It is not our present purpose to set before the reader any account of those achievements of the order in the Holy Land, which properly belong to the wars of the Crusades, and cannot be separated from the history of that period: but, before taking up the narrative from the day when, driven from the walls of Acre, the shattered remnant of its heroic legions was tossing in a single bark on the waters of the Levant, as yet without a home in Europe,—a few remarks seem necessary, both to explain its constitution as a religious body, and its position at the moment when our story of its fortunes begins.
At the period when the military orders first sprang into existence, the road to the Holy Land was, as every one knows, the highway of Europe; and year by year crowds of pilgrims of all ranks came flocking to the Holy City, encountering innumerable perils on the way, and often arriving at their journey’s end in a state of extreme suffering and destitution. Now the object of the Order of St. John may very briefly be described if we say, that its members took on themselves the office of administering the hospitality of Christ: “Servants of the poor of Christ” was the title that they assumed; and this name of Christ’s poor was applied indiscriminately to all pilgrims and crusaders.
The ceremonies attendant on the reception of a knight had a peculiar significance, and strikingly illustrate the spirit of the order. The postulant presented himself with a lighted taper in his hand, and carrying his naked sword to be blessed by the priest. He had previously prepared himself by a general confession and the reception of holy communion. After blessing the sword, the priest returned it to him with these words: “Receive this holy sword in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, amen; and use it for thy own defence, and that of the Church of God, to the confusion of the enemies of Jesus Christ and of the Christian faith, and take heed that no human frailty move thee to strike any man with it unjustly.” Then he replaced it in the sheath, the priest saying as he girded himself: “Gird thyself with the sword of Jesus Christ; and remember that it is not with the sword, but with faith, that the saints have conquered kingdoms.” The knight then once more drew his sword, whilst these words were addressed to him: “Let the brilliancy of this sword represent to thee the brightness of faith; let its point signify hope, and its hilt charity. Use it for the Catholic faith, for justice, and for the consolation of widows and orphans: for this is the true faith and justification of a Christian knight.” Then he brandished it thrice in the name of the Holy Trinity, and the brethren proceeded to give him his golden spurs, saying: “Seest thou these spurs? They signify that as the horse fears them when he swerves from his duty, so shouldst thou fear to depart from thy post or from thy vows.” Then the mantle was thrown over him, and as they pointed to the cross of eight points embroidered on the left side, they said: “We wear this white cross as a sign of purity; wear it also within thy heart as well as outwardly, and keep it without soil or stain. The eight points are the signs of the eight beatitudes, which thou must ever preserve: viz. 1. spiritual joy; 2. to live without malice; 3. to weep over thy sins; 4. to humble thyself to those who injure thee; 5. to love justice; 6. to be merciful; 7. to be sincere and pure of heart; and 8. to suffer persecution.” Then he kissed the cross, and the mantle was fastened, whilst the ministering knight continued, “Take this cross and mantle in the name of the Holy Trinity, for the repose and salvation of thy soul, the defence of the Catholic faith, and the honour of our Lord Jesus Christ; and I place it on the left side near thy heart, that thou mayst love it, and that thy right hand may defend it, charging thee never to abandon it, since it is the standard of our holy faith. Shouldst thou ever desert the standard, and fly when combating the enemies of Jesus Christ, thou wilt be stripped of this holy sign, according to the statutes of the order, as having broken the vow thou hast taken, and shalt be cut off from our body as an unsound member.”
On the mantle were embroidered all the instruments of the Passion; each of them was pointed out to the new-made knight, with the words: “In order that thou mayst put all thy hope in the passion of Jesus Christ, behold the cord whereby He was bound; see, too, His crown of thorns; this is the column to which He was tied; this is the lance which pierced His side; this is the sponge with which He was drenched with gall; these are the whips that scourged Him; and this the cross on which He suffered. Receive, therefore, the yoke of the Lord, for it is easy and light, and will give rest to thy soul; and I tie this cord about thy neck in pledge of the servitude thou hast promised. We offer thee nothing but bread and water, a simple habit and of little worth. We give thee and thy parents and relatives a share in the good works performed by the order, and by our brethren now and hereafter, throughout the whole world. Amen.” He was then received to the kiss of peace.
We find no mention of serving the sick in the formula of the vow, but the obligation of hospitality was indispensable. The grand master even took the title of the “guardian of the poor of Christ,” and the knights were wont (according to Michaud) to call the poor and sick “our masters.” We find various notices of their even undertaking the charge of deserted children,—a charge which seems to speak volumes for the loving tenderness of these soldiers of the faith. The succour of the sick formed, therefore, but one portion of the duties embraced by their rule under the name of hospitality; these guests of Christ had to be protected on their journey, as well as guarded and entertained on their arrival; and thus the military defence of the Holy City itself came naturally to be first among the acts of hospitality to which the order devoted itself, and which included at the same time the tending of the sick, the care of orphan children, the entertainment of strangers, the ransom of captives, and the daily clothing and support of the vast multitudes whom every day brought to the gates of their “Xenodochia,” as the large hospital of the order was styled.
A chronicler, writing in the year 1150, and describing what he had himself seen in his youth, says, that you might behold all these offices of charity going on at the same time: the knights mounting their horses to ride out to battle; the pilgrims crowding to the halls of the hospital; and the infirmary full of sick and wounded Christians, who were served and tended with the utmost care. The necessary expenses of so vast an undertaking readily account for the large endowments granted to the order in every Christian country; their and revenues were not held as furnishing the means of luxury to themselves, but were the funds ungrudgingly contributed by Christendom for the support of her pilgrims, and the defence of the sepulchre of her Lord; and thus the knights were made the holders and administrators of a mighty trust of charity.
To carry out the full design of their foundation, they extended their views far beyond the territory of Jerusalem; hospitals were founded in all the principal maritime states of Europe, which were considered as affiliated to the mother-house, where pilgrims were received and helped forward on their journey, and furnished with escorts and protection in times of danger. These houses afterwards became the commanderies of the order, and had, of course, their own communities of knights; for all did not reside at the principal seat of government, though, as we shall afterwards find, they were liable to be summoned thither at any moment, either to assist at elections, or to reinforce the troops actually engaged in war.
In these hospitals the knights led a strict community life, much of their time being given to active works of charity; a circumstance to which is doubtless owing the superiority which the order of St. John always preserved over that of the Templars as a religious body; for by their peculiar constitution, the military spirit could never become exclusive among them, but was always tempered and restrained by their obligation to the duties of Christian hospitality.
St. Bernard, in his “Exhortation to the Knights of the Temple,” has left us a picture of a military religious order, whose original was doubtless in part taken from the houses of the Hospitallers, who preceded the Templars by some years in their foundation. “They live,” he says, “in a happy yet frugal manner, having neither wives nor children; and calling nothing their own—not even their own wills: they are never idle; but when not actually marching to the field against the infidels, they mend their arms or the harness of their horses, or engage in various pious exercises under the orders of their chief. Never does an insolent word, or the least murmur, or immoderate laughter, pass without severe correction. They detest all games of chance, and never engage in the chase, or in useless visits; they avoid with horror shows and buffoonery, together with songs and conversation of a light or dangerous character; they are little studious of their dress; their faces are brown with exposure to the sun, and their aspect is stern and severe. When the hour of combat approaches, they arm themselves with faith within and with steel without,—no useless ornament glitters on their armour or that of their horses; their arms are their only decoration, and they use them valiantly in the greatest dangers, without fearing either the numbers or the strength of the barbarians, for their confidence is in the God of Armies; and in fighting for His cause they seek either certain victory or a holy and honourable death.”