and exclusive institutions, whether for preserving knowledge or dispensing justice, served, each in its day, purposes of the highest utility, which apparently could not have been accomplished by any other existing or available contrivance, has been sufficiently shown by the expositions that have been given, in the preceding pages, of the mechanism and working of certain of the most remarkable of their number. But it has been made at least equally evident that the evils attendant upon their operation, and inherent in their nature, were also very great, and that, considered even as the suitable remedies for a most disordered condition of human affairs, they were at best only not quite so bad as the disease. They were institutions for preserving knowledge, not by promoting, but by preventing that diffusion of it which, after all, both gives to it its chief value, and, in a natural state of things, most effectually ensures its purification, as well as its increase; and for executing justice, by trampling under foot the rights alike of the wrong-doer and of his victim. Mankind may be said to have stepped out of night into day, in having thrown off the burden and bondage of this form of the social system, and having attained to the power of pursuing knowledge in the spirit of knowledge, and justice in the spirit of justice. We have now escaped from that state of confusion[Pg 408] and conflict in which one man's gain was necessarily another man's loss, and are fairly on our way towards that opposite state in which, in everything, as far as the constitution of this world will permit, the gain of one shall be the gain of all. This latter, to whatever degree it may be actually attainable, is the proper hope and goal of all human civilization.
It’s a significant step forward for society and a substantial social benefit that we’ve eliminated Secret Societies from public life—both their existence and their influence. Like many outdated structures that society once relied on, these mysterious and exclusive organizations, whether focused on preserving knowledge or delivering justice, once played crucial roles that seemingly couldn’t be fulfilled by any other means, as demonstrated in the earlier sections discussing how some of the most notable ones operated. However, it’s also clear that the negative impacts of their existence were considerable and that even when they were seen as fitting solutions for a deeply troubled society, they were at best only marginally better than the problems they aimed to address. They were meant to safeguard knowledge, not by encouraging its spread, but by actually hindering it, which ultimately undermines its key value and disrupts its natural enhancement and clarification; and they executed justice by disregarding the rights of both the offender and their victim. Humanity can be said to have moved from darkness to light by shedding the constraints of this outdated social structure and gaining the ability to pursue knowledge openly and justice fairly. We have left behind a state of chaos and strife where one person’s gain meant another’s loss, and we’re making genuine progress toward a world where, as much as possible under the conditions of this universe, one person’s success can benefit everyone. This ideal, however achievable it may be, is the rightful aspiration and ultimate aim of all human civilization.
THE END.
THE END.
London: Printed by W. Clowks and Sons, Stamford Street.
London: Printed by W. Clowks and Kids, Stamford Street.
[3] Hammer's Geschichte der Assassinen (History of the Assassins), and the same writer's Fundgruben des Orients (Mines of the East), M. Jourdain's Extrait de l'Ouvrage de Mirkhond sur la Dynastie des Ismaelites, and Malcolm's History of Persia, are the principal authorities for the following account of the Assassins.
[3] Hammer's History of the Assassins, along with the same author's Mines of the East, M. Jourdain's Excerpt from Mirkhond's Work on the Ismaili Dynasty, and Malcolm's History of Persia, are the main sources for the following account of the Assassins.
[4] The name given to the dynasty founded by Ardeshir, from his pretended ancestor Sassan, a grandson of Isfundear, a hero greatly celebrated in the ancient history of Persia. Isfundear was the son of Gushtasp, who is supposed to be the Darìus Hystaspes of the Greek historians. Sir John Malcolm has endeavoured to identify Isfundear with the Xerxes of the Greeks.
[4] The name of the dynasty established by Ardeshir, named after his supposed ancestor Sassan, a grandson of Isfundear, a hero well-known in Persia's ancient history. Isfundear was the son of Gushtasp, who is thought to be the Darius Hystaspes mentioned by Greek historians. Sir John Malcolm has attempted to link Isfundear with the Xerxes of the Greeks.
[5] The Oriental proper names being mostly all significant, we shall translate them when we first employ them. As, however, it is not always that it can be discovered what the original Arabic characters are of an eastern word which we meet in Roman letters, we shall be sometimes obliged to leave names unexplained, and at other times to hazard conjectural explanations. In the last case, we shall affix a mark of doubt.
[5] Since most Eastern proper names have meanings, we'll translate them when we first use them. However, it's not always possible to identify the original Arabic characters of an Eastern word presented in Roman letters, so sometimes we'll have to leave names unexplained, and at other times, we may offer speculative explanations. In those cases, we'll indicate uncertainty.
[6] The Kubla Khan of Coleridge (Poetical Works, vol. i. p. 266) is a fine instance of this power of the mind, withdrawn from the contemplation of material objects. The reader will probably recollect the sign given from heaven to Lord Herbert of Cherbury, on the occasion of his work written against revealed religion. The writer has lately heard an instance of a lady of fortune, to whom, as she reclined one day on a sofa, a voice seemed to come from heaven, announcing to her that she was selected as the instrument for accomplishing a great work in the hands of God; and giving, as a sign, that, for a certain number of months, she should be unable to leave the sofa on which she was lying. Such is the power of imagination, that the supposed intimation in regard to the sign actually took effect; she believed herself to have lost the power of motion, and therefore did in reality lose it.
[6] Coleridge's "Kubla Khan" (Poetical Works, vol. i. p. 266) is a great example of the mind's power when it's removed from focusing on physical things. You might remember the sign from heaven given to Lord Herbert of Cherbury when he wrote against revealed religion. Recently, I've heard about a wealthy lady who, while lounging on a sofa one day, felt a voice from heaven tell her she was chosen to do a significant work for God. As a sign, it was announced that she would be unable to leave the sofa for a certain number of months. The power of imagination is such that her belief in this message affected her reality; she thought she had lost her ability to move, and so she genuinely lost it.
[7] See, in Sir J. Malcolm's History of Persia, the dialogue between the Persian king Yezdijird and the Arab envoy. "Whatever," said the latter, "thou hast said regarding the former condition of the Arabs is true. Their food was green lizards; they buried their infant daughters alive; nay, some of them feasted on dead carcasses and drank blood, while others slew their relations, and thought themselves great and valiant when, by such an act, they became possessed of more property. They were clothed with hair garments, knew not good from evil, and made no distinction between that which is lawful and that which is unlawful. Such was our state. But God in his mercy has sent us by a holy prophet a sacred volume, which teaches us the true faith," &c.
[7] In Sir J. Malcolm's History of Persia, there's a conversation between the Persian king Yezdijird and the Arab envoy. "Whatever you've said about the previous state of the Arabs is accurate. Their diet consisted of green lizards; they would bury their infant daughters alive; some even ate dead animals and drank blood, while others killed their own relatives and felt proud and brave when they did it to acquire more wealth. They wore garments made of hair, couldn’t tell good from evil, and didn’t distinguish between what was lawful and unlawful. That was our situation. But in His mercy, God has sent us a holy prophet with a sacred book that teaches us the true faith," etc.
[8] Hallam, Middle Ages, ii. 165.
[9] The Hebrews, as appears from the poetic parts of the Scriptures, had the same delight in the clang of rhyme as the Arabs. See particularly Isaiah in the original.
[9] The Hebrews, as shown in the poetic sections of the Scriptures, enjoyed the sound of rhyme just like the Arabs. Look especially at Isaiah in the original text.
[12] Abbas, the ancestor of this family, was one of the uncles of the Prophet. They obtained possession of the khalifat A.D. 750, and retained it through an hereditary succession of princes for 500 years. Al-Mansoor, the second khalif of this dynasty, transferred the royal residence from Damascus, where the Ommiades had dwelt, to Bagdad, which he founded on the banks of the Tigris. This city, also named the City of Peace, the Vale of Peace, the House of Peace, has acquired, beyond what any other town can claim, a degree of romantic celebrity by means of the inimitable Thousand and One Nights. Such is the ennobling power of genius!
[12] Abbas, the ancestor of this family, was one of the Prophet's uncles. They gained control of the caliphate in CE 750 and held it through a hereditary line of princes for 500 years. Al-Mansoor, the second caliph of this dynasty, moved the royal residence from Damascus, where the Umayyads had lived, to Baghdad, a city he founded along the banks of the Tigris. This city, also known as the City of Peace, the Vale of Peace, and the House of Peace, has earned a level of legendary fame unmatched by any other city, largely thanks to the timeless tales of the Thousand and One Nights. Such is the uplifting power of genius!
[13] Khizer, by some supposed, but perhaps erroneously, to be the prophet Elias, is regarded by the Mohammedans in the light of a beneficent genius. He is the giver of youth to the animal and the vegetable world. He is clad in garments of the most brilliant green, and he stands as keeper of the Well of Life in the Land of Darkness. According to the romances of the East, Iskander, that is, Alexander the Great, resolved to march into the West, to the Land of Darkness, that he might drink of the water of immortality. During seven entire days he and his followers journeyed through dark and dismal deserts. At length they faintly discerned in the distance the green light which shone from the raiment of Khizer. As they advanced it became more and more resplendent, like the brightest and purest emeralds. As the monarch approached, Khizer dipped a cup in the verdant Water of Life, and reached it to him; but the impatience of Iskander was so great that he spilt the contents of the cup, and the law of fate did not permit the guardian of the fount to fill it for him again. The moral of this tale is evident. Its historic foundation is the journey of the Macedonian to the temple of Ammon.
[13] Khizer, thought by some, though possibly incorrectly, to be the prophet Elijah, is seen by Muslims as a benevolent spirit. He gifts youth to both animals and plants. He wears garments of the brightest green and serves as the keeper of the Well of Life in the Land of Darkness. According to Eastern legends, Iskander, or Alexander the Great, decided to march west to the Land of Darkness to drink from the water of immortality. For seven whole days, he and his men traveled through dark and gloomy deserts. Eventually, they faintly spotted in the distance the green light shining from Khizer's clothing. As they got closer, it became increasingly bright, like the clearest and most brilliant emeralds. As the king approached, Khizer filled a cup with the verdant Water of Life and offered it to him; however, Iskander’s impatience was so great that he spilled the cup’s contents, and fate did not allow the guardian of the spring to refill it for him. The moral of this story is clear. Its historical basis is Iskander’s journey to the temple of Ammon.
[14] See Frazer's Khorasan.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Frazer's Khorasan.
[17] The genuineness of the descent of Obeid-Allah has been a great subject of dispute among the eastern historians and jurists. Those in the interests of the house of Abbas strained every nerve to make him out an impostor.
[17] The authenticity of Obeid-Allah's lineage has been a major point of contention among historians and legal scholars in the East. Supporters of the Abbasid family went to great lengths to label him as a fraud.
[18] That is, Missionary of Missionaries.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ That is, Missionary of Missionaries.
[19] Cadhi of Cadhis.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Cadhi of Cadhis.
[20] Hammer, p. 54.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hammer, p. 54.
[21] Mr. De Sacy (Journal des Savans, an 1818) is of opinion that the Arabic words Taleel and Ibahat will not bear the strong sense which Hammer gives them. The former, he says, only signifies that Deism which regards the Deity as merely a speculative being, and annihilates the moral relations between him and the creature; the latter only denotes emancipation from the positive precepts of laws, such as fasting, prayer, &c., but not from moral obligations.
[21] Mr. De Sacy (Journal des Savans, 1818) believes that the Arabic words Taleel and Ibahat don't carry the strong meaning that Hammer attributes to them. He argues that the former simply refers to a type of Deism that sees the Deity as just a theoretical entity and disregards the moral connections between the Deity and beings; the latter only indicates freedom from specific laws like fasting, prayer, etc., but not from moral responsibilities.
[24] Reis, from the Arabic Râs (the head), answers in some respects to captain, a word of similar origin. Thus the master of a shin is called the Reis. Sir John Malcolm says, "it is equivalent to esquire, as it was originally understood. It implies in Persia the possession of landed estates and some magisterial power. The reis is in general the hereditary head of a village."
[24] Reis, derived from the Arabic Râs (the head), is similar in some ways to the word captain, which has a similar origin. Therefore, the master of a ship is called the Reis. Sir John Malcolm mentions, "it is equivalent to esquire, as it was originally understood. It implies in Persia the ownership of land and some level of authority. The reis is generally the hereditary leader of a village."
[25] Mirkhond.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mirkhond.
[26] Sir J. Malcolm says that the person with whom he read this portion of history in Persia observed to him that the English were well acquainted with this stratagem, as it was by means of it that they got Calcutta from the poor Emperor of Delhi.
[26] Sir J. Malcolm mentions that the person he discussed this part of history with in Persia pointed out that the English were familiar with this tactic, as it was through this method that they took Calcutta from the unfortunate Emperor of Delhi.
[27] This castle was built by sultan Malek Shah. The following was its origin:—As Malek Shah, who was a great lover of the chase, was out one day a hunting, one of the hounds went astray on the nearly inaccessible rock on which the castle was afterwards erected. The ambassador of the Byzantine emperor, who was of the party, observed to the sultan, that in his master's dominions so advantageous a situation would not be left unoccupied, but would long since have been crowned with a castle. The sultan followed the ambassador's advice, and erected the castle of the King's Pearl on this lofty rock. When the castle fell into the hands of the Ismaïlites, pious Moslems remarked that it could not have better luck, since its site had been pointed out by a dog (an unclean beast in their eyes), and its erection advised by an infidel.
[27] This castle was built by Sultan Malek Shah. Here’s how it came to be: One day, while Malek Shah, a big fan of hunting, was out in the fields, one of the hounds got lost on the almost unreachable rock where the castle was later built. The ambassador of the Byzantine emperor, who was with them, told the sultan that a site as advantageous as this wouldn’t be left unoccupied in his master's lands; it would have already been topped with a castle long ago. The sultan took the ambassador's suggestion and built the Castle of the King's Pearl on that high rock. When the castle was taken over by the Ismaïlites, devout Muslims said it couldn’t have met a worse fate, since a dog (which they considered an unclean animal) had pointed out its location and an infidel had recommended its construction.
[28] Hammer, 97.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hammer, 97.
[29] That is, Jesus. It may be here observed that the proper names of the Old Testament are still used in the East. Ibrahim, Ismael, Yahya, Joossuf, Moossa, Daood, Suleiman, Issa, are Abraham, Ishmael, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, David, Solomon, and Joshua, or Jesus.
[29] That is, Jesus. It's worth noting that the proper names from the Old Testament are still in use in the East. Ibrahim, Ismael, Yahya, Joossuf, Moossa, Daood, Suleiman, and Issa are the names for Abraham, Ishmael, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, David, Solomon, and Joshua, or Jesus.
[31] Hence the Spanish Cid.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hence the Spanish Cid.
[32] Hammer, book ii.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hammer, book 2.
[34] Marsden's Translation.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Marsden's Translation.
[36] The Arabic name of the hyoscyamus, or henbane. Hammer conjectures that the word benge, or, with the Coptic article in the plural, ni-benje, is the same with the nepenthe of the ancients.—Fundgruben des Orients, iii. 202.
[36] The Arabic name for hyoscyamus, or henbane. Hammer suggests that the word benge, or, with the Coptic article in the plural, ni-benje, is the same as the nepenthe from ancient times.—Fundgruben des Orients, iii. 202.
[37] Fundgruben des Orients, vol. iv.
[38] History of Persia, vol. i.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ History of Persia, vol. 1.
[41] This was the Armenia in Cilicia.
This was Armenia in Cilicia.
[42] D'Herbelot, titre Carmath.
[43] The number slain was 6,000.
The death toll was 6,000.
[44] It was the month of December.
It was December.
[48] He was accompanied by Saladin, who gives the following account of his own repugnance to the expedition:—"When Noor-ed-deen ordered me to go to Egypt with my uncle, after Sheerkoh had said to me in his presence, 'Come Yoossuf, make ready for the journey!' I replied, 'By God, if thou wert to give me the kingdom of Egypt I would not go, for I have endured in Alexandria what I shall not forget while I live.' But Sheerkoh said to Noor-ed-deen, 'It cannot be but that he should accompany me.' Whereupon Noor-ed-deen repeated his command, but I persisted in my refusal. As Noor-ed-deen also adhered to his determination, I excused myself by pleading the narrowness of my circumstances. Noor-ed-deen then gave me all that was requisite for my outfit, but I felt as if I was going to death."—Abulfeda.
[48] He was with Saladin, who shared his own feelings about the expedition:—"When Noor-ed-deen told me to go to Egypt with my uncle, after Sheerkoh had said to me in front of him, 'Come Yoossuf, get ready for the journey!' I replied, 'By God, even if you offered me the kingdom of Egypt, I wouldn’t go, because I’ve experienced things in Alexandria that I’ll never forget as long as I live.' But Sheerkoh insisted to Noor-ed-deen, 'He must accompany me.' Then Noor-ed-deen repeated his order, but I continued to refuse. Since Noor-ed-deen was firm in his decision, I tried to excuse myself by saying I was in a tight spot money-wise. Noor-ed-deen then provided me with everything I needed for my trip, but I felt like I was heading to my own death."—Abulfeda.
[49] William of Tyre xx. 12.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ William of Tyre ch. 12.
[56] May it not be said that real historic characters should not be misrepresented? Sir W. Scott was at full liberty to make his Varneys and his Bois Gilberts as accomplished villains as he pleased; he might do as he pleased with his own; but what warrant had he from history for painting Conrad of Montferrat and the then Master of the Templars under such odious colours as he does?
[56] Is it not true that real historical figures shouldn't be misrepresented? Sir W. Scott was completely free to create his Varneys and Bois Gilberts as skilled villains as he wanted; he could do whatever he liked with his own characters. But what justification did he have from history for portraying Conrad of Montferrat and the Master of the Templars in such a negative light?
[57] The author invariably writes Montserrat for Montferrat. The former is in Spain, and never was a marquisate. As it were to show that it was no error of the press, it is said, "The shield of the marquis bore, in reference to his title, a serrated and rocky mountain." We also find naphtha and bitumen confounded, the former being described as the solid, the latter as the liquid substance.
[57] The author consistently refers to Montserrat when he means Montferrat. Montserrat is in Spain and was never a marquisate. To prove that this is not a printing mistake, it is noted, "The marquis's coat of arms featured a jagged, rocky mountain," in reference to his title. We also see naphtha and bitumen mixed up, with the former described as the solid form and the latter as the liquid.
[58] "Sebil, in Arabic 'the way,' means generally the road, and the traveller is hence called Ibn-es-sebil, the son of the road; but it more particularly signifies the way of piety and good works, which leads to Paradise. Whatever meritorious work the Moslem undertakes, he does Fi sebil Allah, on the way of God, or for the love of God; and the most meritorious which he can undertake is the holy war, or the fight for his faith and his country, on God's way. But since pious women can have no immediate share in the contest, every thing which they can contribute to the nursing of the wounded, and the refreshment of the exhausted, is imputed to them as equally meritorious as if they had fought themselves. The distribution of water to the exhausted and wounded warriors is the highest female merit in the holy war on God's way."—Hammer's History of the Assassins, Wood's translation, p. 144.
[58] "Sebil, which translates to 'the way' in Arabic, generally refers to the road, and a traveler is therefore called Ibn-es-sebil, meaning 'son of the road'; however, it specifically signifies the path of piety and good deeds that leads to Paradise. Any good deed a Muslim performs is done Fi sebil Allah, on the way of God, or out of love for God; and the most commendable action is the holy war, or fighting for their faith and country, on God's way. Although pious women cannot participate directly in the battle, everything they do to care for the wounded and support the exhausted is considered just as commendable as if they had fought themselves. Providing water to the weary and injured warriors is the highest achievement for women in the holy war on God's way."—Hammer's History of the Assassins, Wood's translation, p. 144.
[59] This part of Persia also acquires interest from the circumstance of Russia being believed to be looking forward to obtaining it, one day or other, by conquest or cession.
[59] This part of Persia is also interesting because people believe that Russia is looking to acquire it, eventually through conquest or transfer.
[60] Azed-ud-dowlah, one of the most celebrated of these princes, had a dyke constructed across the river Kur, in the plain of Murdasht, near the ruins of Persepolis, to confine the water, and permit of its being distributed over the country. It was called the Bund-Ameer (Prince's Dyke), and travellers ignorant of the Persian language have given this name to the river itself. We must not, therefore, be surprised to find in "Lalla Rookh" a lady singing,
[60] Azed-ud-dowlah, one of the most renowned of these princes, had a dam built across the Kur River, in the Murdasht plain, close to the ruins of Persepolis, to hold back the water and allow it to be distributed throughout the area. It was called the Bund-Ameer (Prince's Dyke), and travelers who didn’t speak Persian have mistakenly referred to the river by this name. So, it’s not surprising to find in "Lalla Rookh" a lady singing,
and asking,
and asking,
Calm and still, beyond doubt, is the Bendameer.
Calm and still, without a doubt, is the Bendameer.
[61] Four lines, quoted by Sir J. Malcolm from the Gulistan of Saadi, may be thus literally rendered in the measure of the original:—
[61] Four lines, quoted by Sir J. Malcolm from the Gulistan of Saadi, can be translated literally to match the rhythm of the original:—
Be just and merciful, and you will become a Feridoon.
[62] Paradise, we are to recollect, is a word of Persian origin, adopted by the Greeks, from whom we have received it. A Paradise was a place planted with trees, a park, garden, or pleasure-ground, as we may term it.
[62] Paradise, as we should remember, comes from a Persian word that was taken up by the Greeks, from whom we got it. A Paradise was a spot filled with trees, a park, garden, or a recreation area, as we might say.
[63] Hammer has, in his "Belles Lettres of Persia" (Schöne Redekunst Persians), and in the "Mines de l'Orient," translated a considerable portion of the Shah-nameh in the measure of the original. MM. Campion and Atkinson have rendered a part of it into English heroic verse. Görres has epitomised it, as far as to the death of Roostem, in German prose, under the title of "Das Heldenbuch von Iran." An epitome of the poem in English prose, by Mr. Atkinson, has also lately appeared.
[63] Hammer has, in his "Belles Lettres of Persia" (Schöne Redekunst Persians), and in the "Mines de l'Orient," translated a significant portion of the Shah-nameh while keeping the original rhythm. MM. Campion and Atkinson have adapted part of it into English heroic verse. Görres has summarized it, up to the death of Roostem, in German prose, titled "Das Heldenbuch von Iran." Recently, an English prose summary of the poem by Mr. Atkinson has also been released.
[65] Malcolm's History of Persia, vol. i. In the clever work called "Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry," which is the best picture ever given of the language, manners, and modes of thinking of that class, there is an amusing account (and an undoubtedly true one) of the "Abduction of Mat Kavanagh," one of that curious order of men called in that country hedge-schoolmasters, which, as indicative of a passion for knowledge, may be placed in comparison with this anecdote of Ala-ed-deen.
[65] Malcolm's History of Persia, vol. i. In the clever book called "Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry," which is the best depiction ever provided of the language, customs, and ways of thinking of that class, there’s a funny account (and definitely a true one) of the "Abduction of Mat Kavanagh," one of those interesting individuals known in that country as hedge-schoolmasters. This reflects a passion for knowledge and can be compared to this anecdote of Ala-ed-deen.
Shines through the mountain portal that opens "Sublime from that valley of bliss to the world,"
says Mr. Moore in his "Lalla Rookh," undoubtedly without any knowledge of the eastern song. His original was perhaps Campbell's
says Mr. Moore in his "Lalla Rookh," probably without any awareness of the eastern song. His original was maybe Campbell's
His meteor flag to the winds spread,
He gazes from his throne of clouds over half the world;
which was again, in all probability, suggested, like Gray's
which was likely suggested again, similar to Gray's
"Streamed like a meteor through the troubled air,"
by Milton's
by Milton
"Shone like a meteor racing through the wind."
It is thus that the particles of poetry, like those of matter, are in eternal circulation, and forming new combinations.
It’s like the particles of poetry, just like those of matter, are always moving and creating new combinations.
[67] The principal works on the subject of the Templars are Raynouard Monumens historiques relatifs à la Condamnation des Templiers; Dupuy Histoire de la Condamnation des Templiers; Münter Statutenbuch des Ordens der Tempelherren; and Wilike Geschichte des Tempelherrenordens. There is scarcely anything on the subject in English.
[67] The main works on the topic of the Templars are Raynouard's "Historical Monuments Related to the Condemnation of the Templars"; Dupuy's "History of the Condemnation of the Templars"; Münter's "Statutes of the Order of the Knights Templar"; and Wilike's "History of the Knights Templar." There's hardly anything available on this subject in English.
[68] On the subject of chivalry see Ste. Palaye Mémoires sur la Chevalerie, Sir W. Scott's Essay on the same subject, and Mills's and James's histories of chivalry. We do not recollect that any of these writers has fairly proved that the chivalry which they describe ever existed as an institution, and we must demur to the principle which they all assume of romances like Perceforest being good authority for the manners of the age in which they were composed.
[68] For information on chivalry, see Ste. Palaye's Mémoires sur la Chevalerie, Sir W. Scott's essay on the topic, and the histories of chivalry by Mills and James. We don’t recall any of these authors convincingly proving that the chivalry they describe ever functioned as an institution, and we must disagree with the assumption they all make that romances like Perceforest are reliable sources for the customs of the era in which they were written.
[70] The other writers of that century agree in the account given above. Brompton's authority has been preferred by some modern writers, who probably wished to pay their court to the order of Malta.
[70] The other writers from that century agree with the account mentioned above. Some modern writers have favored Brompton's authority, likely in an attempt to show favor to the Order of Malta.
[72] See p. 187. Sir W. Scott describes his Templar in Ivanhoe, as wearing a white mantle with a black cross of eight points. The original cross of the Hospitallers, we may observe, had not eight points. That of the order of Malta was of this form.
[72] See p. 187. Sir W. Scott describes his Templar in Ivanhoe as wearing a white cloak with a black eight-pointed cross. It's worth noting that the original cross of the Hospitallers did not have eight points; that design belonged to the Order of Malta.
[73] Bauseant, or Bausant, was, in old French, a piebald horse, or a horse marked white and black. Ducange, Roquefort. The word is still preserved with its original meaning in the Scotch dialect, in the form Bawsent:
[73] Bauseant, or Bausant, used to refer to a piebald horse, meaning a horse with white and black markings, in old French. Ducange, Roquefort. The term still retains its original meaning in the Scottish dialect as Bawsent:
"I’ve got friends everywhere,"
says Burns, describing the "ploughman's collie," in his tale of the "Twa Dogs;" and in the Glossary, Dr. Currie explains Baws'nt as meaning "having a white stripe down the face." As, however, some notion of handsomeness or attractiveness of appearance seems to be involved in the epithet, Bauseant, or Beauséant, may possibly be merely an older form of the present French word, Bienséant.
says Burns, describing the "ploughman's collie," in his story of the "Twa Dogs;" and in the Glossary, Dr. Currie explains Baws'nt as meaning "having a white stripe down the face." However, since some idea of beauty or attractiveness seems to be part of the term, Bauseant, or Beauséant, might just be an older version of the current French word, Bienséant.
[74] See p. 88.
[75] Page 116.
[77] Page 116.
[78] The organisation and the rules of the Hospitallers were similar to those of the Templars; but as that order existed down to modern times, the rules, &c., given by Vertot, contain a great number of modern additions.
[78] The structure and rules of the Hospitallers were similar to those of the Templars; however, since that order has lasted into modern times, the rules, etc., provided by Vertot include many contemporary updates.
[81] This influence of the clergy excited the spleen of the knights. Gerard de Caux, in his examination hereafter to be noticed, said, "The aged men of the order were unanimous in maintaining that the order had gained nothing in internal goodness by the admission of learned members."
[81] This influence of the clergy angered the knights. Gerard de Caux, in his examination that will be discussed later, stated, "The older members of the order all agreed that the order had gained nothing in internal goodness by allowing educated members to join."
[86] Magister, Maistre, is the almost invariable expression in the historians, the statutes of the order, and most documents. Magnus Magister was, however, early employed. Terricus, the Master of the order, thus styles himself when writing to Henry II. of England. The term Grand-Master is apt to convey erroneous ideas of pomp and magnificence to the minds of many readers.
[86] Magister, Maistre, is the almost constant term used by historians, in the order's statutes, and in most documents. Magnus Magister was, however, used early on. Terricus, the Master of the order, refers to himself this way when writing to Henry II of England. The term Grand-Master tends to create misleading impressions of grandeur and splendor for many readers.
[87] The Turcopoles were the offspring of a Turkish father, by a Christian mother; or also those who had been reared among the Turks, and had learned their mode of fighting. The Christians employed them as light cavalry; and the Templars had always a number of them in their pay.
[87] The Turcopoles were the children of a Turkish father and a Christian mother, or those who had grown up among the Turks and learned their style of fighting. The Christians used them as light cavalry, and the Templars always had several of them on their payroll.
[89] Le pas de chien. Münter (p. 66) declares his ignorance of where it lay. It was evidently the dangerous pass at the Nahr-el-Kelb, (Dog's River), near the sea, on the way to Antioch.
[89] The Dog's Pass. Münter (p. 66) admits he has no idea where it was located. It was clearly the risky pass at the Nahr-el-Kelb, (Dog's River), close to the sea, on the route to Antioch.
[91] The Carroccio of the Italian republics.
The Carroccio of Italian republics.
[92] Sir W. Scott would probably find some difficulty in justifyin his making his Templar accept the combat à outrance at the "gentle and free passage of Ashby de la Zouche."
[92] Sir W. Scott would likely struggle to justify his decision to make his Templar engage in the fight to the death at the "gentle and free passage of Ashby de la Zouche."
[94] The proceedings against the Templars have been published from the original documents by Mowdenhaler, in Germany; but the work has been bought up by the freemasons, who fancy themselves descended from the Templars, so that we have been unable to procure a copy of it. Wilike has, however, extracted largely from it.
[94] The records concerning the Templars have been released from the original documents by Mowdenhaler in Germany; however, the freemasons, who believe they are descendants of the Templars, have purchased all available copies, making it difficult for us to acquire one. Wilike has, nonetheless, drawn heavily from it.
[97] In the church of the romantic hamlet of Gavarnic, a few leagues from Barèges, on the road to Spain, in the heart of the Hautes Pyrénées, are shown twelve skulls, which are said to have been those of Templars who were beheaded in that place. The tradition is, in all probability, incorrect; but the Templars had possessions in Bigorre.
[97] In the church of the quaint village of Gavarnic, a short distance from Barèges, along the road to Spain, in the heart of the Hautes Pyrénées, there are twelve skulls on display, believed to be those of Templars who were beheaded there. This tradition is likely inaccurate, but the Templars did have holdings in Bigorre.
[99] Monumens Historiques, &c. p. 46.
[100] Raynouard, p. 253.
[101] Raynouard, 61. This circumstance was first remarked by Fleury, Hist. Eccles., lib. xci. Yet it seems hardly credible that the pope and his secretaries could have made so gross a mistake.
[101] Raynouard, 61. Fleury first pointed out this situation in Hist. Eccles., lib. xci. Still, it’s hard to believe that the pope and his secretaries could have made such a serious error.
[102] All these crimes had been acknowledged by various members of the order. Yet what can be more improbable than the worship of the cat for instance? This charge, by the way, had already been made against the sect of the Cathari, who were said to have derived their name a catta:—rather their name gave origin to the invention.
[102] All these crimes had been recognized by different members of the group. But what could be more unlikely than the worship of a cat, for example? By the way, this accusation had already been directed at the Cathari sect, who were said to have gotten their name a catta:—or rather, their name led to the creation of that idea.
[104] Our readers will call to mind the well-known anecdote of King Richard I. When admonished by the zealous Fulk, of Neuilly, to get rid of his three favourite daughters, pride, avarice, and voluptuousness,—"You counsel well," said the king, "and I hereby dispose of the first to the Templars, of the second to the Benedictines, and of the third to my prelates."
[104] Our readers might remember the famous story about King Richard I. When the passionate Fulk of Neuilly advised him to get rid of his three favorite daughters—pride, greed, and sensual pleasure— "That's good advice," said the king, "so I'm giving the first one to the Templars, the second to the Benedictines, and the third to my bishops."
[105] Similar charges are said to have been brought against the Hospitallers in the year 1238, but without effect. There was no Philip the Fair at that time in France.
[105] Similar accusations were reportedly made against the Hospitallers in 1238, but they didn’t lead to any action. Philip the Fair was not in France at that time.
[106] Clement, in a bull dated but four days after that of the suppression, acknowledged that the whole of the evidence against the order amounted only to suspicion!
[106] Clement, in a statement dated just four days after the suppression, admitted that all the evidence against the order was merely suspicion!
[107] We mean the illustrious Jos. von Hammer, whose essay on the subject is to be found in the sixth volume of the Mines de l'Orient, where it will be seen that he regards Sir W. Scott, in his Ivanhoe, as a competent witness against the Templars, on account of his correct and faithful pictures of the manners and opinions of the middle ages. We apprehend that people are beginning now to entertain somewhat different ideas on the subject of our great romancer's fidelity, of which the present pages present some instances.
[107] We’re referring to the distinguished Jos. von Hammer, whose essay on the topic can be found in the sixth volume of the Mines de l'Orient, where he considers Sir W. Scott in his Ivanhoe to be a reliable source against the Templars because of his accurate and faithful depictions of the customs and views of the Middle Ages. We believe that people are starting to have somewhat different opinions about our great novelist's accuracy, as this text illustrates in several examples.
[108] See Manuel des Templiers. As this book is only sold to members of the society, we have been unable to obtain a copy of it. Our account has been derived from Mills's History of Chivalry. That this writer should have believed it implicitly is, we apprehend, no proof of its truth.
[108] See Manuel des Templiers. Since this book is only available to members of the society, we haven't been able to get a copy. Our information comes from Mills's History of Chivalry. The fact that this author took it at face value doesn’t, in our view, guarantee its accuracy.
[109] This has, we think, been fully proved by Sr. Rossetti. It must not be concealed that this writer strongly asserts that the Templars were a branch of this society.
[109] We believe that Sr. Rossetti has thoroughly demonstrated this. It should not be hidden that this author firmly claims that the Templars were a subgroup of this society.
[110] Dr. Berck has, in his elaborate work on this subject (Geschichte der Westphälischen Femgerichte, Bremen, 1815), collected, we believe, nearly all the information that is now attainable. This work has been our principal guide; for, though we have read some others, we cannot say that we have derived any important information from them. As the subject is in its historical form entirely new in English literature, we have, at the hazard of appearing occasionally dry, traced with some minuteness the construction and mode of procedure of these celebrated courts.
[110] Dr. Berck, in his detailed study on this topic (Geschichte der Westphälischen Femgerichte, Bremen, 1815), has gathered almost all the available information that we know of. This work has been our main reference; although we have looked at some other sources, we can't say we've found any critical insights in them. Since the topic is entirely new in English literature in its historical context, we've, at the risk of sounding a bit tedious, provided a detailed account of the structure and procedures of these renowned courts.
[111] The romantic accounts of the Secret Tribunals will be found in Sir W. Scott's translation of Goëthe's Götz von Berlichingen, and in his House of Aspen and Anne of Geierstein. From various passages in Sir W. Scott's biographical and other essays, it is plain that he believed such to be the true character of the Secret Tribunals.
[111] The romantic stories about the Secret Tribunals can be found in Sir W. Scott's translation of Goethe's Götz von Berlichingen, as well as in his works House of Aspen and Anne of Geierstein. Various excerpts from Sir W. Scott's biographical and other essays clearly show that he believed this to be the true nature of the Secret Tribunals.
[114] Berck, pp. 259, 260.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berck, pp. 259, 260.
[116] Spelt also Fem, Fäm, Vem, Vehm. In German f and v are pronounced alike, as also are ä and e. The words from which Fahm has been derived are Fahne, a standard; Femen, to skin; Fehde, feud; Vemi (i. e. væ mihi), wo is me; Ve or Vaem, which Dreyer says signifies, in the northern languages, holy; Vitte (old German), prudence; Vette, punishment; the Fimmiha of the Salic law; Swedish Fem, Islandic Fimm, five, such being erroneously supposed to be the number of judges in a Fehm, or court. Finally, Mözer deduces it from Fahm, which he says is employed in Austria and some other countries for Rahm, cream.
[116] Spelled also Fem, Fäm, Vem, Vehm. In German, f and v are pronounced the same, as are ä and e. The words that Fahm comes from include Fahne, meaning standard; Femen, meaning to skin; Fehde, meaning feud; Vemi (i.e., væ mihi), meaning "wo is me"; Ve or Vaem, which Dreyer states signifies "holy" in northern languages; Vitte (old German), meaning prudence; Vette, meaning punishment; the Fimmiha of the Salic law; Swedish Fem, Islandic Fimm, meaning five, which has been mistakenly believed to be the number of judges in a Fehm, or court. Lastly, Mözer traces it back to Fahm, which he claims is used in Austria and some other countries for Rahm, meaning cream.
[120] This word, which cannot be adequately translated, is the low-Latin Scabini, the French Echevins. We shall take the liberty of using it throughout. The schöppen were called frei-(free) schöppen, as the count was called frei-graf, the court frei-stuhl, on account of the jurisdiction of the tribunals being confined to freemen.
[120] This word, which can't be properly translated, is the low-Latin Scabini and the French Echevins. We'll use it consistently. The schöppen were referred to as frei- (free) schöppen, just as the count was called frei-graf, and the court frei-stuhl, because the authority of the courts was limited to freemen.
[122] When a person was admitted into the society he paid, besides the fee to the count already mentioned, to each schöppe who was assisting there, and to each frohnbote, four livres Tournois.
[122] When someone joined the society, they paid, in addition to the fee to the count mentioned earlier, four livres Tournois to each schöppe who was there to assist, as well as to each frohnbote.
[124] In German Verfehmt. We have ventured to coin the word in the text. The English for answers to the German ver; vergessen is forget; verloren is forlorn.
[124] In German Verfehmt. We have taken the liberty to create this word in the text. The English equivalents for the German ver; vergessen is forget; verloren is forlorn.
[125] In German, Dienstag, probably Dinstag, i.e. Court-day.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ In German, Dienstag, probably Dinstag, i.e. Court-day.
[130] The following is one of his predictions, delivered by him, under the name of Master Von Dolete, in the year 1457: "In the ensuing month, September, the sun will appear like a black dragon; cruel winds will blow, the sea will roar, and men will be knocked to pieces by the wind. The sun will then be turned to blood; that betokeneth war in the East and West. A mighty emperor will die; the earth will quake, and few men will remain alive. Wherefore secure your houses and chambers; lay up provisions for thirty days in caverns," &c., &c. The arts of knaves and the language of impostors are the same in all ages and countries.
[130] Here’s one of his predictions, given by him under the name Master Von Dolete in 1457: "In the coming month, September, the sun will look like a black dragon; harsh winds will blow, the sea will roar, and people will be thrown around by the wind. The sun will then turn to blood; this signals war in the East and West. A powerful emperor will die; the earth will shake, and only a few people will survive. Therefore, secure your homes and rooms; store enough supplies for thirty days in caves," etc., etc. The tricks of con artists and the talk of frauds are the same in every age and place.
Transcriber's Note: Variations in spelling, hyphens, and accents left as printed.
Transcriber's Note: Spelling, hyphenation, and accents have been kept as they originally appear.
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