The Coming of the Third Crusade: Barbarossa’s Attack
In 1189 Saladin had news that the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa was to be the leader of the first wave of the great crusader armies to arrive in the Holy Land. In his mid-sixties, Barbarossa was an old man by medieval standards, a veteran fighter who knew conditions in the Near East and had served on the Second Crusade. As a ruler, he stood at the opposite pole from Henry II who alienated his great men by his slippery diplomacy. Despite defeats in Italy, Barbarossa had never lost the trust of his leading aristocrats and brought together an army of high calibre to travel along the traditional landward route through the Byzantine Empire and Anatolia. Isaac II, the Byzantine emperor, a feeble and superstitious holder of the office, consumed by an unfounded fear that Barbarossa’s true aim was to destroy him and his empire, imprisoned German envoys and attacked the army. Barbarossa kept his patience but was delayed over the winter and then had to endure attacks by the Seljuq Turks in Anatolia, but still he beat them off and won plunder. His host was not seriously disturbed. Then disaster struck. Travelling across Anatolia in the oppressive heat of July 1190, Barbarossa took a dip in the cold water of the River Saleph and suffered a fatal stroke. Without him his army disintegrated. Although his son Frederick persevered, he brought only a remnant army to reinforce the Franks in the Holy Land.
It was an immense relief to Saladin who had lacked troops even to act as a tripwire to Barbarossa advancing through the north as he still had too many men scattered in small numbers besieging major inland fortresses in the south. The sites were so formidable that, if garrisons were determined, only starvation could force surrender and a minimum number of soldiers was needed to hold the enemy down and stop supplies getting through. Now worries over that were over.
More important still was the effect on Muslim morale. The sudden end of the chief enemy was widely hailed as a sign of God’s favour: striking Barbarossa down was a sign of divine approval for Saladin and his army and this mattered greatly for Saladin’s inner security. He never wholly lost his sense of inferiority as one of the despised Kurds and as a man who, try as he might, could not assume the attributes of the Arab aristocracy.
The Third Crusade Resumes: Richard and Philip at Messina
On 23 September 1190, at the head of a great armada of ships, Richard made a ceremonial entry by galley into the port of Messina, standing on a specially constructed platform in a manner befitting a great prince, heading a flotilla adorned with varied painted and colourful shields while the trumpets pealed out and the townsmen hurried forward to catch sight of the great man. By contrast, Philip had slipped in unheralded a week earlier with his much smaller fleet and throughout the proceedings felt like a shabby poor relation. Late in 1189 the premature death of the Norman William II, ruler of both southern Italy and the fertile island of Sicily, created a dynastic crisis necessarily affecting Richard as his sister Joan’s marriage to William had been childless. There was a general agreement that this vital kingdom should not pass to the Germans and so an amicable general conspiracy to cut them out made the heir Tancred of Lecce, an illegitimate cousin of William II. Tancred at first refused to give up Joan’s dower, which was very considerable and needed for crusade finance, and kept her in confinement. Richard dealt firmly with him, released Joan and the dower and obtained for the crusade a legacy from William II, finally soothing Tancred by the munificent gift of Excalibur, the sword of King Arthur.
Richard headed an armada of 219 ships with an immense complement of warriors and sailors, possibly as many as 7,000, which imposed intolerable strains on food supplies. Food riots were a consequence, made more acute by hostility between Richard’s men and the Greek population in Messina who took a sharp dislike to each other. Attempts at peacemaking foundered. In a skilled operation, Richard’s men swiftly took the city, looting, destroying galleys and planting his banners on the walls, implying total rights for Richard over the citizens and defences. Affronted, Philip insisted that the banners be replaced by neutral ones, those of the Templars or Hospitallers, and Richard felt obliged to do this but nevertheless took hostages and, with a notable absence of tact, built a tower dominating Messina called Mategriffon, ‘Kill Greeks’. Tensions were not assuaged but the kings contrived to work together to impose a price freeze on provisions and create a crusade discipline, while Richard in the long wait for sailing weather eased problems by largesse.
The natural procedure for a leading crusader would have been to visit the pope, but Richard chose to ignore him and instead went to consult the aged Cistercian abbot in Calabria, Joachim of Fiore, with a reputation for prophecy. He had heard of Joachim’s compelling painted image of the seven-headed dragon, based on Revelation, Chapter 13, the heads representing all the great persecutors of the Church from Nero onwards to the sixth figure, the ravaging head of Saladin. Richard put the question: would he, Richard, slay this deadly dragon’s head? Joachim believed he would and urged him to persevere, confident in God’s providence. In Joachim’s scheme the killing of Saladin by Richard and the return of Christians to the Holy Land would be followed by a period of peace and joy in which old problems simply disappeared – an age of saints. But this joyful interlude was but a prelude for the last and greatest persecution of all, in which the seventh head, that of Antichrist, would wreak terrible havoc for three and a half years before the End of Time and Christ’s return. The seventh dragon’s head, the greatest of all persecutors, had, Joachim believed, already been born in Rome. Could this future Antichrist be the current pope, Richard asked? Joachim was not going to follow Richard in this speculation, characteristic of the anticlericalism of leading princes. Higher churchmen came from the same class as they did and, while respecting their doctrinal role and their guardianship of relics which played so vital a role in contemporary religion, they were determined to ensure that they did not overstep the line and usurp power that properly belonged to the secular arm. Richard made his own spiritual preparation. Going on crusade was his act of devotion to God and he was well aware that the rightful preliminary was to confess sins. In a ceremony in the presence of bishops and archbishops, Richard stripped naked, confessed his sins and publicly scourged himself.
Escorted to Sicily by the indomitable Eleanor, then given into the protection of Richard’s sister Joan, Berengaria of Navarre travelled on with him towards the Holy Land. The armada travelled via Crete and Rhodes before reaching Cyprus, making sure that ships took on fresh water frequently for men and, above all, horses. Richard’s last act before making landfall at Acre was to capture Cyprus, ruled by a former Byzantine governor, Isaac Comnenus, who had usurped the island from the emperor in Constantinople and was therefore vulnerable. Manifestly underestimating Richard, he believed he could block the beach at Limassol and use his superiority in numbers to sweep Richard back into the sea. Nothing of the kind occurred. Richard stealthily landed war-horses by night, well fed and watered, and made a sudden charge, leading from the front as he always did. His clerk Hugh de la Mare was aghast at the risk, only to be told, ‘Sir clerk, you get on with your writing. Forget about fighting and leave the chivalry to us, by God and Saint Mary.’ Richard overwhelmed Isaac’s camp, captured rich booty and soon took the allegiance of major landholders. Guy of Lusignan landed to seek Richard’s support in his continuing battle for power against Conrad of Montferrat – Richard agreed, endowing him handsomely and using Guy and his men to complete the capture of Cyprus. Isaac tried to buy time by fleeing to the mountains but, intimidated by the capture of his daughter, surrendered. Richard promised that he would not clap him in irons and kept his promise, but with sardonic humour put him in silver chains instead. It was an acquisition of great strategic importance with rich, well-cultivated lands, prosperous after centuries of Byzantine rule. With Joan and Berengaria anchored off Limassol and the island safe, Richard and Berengaria were married in the chapel there, and on the following day she was crowned queen of England by a Norman bishop. At last, after sinking a massive Muslim saili
ng ship laden with equipment and troops for the relief of the Acre garrison, Richard arrived at the muddy battlefield of Acre in June 1191.
The Siege of Acre
The armies of Saladin, the crusader force and the Muslim garrison had been battling since August 1189, fed spasmodically by newly arrived crusaders or by Muslims responding to the call of jihad, fighting bitter but inconclusive battles that relapsed into stalemate, beset by rain, cold, hunger and illness. There was a heavy death toll – Sibylla, the archbishop of Canterbury and Ranulf Glanvill all succumbed to disease. Loss of life was much greater than in the fast-moving encounters with Saladin (aside, that is, from the catastrophe at Hattin) and had much in common with the trench warfare of the First World War, as damp and mud brought on trench foot and both sides bombarded each other periodically with siege engines and arrows. Saladin received pitifully little help from the caliph. For all his great wealth, he sent two loads of naphtha, spear hafts and a letter of credit authorising borrowing, in effect resourcing no more than a day’s fighting. It was all the more galling as, since his conversion, Saladin had felt it his duty to support a caliph’s rulings.
Both sides were near exhaustion. Philip with the French contingent arrived first, amid both hymns and tears, which checked crusader desertions. He used siege engines to step up the pressure. Richard’s reputation preceded his arrival with massive resources in June and morale rose with the unpacking of Mategriffon, sections of the wooden structure that had intimidated the men of Messina and been carried on his ships for use in the bombardment of Acre. But he succumbed to arnaldia, a disease that had some likeness to sheep mange, well known to English farmers, and was forced to lie behind silk curtains on his bed, albeit still on the battlefield, from where he directed operations. He followed the crusader convention, which laid down that a crusader who fell ill must stay at a battle site and, if need be, die there as part of his devotion to the cause and not be tempted to draw off for better medical care. Philip chose to depart for France on 31 July: he too had suffered illness and felt the need to deal with new problems in his kingdom and recover his health. He lost prestige by his decision. It left Richard in undisputed command.
Blockade in the end brought defeat to the Acre garrison, the crusader forces having a naval superiority that squeezed the defenders. Terms were agreed on 12 July, sparing the garrison in return for payment, handing over prisoners and surrendering the city and Muslim ships. Richard and Philip before his departure had arbitrarily divided spoils, cutting out rewards for fighters who had suffered from the long battles which had led to the victory of July and creating anger in the camp. Saladin delayed settlement: whether through a wish to fatigue his opponents and simply win time or through an oriental bargaining tradition is not clear. Some 2,700 prisoners were held hostage for the fulfilment of the treaty and on 20 August Richard, determined to cut delay and march towards Jerusalem, brought them out and massacred them in sight of Saladin. This act created great bitterness and led Saladin to counter with torture and killing of prisoners as campaigning continued. Richard seems not to have been easy in his mind about it, as he wrote a letter in defence of his conduct to the abbot of Clairvaux. Did he fly into a rage in this case? Or had he coolly concluded that it was impossible safely to hold the prisoners and yet march on?
Travelling some 5 miles per day, there followed an 80-mile march along the coastal road from Acre to Jaffa to recapture the littoral, while making full use of crusader naval power. Ships kept station, providing food and protection while infantry marched on either side of a column of cavalrymen, acting as a carapace for the vital Frankish weapon – their battle winner – the armed and fully trained war-charger. Saladin travelled in parallel. His light horses darted in and out, firing arrows; the tunics of the crusade infantry after such attacks could look like pincushions. To relieve the pressure, the columns alternated, one column enduring the enemy assault and the other marching between the cavalry and baggage train and the sea. Some died from heatstroke. There were casualties in a series of minor clashes. The high purpose of the crusade was recalled by chants at night of the prayer ‘Sacrum sepulchrum, adiuva nos’, ‘Holy Sepulchre, help us’. The military orders had a key role to play in maintaining discipline, the Templars forming the vanguard and the Hospitallers warding off attacks on the most vulnerable point, the rearguard. Horses as well as men suffered.
Saladin held the initiative. He was free to attack and retreat at will but had to avoid pitched battle, in which his archers and light cavalry could be mowed down by the classic Frankish cavalry charge. Only once in the long march, as Richard’s army emerged from the forest of Arsuf, near Jaffa, did Saladin come close to suffering the kind of defeat which could have destroyed him. His forces advanced too far and the Frankish cavalry, in such close packed conditions, succeeded in inflicting heavy casualties. Saladin had a shock. Thereafter he kept his distance and shadowed Richard as he marched on.
At Jaffa, the traditional point of disembarkation of warriors and pilgrims for Jerusalem, the army halted. The failure at Acre and the loss of so many soldiers had depressed Saladin and his emirs. Fighting for ports and stopping Richard was a natural instinct, but fear of fresh disasters led Saladin and some of his entourage to prefer destruction as the safer alternative. So Saladin destroyed the defences of Jaffa before the arrival of Richard’s army, which in consequence was forced to camp outside in the orchards while men set to work rebuilding them – Jaffa mattered too much for the future. Meanwhile Saladin went on to destroy the defences at Ascalon, to the dismay of the inhabitants, and put obstacles in the way of a possible march by the surviving crusaders on Jerusalem.
Diplomacy for Richard was spasmodically an accompaniment to military action. Before the battle at Arsuf, Richard had attended an interview with Saladin’s brother al-Adil. Both sides could find negotiations profitable, Saladin hoping to delay or distract the onward movement of a well-led and equipped army, Richard probing for possible advantages that came to nothing. In October he launched a scheme for an apparently outrageous marriage between al-Adil and his sister Joan: the two would together hold the kingdom and bring peace. It was a tactical move in order to gain up-to-date knowledge of his opponent’s thinking; Joan was indignant and did not understand her brother’s half-joking diplomacy as messages went up and down and Richard got what he really wanted: valuable intelligence about the Muslim camp.
Marriage and the kingship of Jerusalem continued to play a background role. Intrigue brought a marriage between Conrad of Montferrat and Isabella, the half-sister of Sibylla by Amalric’s second marriage to Maria Comnena. Maria and others had bullied Isabella into abandoning her happy marriage to Humphrey IV of Toron and marrying the grizzled veteran in November 1190. Sibylla’s death from disease at Acre had removed Guy’s claim and after the Conrad marriage Richard recognised he could no longer support Guy and generously made arrangements to compensate him with the lordship of the island of Cyprus. Conrad came to a dramatic end, stabbed to death by two Assassins in the street at Tyre in April 1192, and the luckless Isabella was married off to another candidate, Henry of Champagne.
In late 1192 both sides were becoming exhausted. Saladin, who had had to release some emirs from their military service over winter, wanted to play for time and used the ambition of Conrad of Montferrat to split his opponents, while Richard was pulled to and fro between genuine crusading passion for Jerusalem, his wish to keep his own troops and survivors from Philip’s expedition on board and his strategic sense, which understood that any attempt on Jerusalem was highly risky because of the lasting problem of water supply and the lack of troops to keep a worthwhile garrison once the crusaders had fulfilled their vow and gone home. His powers of cool assessment led him to accept that Egypt held the key to Palestine, and only taking power there would preserve the Holy City in the Christian interest in the long term. He negotiated with Italian cities to back an Egyptian foray and refortified Ascalon but time and money ran out and reports of the actions of John against
him in England forced him to think of leaving. However, in November 1191 he moved troops forward, preparing supply lines, repairing strongpoints and enduring both Muslim harassment and relentless rains. The prospect of at last attacking Jerusalem sustained morale and the decision in January 1192 to turn back dashed the hopes of many and there were desertions. Saladin’s army was still depleted and he could do little. Then, in May, French great men and their troops, with some of Richard’s own men swept on into another move up to Jerusalem, carrying Richard willy-nilly with them. They paused in June at Bait Nuba, 12 miles from the city, and during this time Richard captured a major caravan passing over the Negev desert. But the hazards of occupation after the crusaders had gone home remained, and in addition Saladin had poisoned wells, and so on 4 July Richard gave the order to withdraw. Yet Saladin had been taken by surprise by Richard’s second move towards the city and it is just possible that a sudden coup then could have succeeded.
God's Armies Page 19