It has passed, if not into history, at least into legend. A Provençal knight, Dieudonné de Gozon, slew a dragon…

In a valley below Mount St Stephen, a little south of the city of Rhodes, a dragon had established its lair and, in the manner of its kind, was given to preying upon the peasantry—particularly country maidens. A number of Knights at one time or another had gone out to give battle to the dragon but all had lost their lives, with the result that orders had been issued by the Grand Master that the beast should be left severely alone. Dieudonné de Gozon, however, was determined to free Rhodes from the menace, and had a model built conforming to the descriptions of the dragon given by those who had seen it. He then trained dogs to attack it, with the intention of killing it himself while it was engaged by the dogs. When he felt that the training period was over, Dieudonné rode out to the valley. He found the dragon in its lair and slew it. For his disobedience he was dismissed from the Order. So great was the public outcry, however, that the Grand Master was forced to reinstate him. Whatever the truth of the story (and it is possible that some large snake or even a Nile crocodile had established itself near a lake in the valley) the existence of Dieudonné de Gozon cannot be doubted. He is ever afterwards referred to in the Order’s archives as ‘The Dragon-Slayer’. He went on, undoubtedly assisted by his popular fame, to become Grand Master in 1346.

But the dragon which was to engage the attention of the Knights for centuries to come was the rising power of the Turk swirling out of the East—ever the home of dragons. Two years after they had established themselves at Rhodes the Order was faced by the first naval challenge from this great enemy. A Turkish squadron of some twenty ships attacked Amorgos, the outermost island of the Cyclades. Now Amorgos is over a hundred miles to the north-west from Rhodes, so at first sight this might have seemed little challenge to the authority of the Knights over the islands that came within their control. But it was, on the other hand, only fifty miles due west of Cos. A Turkish occupation of Amorgos would threaten not only Cos but Calymnos and Leros, the northernmost bastions of the Order’s small empire. It is probable indeed that the Turks had no intention of establishing themselves in Amorgos—although there was a good harbour at the capital Katapola—but were only bent on plunder and rapine. (The women of Amorgos had been famous for their beauty since classical times.) Fulk de Villaret nevertheless saw this as a first threat to his outer defences and sent the Order’s fleet north immediately. In the subsequent encounter the Turks were defeated and lost nearly all their ships and men. From this moment on the word spread swiftly throughout the Aegean that there was a new power operating in the sea. In many a remote island that had once been protected by the Byzantine fleet, the inhabitants must have felt the first stirrings of hope, that they would not always be subject to piratical raids. The Cross of St John was now being extended over the ‘wine-dark sea’.

In the same year as their victory at Amorgos the Knights in company with the fleet of the King of Cyprus overwhelmed an Ottoman fleet in the strait between the island of Samos and the famous and ancient city of Ephesus. All this within two years of first establishing themselves in their island home is indicative of the fact that the Order took their duties seriously and that they were remarkably efficient. Yet, perhaps because the scene of their activities was so remote from Europe, there were not a few princes, Popes, and prelates, who complained that the Order was too powerful for the little good it did. Popes cast greedy eyes on its rich revenues and, after the destruction of the Templars, there were always those who had in mind the ultimate ruin of the Order. It was in this political arena, about which we know less than the battles and land campaigns of the Order, that the power and influence of its members in Europe were constantly deployed.

That the Order of St John did not suffer the same fate as the Templars must be largely attributed to two facts; firstly its affairs were well managed; and secondly its activities were seen by the papacy as the possible herald of further Crusades. What must always be remembered is that Rhodes was only the spearhead of a lance that was supported and directed by the strong shoulder of the Order’s holdings in Europe. Without the activities of the priories, bailywicks, and commanderies in Italy, Spain, France, Germany, and England, Rhodes would have been no more than a distant island in the Aegean Sea which would have been overwhelmed within a matter of years. Money paid for the Order’s galleys, money paid for the defences of the city, and money paid for an elaborate spy network throughout Asia Minor and the Near East which kept the Grand Master and his Council well informed of the movement and intentions of their enemies.

Other successes marked these early years, among them the defeat of a Turkish fleet off Smyrna, with the Order fighting alongside the ships of France and Venice, The Venetians were always glad of the Order’s assistance in policing the Aegean, for they had large holdings and interests in the islands which formed stepping stones for their trade with the East.