Victory in the East
Page 43
2 GF, pp. 44–5 and see above, pp. 260–2.
3 RA, pp. 83–4.
4 Hagenmeyer, Kreuzzugsbriefe, pp. 155–6.
5 GF, p. 72.
6 AA, 417–19, says that the crusaders found out about the matter during Kerbogah’s siege, but Hagenmeyer, Chronologie no. 287, thinks that it took Stephen eleven days by land and sea to reach Philomelium on or about 20 June, which makes it unlikely that news of the matter could have got back to Antioch by 28 June.
7 Alexiad, p. 348; France, ‘Anna Comnena’, 22–5; Hagenmeyer, Chronologie Nos. 175, 176.
8 Alexiad, pp. 345–8; Vryonis, Hellenism, pp. 116–17.
9 Vryonis, Hellenism, pp. 115–19 sets this in context.
10 Alexiad, pp. 348–9; Matthew, 41. On Theodore Gabras and his later martyrdom see Vryonis, Hellenism, pp. 360–1.
11 GF, pp. 63–5.
12 GF, p. 65; RC, 658–9; for Bauldry’s story see above, p. 211; the other copyists of the Anonymous, PT, pp. 74–6; HBS, 203–4; RM, 815, add nothing although GN, 200, has a short diatribe about deserters and mentions Hugh of Vermandois. It should be noted that at first the siege of Antioch was incomplete: see above, p. 270.
13 AA, 414–15.
14 Hagenmeyer, Kreuzzusbriefe, pp. 161–65. As Hagenmeyer points out this may well have been written wholly or in part by Bohemond.
15 On the Egyptian embassy and the question of numbers see above, pp. 122–42, 253–4 and below, pp. 325–7.
16 Adhémar’s reputation has been attacked by J. H. and L. L. Hill, ‘Contemporary accounts and the later reputation of Adhémar, bishop of Le Puy’, Medievalia et Humanistica, 9 (1955), 30–8 and defended by J. A. Brundage, ‘Adhémar of Puy, the bishop and his critics’, Speculum, 34 (1959), 201–12. It is evident to the present writer that Adhémar was the fulcrum around which all the forces unleashed during the crusade turned and that he was a figure of the highest importance.
17 RG, p. 673; J. Richard, ‘Quelques textes sur les premiers temps de I’église latine de Jérusalem’, Recueil des Travaux Offerts à M. Clovis Brunel, 2 vols. (Paris, 1955), 2. 420–30 drew attention to the legatine commission of Arnulf and Alexander mentioned by Clarius pp. 184–7; see also B. Hamilton, The Latin Church in the Crusader States. The Secular Church. (London, 1980) p. 13; RA, p. 152.
18 On the general character of the crisis which afflicted the crusade after the defeat of Kerbogah see France, ‘The crisis of the First Crusade, 276–308 and on the role of Peter and the visionaries Morris, ‘Policy and Visions’, and France, ‘Prophet, Priest and Chronicler’.
19 J. A. Forse, ‘The Armenians and the First Crusade’, Journal of Medieval History, 17 (1991), 13–22, emphasises the cultural affinity between Franks and Armenians.
20 ‘He [Thoros] was much afraid for many of the townsmen [of Edessa] hated him’: ‘Anonymous Syriac Chronicle’, p. 70.
21 FC, p. 90: Matthew, 36; AA, 352, on whom see A. A. Beaumont, ‘Albert of Aachen and the county of Edessa’, in L. J. Paetow, ed., The Crusades and Other Historical Essays presented to D. C. Munro (New York, 1928), pp. 101–38; Amouroux-Mourad, Comté d’Edesse, p. 59.
22 AA, 352–4, 397; Matthew, cxiii, where his first wife is named as Arda.
23 Cahen, Turkey, pp. 81–2.
24 AA, 355–7.
25 AA, 441, 436–40; RA, pp. 88–9; Chronicle of Aleppo, 586; RC, 649–50.
26 RA, pp. 103, 107, 111–12, 125, 135–36; GF pp.81, 83–6.
27 A. Maalouf, The Crusades through Arab Eyes (London, 1984), relies heavily on this idea, but his work is to crusader historiography as D. Brown, Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee (London, 1971), is to that of the western expansion of the United States, chiefly concerned with establishing an alternative viewpoint; Sivan, L’Islam et la Croisade, pp. 25–6, points to evidence that, in Syria, the crusaders were at first seen as instruments of the Byzantines. The ‘Anonymous Syriac chronicle’, p. 69, is quite clear that they were allies of Alexius who ‘sent ambassadors to Alexius to prepare to go out with them … Alexius promised to help them in all they needed’, but this was written in the late twelfth century.
28 Aleppo Chronicle, 583. Damascus Chronicle of the Crusades, p. 48. But overall there was little sense of jihad in the Islamic world as Sivan, L’Islam et la Crusade, pp. 21–35 makes clear; on Holy War in the two cultures see M. Canard, ‘La guerre sainte dans le monde islamique et le monde chrétien’, Revue Africaine, 79 (1936), 605–23.
29 Köhler, Allianzen un Verträgen, p. 72.
30 Aleppo Chronicle, 587.
31 AA, 441–5.
32 Aleppo Chronicle, 584; GF, pp. 73–4; Riley-Smith, Idea of Crusading, p. 61 thinks that the Anonymous was in Raymond Pilet’s following at this stage.
33 GF, pp.84, 89; RA, pp. 141–2.
34 RA, pp. 91–2, 104–5; Dussaud, Topographie, pp. 187–8, who tends to see their conquest as part of a plan of advance against Hama; for the capture of Ma‘arra see below, pp. 311–15. The ‘deserted cities’ of the Jebel Barisha are almost intact Roman cities in gradual decay. They were presumably deserted because of the erosion which has stripped the upper reaches of the massif of its soil, but their very existence points to former wealth. They are within sight of one another. This area was later annexed to the Principality of Antioch until it was lost in 1135: Smail, Crusading Warfare, p. 32.
35 France, ‘Prophet, priest and chronicler’.
36 RA, pp. 93–4.
37 RA, p. 94; GF, p. 76.
38 RA, p. 94; Krey, First Crusade, pp. 208–9.
39 AA, 449–50.
40 The location of the city, its topography and the events of the siege have been closely studied by Rogers, Latin Siege Warfare, pp. 106–17, who speaks of the ditch on the southern wall. But Ma’arra is now a sizeable place and has long outgrown its medieval walls. In its north-west corner there is a citadel with a ditch on its southern side, but it is not clear whether this was the site of the city in the eleventh century. The Iranian traveller Naser-e Khosraw, The Book of Travels, tr. W. M. Thackston (New York, 1986), p. 11, visited Ma’arra in 1047 and described it as a walled and prosoperous place with its own cultural life.
41 RA, pp. 94–5, 99.
42 GF, p. 81; AA, 450–1; RC, 674–75, 679; FC, pp. 112–13.
43 RA, PP. 94–5; GF, p. 38.
44 RA, pp. 904–7; RC, 675; AA, 450.
45 GF, p. 79; RA, p. 95; AA, 450.
46 GF, pp. 78–80, is much the clearer of the two accounts but it is supported by RA, pp. 97–8.
47 Aleppo Chronicle, 587; Damascus Chronicle of the Crusades, p. 47; RC, 679.
48 Rogers, Siege warfare, p. 110 thinks there was no drawbridge.
49 RA, pp. 98–100; GF, p. 80; on the Tafurs see above, p. 287, n. 57; M. Rouche, ‘Canniba-lisme sacré chez les croisés populaires’, Y. M. Hilaire ed. in la Réligion Populaire (Paris, 1981), pp. 56–69.
50 RA, pp. 99–102; on the size of the crusader army and the terms of the money-fief and its importance see above, p. 129–30.
51 RA, pp. 125, says that Bohemond drove out the Provençals when he heard that Count Raymond had left Ma‘arra. PT, p. 95 also speaks of a violent expulsion at some stage during the stay at Ma’arra or shortly thereafter, while AA, 448, reports a violent expulsion, but his dating is uncertain. RC, 675 says that Tancred quarrelled with Count Raymond earlier, during the siege of Ma’arra and, returning to Antioch, tricked the Provençal garrisons into surrender; he then explains why the Normans and the South French were enemies and gives a very hostile view of the Lance before returning to the fall of Ma’arra. It is not impossible that RA, who remarks on the affair only in passing, is imprecise on the date. The greatest objection to Ralph’s story is that it was only shortly after the siege of Ma’arra that Tancred took Count Raymond’s pay and swore to serve him even to Jerusalem. However, even Bohemond was called to Rugia, so evidently considerable efforts at reconciliation were made. It is not at all impossible that Bohemond seized Antioch late in the siege of Ma’arra; he woul
d have seen that the temper of the army prevented Count Raymond from returning to Antioch.
52 Though Hill and Hill, Raymond IV, pp. 113–15, suggest that Raymond and the North French agreed to march by different routes and rendez-vous at ‘Akkar. In view of the sequence of events this seems unlikely.
53 On numbers see above, pp. 129–30; RA, pp. 102–3; GF, PP. 81–2.
54 RA, p. 104–6.
55 On the importance of which see above, p. 209–20.
56 RA, pp. 103–7.
57 GF, pp. 834; Hill and Hill, Raymond IV, p. 121.
58 RA, pp. 110–11; GF, p. 84; AA, 454–5, 479.
59 RA, pp. 107–9; GF, pp.85–6.
60 AA, 451–2; RC, 680, 682; GN, 218–19.
61 Hagenmeyer, Chronologie, No. 355.
62 RC, 680, 682; Rogers, Siege Warfare, pp. 118–19 describes the city. For Dijebel ‘Akkar, its general location and history see Dussaud, Topographie, p. 88, and for more detail, ‘Voyages en Syrie, Oct-Nov 1896’, Revue archéologique, (1897) (1), 305–8; M. van Berchem, ‘Notes sur les Croisades’, Journal Asiatique, 1 (1902), 421, 448; Lestrange, Palestine under the Moslems, pp. 80, 390. The present writer was able to visit ‘Akkar in the spring of 1992 and personal observation is the basis of this description.
63 RA, pp. 108, 111–12, 124; AA, 454–6.
64 RA, pp. 112–24; RC, 682; AA, 452; GN, 217–18.
65 RA, p. 124, 128–9, 131–4; GF, pp. 85–6.
66 Lilie, Byzanz, pp. 42–3, suggests that, in the wake of the dispute over Antioch, Alexius was simply trying at all costs to prevent the formation of Frankish lordships, hence, also, his letter to Al-Afdal revealing crusader weakness (RA, p. 110). However, it seems to the present writer that Alexius’s attitudes were somewhat more ambivalent especially in view of his alliance with Raymond of Toulouse, and that his essential purpose was to enlist aid against Bohemond.
67 Hill and Hill, Raymond IV, p. 124, think that the siege of ‘Akkār helped Count Raymond to establish a claim to Tripoli for the future.
68 On Raymond and the imperial embassy see above, pp. 323–3, and for events at Ramla see below, p. 330.
CHAPTER 11
Jerusalem: triumphant ending
* * *
Just as the crusade was about the leave ‘Akkār in considerable disarray on 13 May 1099, there occurred an event of great importance for the coming campaign. Their ambassadors to Cairo finally returned with proposals from the Fatimid Caliphate. The leaders had first dispatched envoys to the Egyptians from Nicaea in late June 1097 at the suggestion of Alexius and we have seen that some kind of understanding was reached, or at least anticipated, after discussions between the leaders and a Fatimid embassy in February-March 1098 which returned home with a crusader delegation.1 According to Ekkehard these Franks were in al-Afdal’s camp before Jerusalem during his siege of the city when he threatened its defenders with his Frankish allies; the Historia Belli Sacri simply says that they spent Easter 1099 in the Holy Sepulchre obviously on friendly terms with their hosts.2 This strongly reinforces the idea that the Egyptians were negotiating seriously. Raymond of Aguilers makes it clear that a partition of land captured from the Seljuks was the basis of discussion, with Jerusalem being allocated to the Franks, and the Historia Belli Sacri suggests the same kind of arrangement. It is difficult to know how serious the crusaders were in pursuing these negotiations by this time. Things had changed since the ambassadors had been sent in March 1098. The Byzantine alliance was no longer operative and the crusade had become much more focussed on Jerusalem as its sole objective. At the same time, the success in North Syria had made the princes much more hopeful of tangible gain. In these circumstances an arrangement with the Egyptians would have seemed less than attractive to all elements in the army. For his part, al-Afdal was securely in possession of Jerusalem and was pursuing discussions with the Turks of Syria, as Raymond of Aguilers reveals.3 He was in a strong position and was probably well aware of the divisions between the westerners and Alexius from letters sent to him by the Emperor which were later found in his camp after the battle of Ascalon. He would also have been well aware of the cautious policy of Raymond of Toulouse who had barely infringed the Fatimid sphere of influence in attacking the independent-minded ruler of Tripoli. In these circumstances al-Afdal made only a minimal offer to the crusaders, but one which presumably he felt was within the ambit of the discussions. According to Raymond of Aguilers, at Tripoli the Egyptian Embassy proposed only that groups of unarmed crusaders should be allowed to enter the Holy City. The crusaders knew that the Fatimids had profited greatly from their attack in the north to seize Jerusalem and some of the coastal cities of Palestine and this may have contributed to the anger with which they rejected the terms offered. Essentially, however, opinion had moved on since the crusader embassy was sent and what had seemed then a real possibility was now unacceptable, especially in the light of the turmoil in the crusader camp.4 But the negotiations had served the crusaders well. The Egyptians had obviously been expecting an arrangement with the Franks and al-Afdal’s offer was perhaps meant either as a preliminary offer or a delaying tactic. It was a terrible miscalculation for the Fatimids appear to have been unprepared for war. Only after the collapse of the negotiations at Tripoli did the Fatimids begin to make military preparations.5 It was because of this that the crusaders would enjoy a fairly peaceful and easy march south. The Fatimid cities of the coast offered little resistance and, indeed, some concluded arrangements to allow the Franks to pass. What else could they have done in the light of the unpreparedness of their master? For much of the route down what is now the Lebanese coast the army would be confined by the mountains to a narrow and dangerous coastal road. Jaffa’s fortifications were slighted and the city abandoned before the crusaders even approached. The road from Ramla to Jerusalem passes through the Judean Hills which are perfect for harassment but none was experienced (see fig. 16). The signs are that the garrison of Jerusalem was no more than adequate for its task and had to be augmented at the last minute and throughout the siege the scale of enemy harassment was limited. All the indications are that the Fatimids had not made any military preparations against the crusader army.6 The army at Tripoli could never have guessed what a free run lay before it, but what they did know was that time mattered. Once they had rejected the terms offered and resolved to enter Fatimid territory it was only common sense to anticipate an enemy reaction. This explains the extreme haste of the march which contrasts sharply with their earlier pace. The army left Ma‘arra on 13 January 1099 and travelled the 160 kilometres to ‘Akkār by 14 February, some thirty-two days, giving a crude average daily rate of march of only five kilometres. They rested for five days at Shaizar and passed fifteen at Crac, so that the actual average daily rate of march was 13 kilometres. By contrast they left Tripoli on 16 May and took twenty-three days to cover the 360 kilometres to Jerusalem where they encamped on 7 June, a crude average daily rate of fifteen kilometres. During the march they rested only for eight days, giving an average daily rate of 24 kilometres. Between Tripoli and Beirut they seem to have made 40 kilometres per day for two days. Time was against the crusaders and from their point of view the whole campaign was dominated by the need for haste, hence the speed of march and the early assault on Jerusalem. This gamble against time was all the more risky because of the naval situation. The Egyptian fleet was far from dominant in the Mediterranean but it enjoyed a strong position along the Palestinian coast and so, for the first, time the naval supremacy of the crusaders could not be taken for granted.7
The leaders had already consulted with native Christians about the routes to Jerusalem; these are called Syrians by Raymond of Aguilers but they were almost certainly Maronite Christians for he says they lived in the mountains of the Lebanon. They had enjoyed much autonomy under Moslem rule and as warriors would soon command the respect of the Franks. They had indicated three possible routes – inland via Damascus, across the mountains of Lebanon into the Jordan valley or down the co
ast (see fig. 16). It was probably the possibility of naval aid which lead them to choose the latter route, despite the narrow defiles of the road along the littoral. They were accompanied by the crews of an English fleet whose vessels had all but fallen apart from use but, as we have noted, this was not the only friendly fleet operating in Levantine waters.8 In the treaty with Tripoli its emir promised to facilitate the passage of the crusader army, conversion to Christianity and subordination to the crusader command if they could defeat Egypt, and similar terms were made with Beirut and later Acre which they reached in late May, and probably other cities as well. His attitude was hardly surprising, for he had sought friendship with the crusaders from the very first, and even during the siege of Antioch had allowed them to come to buy food.9 As part of his agreement with the crusader leaders he released 300 prisoners. Even during the siege of Antioch arrangements to release prisoners had been so common that Roger of Barneville had earned a great reputation as a negotiator in such matters.10 According to Albert the emir of Tripoli kept his word and provided them with a guide who took them along the dangerously narrow passages of the coast road via Batrun to Djebail and saw to it that those entrusted with various strongpoints along the route allowed the crusaders to pass. It is possible that he provided Count Raymond with a kind of liaison officer who was later of use at the siege of Jerusalem.11
The cities along the coast were too strongly fortified for the army to have any chance of capturing them and they could count on help from the Egyptian fleet, but they had only garrison troops which could not block their way in the absence of reinforcements from Egypt (see fig. 16). Beirut (19–20 May) and Acre (24–6 May) concluded treaties with the crusaders very much on the model of Tripoli, while Tyre (23–4 May), Haifa and Caeserea offered no resistance. There was some harassment of the Christian army by the inhabitants of Sidon where they stayed 20–2 May and suffered the attentions of poisonous snakes. During the three day halt here the knight Gautier de la Verne was sent off on a foraging expedition but ran into strong enemy forces guarding flocks and was never seen again. All down what is now the Lebanese coast from Tripoli the army was marching along a corniche between the sea and the mountains; as noted this was particularly steep and narrow north of the Dog River near Beirut, but even after this it was confined. It must have been a relief to find the coastal plain opening up north of Acre, where they rested between 24 and 26 May and then celebrated Pentecost with a four-day rest at Caeserea, 26–9 May. In early June the army reached Arsuf where it turned inland towards Ramla but their bold advance down the coast had brought an enormous dividend. The enemy abandoned and destroyed Jaffa, the nearest port to Jerusalem, presumably because they assumed that the crusaders would take it as their base for resupply.12 This is a revelation of how weak the military position of the Fatimids was in Palestine and confirms the impression that they had expected to continue an arrangement with the Franks. On 2 June the army encamped at Wadi Djiudas close to Ramla which the enemy deserted during the night, apparently leaving it in good condition with plenty of food and there the crusaders paused until 6 June, presumably preparing themselves for the ordeal of the siege ahead. The city was a major crossroads and so extremely useful to the crusaders who would later concentrate there in preparation for the battle at Ascalon.13 At Lydda near Ramla, was a famous shrine of St George and in celebration of its easy delivery the crusaders appointed their first bishop, Robert of Rouen. His establishment in the city with a garrison of course served to guard crusader communications with the coast. While they were at Ramla they held a council of leaders. Here a suggestion was made that the army should attack Egypt and thus secure not only Jerusalem but all its rich cities. Raymond of Aguilers, who alone reports this discussion, does not indicate who made the suggestion, but whoever it was feared the problems of besieging Jerusalem in arid Judea. In a strategic sense, of course, to conquer Jerusalem through Egypt anticipated the grand strategy of the thirteenth century. It was presumably the count of Toulouse who suggested the idea for he had once before, in the debate over whether to await the coming of the Emperor Alexius at ‘Akkār, expressed doubts about the ability of the army to capture Jerusalem unaided. Moreover he was probably the only one of the leaders who had the strategic vision to suggest such a scheme though the long negotiations with Egypt had showed clearly the strategic possibilities. However, those who argued that the army was far too small for such a vast undertaking and would not even be able to hold any captured city, were quite right – the vision was far beyond their means.14