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Saturday, February 28, 2015

The Knights Templar



Oh, What a Knight!


I am pleased to share that The Patriot Spy, the first book in the Yankee Doodle Spies series, has been submitted for an award in the Best History category by the Knights Templar! Although it is a historical novel, The Patriot Spy accurately depicts the events during the British invasion of Staten Island, Long Island, and New York Island in the summer of 1776. It accomplishes this by incorporating fictional plots and characters into the story of the campaign and the people involved. I am truly honored by this recognition.


Patriot Spy First Edition Cover



Who are these Knights?



For many years, when I heard Templar, I thought of Roger Moore’s old TV series, The Saint. Moore played a mysterious figure involved in crime, espionage, and other mayhem—like Jeremiah Creed. Like many religious orders from the Middle Ages, the Knights Templar are shrouded in mystery, myth, and misunderstanding. That makes them all the more fascinating. Or one could imagine the villainous Knight Templar Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert in Sir Walter Scott’s grand historical novel, Ivanhoe. More recently, I got hooked on the Arn movie/mini-series, loosely based on a devout Swedish noble unfairly banished to serve as a Templar knight in the Latin Kingdom of Palestine.


Long ago, in a far-off Galaxy



Hugues de Pavens
The Middle East might as well have been a distant galaxy for most Europeans in the twelfth century. Time and space had different meanings back then, when few peasants left the farm where they were born, and very few of the upper classes left the shire. Then, there was a call to action, and an entire continent seemed to turn east. 

The Templars were founded in the Holy Land in 1119. It began with a small, idealistic group of knights led by Hugues de Payens, who offered their services to protect pilgrims traveling to the Holy Places. They organized themselves into a religious community, sworn to protect Christian pilgrims visiting Jerusalem and the holy sites. They were called the Poor Knights of Christ of the Temple of Solomon, or simply the Knights of the Temple. 

The original purpose of the crusades was just that—protecting pilgrims and holy sites from the depredations of the Seljuk Turks, whose conquest of Palestine from the Arabs resulted in taxes and hostilities against Christians.



It then took a very different turn. After capturing Jerusalem in 1099, the Crusaders aimed to establish a permanent presence to protect their conquests. The original Templars played a small role initially, but they served as an inspiring symbol for Europe’s Christians. They used the al-Aqsa Mosque as their base of operations, which was believed to be the site of Solomon’s Temple. Important to their movement, they gained papal recognition as a military order in 1129 from Pope Honorius II. Hugues de Payens was appointed as the first Master of the Temple. 

It was the great monk Bernard de Clairvaux who understood the historical importance when he wrote in "De laude novae militae" (“In Praise of a New Knighthood”) that a new kind of order had been formed, made up of laymen who combined knightly and monastic life. These soldier monks vowed to fight to protect Christian interests. They took the usual monastic vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, but also made a fourth key promise—to defend the holy places from the infidel. Over time, the order expanded its reach and soon gained lands in Europe to recruit men and gather funds.


Follow the Money


And in the end, it mostly came down to money. Wars cost money, and the Templars went about raising it in ways that were unique for Christians of that era. Some of their European houses operated as financial hubs, loaning money and collecting fees. This served as an early form of international banking in medieval Europe, long before modern banks and finance systems. The Templars' military strength and extensive network offered a safe place for kings and nobles to store their wealth, with London and Paris becoming the primary centers. Over time, this created a dependence on the Order that, in the years that followed, would cause some in power to grow resentful.


Military, religious, and financial power became
hallmarks of the Order


Faith and Power


The Order reported only to the Pope. This, along with their increasing wealth, enabled the Templars to build an effective fighting force, a naval fleet, and a system of fortresses in Palestine and Syria. The Templars helped finance the Reconquista against the Saracens in Spain, supported by the secular Spanish and Portuguese. 

By the 13th century, the Order numbered 7000 members, including knights, sergeants-at-arms, non-military sergeants, brothers, and priests. Their network comprised around 870 castles, preceptories, and convents spread throughout most of Christian Europe, Palestine, and Syria. Due to their bravery, discipline, and resolve, they bore much of the burden in defending the Latin Kingdoms. In fact, they were called “lions in battle.”  

During the Crusades, thousands of Templars sacrificed their lives in battles like Cresson, Hattin, La Forbie, and Mansurah. However, Jerusalem was eventually lost to Saladin in 1187. When the Latin kingdoms fell again to the Arabs, the Order’s military importance declined as their retreat followed the retreat of Christendom, first to Cyprus and then even further west.



There is no denying the courage and devotion of the Templars in battle


A Rapid Descent


By the fourteenth century, the Crusading era and its spirit were nearly gone. With its decline, secular rulers in Europe started to assert their power against the growing influence of the Pope—at least in terms of authority for now. A transnational entity like the Order, one of the world’s earliest non-governmental organizations (NGOs), threatened this secular rise. 

More importantly, the Order held the wealth that secular kings needed to fund their armies and control their vassals. Philip IV of France was the first king to challenge the Order’s power. On Oct. 12, 1307, the order’s Grand Master, Jacques de Molay, was in Paris to attend the funeral of Catherine, wife of Charles of Valois, brother of King Philip IV, "the Fair," of France.

De Molay was surprised when Philip's agents arrested him on Friday, October 13, 1307. Meanwhile, Philip also launched nationwide raids on Templar properties and arrested hundreds of the Order’s members. The travesty of justice that would follow gives rise to the modern myth of bad luck on Friday the 13th. 

Philip charged that the Templars were no longer dedicated to defending the Holy Land but were apostates. He accused them of denying Christ, desecrating crucifixes, and engaging in indecent acts such as male kissing and compulsory sodomy. Furthermore, his agents accused them of worshiping idols. At first, people outside France disbelieved the charges against the Order. 

The Pope himself was outraged. After all, the Order operated under his authority, and he was unaware of the charges. Yet, at first glance, the allegations seemed justified. Under heinous torture and threats, many Templars confessed to some of the alleged misdeeds.


Trial? Or something else? de Molay under investigation... and worse


De Molay himself was compelled to make public admissions under the watchful eye of selected theologians. The Pope attempted to take control of the trial but was unsuccessful. A desperate defense of the Order by two of its priest-lawyers also failed. The Pope did not believe the accusations, especially regarding a “secret protocol” that called for many of the heinous acts listed in the charges. However, the forced confessions left him with little options to act. 

Notably, in those pre-waterboarding days, interrogations involved all kinds of brutal torture and mutilation. Predictably, most caved into their tormentors' demands. Under pressure, at the Council of Vienna in 1312, the pontiff suppressed the order but did not hold it criminally liable. 

Nearly two centuries of service to the Christian faith were thrown to the wind in a swirl of hysteria and conspiracy. After recanting their confessions (asserting no crimes occurred), De Molay and Geoffrey of Charney, the preceptor of Normandy, were burned to death for heresy two years later in Paris. They were followed by about 50 other members who recanted but were condemned as “relapsed heretics” and executed. Few historians today dispute that the charges by Phillip were concocted and the confessions obtained by torture.



Execution of De Molay

Loss and legend: those Boogie Knights


The property and wealth of the order were seized by secular authorities or handed over to other orders, except for those members of the Order who resided in Portugal. The King of Portugal uniquely offered the knights his protection. Those knights not executed by Philip were merged into other orders. Philip’s outrageous acts might have ended the Order and relegated it to history, but… the Templars’ dramatic demise fueled the rumor mill. 

One legend claims that in 1314, Templar knowledge was secretly passed on to future generations. This led to the belief that the Order continued "underground" in the years that followed, with various theories and speculations. Some believed they had chapters in Scotland, America (before Columbus), aided in forming what is now known as Switzerland, and were responsible for the birth of Freemasonry, among other ideas. The Templars and the mystery surrounding them became perfect material for novelists, filmmakers, and even some historians. 

For example, Sir Walter Scott, an early English-language historical novelist, set the template for fiction and drama with his 1819 novel Ivanhoe. In his version of the myth, the villainous Templar Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert and his order drifted away from their original purpose. Many other novels linked evil deeds and secret plots to the Templars. This was followed by numerous books, periodicals, films, and TV shows exploring the myth. Even computer games tapped into the legacy and mystery. 

Throughout it all, many conspiracy stories emerged, and even the Nazis became involved in some. Sadly, over time, many have accepted such embellishments as fact. Who doesn't love conspiracy theories wrapped in the mists of history? However, there’s no solid evidence that the Order survived in the form it once held at its peak.


The Modern Knights Templar


Today, the spirit of the Poor Knights of Christ of the Temple of Solomon is carried on by dedicated men of faith and action in the form of the Sovereign Military Order of the Temple of Jerusalem. This ecumenical Christian and chivalric charitable order does not claim a direct lineage to the original Knights of the Temple. However, they have adopted two of the original Templar missions: protecting Christians at risk, especially in the Holy Land and the Middle East, and ensuring the road to Jerusalem remains open to all. They show devotion to God by promoting love and respect. Their efforts include fostering understanding among all religions, helping pilgrims, and maintaining the Christian presence in the Holy Land.

 

They also work to protect the poor and sick, promote justice, and defend free speech. (The original order’s demise was based on a travesty of justice and suppression of free speech). They uphold the ideals of chivalry and preserve the monuments, archives, and history of the Knights Templar. In the United States, the order is organized into Priories, Preceptories, and Commanderies across many states and the District of Columbia. I am honored that the Priory of St. Patrick (Hudson Valley) in New York submitted The Patriot Spy for the 2015 History Book Award.

 

The US order is affiliated with the international order, the Ordo Supremus Militaris Templi Hierosolymitani (The Sovereign Military Order of the Temple of Jerusalem). It is the only international Templar order recognized by the United Nations as a non-governmental organization with special consultative status. From the way things look today, the order still has a lot of work ahead.









Saturday, February 7, 2015

The Bravest Son of Liberty?

A Boy from Jamaica




Colonial Jamaica, Long Island was verdant farmland



Jamaica, Long Island, that is. Brigadier General Marinus Willett may well be one of the greatest and most accomplished New Yorkers ever. He was a descendant of Thomas Willett, who arrived in New York on the ship The Lion in 1632. The elder Willett served as the first English Mayor of New York City after New Amsterdam fell to the British in 1664. Marinus' father was Edward Willett, a farmer who lived in Jamaica, Long Island (now Queens). It's hard to believe that the mean streets people see on the way to JFK Airport once were some of the lushest farmland in America. But Edward was a man of letters and business—he made his living as a school teacher and a tavern keeper.


Soldier of the King



Marinus Willett: Citizen Soldier


As with many American leaders of the Revolutionary War, young Marinus first gained experience fighting for the King as a Loyal and dedicated subject. He served in the militia during the French and Indian War, where he was commissioned as a Subaltern in a New York regiment led by Oliver DeLancey Sr. DeLancey was among the wealthiest New Yorkers, and his family would remain staunchly Loyal a generation later. The regiment participated in General James Abercrombie's 1758 expedition to Fort Ticonderoga. Later, Marinus Willett served with the regiment as part of John Bradstreet's forces at the Battle of Fort Frontenac. He fell ill during the campaign and remained at Fort Stanwix until he recovered. While there, he assisted in upgrading the fort, which, as his career later developed, seems almost providential.

Son of Liberty


New York, not Boston style. Willett settled in New York City after the war, and although he worked as a cabinetmaker, he took an interest in politics as tensions with Britain began to simmer. He became the community organizer of his time, which is to say, a rabble-rouser and street brawler. After the news of Lexington and Concord, he helped plan a raid on the old arsenal in New York and took weapons for the cause. On June 6, 1775, the British decided to evacuate New York City. Willett led an effort that prevented the soldiers from taking spare arms with them. On July 20, 1775, he and other members of the Sons of Liberty procured a sloop and captured a British storehouse at Turtle Bay. This cove on the East River was named by Dutch settlers because of its resemblance to a knife. The word "Deutal" (Turtle) is Dutch for "knife." Ironically, Turtle Bay is near where the British landed when they recaptured Manhattan a year later.

Patriot Soldier

Clearly, Marinus Willett proved himself during wartime, as many of our military legends have. He began as a captain in the 1st New York Regiment, and almost right away, the regiment participated in General Richard Montgomery's invasion of Canada in 1775, one of the most brutal episodes of the entire war. He fought at the Battle of Quebec in December of that year and temporarily commanded Fort St. John during the American occupation. However, he returned to New York City with the regiment when enlistments expired, arriving in March. During the British offensive to retake the city in 1776, he had lost a captain's commission in the 4th New York Regiment (possibly in a card game) but continued to serve as a militiaman. 


Colonel Marinus Willett during
the War for Independence


But experience and connections do matter, especially during wartime. In November 1776, he was appointed Lieutenant Colonel of the 3rd New York Regiment, commanded by Peter Gansevoort. He spent the winter recruiting before leading the regiment north. In March 1777, he took command of Fort Constitution in the New York Highlands, where he successfully attacked a blockhouse and burned a British force of one hundred soldiers. Later that year, he helped MacDougall defend Peekskill against a British raid, before being assigned to Fort Stanwix on the Mohawk River.


Drums Along the Mohawk


Stanwix was the anchor of a line of American defenses stretching from Albany to Oneida Lake. This was the western frontier with the Iroquois and a strategic position guarding the portage between Oneida Lake and the Mohawk River. General Washington recognized its importance and had the old French and Indian War post rebuilt and garrisoned. Willett worked tirelessly to prepare Fort Stanwix (also known as Fort Schuyler) for the inevitable attack. It arrived in the form of a British force led by Colonel Barry St. Leger, who laid siege to Stanwix on August 3, 1777. St. Leger made the customary demand for surrender.  


Herkimer was wounded at Oriskany


But Willet refused. The defenders hoisted a makeshift Stars and Stripes in defiance of the more than one thousand British, Loyalists, and Iroquois. Word arrived on the fifth that General Nicholas Herkimer and the Tryon County Militia were marching to relieve the fort. On August 6th, the defenders made a sortie to distract the besiegers, with the signal being the sound of three guns. But when Willett led his troops out of the fort, they found the enemy camp deserted. The force of Loyalists and Indians had gone east to Oriskany, where they ambushed Herkimer. The British Regulars, Loyalists, and Indian Allies returned from that vicious ambush under the cypress trees to find Willet had ransacked and looted their camp of supplies and munitions with his sortie. Willett was later presented with a sword from the Continental Congress for this exploit.

Fort Stanwix


Still, the besiegers kept demanding Willet surrender. Willet personally met with the emissaries. But when he learned of Herkimer's defeat at Oriskany, he decided to slip out on his own and seek help from Fort Dayton further down the Mohawk Valley. There, he discovered that Major General Schuyler had already sent a second relief force under Benedict Arnold's command. Willett then traveled to Albany, where he met with Arnold, and afterward returned to Fort Dayton with Arnold's army. On the return trip, Willett stopped to visit Herkimer. Almost two weeks after the Battle of Oriskany, Herkimer had his leg amputated on August 19th but appeared in good spirits. However, the next day, Herkimer died from infection and blood loss.

Countering Espionage?


In a surprising connection to Yankee Doodle Spies, Willett appears to have played a small role in counterespionage efforts. On August 20th, he served as a judge at Loyalist Captain Walter Butler’s trial. Butler was the son of John Butler, who commanded Butler’s Rangers, a prominent Loyalist unit both feared and despised by Patriots on the New York frontier. Continental Army troops had captured the younger Butler while he was trying to recruit rangers at Shoemaker Tavern in German Flatts, New York. Butler was tried as a spy. Willett's court found him guilty and sentenced him to death. The condemned Butler was sent to Albany to await execution, but after a few months, he escaped and returned to Canada.

Back to the Continental Army, then back to New York's Frontier, then...


Willett seemed to be everywhere at times. In June 1778, he was granted leave from the Northern Department to join Washington's Main Continental Army, which was preparing to attack General Clinton's British forces moving from Philadelphia to New York. There, he served as an aide to General Charles Scott and participated in the Battle of Monmouth. Scott's Brigade was part of the vanguard in that epic clash.

By the summer of 1779, Willett had rejoined the 3rd New York Regiment during the Sullivan Campaign against the Iroquois. This campaign was a brutal, destructive effort that foreshadowed later Indian warfare. Willett later spent some time in the New York Highlands before returning to the main army at Morristown. In January, he took part in a raid on Staten Island.

In early 1780, he was appointed commander of the 5th New York Regiment, a unit severely weakened by battles in the New York Highlands. An enthusiastic advocate, he became involved in voicing grievances on behalf of unpaid troops. He also found time for leisure.

In 1780, while based at Fort Plain, New York, he met and had an affair with an attractive widow named Mrs. Seeber. The affair resulted in the birth of a son, Marinus Willett Seeber. Willett openly acknowledged the boy's paternity, supporting him and ensuring he received an education.

In January 1781, Willett returned home as the New York Line was reduced to just two regiments. By April, he was back as a colonel of the New York militia, engaging in numerous actions. His regiment defended the Mohawk Valley and the areas around Albany. That summer, he led the militia in the Battle of Sharon Springs, attacking Indians and Loyalists. 

In October, he commanded the militia at the Battle of Johnstown. Afterward, he pursued the retreating enemy through an increasingly cold month. A forced march in snowshoes during a heavy snowstorm brought Willett's militia close to the Loyalists, who escaped under cover of the swirling snow. Ironically, the 

Post War: Politico Peacemaker Peace Officer


I might need to write another blog about Marinus Willett's post-war adventures. His later career is hard to believe. At the end of the war, Willett helped establish the Society of the Cincinnati, a controversial order of former American and French officers from the Revolution. He opened a store on Water Street in New York City. 

In 1793, his first wife, Mary, died. He soon remarried. His new wife, Susannah Vardle, was “active” in New York society, but her vivacity proved more than he could handle, and they divorced in 1797. In post-war politics, Willett became an Anti-Federalist under George Clinton and served in the New York State Assembly. He served as Sheriff of New York County (also known as Manhattan) for several years and helped put down Shay's Rebellion in 1787. 

By 1788, he was again aligned with Clinton in fighting against the Constitution—yes, that Constitution. When it finally passed, he continued working with others to repeal or amend it. Despite his anti-Federalist stance, Willett was sent by President Washington to persuade the Creeks to come to New York (then the nation's capital). This led to the Treaty of New York, the first of many treaties that would not bode well for the Indians. He later served again as sheriff of New York County. 

When war broke out against the Indians in the Northwest Territory (1792), Willett was offered a general's commission. He declined, telling President Washington that he did not support war with the Indians. Willett also turned down a later offer to serve as a peace envoy to them. It’s only possible to speculate that his experiences during Sullivan’s campaign influenced his views on America’s Indian policies.



Creek Indian Leaders in New York City


Going Strong in the New Century



So strong was his character that in 1799, Willett married young Margaret Bancker. He was 59, and she was only 24, but they had four children—three sons and a daughter. Willett, the former Liberty Boy, believed in grassroots democracy. During one particularly hot gubernatorial race, he actually fought a duel with a member of the opposing party—fortunately, neither was hurt. 

At the turn of the new century, he played a role in building some of the fortifications protecting New York City. In 1808, he replaced populist DeWitt Clinton as Mayor of New York City, becoming its 48th mayor, and in 1811, he ran unsuccessfully for Lieutenant Governor of New York. He supported the War of 1812, but now, in his 70s, he only gave patriotic speeches to support it.  


De Witt Clinton


In 1824, he served as a presidential elector during the bitter election that elected John Quincy Adams as president. The highly accomplished Marinus Willett died at his home on August 22, 1830, a few weeks after suffering a stroke. Ironically, this was exactly 53 years after the lifting of the siege of Fort Stanwix. 

The ninety-year-old First Patriot was laid to rest in the churchyard of Trinity Church, at the corner of Broadway and Wall Street in New York City. His funeral was attended by 10,000 mourners — about 5% of the city’s population at that time. Not too bad for a cabinet maker from Jamaica.



Marinus Willett in later life