As stated in a previous Battlefield Report, I will occasionally review bits and pieces of Templar history. The Templars rarely chronicled any aspect of their events, so these accounts are scarce, having been recorded by others who witnessed the events.
———–
Of all the Templar crusade battles, one stands out for its historic accuracy because of multiple eyewitness observers who recorded the event, among them councilors to Louis IX, Jean de Joinville and Matthew Paris. Through their combined efforts, we receive a detailed view of the event, of the courage and level-headedness of the Templars and their singular obedience, courage, and loyal deference to command authority, even feckless commands, even in the face of assured slaughter.
The Seventh Crusade was launched in response to the 15 July 1244 loss of Jerusalem to the Khoresmians – Turkic mercenaries displaced by the Mongols who were hired by Egypt. After looting the Holy City, the Khoresmians joined Egyptian forces and defeated the Franks of Acre, including both the Patriarch and Constable of Jerusalem, the crusading orders as well as the Transjordanian forces of mounted Bedouin, and their Damascene allies, at La Forbie, a small village northeast of Gaza, 17-18 October 1244. Of the troops of the knightly orders, only 33 Templars, 27 Hospitallers, and three Teutonic Knights survived this engagement.
Six years later, the Battle of Mansourah, fought in 1250 during the Seventh Crusade, saw King Louis IX’s forces clash with Egyptian troops near the town of Mansourah after crossing a fortuitously placed ford to attack, as is discussed here in more detail.
Seeds of the battle began in the royal courts of France. King Louis IX, recovering from malaria, vowed to God to personally lead his troops against the invaders if he regained his health. By 1249, his recovery was complete and his royal crusade was underway.
In June 1249, his French-led forces sailed from Cyprus and captured Damietta, Egypt. Rejecting the Egyptian sultan’s offer to trade Jerusalem for Damietta, King Louis followed his arrogant and entitled brother Robert, Count of Artois, who argued for marching south to seize Cairo, Egypt’s heart, saying, “To kill a snake, you crush its head first.”
During mid-February, 1250, facing fierce resistance including Greek fire barrages, the King’s army reached the Damietta Branch of the Nile River near Mansourah, some 75 miles northeast of Cairo. Mansourah was itself a significant and fortified settlement in the Ayyubid Sultanate, near the Mediterranean coast and the city of Damietta.
Crossing the river proved challenging. A local Bedouin, paid 500 bezants as an informant, revealed a strategically placed ford that would act as a crossing. King Louis ordered the Duke of Burgundy and other overseas nobles to guard the camp while he and his brothers—Charles of Anjou, Robert of Artois, and Alphonse of Toulouse—led an attack.
At dawn on Shrove Tuesday, 25 February 1250, – the final day before Lent, they crossed on horseback, finding the passage usable despite slippery, muddy banks that dragged down some knights, including the standard-bearer Jean d’Orleans. Nobleman Knight, Jean de Joinville then redirected his men to safer ground.
On the far bank, they faced 300 enemy cavalry, who fled the French forces that seemed to appear out of nowhere. The Templars were designated to lead the charge, with Robert, Count of Artois’ division following. But Robert, driven by a sickening arrogance that blinded him to any effectual strategy, ignored the plan and raced ahead of the Templars without King Louis’ knowledge, chasing the Turks in a bid to claim all glory for himself.
The Templars, upset at losing their vanguard role, demanded to take the lead as King Louis had originally intended. But, Robert’s deaf aide, Foucalt de Merle, holding his horse’s bridle, didn’t hear their pleas and shouted, “Chase them!” Fearing shame, the Templars pursued the Turks through Mansourah and into the fields toward Cairo. Robert’s men racing ahead of them, swept up by his reckless ambition, stormed the town, killing many inhabitants. But the locals fought back fiercely, pelting them with stones and dropping heavy beams from rooftops to block narrow streets, forcing a chaotic retreat.
Robert thereupon met with the Templars, Hospitallers, and William Longespee, the English contingent’s leader, to regroup. His arrogance flared again as he pushed for an immediate resumption of the attack, convinced the enemy was retreating and that King Louis’ approaching army would rescue them if needed.
Templar Grand Master, Guillaume de Sonnac, urged caution, noting the knights’ exhaustion, wounds, and thirst in the desert heat. He warned the increasingly arrogant Robert, his egotism running amok, that the enemy would certainly rally under the sultan, vastly outnumbering their small, tired group and come back upon them with a vengeance.
Robert, his overbearing pride drowning out reason, thereupon accused the Templars of betraying the Crusades. William Longespee, English nobleman and knight who led the English contingent, advised Robert to heed Sonnac’s greater experience, but Robert, shouting and cursing, insulted the English, mocking their courage. To which William retorted, “Robert, I’ll face any danger. You’ll see me in the fight, where you won’t dare follow.” Stung, the Templars and Hospitallers reluctantly joined the charge, while Robert, too overcome by his ego to even alert King Louis of his on-the-fly plan, led the advance.
The Muslims, exploiting the Christians’ disunity, surrounded Robert’s group, cutting off their escape to the river. But many Templars were killed, with the Order losing 280 mounted warriors, according to the Grand Master’s later report to Joinville.
Robert, Count of Artois’, finally regretting his inflated conceit in the face of imminent death, called to British Knight William Longespee, “God’s against us. We can’t hold. Flee while you can.”
But William held firm while Robert himself fled in dread.
In his panic, Robert ran to the river, tried to swim in full armor, and sank like a knight-shaped anchor, his heavy pride quite literally dragging him under.
The French, losing hope, retreated in disorder. William fought until unhorsed. He died in the confused battle along with many English soldiers loyal to him.
Only two Templars and one Hospitaller survived, as Matthew Paris later recorded, “…with divine wrath sparing no notable figure.”
Robert, Count of Artois’ death drew no pity and despite his royal blood, his arrogance set a ruinous example and cost the lives of many brave knights.
Following the battle, King Louis’s forces faced increasing pressure. The Egyptians, emboldened by their victory at Mansourah, cut off the crusaders’ supply lines and launched counterattacks. By April 1250, King Louis attempted to retreat from Mansourah to Damietta but was surrounded and captured by the Egyptian forces at the Battle of Fariskur on April 6, 1250, along with much of his army. Joinville, who was present, recounts how King Louis, weakened by dysentery and refusing to abandon his men, surrendered to avoid further slaughter.
Louis was held captive in Mansourah under the Ayyubid Sultan Turanshah. He negotiated his release by agreeing to pay a ransom of 400,000 livres tournois and to surrender Damietta to the Egyptians. After his release in May 1250, King Louis remained in the Holy Land, spending several years strengthening the residual crusader strongholds, such as Acre, Jaffa, and Caesarea, before returning to France in 1254. Thus, while Louis survived the Battle of Mansourah, its failure led to his capture and a significant blow to the Seventh Crusade’s objectives.
French King Louis IX (1226-1270) was followed by King Philip III (1278-1285) and finally by King Philip IV (1285-1314). It was King Philip IV who destroyed the Templars by perjury and deceit in 1307.
A Legacy of Faith
Our forefathers saw no need to chronicle their exploits. We have this exceedingly rare account because of non-Templars who recorded their observations. But our Templar brothers were always guided by the navigation star of their lives, Psalm 115:1 which informed their every decision:
“Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo da gloriam, super misericordia tua et veritate tua.”
“Not to us, Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory, for your mercy and your truth’s sake.”
We often fail to quote the last part of verse 1, our own 21st century motto: “…for your mercy and your truth’s sake.”
The original Templar monks deliberately left themselves out of their exploits. “Not to us, Lord, not to us…” And gave all honor to God, “but to Your name give glory…” knowing that the truth of what they accomplished and what they were selflessly called to do would supernaturally survive without having ever recorded any of it, because it was all accomplished “…for Your mercy and Your truth’s sake.“
And that is precisely how our forefathers became the legends that they are today, not by passing down their discipline and courage in writing, but by allowing God Himself to leave their legacy of perfect faith for all to wonder at and to follow for all the ages that lay ahead.