Traitor or Tragic Figure? Raymond de Tripoli
Dr. Helena Schrader
Raymond of
Tripoli, the most powerful baron in the Kingdom of Jerusalem in the last
quarter of the 12th century, was a controversial figure in his own lifetime and remains so today. His
independent truce with Saladin in 1186 threatened the very existence of the
kingdom at a time when it was surrounded by enemies, and the Templar Grand Master
accused him of conspiring with Saladin for a Saracen victory at the Battle of Hattin.
In short, Tripoli has been blamed for nothing short of the disaster at Hattin and
the loss of the Holy Land to Saladin. Yet, later historians such as Sir Stephen
Runciman, have seen in him a voice of reason, compromise and tolerance in
positive contrast to the fanaticism of the Templars and men such as Reynald de Chatillon. Tripoli
was the inspiration for Ridley Scott’s “Tiberius” in the Hollywood film “The
Kingdom of Heaven.”
While
the Grand
Master’s accusations can largely be dismissed as self-serving (the two
men
detested one another), and Scott’s portrayal is far from fact, even the
most
reliable and credible chronicler of the Kingdom of Jerusalem in this
period,
William Archbishop of Tyre, has left an ambiguous image. On the whole
the
Archbishop of Tyre portrays Tripoli in a positive light, a good
administrator of the kingdom as regent, and an effective diplomat. Yet
he also off-handedly
suggests that Tripoli was plotting a coup against Baldwin IV in 1180.
So who was
Raymond of Tripoli?
The County of
Tripoli was created after the liberation of Jerusalem in 1099 by Raymond Count of
Toulouse, one of the most important leaders of the First Crusade. Toulouse was
widely believed to have coveted the crown of Jerusalem and when it fell to
Godfrey de Bouillon instead, he set about conquering his own kingdom eventually
capturing the entire coastal area between the Kingdom of Jerusalem and the
Principality of Antioch. The County of Tripoli thus connected Jerusalem to the other two crusader states and gave the Latins control of the shore of the Eastern Mediterranean. Although de jure autonomous,
in reality the County of Tripoli did not have the resources to defend itself
and so it was always quasi-dependent on its larger, more prosperous neighbors,
Antioch and Jerusalem. In return, the Counts of Tripoli usually brought their
knights, turcopoles and sergeants to the feudal muster of Jerusalem.
Krak de Cheveliers today.
In 1174, however,
King Amalric died suddenly, leaving his 13 year old son Baldwin as his
heir. As the closest male relative of
the young king, Raymond of Tripoli was chosen as regent, although not immediately.
William of Tyre describes him as follows:
He
was a slight-built, thin man. He was not very tall and he had dark skin. He had
straight hair of medium color and piercing eyes. He carried himself stiffly. He
had an orderly mind, was cautious, but acted with vigor.
Contemporary Arab
chronicles noted he was highly intelligent, and this was borne out by his
sophisticated diplomatic policies in the coming 15 years.
Shortly after
becoming regent, Raymond also married for the first time, taking to wife the
greatest heiress in the Kingdom, Eschiva, Princess
of Galilee. She was a widow
with four still young sons by her previous marriage. William of Tyre
explicitly states
it was a happy marriage and that Tripoli was on excellent terms with his
step-sons. More important, however, the marriage made Tripoli the
greatest
magnate in the realm, and he commanded the largest contingent of troops
to the feudal levy, owing 200 knights to the crown. Thus, even after his
regency ended when Baldwin IV came of age in 1176, he remained a
powerful figure inside the Kingdom of Jerusalem as well as in his own
right as
Count of Tripoli.
Because William of Tyre is
considered such a knowledgeable insider and sober historian, most modern
historians accept this version uncritically. I find it flawed in many ways.
First, if Tripoli had been intent on power, he was in a far better position to seize
it while still regent. Secondly, Tyre himself admits that the trio of lords came to
Jerusalem as if to attend Easter Mass at the Holy Sepulcher, and when they
found Sibylla already married they went away peaceably without any fuss whatsoever — which hardly sounds
like the behavior of men intent on a coup d’etat. Most important, Sibylla’s
behavior from this point until her death ten years later was that of a woman
passionately in love with her husband. Had she in fact been married in haste
against her will to a man far beneath her station by a panicked brother, she
would probably have been resentful and receptive to the idea of setting the
unwanted husband aside the minute her brother changed his mind and wanted Guy
removed from the succession. Instead, she resisted vehemently, and later went
to great lengths to get her husband crowned king despite the opposition of the
entire High Court.
Meanwhile,
Baldwin IV was getting weaker. He briefly made Guy his regent in the hope of
being able to retire from the world and prepare to face God, but Guy was such
an unmitigated disaster that he took the reins of government back into his
decaying hands. He then took the precaution of having his nephew (Sibylla’s son
by William de Montferrat) crowned co-king as Baldwin V, and the High Court
(i.e. his peers) selected Raymond of Tripoli to be regent after Baldwin IV’s
death. The latter occurred in 1185, and Raymond duly became regent of Jerusalem
a second time. He explicitly refused to be the guardian of the young king,
however, arguing that if anything happened to the boy he would be accused of
have done away with him.
Raymond’s refusal to pay homage to Guy de Lusignan was completely comprehensible under the circumstances. His separate peace Saladin, on the other hand, was just as clearly treason because it endangered not just the usurper Guy but every man, woman and child in the crusader states.
In his defense, Tripoli soon saw the error of his ways. In May 1187 a Saracen “reconnaissance force” requested a safe-conduct through Tripoli's territory of Galilee, and Tripoli felt compelled to grant it because of his treaty with Saladin. This force proceeded to slaughter a much smaller Christian force that had the audacity to attack it. The attack was led by the Grand Master of the Knights Templar, who was one of only three Templars to escape the debacle. The sight of Templar heads carried on the tips of Saracen lances so distressed Raymond that he heeded the pleas of the Baron of Ibelin to make peace with Guy de Lusignan. He did homage to the usurper as his king, and received the kiss of peace from Guy.
The problem was
that while Raymond’s action (and the abrogation of his treaty with Saladin)
healed the fracture of the kingdom, it did not turn Guy de Lusignan into a
competent leader. Raymond of Tripoli dutifully brought his troops to the feudal
muster called by Lusignan in late June 1187, and he followed Lusignan’s orders,
even though he vehemently disagreed with him. The catastrophe of Hattin was not
of Raymond’s making; it was Guy de Lusignan and Grand Master of the Temple
between them who had engineered the unnecessary defeat. (See Hattin.)
Trapped on the
Horns of Hattin, Raymond of Tripoli led a successful charge through the Saracen
lines. There is nothing even faintly cowardly or treacherous about this action.
It was the most effective tactic the Franks had against the Saracens — the
charge of massed heavy cavalry. It was a tactic Richard the Lionheart used to
win the Battle of Arsuf. It was not the charge that discredited Tripoli, but the fact that
so few men broke out with him, and apparently no infantry. But that was hardly
Tripoli’s fault. He spearheaded the attack with is knights. It was the duty of
the King to reinforce his shock-troops. Something Guy de Lusignan singularly
failed to do.
So the Kingdom of
Jerusalem was lost, and Raymond of Tripoli retreated to his own county to die
within a few months, by all accounts a broken man.
In summary,
Raymond of Tripoli was a highly intelligent, well-educated and competent man. As
regent and Count of Tripoli he ruled prudently and effectively. Yet he
was
condemned to watch as a parvenu usurper led the crusader states to
avoidable ruin. It is hardly any wonder that he harbored hopes of
seizing the throne himself, when the alternative candidate, as history
was to show, was so
totally unsuited to wear a crown. If Tripoli was a traitor, it was for
the
right reasons: to save the kingdom from destruction. For me his more a
tragic
figure than a traitorous one.