The Battle of Montgisard sits in that rare category of medieval battles that should not have happened, and absolutely should not have been won by the side that prevailed. A teenage king suffering from leprosy led a badly outnumbered army into open battle against the most formidable commander of the age. Against every sensible expectation, the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem smashed Saladin’s field army and lived to fight another day.
As a historian, I have always had a soft spot for Montgisard. It is messy, audacious, and slightly embarrassing for the victor’s enemies. Medieval warfare was often about logistics and patience. Montgisard was about nerve.
Strategic Background
By 1177, the balance of power in the Levant was shifting decisively. Saladin had unified Egypt and Syria under the Ayyubid banner and was methodically tightening the noose around the Crusader states. His aim was not just territorial expansion but the eventual destruction of the Kingdom of Jerusalem.

The kingdom itself was fragile. Baldwin IV of Jerusalem, king since childhood, was already visibly affected by leprosy. His condition limited his physical endurance but not his political authority or determination. Internally, the kingdom was divided by factional rivalries. Militarily, it was overstretched.
Saladin believed the moment was right. In late 1177 he launched a large-scale raid from Egypt, pushing north through the coastal plain. His forces pillaged freely, expecting little resistance. Jerusalem appeared exposed, its field army scattered and undermanned.
This confidence would prove costly.
Commanders and Leadership

Saladin commanded one of the most experienced armies in the Near East. His reputation for discipline, operational patience, and personal restraint was already well established. Yet Montgisard shows that even careful commanders can misjudge timing and terrain.
Baldwin IV, by contrast, had something to prove. Contemporary sources often stress his youth and illness, but they also highlight his resolve. He did not hesitate when presented with an opportunity to strike a dispersed enemy. As a leader, he understood that caution would mean annihilation.
Baldwin was supported by senior nobles including Raynald of Châtillon and Balian of Ibelin. These were hard men, used to improvisation, and capable of violence without hesitation. Montgisard suited them perfectly.
Forces and Troop Composition
Saladin’s army was large by Crusader standards, likely numbering between 20,000 and 26,000 men. It consisted primarily of cavalry supported by infantry, including Sudanese foot soldiers and archers. Crucially, many units were spread out for foraging and raiding rather than concentrated for battle.
The Crusader army was tiny in comparison. Estimates suggest around 500 knights and perhaps 3,000 to 4,000 infantry. This included levies, mounted sergeants, and a contingent of the Knights Templar.
In raw numbers, this should have been a massacre. Medieval warfare, however, was rarely decided by arithmetic alone.
Arms and Armour
The Crusader knights were equipped for shock combat. Their equipment represented the peak of Western heavy cavalry warfare in the late twelfth century.
Typical Crusader arms and armour included:
- Mail hauberks with coifs, offering full torso and neck protection
- Kite shields transitioning toward early heater forms
- Long cavalry lances designed for couched charges
- One-handed swords suited for close combat once formations broke
Saladin’s cavalry relied on mobility and missile fire. Ayyubid horsemen favoured:
- Composite bows for mounted archery
- Light to medium armour allowing rapid movement
- Curved sabres and straight swords for pursuit and skirmishing
At Montgisard, the mismatch was not technological but situational. Heavy cavalry is devastating when it hits a disorganised enemy. Saladin’s army was precisely that.
The Battle Unfolds

The Crusaders caught Saladin near Montgisard, close to Ramla. The Muslim army was strung out and unprepared for a pitched engagement. Baldwin ordered an immediate attack.
The charge was decisive. Crusader cavalry smashed into the Ayyubid centre before it could fully form. Panic spread quickly. Units attempted to regroup but were overwhelmed by the momentum of the assault.
Saladin himself narrowly escaped capture. His personal guard fought fiercely to extract him from the chaos, but the army disintegrated around them. The pursuit was brutal. Crusader forces harried the fleeing enemy for miles.
As battles go, Montgisard was short, violent, and utterly one-sided once the initial blow landed.
Casualties and Immediate Aftermath
Ayyubid losses were severe. Contemporary chroniclers describe thousands killed, including senior officers. Supplies, equipment, and banners were captured. Saladin’s aura of invincibility took a visible dent.
Crusader casualties were comparatively light, though exact figures are unknown. Given the scale of the engagement, their survival borders on miraculous.
Politically, the victory stabilised the Kingdom of Jerusalem for several years. It bought time, restored confidence, and forced Saladin to reassess his approach. Militarily, it reinforced the enduring power of disciplined heavy cavalry when used aggressively.
Contemporary Quotes and Medieval Voices
One of the reasons Montgisard still resonates is that contemporaries struggled to explain it. The outcome clashed with expectations on both sides, and the written record carries a mix of awe, discomfort, and quiet embarrassment.
Christian chroniclers framed the victory as providential, though even they seemed surprised by how decisively events unfolded. William of Tyre, who knew Baldwin IV of Jerusalem personally, described the moment with careful restraint rather than triumphal excess:
“The king, though weakened in body, was strong in spirit, and trusting not in numbers but in God, he led his men against the enemy.”
It is telling that William emphasises spirit over strength. He knew the numbers did not make sense. Medieval writers often padded victories with exaggeration, yet here the tone feels almost defensive, as if the author expects disbelief.
Muslim sources are more circumspect. Later biographers of Saladin do not deny the defeat, but they soften it by stressing chance and dispersion rather than tactical failure. Baha ad-Din ibn Shaddad, writing years later, noted:
“The army was scattered in pursuit of supplies, and before order could be restored, calamity struck.”
This phrasing matters. “Calamity” implies an external misfortune rather than poor command. Saladin’s reputation was already being curated, even in defeat.
Another Muslim chronicler, Ibn al-Athir, was more blunt, though still careful not to damage Saladin’s standing:
“The Franks fell upon them suddenly, and the Muslims were struck with confusion, so that none could make a stand.”
Confusion, not cowardice. Suddenness, not incompetence. These are not excuses so much as explanations shaped for an audience that expected Saladin to win.
What strikes me most, reading these accounts side by side, is how little triumph there is on either side. The Christians credit God more than generalship. The Muslims blame circumstance more than leadership. Montgisard left everyone slightly uneasy.
That, perhaps, is its most honest legacy. The battle reminded contemporaries that war was not a tidy contest of virtue or numbers. It was unpredictable, brutal, and occasionally humiliating for those who thought they had already won.
Archaeology and Sources
Montgisard has left little in the way of physical archaeology. The exact battlefield location remains debated, though it is generally placed near Ramla. Like many medieval engagements, its legacy survives primarily through written sources.
Christian chroniclers emphasised divine favour and Baldwin’s courage. Muslim accounts focused on misfortune and logistical overreach rather than incompetence. Reading both together paints a more convincing picture: an army caught at the worst possible moment by an opponent willing to gamble everything.
Why Montgisard resonates today
Montgisard matters because it disrupts neat historical narratives. Saladin was not always unstoppable. Crusader states were not always incompetent or doomed. Circumstance, leadership, and timing could still overturn strategic reality.
As a historian, I find Montgisard refreshing. It reminds us that medieval warfare was not a chessboard of inevitability. Sometimes it was closer to a tavern brawl with lances.
The victory did not save the Kingdom of Jerusalem in the long term. Saladin would learn, adapt, and eventually prevail. But on that November day in 1177, the improbable happened, and a teenage king rode straight into legend., and sheer defiance can turn the tide in seemingly hopeless circumstances.
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