39
Nomadic Violence in the First Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem and
the Military Orders
Jochen G. Schenk
German Historical Institute, London
This present study takes its inspiration from Ronnie Ellenblum’s revisionist book on
crusader castles, Crusader Castles and Modern Histories. 1 In the book Ellenblum not
only challenges prevailing ideas of the socio-political functions and implications of the
medieval castle. Relying a great deal on Raymond Smail he also develops the view
that castles marked the centres of the lordships dependent on them, that the size and
shape of lordships were determined by the power radiating from these castles and
that borders existed where such power ceased to be effective.2 Moreover, in his
previous study on patterns of Frankish settlement in the Latin East Ellenblum has
described the unevenness of rural settlements in the Crusader kingdom of Jerusalem,
a kingdom that was divided by cultural borders dating back to Byzantine and Biblical
times. It was along the lines of a cultural frontier and along religious divisions, which
had segregated, for example, the Samaritan population from the Byzantine Christians
in Central Samaria, that the rural settlement of the Franks developed, creating wide
spaces where Frankish settlers never gained a foot and where nomadic tribesmen
(‘wandering Turks’ as well as Bedouins) made up a large percentage of the
population. 3 These were also the regions where the military orders of the Temple
and the Hospital established some of their major strongholds during the second half
of the twelfth century. This study argues that in addition to protecting the kingdom of
Jerusalem against perceived enemies from without, these strongholds are evidence of
the military orders’ involvement in policing nomads roaming within and traversing
through the kingdom.
A second outcome of Ellenblum’s more recent research is his concept of
‘geography of fear’. 4 It correlates the degree of actual threat, measured by the number
of reported attacks on the kingdom, with the activity of castle building over a
prolonged period of time. The way he sees it, after 1099 the kingdom did not endure
Reading Medieval Studies, 36 (2010): 39-55
40 Schenk
in a perpetual state of emergency, as the chroniclers and many historians wanted us to
believe. Rather, the roughly ninety years leading to Saladin’s decisive victory over the
Frankish army at Hattin in 1187, which put an end to the first Frankish kingdom, can
be divided into a period of frequent military engagement between Franks and
Muslims, a period of relative security, and a period of sustained Muslim offensive,
which resulted in the creation of the Frankish frontier. The first of these periods,
which lasted from 1099 until 1115, was defined by the frequent incursions of Fatimid
armies from the south and Seldjuk armies from the east into the kingdom of
Jerusalem. The second, lasting from 1115 until 1167, witnessed a sharp decline in the
number of orchestrated Muslim attacks and an increase in Frankish offensive
campaigns, which coincided with the establishment and re-enforcement of numerous
fortresses, particularly in the south-western part of the kingdom. The third period,
which lasted until 1187, saw the crusader states put under increasing pressure from a
united Muslim enemy under the charismatic leadership of Nur ad-Din and Saladin. 5
The dates for each period can be debated and would have differed from region
to region, but the chronology, even in its narrowest terms, suggests that the Order of
the Temple was founded, and the Order of St John became military, in the second
period, and thus at a time of relative peace and security (the frequency of Muslim
attacks during that period was approximately twelve times less than during the first
stage, from 1099 to 1115). 6 The creation of the Order of the Temple in 1120
happened more than a decade after the last Fatimid attack from Ascalon on
Jerusalem and seven years after the last reported attack by the joint armies of
Damascus and Mosul from Damascus. 7 What the founding brothers of the Order of
the Temple would have been experiencing was, in relative terms, a period of peace
and Frankish expansion. Similarly, King Fulk’s transfer of the castle Bethgibelin to
the Order of St John in 1136, which is the earliest evidence we have for the
militarization of the Order, occurred at a time when the large-scale Fatimid intrusions
into the kingdom orchestrated by, and channelled through, nearby Ascalon had
already decreased significantly (although Ascalon was still, correctly, perceived as a
threat). 8
The creation of the military orders was therefore also a response to a different
kind of immediate threat, one that grew from within the newly created crusader states,
albeit often with the support of, or influenced by, Aleppo, Damascus or Cairo. In the
case of the Templars it is well documented that an important element of that
perceived threat was the danger created by roaming bands of highwaymen, who
preyed on pilgrims and other travellers using the old pilgrim roads. The road leading
east from Acre to Rama was, according to the eleventh-century Persian traveller Nasir
Kushraw, beleaguered by ‘disorderly men, who set upon anyone whom they saw to
Nomadic Violence 41
be a stranger in order to rob him of everything that he had.’ 9 The same was true for a
stretch of the road leading from Rames to Jerusalem, where travellers suffered from
the attacks of nearby villagers who were eventually smoked out of their mountain
hideouts and killed by Baldwin of Edessa. 10 The pilgrim Saewulf, who toured the
Holy Land in 1102-3, and Abbot Daniel, travelling the region three years later, were
shocked by the violence conducted by brigands to which travellers on the roads from
Jaffa to Jerusalem and from Jerusalem to the river Jordan, to Hebron, into Galilee,
and in Baysan were exposed, with much of the blame being directed against
‘Saracens’ from Ascalon. The situation had not improved when Abbot Ekkehard of
Aura was touring the Holy Land sometime between 1110 and 1115,11 and, judging
from other accounts, visitors to Bethlehem and travellers in Galilee did not fare much
better. 12 Bedouin violence in particular was also endemic in the Sinai desert, along
major Muslim pilgrim routes to Mecca, and had by the eleventh century spread into
Egypt. 13
In the kingdom of Jerusalem, it is difficult to discern who the perpetrators were
who caused travellers, and eventually the Frankish government, such trouble. The
sources mention ‘Turks’ or ‘Turcomans’, ‘Saracens’ and ‘Bedouins’. Since the
second century the term ‘Saracen’ (Saracenus) was used as a synonym for the
Bedouin Arab, including Arabian tribesmen who by the eleventh century had settled
in Palestine and Syria. 14 ‘Turk’ and ‘Turcoman’ would refer to tribesmen from the
Seljuq empire who were again pouring into Northern Syria and Palestine from Persia
in the eleventh century. Roaming freely around the countryside they were, to quote
Carole Hillenbrand, ‘something of a loose canon’: unreliable, war prone, and loyal
only to their own tribe. 15 The term ‘Bedouin’, would refer to Arabic-speaking pastoral
nomads in general, Christians as well as Muslims, who inhabited the deserts to the
east and south of the Latin kingdom. 16 Among the tribes who had migrated to
Palestine and Syria since the sixth century and who were still present in the Latin
kingdom at the time of the crusades were the Banū Kilab in northern Syria, the Banū
Tayy in southern Syria and the Banū Kalb in central Syria (around Damascus). 17
As recently as 1993 the French geographer and historian Xavier de Planhol
described the ‘population bédouine’ as ‘fondamentalement agressive’ and concluded
that ‘les nomades constituent une immense force de frappe potentielle pour qui saura
les grouper et les discipliner.’ 18 But the terms Bedouin, Saracen and Turk were (and
are) easily mixed up. Syriac writers customarily described Saracen rulers as Bedouins,
and Ellenblum has proposed the possibility that local Christians in general may have
‘regarded the Muslim occupation as equivalent to a nomadic incursion’. 19 The
anonymous author of the Tractatus de locis et statu sancta terre ierosolimitane,
writing in 1168-87, and the anonymous author of the Historia Peregrinorum,
42 Schenk
recalling an event that occurred on 25 April 1190, both mention ‘Bedouin’
marauders who were commonly known as ‘free-roaming’ or ‘wild’ Turks (silvestres
Turci, agrestes Turci), and who in the case of the Historia Peregrinorum seem to
have been Turcoman tribesmen living in the mountains of Anatolia. 20 Possessing
neither homeland nor home and forever living together in campsites in tents made of
hides, the ‘Bedouins’ sought permission to graze their animals from Christians and
Saracens alike. In the eyes of the author of the Tractatus they were traitors
(proditores maximi) and thieves (latrones insignes) since they acted as friends and
brothers of the Christians one day, helping them to fight the Saracens, but aided the
Saracens the next if it seemed opportune to them, selling captured Christians to the
Saracens and Muslim captives to the Christians as they saw fit. 21 The author of the
Historia Peregrinorum recalled that ‘Bedouins’ (or ‘wild Turks’) descended ‘in
hordes’ from the mountains when the army of Frederic Barbarossa entered Anatolia.
‘[A]lways in arms and willing and ready to fight’, they were brave (or foolish) enough
to provoke a professional Frankish army. 22 Writing in the 1280s, the Dominican
Bourchard of Mount Sion made the distinction between the ‘Saracens’, whom he
remembered as sinful yet hospitable, courteous and kind, and the ‘Medianites, who
are now called “Bedouins” or “Turcoman”’. They were herdsmen with no fixed
dwellings and, in Bourchard’s memory, ‘exceedingly warlike’. 23 The important
distinction made here is between a friendly sedentary population (Saracens) within
the kingdom of Jerusalem and a war prone nomad one (Turcoman nomads and
Bedouins). William of Tyre, however, writing a century before Bourchard, singled
out the ‘Saracens’ within the borders as having posed the greatest threat to the
nascent crusader kingdom, but he seems to have used the term as a general
denominator. Recalling the first year of the kingdom he informs the reader:
The cities which had come under our power were but few, and these
were so situated in the midst of the enemy that the Christians could not
pass from one to another, when necessity required, without great danger.
The entire country surrounding their possessions was inhabited by
infidel Saracens, who were most cruel enemies of our people. These
were all the more dangerous because they were close at hand, for no pest
can more effectively do harm than an enemy at one’s very doors. Any
Christian who walked along the highway without taking due precaution
was liable to be killed by the Saracens, or seized and handed over as a
slave to the enemy. Moreover, they refused to cultivate the fields, in
order that our people might suffer from hunger. In fact, they preferred to
Nomadic Violence 43
endure famine themselves rather than furnish anything to the Christians,
whom they looked upon as enemies. 24
The research undertaken by Ellenblum in particular has helped a great deal to
clarify the rather bleak picture described by William of Tyre. 25 But one should note
that the ‘enemy at the door’ to which William was referring was not lurking in Cairo
or Damascus. The threat was created by Muslims within the realm whom William,
writing with hindsight, suspected of collaboration with the enemy outside. The danger
they posed was twofold. On the one hand, and this accusation would have been
directed against the sedentary population, they were capable of putting the economic
survival of the Frankish lords at risk by refusing to produce their crops. On the other,
and this would have applied to the nomadic population, they were prone to thievery
and murder and therefore posed an imminent physical threat to the Christians. 26 To
continue with William,
Nor was it on the highways alone that danger was feared. Even within the
city walls, in the very houses, there was scarcely a place where one could
rest in security. For the inhabitants were few and scattered, and the
ruinous state of the walls left every place exposed to the enemy. Thieves
made stealthy inroads by night. They broke into the deserted cities,
whose few inhabitants were scattered apart, and overpowered many in
their own houses. 27
William of Tyre does not specify the identity or origin of these marauders but
considering the long history of alleged Bedouin violence in Syria it is reasonable to
assume that they may have included Bedouins from the old Arab tribes who were
reported to have harassed the population of Rome’s Syrian provinces in the sixth
century, who had swept in waves over Syria during the early Islamic conquest and
again in the tenth and early thirteenth centuries -– penetrating deep into the
countryside, devastating large parts of southern Syria and dominating northern Syria
in the late tenth and eleventh century -- and of whom some had stayed behind,
merged with the local tribes and established themselves in the hills and mountains of
Syria, whence they were accused of habitually harassing travellers on nearby roads. 28
That the threat posed by bands of marauders was taken seriously by the early
crusader settlers can be seen by some of the barons’ brutal reactions to it. Baldwin of
Edessa smoked hundreds of suspected robbers out of their mountain caves near the
Jaffa--Jerusalem road, and in 1139 Thierry of Flanders, taking the army of Jerusalem
with him, successfully besieged the most notorious of the fortified castles in the
44 Schenk
mountains of Gilead, which was used by bandits as a rallying point for raids into the
plains of Judea and Transjordan. 29
The areas of Nazareth and Baysan were described as two particularly lawless
regions by Abbot Daniel, who visited both places in the early years of the twelfth
century. 30 But the lawlessness he describes was indicative of a larger problem, which
affected the former Roman province of Samaria, north of Jerusalem, in which the
town of Baysan was situated, and the eastern part of Galilee on which the town of
Nazareth bordered. Ellenblum’s own archaeological survey of the Latin Kingdom
illustrates that throughout the crusader period Eastern Galilee was almost completely
void of Frankish rural sites and no attempts seem to have been made by the Frankish
regime to collect tithes or conduct other administrative activities in this region. 31
Violent resistance against foreign government had a long tradition in particular in the
region around Baniyas, which under Byzantine rule had developed into a hotbed of
Jihad activity. Holy warriors were recruited partly from among the refugees who had
fled the cities conquered by Byzantium and partly among Arab Bedouin tribes, who,
attracted by the promise of pillage and by jihadist ideologues, would often travel long
distances to partake in raiding campaigns against Byzantium, thus provoking
Constantinople to retaliate brutally. 32
According to Ellenblum, it was not only Latins, but Jews and Muslims living in
Eastern Galilee who could be ‘harassed by nomads and criminal elements’.33 Nomads
in general and Bedouins in particular made up a large proportion of the population.
They were particularly numerous in the Golan, the Hawran and the Jordan valley,
and thus in areas from which much of the violence in Eastern Galilee spread.
William of Tyre, reporting on the construction of the fortress of Vadum Jacob on the
eastern fringe of Galilee in 1178, relates how even then bands of robbers (latrunculi)
occupied villages and were terrorizing the inhabitants of Eastern Galilee without any
notable interference. Eventually their holdout at modern Peqi‘in was overthrown by
King Baldwin, although a large number of robbers allegedly managed to escape to
Damascus whence they continued their attacks. 34
If a seigniorial government existed in Eastern Galilee at the time but was too
weak to subjugate the robbers and suppress the violence relying on its own resources,
this may help to explain why the castle of Vadum Jacob, built on the request of the
Templars, was deemed necessary.35 The district of Nazareth, which lay at the
northern fringe of Eastern Galilee, would have faced many of the same problems
caused by a largely nomadic population under weak governmental oversight.
The case for Baysan in Central Samaria seems to have been similar. Situated in
a region that had violently resisted Byzantine settlement, Baysan, which Tancred had
occupied in 1099 and which fell to Saladin in 1183, was the only mixed community
Nomadic Violence 45
in a twenty-kilometres radius of land that the Byzantine repression of previous revolts
had otherwise left ‘almost totally deserted’. 36 The plains of Baysan provided excellent
pastures for Bedouins who would enter the kingdom in large numbers to graze their
animals. Albert of Aachen, who once was considered a poor source but now is
thought to have relied on the eyewitness testimony of returning crusaders, reports that
in spring 1119,
…certain Saracens from the realm of Arabia, and certain people of the race
of the Idumei, whom people nowadays call Bedouins, were leading out of
their land and region herds of camels, over thirty thousand, ten thousand
oxen, flocks of sheep, and countless thousands of goats, and driving them
to the pastures on the flanks of the realm of Damascus, where they
attacked the ample grass by permission and consent of the prince of the
land of Damascus, in return for an agreed sum of bezants which the lord
of the land himself was going to receive from them. With so many
thousands of beast, over four thousand cavalry and infantry went along to
guard the herds, from the lands of Egypt, Arabia, and the Bedouins, taking
bow and quiver, lance and sword, and a great abundance of food supplies. 37
According to Albert, attracted by the abundance of spoil a band of sixty
Frankish infantrymen and hundred and sixty cavalry under the command of Joscelin
of Courtenay, lord of Tiberias, and William and Geoffrey of Bures, attacked the
unassuming herdsmen but were soundly defeated by a much stronger Bedouin
guard. 38 A Frankish retaliation army under the command of the king soon arrived to
confront the Bedouins, but intimidated by the nearby presence of Damascus the king
instead agreed to settle the issue with a payment of blood-money and a tax from the
Bedouins.
The demand of blood-money and taxes may serve as evidence for the king’s
royal authority over the Bedouins as his special subjects (on which more later). More
than anything else, however, in this case it exemplified the power vacuum that existed
in Eastern Galilee and Central Samaria at the time, as well as the amount of authority
that Damascus still managed to hold in the region of Baniyas. The political situation
not only encouraged Bedouin tribesmen eager to use the region’s fertile pastures to
rely on support from the rulers of Damascus (who, albeit suspicious of them, had a
history of employing Bedouins and Turcomans for their causes); 39 it also may have
tempted bands of brigands to terrorize the outskirts of Frankish towns with large
Muslim populations such as Nablus. 40
46 Schenk
The direct correlation between weak governance, an increasing nomadization
(or Bedouinisation) of the population and brigandism, which has been pointed out by
Ellenblum, is well proven, as is the correlation between internal political conflict and
an increase in Bedouin violence.41 One consequence of the process of nomadization
that most regions in the Near East underwent in the eleventh and twelfth centuries 42
was that disputes swept easily across political boundaries, which made them difficult
to solve with the rigid tools of Frankish government. The Frankish laws were hardly
suited to deal with a population of itinerant tribesmen, who, unlike sedentary
peasants, entered and exited the spheres of authority of different political and
ecclesiastical bodies, Muslim and Christian alike, at apparently free will.
Although their itinerant life rendered the nomads suspicious in the eyes of
many Christian and Muslim rulers – the anonymous thirteenth century author of the
Memoria Terre Sancte and Saladin were equally wary of the notorious disloyalty of
Bedouin auxiliaries and their habit of salvaging from the defeat of others – it also
made them potentially very valuable sources for information and helpful allies. 43 To
keep them in check and in order to profit from their natural dependence on pastures
the Bedouins were given special legal status in the kingdom of Jerusalem in that they
were put under the special protection and jurisdiction of the king as the only legal
body who could, in theory, exercise overall authority over them in all parts of the
realm and to whom they paid tributes in return for grazing rights. 44 To facilitate the
government of Bedouin tribes the royal administration made attempts to collect data
on the names, sizes (measured in ‘tents’) and locations of individual tribes within the
kingdom with the aim in view to create assessable financial values in form of taxes
which could be transferred, bought and sold. That the administration had some
success in this endeavour is obvious from the fact that in 1138 the canons of the Holy
Sepulchre received the village of Thecuas with its land, peasants and the right to
collect tribute from Bedouin tribes grazing their livestock there, and that some time
before 1161 Queen Melisende enfeoffed the viscounts of Nablus with a Bedouin
tribe consisting of 103 individually named and listed families (tents). 45
In practice, however, the Bedouins, much like the Turcomans, 46 remained
almost impossible to control and were always likely to switch sides if the opportunity
for more lucrative alliances presented themselves. Travelling in large treks guarded by
armed warriors their numbers and aggressive nature marked them as potentially
destabilizing factors wherever they went. The Bedouins from the Banū Khālid and
Banū Rabi’ah branches of the Tayy confederation who arrived at Baysan in 1119 to
graze their animals may not have counted four thousand warriors, as Albert of
Aachen would like us to believe, but they brought more than enough men-at-arms
with them to defeat a high profile Frankish raiding party. 47 Twelve years earlier King
Nomadic Violence 47
Baldwin had to abandon his plan of a full-front assault with sixty knights on a
merchant caravan from Egypt heading for Tyre, Sidon, Beirut and Damascus for
similar reasons. 48 Baysan and the plains surrounding it were too close to Damascus
for the Frankish king to exercise his authority effectively. It was to Damascus that the
Bedouins had paid tribute in exchange for grazing rights and it was the military might
of Damascus that prevented the king and his army from retaliating against them.
In the light of all this, the question arises how the experience of insecurity, or
helplessness, that prevailed in some parts of the kingdom and that was stirred further
by a high level of brigand activity in regions with large nomadic populations relates to
the spread of the military orders in the kingdom before the rise of Saladin.
The pressing problem to which the military orders presented a solution at the
time when the kingdom experienced only limited external threat was twofold. On the
one hand increased efforts needed to be undertaken to secure pilgrim sites and major
routes of communication and traffic from marauders; on the other a way had to be
found to deal with the more general – and underlying – problem of handling,
controlling and monitoring the Bedouin tribes and other nomads who lived in the
kingdom or were traversing through it.
The first point is well researched. The Order of St John had its origin in a
pilgrim hospital and, after the Templars had set the example, it seemed for a
substantial fraction of the brothers like a logical step that the Order should add
military service to its work for the frail and poor.49 The Order of the Temple was
founded later but for the explicit purpose to ease the plight of pilgrims by use of the
sword. Very likely, its foundation was an immediate reaction to the major onslaught
on a large pilgrim caravan near the river Jordan that had occurred at Easter 1119 and
for which Albert of Aachen held Saracens from Tyre and Ascalon responsible. On
that day, three hundred pilgrims had been killed and sixty captured. 50
For a while the Templars seem to have organised their patrols of the pilgrim
sites from Jerusalem, but within a few decades they and the Hospitallers had set up
strongholds across the country. With the notable exception of Gaza, given to the
Templars after its restoration by King Baldwin IV 1149-50 but before 1153, and
Bethgibelin, built and given to the Hospitallers already in 1136, which both were
intended to effectively stave off the Fatimid garrison of Ascalon, most military
fortifications which the two military orders had created or taken over in the Latin
kingdom before c.1168 fulfilled the double purpose of guarding a pilgrim site and
protecting the road leading to, from or through it. 51 Along the road to the River
Jordan the Templars had manned strongholds at the red cistern (a location associated
with the parable of the Good Samaritan) 52 and on Mount Qarantene, the site of
48 Schenk
Christ’s temptation in the wilderness. 53 The fortified tower of Beit Jubr at-Tahtani was
another likely early Templar fortification along the road to the river Jordan, 54 as was
the small Templar stronghold on the river bank at the Place of Baptism itself. 55 Near
Emmaus, where Christ had appeared to two of his disciples, stood the Templar castle
of Latrun (Toron des Chevaliers), which kept watch over the road from Jaffa to
Jerusalem. 56 Le Saffran (Shafa ‘Amr), which the Templars held since before 1172,
allowed them to control the road from Nazareth to Acre and also to guard the
birthplace of saints James and John. 57 At Haifa they fortified St Margaret’s Castle on
Mount Carmel, thus offering protection to the visitors to the cave of the prophet
Elijah, further down the mountain. 58 The Hospitallers held Belmont (Belveir) near
Emmaus on the road from Jaffa to Jerusalem59 and by 1168 had fortified Aqua Bella
(Khirbat ‘Iqbala) on the same road opposite Emmaus. 60
Most of these early fortifications were firmly situated within the perceived
borders of the kingdom of Jerusalem. But by 1170 the military orders in the kingdom
of Jerusalem had started establishing new castles and towers in regions that were at
the fringes of Frankish authority, notably Eastern Galilee and the valley of the River
Jordan, which were more than ever exposed to Muslim attacks since Nūr ad-Dīn had
taken Baniyas and destroyed the castle at Châteauneuf in 1164.61 Even the idea of a
Hospitaller lordship in Upper Egypt had at one point been on the table. 62
There seem to be two reasons for this shift of emphasis from the centre to the
periphery and they are not mutually exclusive. On the one hand the military orders,
like the Frankish barons, needed to react to the increasing military pressure exercised
by Nūr al-Dīn and his allies on their defences; on the other, the orders were aware of
the need to consolidate Frankish authority in regions where it had been lacking and
where an uncontrolled influx of wandering tribesmen from neighbouring territories
was most likely to create a melange of people living within the kingdom whose
reaction to a new war could not be predicted. This was a justified concern and one
that was still voiced in the thirteenth century. According to the anonymous author of
the Memoria Terre Sancte the Bedouin and Turcomans on the borders of the
kingdom, but not only they, would always support the strongest power in the region
and would continue to be a threat to the kingdom unless they were guarded by a
strong force, such as might be provided by a military order. 63 Still in 1157 the
Hospitallers had recanted on their offer to help Humphrey of Toron fortify the city
of Baniyas, widely regarded as the ‘key to the kingdom of Jerusalem’, against Muslim
attacks after such an attack had promptly hit the Hospitallers’ supply train when it was
approaching the city. With many of the escorting knights and sergeants killed or
imprisoned and all supplies lost, the Hospitallers retreated from Banyias, ‘fearing the
cost of similar incidents’. 64 By 1172, however, they had fortified the castle of Belvoir
Nomadic Violence 49
high above the Jordan Valley and overlooking the road from Tiberias to Baysan and
two fords across the river south of the Sea of Galilee, 65 whereas the Templars had
established themselves at the castles of La Fève in the Jezreel valley and of Safad in
Eastern Galilee, where the influence of Damascus and Aleppo was still strong.
According to the German pilgrim Theoderich, writing in 1172, Belvoir was built to
defend the kingdom against the assaults of Nur al-Din and Safad to check the
incursions of the Turks; a similar purpose can be assumed for La Fève.66 Six years
after Theoderich completed his travel account the Templars gained royal permission
from Baldwin IV to build a further castle at the strategically important Vadum Jacob,
which they completed within six months, fortified with a strong garrison, and stocked
with weapons and supplies. 67
To consolidate Frankish authority effectively, these forward castles functioned
as centres of a new administration that extended its power into the landscape and
exerted its authority over the nomadic tribes by binding them to the land or the law.
They were also effective instruments to repel bands of bandits and marauders who,
according to William of Tyre, were still roaming freely in the mountain ranges of
Upper Galilee at that time. 68 Moreover, just like the castles and fortified towers built
by the Romans six centuries earlier, castles like Safed allowed the occupant to watch
tribal movements, dispatch patrols and skirmishers and provide guards for caravans
and travellers if required. 69 The castles of the military orders were, in short, exactly
what Raymond Smail believed crusader castles to be: economic administrative centres
that allowed their owners or keepers to control and exploit the rural population, to
police the surrounding landscape and to control nomadic tribes. 70 Just how effectivly a
castle could order a landscape is illustrated in the thirteenth-century description of the
reconstruction of Castle Safad by the Templars in 1240-1. 71
Once completed the castle of Safad controlled the whole of Galilee, 260
villages in all, and provided protection for travellers and farmers between the Jordan
and Acre. 72 It served as a basis for attacks launched against Damascus, but also as a
deterrent against marauders, Turcomans as well as Bedouins, who terrorized the land
between Acre and Damascus. The robbers mentioned in the description of Bishop
Benedict’s second visit to Safed were very likely the same as the nomadic bands of
brigands who William of Tyre had described seventy years earlier as living
undisturbed in the centre of Galilee. 73 With the re-construction of Safad their terror
had abated. As a consequence many pilgrim sites in Eastern Galilee were again safely
accessible for pilgrims, for example the cistern in which Joseph was thrown by his
brothers; the city of Capernaum, home to the apostles Peter, Andrew, James and
John; the mountain near Tiberias where Jesus had fed the masses; the place near the
Sea of Galilee where Christ had revealed himself to his disciples; the place of the last
50 Schenk
supper; and Magdala, birth place of Mary Magdalene.74 It is reasonable to believe that
the threat that these bandit communities posed to villagers, travellers and pilgrim sites
and which the Templars were able to deter with the reconstruction of the castle in the
thirteenth century, was another motivation why the castle of Safad needed to be built
in the first place.
The Hospitaller castle of Belvoir would have made a similar impression on the
landscape. Like Safad or Crac des Chevaliers in the county of Tripoli (which,
according to Bourchard of Mont Sion, served as a deterrent to the Bedouins and
Turcomans inhabiting the plains surround it) 75 Belvoir was most powerful as an
instrument for governmental oversight. Moreover, it was an instrument to get a tighter
grip on the Bedouins, who, if they were local tribes, had until then been living under
royal and not a particular lordship’s protection, but who were also roaming outside
the perceived borders of the kingdom in great numbers. The right to charge them
pasture taxes and annual fees if they crossed into Frankish territory was a lucrative
financial asset which, however, also gave the recipient a duty to monitor them. The
Templars and Hospitallers took on these responsibilities after 1160 and probably
before. In November 1160 King Baldwin granted the Hospitallers legal possession
over fifteen Bedouin households (referred to as ‘tents’) who had never belonged to
him and whom the Hospitallers were free to draw from ‘wherever they can.’ These
households, it was agreed, should ‘serve the Hospital without hindrance’. 76 In 1179
the viscount of Nablus, whose lordship had suffered badly from nomad attacks, was
able to sell the Hospitallers an entire tribe of Bedouins, consisting of 105 tents. One
year later King Baldwin IV granted the Order the right to assemble another hundred
Bedouin households from outside the kingdom at Belvoir, thus empowering the
Order to make the families accountable for their actions. 77
The large scale sale and transfer of Bedouin households into the control of the
Hospitallers, and doubtless also into that of the Templars, occurred at a time of
heightened military activity between the kingdom of Jerusalem and its Muslim
neighbours. All economic considerations aside, given the reputation the Bedouins
enjoyed as perpetrators of violence and unrest these actions should also be regarded
as precautionary measures to draw them into the sphere of influence of the military
orders, who constituted the only institutions beside the king whose secular authority
transgressed seigniorial boundaries and who could thus exercise control over them
effectively. This benefited the Order’s primary task, which remained the protection of
pilgrims, who in the past had suffered from nomadic violence. In so doing, but more
so by establishing a network of strongholds along the roads and effecting
governmental control in the periphery and among the ethnic and social groups most
prone to seemingly erratic violence the Templars and the Hospitallers were essential
Nomadic Violence 51
in creating and maintaining a level of stability within hitherto neglected parts of the
kingdom that would have allowed other elements of statehood to emerge. In that the
military orders, until the rise of Saladin, were not so much a product of the period of
relative quietude and peace but important maintaining factors of it.
Notes
1
R. Ellenblum, Crusader Castles and Modern Histories (Cambridge, 2006).
Ibid., pp. 134-45.
3
R. Ellenblum, Frankish Rural Settlement in the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem (Cambridge, 1998),
in particular chapter seventeen: ‘The boundaries of Frankish settlement in western Galilee and
Samaria’, pp. 213-21.
4
Ellenblum, Crusader Castles, part iii: 'Geography of fear and the spatial distribution of Frankish
castles', pp. 105-86.
5
Ibid., pp. 149-64. Ellenblum then continues to relate the military history of the crusader kingdom
in the twelfth century to the chronology of castle building or re-fortification. Although the dates he
gives for a number of the castles are debatable, the results of his survey are interesting. In the initial
conquest stage twenty-one castles or cities were taken over by the Franks and another eight
established. During the second phase, when the kingdom was relatively peaceful, some ten castles
were built by 1124 and another forty-five by 1167. They were built mostly in relatively secure areas,
rather than in regions of military confrontation. Only during the third period, when the military
threat was growing and the military initiative began to pass to the Muslims, were castles in the
frontier regions constructed or refortified on a grander scale. See ibid., pp. 165-86.
6
As Martin Rheinheimer has demonstrated, for example, the period of expansion of the lordship
of Galilee ended in 1124 and was followed by four decades of frequent military action outside the
lordship but focusing on Baysan, and then, after the fall of Baysan in 1164, by a period of defensive
warfare conducted increasingly within the lordship of Galilee and characterised by the building of
additional fortifications. See M. Rheinheimer, Das Kreuzfahrerfürstentum Galiläa (Berlin, 1990),
pp. 83-91.
7
Albert of Aachen, Historia Ierosolimitana. History of the Journey to Jerusalem, ed. and trans. S.
Edgington (Oxford, 2007), book x:33-8, pp. 748-52; Fulcher of Chartres, Historia Hierosolymitana,
ed. H. Hagenmayer (Heidelberg, 1913), book ii, ch. xliv:11-12, pp. 572-3.
8
Ellenblum, Crusader Castles, pp. 155-6.
9
Nasir Khusraw, ‘A Journey through Syria and Palestine’, PPTS iv, pp. 13-14 (1047).
10
William of Tyre, Chronica, ed. R.B.C. Huygens (2 vols., Turnholt, 1998), book x:3, p. 462.
11
Peregrinationes tres: Saewulf, John of Würzburg, Theoderich, ed. R. B. C. Huygens, with a study
of the voyages of Saewulf by John H. Pryor (CCCM 139, Turnholt, 1994), 59-77, pp. 63-4; ‘The
Life and Journey of Daniel, Abbot of the Russian Land’, trans. W. F. Ryan, in: Jerusalem
Pilgrimage 1099 – 1185, ed. J. Wilkinson (The Hakluyt Society ser. 2:167, 1988), 120-71, pp. 126,
145, 162-3, 165; Ekkehardi Hierosolymita, ed. H. Hagenmeyer (Tübingen, 1877), p. 309.
12
See generally A. Davids, ‘Routes of pilgrimage’, East and West in the Crusader States: Context,
Contacts, Confrontations, ed. K. Cigaar, A. Davids, H. Theule (Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta,
Leuven, 1996), 81-103.
2
52 Schenk
13
See e.g. The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir for the Crusading Period from al al-Kamil fi'l-Ta'rikh, ed.
and trans. D.S. Richards (3 vols., Aldershot, 2006-08), vol. ii, pp. 136, 195, and generally A. R.
Lewis, Nomads and Crusaders A.D. 1000-1368 (Bloomington and Indianapolis, 1988, reprint
1991), pp. 95-6; N. A. Faris, ‘Arab Culture in the Twelfth Century’, A History of the Crusades, vol.
5: The Impact of the Crusades on the Near East, ed. N. P. Zacour, H. B. Hasard (Madison, Wisc.,
1985), 3-32, p. 6, and Barber, New Knighthood, pp. 5-6.
14
O. Schmitt, ‘Rome and the Bedouins of the Near East from 70 BC to 60 AD: 700 Years of
Confrontation and Coexistence’, Shifts and Drifts in Nomad-Sedentary Relations, ed. S. Leder, B.
Streck (Wiesbaden, 2005), 271-88, p. 276.
15
C. Hillenbrand, The Crusades. Islamic Perspectives (Edinburgh, 1999. Repr. 2006), pp. 441-2.
16
B. Hamilton, The Leper King and his Heirs: Baldwin IV and the Crusader Kingdom of
Jerusalem (Cambridge, 2000), pp. 79-80; B. Ulrich, ‘Bedouin’, The Crusades. An Encyclopedia,
vol. 1 (Santa Barbara, 2006), pp. 159-60.
17
Ulrich, ‘Bedouin’, p. 159; C. Picard, Le monde musulman du XIe au XVe siècle (Paris, 2000),
pp. 22, 34; C. Cahen, ‘Nomades et sédentaires dans le monde musulman du milieu du moyen âge’,
Islamic Civilisation, 950-1150, ed. D.S. Richards (London, 1973), 93-104, p. 97.
18
X. de Planhol, Les nations du prophète (Paris, 1993), p. 43.
19
Ellenblum, Frankish Rural Settlement, p. 246.
20
B. Kedar, ‘The Tractatus de locis et statu sancta terre ierosolimitane’, The Crusades and their
Sources, ed. J. France, W. G. Zajac (Aldershot, 1998), 111-33, p. 131 (and p. 120 for information
on the author); ‘Historia Peregrinorum’, Quellen zur Geschichte des Kreuzzuges Kaiser Friedrichs
I., ed. A. Chroust, MGH, Scriptores Rerum Germanicarum, 5 (Berlin, 1928), 116-72, pp. 155-6.
21
Kedar, ‘Tractatus’, p. 131: ‘De Bedewinis. Alii sunt Bedewini, homines agrestes, quos vulgus
silvestres Turcos appelat. Semper in campestribus habitantes, nullam habentes patriam neque
domum. Precudibus et cunctis animalibus abundant, que nunc in terra Christianorum nunc
Saracenorum accepta licencia pascuntur. Isti plurimi sunt et caprinis vestiuntur semper sub nudo
aere cubant, nisi nimia pluvia ingruente. Tentoria viribus prevalere adiuvant, proditores maximi,
latrones insignes. Pilleos rubeos portant et peplum circa pilleos circinatum. Quando nos
prevalemus adversus Saracenos, tunc fratres et amici nostri sunt. Si vero Saraceni prevaluerint tunc
ipsos adiuvant, furantes Christianos vendunt Saracenis, et similiter Saracenos Christianis. Fides
eorum nulla est nisi quam timor fecerit. Maometh de ipsis dicitur fuisse. Litteram habent
saraceniam sed valde corruptam.’
22
Historia Peregrinorum, pp. 155-6.
23
Bouchard of Mount Sion, ‘A description of the Holy Land’, ed. A. Stewart, PPTS xii:1, pp. 1056.
24
William of Tyre, Chronica, book ix: 19, p. 445, as translated by E. A. Babcock and A. C. Krey in
William of Tyre, A History of Deeds Done Beyond the Sea (New York, 1943), pp. 408-9. His view
would have been supported by the pilgrim Saewulf, who held ‘Saraceni’ responsible for the
devastation of Bethlehem and Nazareth. See Peregrinationes tres, pp. 71, 73-7.
25
Ellenblum, Frankish Rural Settlement, passim.
26
As Schmitt, ‘Rome and the Bedouins’, p. 271, has already pointed out, contemporary authors,
unlike modern-day anthropologists, did not distinguish between nomadism in its proper sense and,
for example, semi-nomadism, semi-sedentary pastoralism and herdsmen husbandry.
Nomadic Violence 53
27
William of Tyre, Chronica, book ix: 19, pp. 445-6, as translated in Babcock, Krey, A History of
Deeds, pp. 408-9.
K. Salibi, Syria under Islam. Empire on Trial, 634-1097 (Delmar, 1977), pp. 11-12; T. Bianquis,
Damas et la Syrie sous la domination fatimide (359-469/969-1076). Essai d’interprétation de
chroniques arabes médiévales (2 vols, Damascus, 1986-9), vol. ii, pp. 481-4.
William of Tyre, Chronica, book xv: 6, pp. 681-4.
28
29
30
See n. 12.
For the discussion of the spatial distribution of Frankish settlements in Eastern Galilee see in
particular Ellenblum, Frankish Rural Settlement, pp. 213-14.
32
Bianquis, Damas et la Syrie, vol. I, p. 7.
33
Ellenblum, Frankish Rural Settlement, p. 217.
34
According to William of Tyre, the robbers originally came ‘de partibus Damascenis’ and had
established their stronghold at Bacades in the ‘montes Acconensos’. William of Tyre, Chronica,
book xxi:25 (26), pp. 997-8 and Ellenblum, Frankish Rural Settlement, p. 217.
35
Ellenblum, Frankish Rural Settlement, pp. 217-19
36
Ibid., p. 225; D. Pringle, The Churches of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem. A Corpus. (4
vols., Cambridge, 1998-2007), vol. i, p. 93.
37
This is Susan Edgington’s translation of Albert of Aachen, Historia Ierosolimitana, book xii: 31,
pp. 874-5.
38
Albert’s numbers are certainly exaggerated. In early medieval times even larger Bedouin clans
seldom counted more than 500 warriors. See Schmitt, ‘Rome and the Bedouins’, pp. 283-4.
39
See e.g. N. Elisséeff, Nūr ad-Dīn, un grand prince musulman de Syrie au temps des croisades
(511-569H / 1118-1174) (3 vols., Damascus, 1967), vol. i, p. 341.
40
Evidence for a Muslim bandit assault on a village outside Nablus is recorded in Usama ibn
Munqidh, The Book of Contemplation. Islam and the Crusades, trans. P. M. Cobb (London, New
York, 2008), p. 151. Raids from Damascus were conducted in 1137 and 1184. See Pringle,
Crusader Churches, vol. ii, pp. 94-5.
41
Schmitt, ‘Rome and the Bedouins’, pp. 274-6; Cahen, ‘Nomades et sédentaires’, p. 98; Ellenblum,
Frankish Rural Settlement, pp. 268-70.
42
See e.g. C. Cahen, La Syrie du Nord à l’époque des Croisades (Paris, 1940), p. 192.
43
‘Memoria Terre Sancte’, ed. C. Kohler, ROL, x (1903–4), pp. 443–7 and also A. Leopold, How
to Recover the Holy Land (Aldershot, 2000), p. 174. Saladin was suspicious of the Bedouin tribes
of Transjordan and the Hijaz, and rightly so, after his defeat by the Frankish army at Mont Gisard
in 1177 it was the Bedouins of eastern Sinai who raided his base camp. See William of Tyre,
Chronica, book xi:23, p. 629 (for the raiding of his camp after the defeat at Mont Gisard) and M. C.
Lyons and D. E. P. Jackson, Saladin. The Politics of the Holy War (Cambridge, 1982), pp. 156-7.
For Bedouins fighting in Saladin’s army see e.g. Imad ad-Din al Isfahani, Conquête de la Syrie et de
la terre de Palestine par Saladin, trans. H. Massé (Paris, 1972), pp. 303, 330, 352-3, 387.
44
J. Prawer, Crusader Institutions (Oxford, 1980), p. 214.
45
Regesta regni Hierosolymitani 1097-1291, ed. R. Röhricht (2 vols., Innsbruck, 1893-1904), nos.
174 (1138), 562 (1178); Cartulaire général, vol. i, no 530 (1178). See also H. E. Mayer, Die
Kreuzfahrerherrschaft Montréal, pp. 198-200.
31
54 Schenk
46
Cahen, ‘An Introduction’, p. 9 describes the Turcomans of the eleventh century as ‘[u]sed to a
wandering life, impatient of all the restrictions of the central government and of the rights of private
property, still half savage and accustomed to pillage and bloodshed.’
47
This seems an incredibly high number of warriors (Albert of Aachen is notoriously unreliable on
numbers), considering that at least in the sixth century even larger Bedouin clans would seldom
have counted more than five hundred warriors. See Schmitt, ‘Rome and the Bedouins’, p. 284. The
identity of the Bedouins as members of the Banū Khālid is suggested in Rheinheimer, Das
Kreuzfahrerfürstentum Galiläa, p. 71.
48
Albert of Aachen, Historia Ierosolimitana, book x:36, pp. 751-2.
49
The foundation and eventual militarization of the Order of St John are discussed in R. Hiestand,
‘Die Anfänge der Johanniter’, Die Geistlichen Ritterorden Europas, ed. J. Fleckenstein, M.
Hellmann, Vorträge und Forschungen, 26 (Sigmaringen, 1980), 31-80.
50
Albert of Aachen, Historia Ierosolimitana, book xii:33, pp. 880-1.
51
For Gaza see William of Tyre, Chronica, book xx:20, p. 938, for Bethgibelin Cartulaire général
de l'Ordre des Hospitaliers de Saint- Jean de Jérusalem (1100-1310), ed. J. M. A. Delaville Le
Roulx (4 vols., Paris, 1894-1906), vol. i, no 116.
52
A. Boas, Archaeology of the Military Orders (Oxford, 2006), pp. 111-12
53
Theoderich noted in 1172 that ‘the crest of Mount Quarantana and its subterranean caves are full
of victuals and arms belonging to the Templars, who can have no stronger fortress or one better
suited for the annoyance of the infidels’. ‘Theoderich’ in: Peregrinationes tres, 143-97, pp. 176-8.
For the translation see Theoderich, Guide to the Holy Land, trans. A. Stewart (London, 1897, 2nd
ed. New York, 1986), chapter xx, p. 47.
54
Boas, Archaeology, pp. 102-3; Pringle, Crusader Churches, vol. i, pp. 101-2.
55
Boas, vol. i, p. 112.
56
Boas, pp. 101, 102, 103, 111, 114, 115, 116, 150, 151, 169, 179, 187, 221; Pringle, Crusader
Churches, vol. 2, pp. 5-9.
57
Boas, pp. 221, 252; Pringle, vol.ii, pp. 301-4.
58
Boas, p. 254; Pringle, vol. ii, p. 248.
59
Boas, p. 228; Pringle, vol. i, pp. 119-20.
60
Boas, p. 224; Pringle, vol. i, pp. 239-50
61
Rheinheimer, Das Kreuzfahrerfürstentum Galiläa, p. 76.
62
Regesta, nos. 452, 466. See also R.C. Smail, Crusading Warfare, 1097-1193 (2nd ed., Cambridge,
1995), p. 96 and H. Prutz, Die Geistlichen Ritterorden. Ihre Stellung zur kirchlichen, politischen,
gesellschaftlichen und wirtschaftlichen Entwicklung des Mittelalters (Berlin, 1908), pp. 50-1.
63
‘Memoria Terre Sancte’, ed. C. Kohler, ROL, 10 (1903– 4), pp. 443–7. See also Leopold, How
to Recover, p. 174.
64
William of Tyre, Chronica, book 18:12, p. 826-8; Riley-Smith, Order of St. John, pp. 72-3;
Ellenblum, Crusader Castles, pp. 142-3.
65
Boas, Archaeology, p. 229; Rheinheimer, Das Kreuzfahrerfürstentum Galiläa, pp. 76-7.
66
Peregrinatores Tres, p. 189, and also Ellenblum, Crusader Castles, p. 179.
67
William of Tyre, Chronica, book xxi:25 (26), pp. 996-7; xxi:28 (29), pp. 1001-2; xxi:29 (30), pp.
1003-4. The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir, vol. ii, pp. 264-6; R. Röhricht, Geschichte des Königreichs
Jerusalem (1100-1291) (Innsbruck, 1898), p. 359; Rheinheimer, Das Kreuzfahrerfürstentum
Nomadic Violence 55
Galiläa, p. 78. For a Muslim account of the siege of Vadum Jacob see Abu Shama, ‘Le livre des
deux jardins’, RHC Or. iv, pp. 203-11;
William of Tyre, Chronica, book xxi: 25 (26), pp. 997-8.
B. Isaac, The Limits of Empire: The Roman Army in the East (Oxford, 1992), pp. 186-213, as
68
69
discussed in Schmitt, ‘Rome and the Bedouins’, p. 285.
70
Smail, Crusading Warfare, pp. 60-2.
71
R. B. C. Huygens, De constructione castri Saphet: Construction et fonctions d’un château fort
franc en Terre Sainte (Amsterdam, Oxford, New York, 1981) (= Koninklijke Nederlandse
Akademie van Wetenschappen, Afdeling Letterkunde, Verhandelingen, Nieuwe Reeks, 111).
72
Ellenblum, Frankish Rural Settlement, pp. 215-17.
73
De constructione castri Saphet, pp. 42-3; William of Tyre, Chronica, book xiv: 8, pp. 639-40. See
also Ellenblum, Frankish Rural Settlement, pp. 218-19.
74
De constructione castri Saphet, p. 43.
75
Bouchard of Mount Sion, ‘A description of the holy land’, p. 18 (Midianites settled in the territory
east of the Jordan (Tobit 1:14) and also much of the area east of the Dead Sea (later occupied by
Ammonites, Moabites and Edomites), and southward through the desert wilderness of the Arabah).
76
Cartulaire général, vol. i, no 296.
77
Cartulaire général, vol. i, no 582. The Templars also owned Bedouins, as we know from a
settlement of disputes between the Templars and the Hospitallers from the same year, which ended
the quarrel that had arisen over an attack of the Templars’ Bedouins by the turcopoles of Gibelin
(Beit Dschiblin). Ibid., no 558.