Holy Warriors

by Jonathan Phillips

  Starvation and disease were inevitable bedfellows of such grim conditions. People began to hoard food and the cost of the most basic provisions rocketed. The poor ate grass and herbs, horses were worth more dead than alive, and no part of the dead animal was left to waste; people who fell in battle were reckoned more fortunate than those who perished slowly by famine and illness. The only thing available in any reasonable quantity was wine, but those who overindulged were weakened even further. The wealthy organized collections for the less fortunate but it was the arrival of a grain ship that saved the day for the crusaders. In the winter of 1190 excessive rains prompted an epidemic of a tortured form: the soldiers’ limbs swelled up, people’s teeth fell out, and then they succumbed to an agonizing death. Large numbers of crusaders perished and among the most significant fatalities were Queen Sibylla and her young daughters. This tragedy reignited the succession issue because Guy was king only by right of marriage and the bloodline of the royal house now passed to Sibylla’s younger sister, Isabella. Conrad’s ambition to become king was ever more manifest—aside that is, from the inconvenient matters of his own earlier marriages to an Italian woman and Theodora Angelos of Byzantium, as well as the existence of Isabella’s husband, Humphrey lord of Toron. Humphrey had turned down a chance to become king in 1185 and his opponents taunted him for a stammer and his alleged effeminacy:

  As nature doubts whether to make a man or girl,

  You are born, O lovely, a boy who’s almost a girl.20

  Conrad exploited the fact that Isabella and Humphrey had been betrothed when she was only eight and married at eleven; this was under the age of consent, which meant the union was therefore void. Conrad is said to have abducted Isabella—described as a beautiful young woman with a pale face and black hair, devoted to her husband—and then bribed various churchmen to annul the marriage to Humphrey and to preside over the new union. Many of the ecclesiastical hierarchy were outraged—aside from the alleged abduction, Conrad was an adulterer, a bigamist; furthermore, the marriage was technically incestuous in canon law because Isabella’s sister had been wedded to Conrad’s brother, William Longsword. Guy, of course, continued to claim that he was the crowned king of Jerusalem: all of this meant that when Richard and Philip arrived in the Holy Land they would need to decide who was the rightful monarch.

  Saladin, meanwhile, tried ever harder to dislodge the Christian army, aware that Acre was by far the best bridgehead for the crusaders. He repeatedly appealed for the support of his coreligionists and he urged the caliph of Baghdad to encourage people to help him: “In the presence of a clear danger, Muslims remain indifferent in giving aid to their comrades, yet those around us [the crusaders] are inflamed by zeal. The times are hard and demand tough, merciless men: this war is unlike other wars, it needs seasoned and brave troops . . . where are the Muslims? God forbid that they are abandoning Islam.”21 The sultan certainly led by example, sharing in the privations of his troops and doing much to create his reputation for justice and generosity. While we must beware of the tendency of Saladin’s biographers to exaggerate their subject’s qualities, the basic principles of his behavior can be clearly recognized in the reports of Christian contemporaries too. In early April 1191 his men captured a group of Franks, including an extremely old man without a tooth left in his head. Saladin asked, through his interpreter, why he had come to the Levant at such an age: “to go on pilgrimage to the Sepulchre” came the reply. The sultan was so impressed with the man’s devotion that he gave him gifts, a horse, and freed him.22 Two months later—with the siege of Acre about to reach its denouement—a Christian woman was brought before him by the Muslim guards. Raiders had taken her three-month-old infant from the Frankish camp to sell at a slave market. The mother was understandably grief-stricken but the crusader princes mentioned Saladin’s mercy and advised her to ask for help. She explained the situation to the sultan, who ordered that the infant be found. He learned that it had been sold and so instructed the buyer to be refunded the purchase price and then handed the baby over to its mother. Beha ad-Din watched as mother and baby were reunited—the whole of the sultan’s retinue wept for joy; mother and baby were then escorted back to the Christian camp.23

  KING RICHARD AND KING PHILIP: CRUSADING RIVALS

  Back in the West, the main crusader armies were almost ready to set out. Philip had made a contract with the Genoese to transport his force of 650 knights to the Levant and he reached Sicily in September 1190. Part of Richard’s forces sailed directly to the Levant but the king and most of his troops went to Messina in Sicily where he would stay from September 1190 until April 1191. Appeals from the Holy Land begged Richard to get going but, in spite of the desperate situation at Acre, his thorough and cautious approach meant that he resolved other issues before continuing eastward. The time spent in Sicily allowed the king to gather even more money and resources and to organize his own marriage—although not in a way many had anticipated.

  The contrast in the arrival of the two kings reveals much about their respective characters and the amount of money each had. Philip sailed in with no fanfare at all, but Richard arrived “with great ships and galleys, in such magnificence and to such a noise of trumpets and clarions that a tremor ran through all who were in the city. The king of France and his men and all the chief men, clergy and people of Messina stood on the shore, wondering at what they had seen and heard about the king of England and his power.”24 In theory, Philip was Richard’s overlord but reality seemed to demonstrate that the junior partner had a much greater profile and far more money—something that Muslim writers would also notice as the crusade wore on.25 It was, however, the issue of the English king’s marriage that created the greatest tension. Richard had been betrothed to Philip’s sister Alice since they were children. Now, however, Richard wished to secure the southern borders of Aquitaine and through the work of his mother, Eleanor, arranged to marry Berengaria of Navarre. Eleanor, by now in her late sixties, had a particularly close relationship with Richard. Aside from her son’s strategic aims, she also wished him to spurn Alice because she was the daughter, by a later marriage, of her first husband, Louis VII. Eleanor duly traveled to Navarre to collect the bride and then escorted her to southern Italy to present her to the king. Once this was done, Eleanor returned to England to share the regency of the land with a senior churchman. Not content with rejecting Alice, Richard chose—rather crassly—to compound the insult to the French princess’s honor by claiming, almost certainly unfairly, that she had slept with his father, Henry II. So offensive was this rumor that, from this time onward, it practically crippled the Anglo–French relationship. In fact, it was deemed necessary to wait until Philip had departed from Sicily before it was safe to bring Berengaria over to Messina.

  Richard had another specific aim during his stay in Sicily. Tancred of Lecce, who ruled the island, owed him a considerable sum of money from the dowry of Richard’s sister, Joan, wife of Tancred’s predecessor, William II (d. 1189). The Sicilian was unwilling to repay this and in response Richard stormed the capital city of Messina and flew his banners above the walls until Tancred complied. The two men then exchanged gifts to seal their goodwill. In the course of this diplomacy the king mentioned that he had with him Excalibur, the sword of King Arthur, the hero of medieval romances and celebrated king of Britain. It had been “found” by monks of Glastonbury Abbey and presumably Richard had brought it with him as a symbol of his own standing and self-image. Tancred admired the sword and asked if he could have it—Richard agreed and in return accepted four large transport ships and fifteen galleys.26 Such an unsentimental exchange of this talismanic item shows the Lionheart’s calculating, organizational streak and his determination to achieve victory.

  Practical matters notwithstanding, in the course of his stay at Messina the king was moved by the spiritual purpose of his campaign as well. For all Richard’s macho politicking, he remained a pious Christian, and the contemporary writer Roger of Howden recorded a moment w
hen the king was overcome by his own sinfulness. He called all the clergy with him to assemble and then, naked, he threw himself to the floor and, holding three scourges, confessed his sins to them.27 In this context, we can see the power and attraction of the papal indulgence that offered a crusader the remission of all his sins.

  Winter weather meant it was impossible to leave Sicily until the spring of 1191. Philip of France was the first to depart, setting sail on March 30 and reaching Acre four weeks later. This provided the major injection of men, food, and equipment the Christians so desperately needed. Philip’s status meant that he was accorded a magnificent reception and the presence of figures such as Count Philip of Flanders (who had been to the Holy Land in 1177–78) and Duke Hugh of Burgundy added to the sense of anticipation among the Franks of the Levant.

  The French constructed screens covered in polished iron to protect their crossbowmen and they launched a fierce bombardment toward the walls of Acre. Philip ordered specialist miners to dig under a section of the battlements. They shored up the passage, set it on fire, and brought the wall down; a contingent of knights scrambled through the breach but were forced back. It became clear to the defenders that they were near breaking point and they communicated this to Saladin in the main camp. Some writers indicate that Philip could have taken the city without Richard’s presence but the French king decided to wait in order for them to share in the conquest, as agreed at Vézelay. The meaning of this arrangement became sorely tested in the aftermath of Richard’s journey from Sicily to Acre. As the fleet passed Cyprus a storm blew up and drove ashore the ships of Joan and Berengaria where they were seized by Isaac Comnenus, the ruler of the island. Isaac was a renegade member of the Byzantine imperial family and another ally of Saladin; foolishly he started to threaten his prisoners. “Not unnaturally we were spurred to revenge,” wrote Richard, who landed his own forces and quickly took Limassol.28 Isaac fled but Richard soon captured his opponent, bound him in silver chains in recognition of his status, and packed him off to the Hospitaller castle of Marqab in the principality of Antioch.29

  By chance, therefore, the king had acquired a rich, fertile land that was a perfect springboard for future crusades. Cyprus later became a place of refuge for those driven from the mainland and acted as a prominent and long-standing part of the Catholic presence in the eastern Mediterranean. It may seem contradictory that Richard had taken the lands of a fellow Christian, but Isaac was in alliance with the Muslims and had reputedly maltreated his prestigious female prisoners because of their allegedly heretical, that is non-Orthodox, beliefs. In the short term, Richard saw Cyprus as a source of money and he imposed a punitive levy of 50 percent on all possessions. When his own administration ran into trouble, the king promptly sold the island to the Templars for 100,000 bezants, thus raising the prospect of an independent territory owned by the warrior-monks. What this sale also meant was that Richard had refused to share the profits of his conquest with Philip. This seemed contrary to their agreement at Vézelay but Richard claimed that it only applied to gains made in the Holy Land and not en route, a provocative reading of the terms that only served to increase Philip’s animosity toward his rival.

  Richard married Berengaria at Limassol on May 12, 1191. Soon after the festivities he was visited by King Guy, himself a Poitevin. Guy’s opponent, Conrad, had already secured the support of his relative, King Philip, and now the nominal ruler of Jerusalem pledged homage to the English monarch. Thus the two rivals in the Holy Land had each linked up with one of the antagonistic crusading kings to add a further dimension to the intrigues of this campaign.

  RICHARD IN THE HOLY LAND: TRIUMPH AT ACRE

  On June 8, 1191, Richard received a rapturous reception as he landed at Acre. “The most valiant of kings has arrived, the best warrior in all of Christendom. . . . Their trust was in King Richard,” as one writer commented.30 With barely a hint of irony, the writer Richard of Devizes suggested that “the king was greeted with as much joy as if he had been Christ himself returning to earth to restore the kingdom of Israel.”31 The Christians had bragged about his strength and when he appeared amid great pomp and ceremony with twenty-five galleys full of men, stores, and weapons, “his coming,” reported Beha ad-Din, “had a dread and frightening effect on the hearts of the Muslims.”32 King Philip paid his men three gold bezants a month: Richard immediately showed his wealth and his competitive nature by offering four to anyone who would join his troops.33 Further supply ships followed, this time containing his siege equipment. The Christians were greatly encouraged and launched a fierce assault on the walls of Acre, but Muslim resistance remained strong. Catapults named “Bad Neighbour” and “The Catapult of God” launched a relentless barrage of stones (some brought especially from Messina) into the city. Within Acre, a catapult known to the crusaders as “Evil Cousin” inflicted much damage to the Frankish machines and other weapons discharged Greek fire. Sometimes they caught the Christians off guard and managed to destroy a ram or catapult. The crusaders faced not simply the defenders of Acre, but Saladin’s troops as well. When those in the city were under attack they would sound a drum to signal their coreligionists behind the Christians to launch an assault of their own. As the three armies pounded away at each other, the defenders of Acre grew ever more desperate; the Christians continued to exert maximum pressure on the walls, but still had to defend themselves from fierce attacks by Saladin’s men. The sultan sent in a huge supply ship with 650 fighting men to try to break into the harbor at Acre and to bolster the defenders. It was met by an English fleet and in spite of destroying some of these vessels it was forced to scuttle itself rather than have its cargo fall into Christian hands.

  Briefly, in late June, the Christians lost momentum. Both Richard and Philip fell ill with “arnaldia,” possibly scurvy, and had to take to their beds. Richard was determined not to let this deflect him and he ordered himself carried to the walls in a great silken quilt and there, protected by a screen, fired his crossbow at the city. Needless to say, such resolution was inspirational to his troops. A fortification in the northeast of the city known as the “Accursed Tower” became the focus of Richard’s efforts and he offered two, then three, and then four gold bezants to anyone who could remove a block of stone from it. Meanwhile his engineers dug a mine underneath, only to find a Muslim countermine blocking their path. The defenders burst through into the Christian tunnel: in such a cramped, dark space, with the tunnel held up by temporary pit props, it must have been a confusing and especially terrifying fighting environment; the two forces agreed on a mutual truce and the crusaders had to withdraw.

  Finally the “Accursed Tower” was brought down, but still the Muslims resisted: “had they not been infidels no better people could have been seen,” marveled the eyewitness Ambroise.34 By now, however, the walls of Acre had been pounded, pierced, and shattered so many times that the situation had become truly untenable. The defenders sent another envoy to Saladin to ask that he make peace with the Christians to save them from even greater distress. The sultan’s own forces were losing heart and his secretary reported that it was getting ever harder for him to persuade them to fight. Negotiations began but Saladin could not agree to the crusaders’ demands. Matters were to be taken out of his hands, however. The garrison became so desperate that they unilaterally struck a deal with Conrad of Montferrat to surrender. The terms included: their own freedom in return for the city; the handover of all its siege engines, equipment, and ships; 200,000 dinars; 100 specified prisoners and 1,500 unnamed captives from Saladin’s jails; and, most prized of all, the return of the True Cross. Certain hostages would also be given by the Muslims and the obligations were to be fulfilled within a month.35 A swimmer escaped from Acre to bring this unwelcome news to the sultan on the morning of July 12, 1191. He was devastated by this turn of events—his authority had been ignored and he was to be bound by a treaty that he had not consented to. He was about to send a message telling those in Acre to wait, but at that very mom
ent “the banners of Unbelief, its crosses, emblem and beacon were raised over the walls of the city.”36

  At last the crusaders had achieved their goal: the defenders marched out, although their resolute bearing surprised and impressed the Christians because in spite of their terrible ordeal they made no outward sign of sorrow or humiliation. The crusaders then entered the devastated port, crying out with joy and giving thanks to God for their success. Richard’s and Philip’s banners were raised over the walls and towers and the city’s contents and property divided equally. The only note of discord was an incident that concerned Duke Leopold V of Austria—a veteran of Frederick Barbarossa’s crusade—who, by this point, had been fighting at Acre for almost two years. As a noble of considerable standing he felt entitled to fly his banner from the walls as well—King Richard disagreed because he did not want a mere duke to share any part of the triumph and the Austrian standard was “cast into the dirt and trampled upon as an insult.”37

  As we saw earlier, the simmering rivalry between King Guy and Conrad of Montferrat over the throne of Jerusalem was paralleled in the tension between Richard and Philip. As a partisan of Conrad, the French ruler proposed to hand over all his acquisitions to the marquis—Richard felt this was wrong and that Guy, as the king, was the appropriate beneficiary. The need to settle the crown became even more pressing with the news that Philip intended to return home forthwith. Rigord, one of the few near-contemporary French sources to comment on the crusade, explained this by reference to the king’s continued ill health and irritation at the arrogance of Richard; however, some writers note that he wished to assert his rights to Flanders, a land without a ruler since the death of Count Philip at Acre on June 1.38 None of these ideas are mutually exclusive and in the absence of an eyewitness account taking Philip’s part it seems reasonable to assume a combination of all three reasons. This was a propaganda gift to the English chroniclers and they scorned the move: “What an extraordinary way of discharging a vow, when he had hardly entered the country and had such brief triumphs against the Turks!”39 While Philip spent a considerable amount of money on the siege of Acre and his efforts there proved highly important in the capture of the city, some commentators argued that as the most prestigious monarch present he had a particular responsibility to lead the recovery of the Holy Land. In spite of many efforts to make him change his mind, Philip resolved to leave on August 1. Four days prior to then, a compromise was arranged over the succession to Jerusalem. It was agreed that Guy should hold the throne for his lifetime but because Conrad had married Isabella, the legitimate heiress to the kingdom, on Guy’s death the crown would go to his rival. This arrangement preserved Guy’s status as the crowned and anointed monarch but recognized the legitimacy of Conrad and Isabella’s wedding, endorsed the royal bloodline and, de facto, noted Conrad’s popularity and military strength.