Although a policy of fines and confiscations combined with the sale of public offices and demands for payment for the renewal of royal grants was quite usual for a new ruler, Richard nevertheless raised sums far beyond the norm. Henry II had already started to collect a tax known as the ‘Saladin tithe’, which aimed to take a tenth of revenues and movables. This was established in January 1188, when Henry and Philip of France had agreed to go on crusade, and was deeply resented in both countries, partly because of its scale and partly because of the fear of precedent: Philip, in fact, was forced to give it up.94
Delay had its advantages. Roger of Howden believed that immense sums had been raised from those who now wished to be released from their vows; the proceeds were granted to Richard by Pope Clement III.95 More serious for long-term government was the alienation of considerable parts of the royal demesne, which raised money in the short term but which Glanville knew would be damaging in the future. The financial pressure caused by the crusade can be seen in the distinct spike in the Exchequer returns in 1190, which show record receipts of £31,000 in contrast to £21,000 in 1188 (Henry II's last complete year) and a steep fall in the years 1191–3, when the average was £11,000.96 The unique place of the Holy Land within the Latin Christian world of the twelfth century is shown very dramatically in these figures, for the events of one hot July day in Galilee in 1187 had, in the years that followed, profound repercussions in every part of the Anglo-Norman lands.
The translation of the money collected into practical means for crusading meant the acquisition of both horses and ships. Thus, for example, the king instituted a levy of two palfreys and two sumpter horses on every city and one each from every royal manor, apparently for use by himself and his immediate followers.97 In contrast to Frederick Barbarossa, both Richard and Philip planned to travel by sea. Richard's fleet was assembled from all over his extensive territories: the Anglo-Norman lands carried the greatest burden of taxation, but the ports of the Atlantic coast were essential for the shipping. The aim was to sail first to Lisbon and then to Marseille, where the ships would be met by Richard, although in the event this junction never took place because the fleet did not arrive in time. At Lisbon there were 106 ships, but numbers were increasing all the time: when the fleet left Sicily in the spring of 1191, it had reached a total of 219 vessels of various sorts.98
While Richard's administrators concentrated on the logistics of this huge operation, many thousands of other participants made their own preparations. One such person was Robert IV, lord of Sablé, holder of one of the principal lordships in northern Anjou, situated along the valley of the Sarthe extending north-eastwards to La Suze. Robert was an important figure on the crusade because he was a direct vassal of Richard I and, in early March 1190, was one of the five men appointed as justiciars of the royal fleet. Like many other crusaders, he may not have intended to return, for he was a widower when he set out and joined the Templars when he reached the East. In the second half of 1191, evidently through the king's influence, he became master of the order in succession to Gerard of Ridefort. Indeed, Robert did not return, dying in September 1193. As his charters show, he had made extensive preparations, founding a new monastery, granting exemptions to other local religious houses, ratifying previous donations and repairing past wrongs.99 These actions were given powerful visual endorsement when, in June 1190, just before he departed with the fleet, Robert recognised that he held the fief of Codoingel from the abbey of Evron. He took the abbot onto the roof of the castle keep and from this vantage point showed the estate laid out before them. Then, witnessed by his mother and his son, he brought wine and fell on his knees before him. The abbot was unable to persuade him to rise until he had served him the wine, in return for which he was granted the favour of the house.100 In accordance with his crusade vow, Robert, like thousands of others, was able to set out with his affairs settled and his sins remitted.
The rank-and-file did not mark their departures in charters, but they nevertheless responded in considerable numbers. In a preaching tour of Wales in March and April 1188, Archbishop Baldwin recruited around 3,000 men, most of whom were archers, vital members of an army in which their skills would be needed in sieges, for fighting on the march and in major battles. The men of Gwent, says Gerald of Wales, were more skilled with the bow and arrow than those from other parts of Wales. Even though their bows were fairly rough, at short range they had great penetrative force. ‘You could not shoot far with them; but they are powerful enough to inflict serious wounds in a close fight.’ Even so, enthusiasm was not universal. Gerald describes how some resisted or were dissuaded by their wives and consequently received their just deserts from a vengeful deity.101
Much less is known about the preparations made by the French king, Philip II. Although Philip had begun a process of bureaucratisation and financial development that, by the time of his death in 1223, had transformed Capetian France into a major power, he had made only limited progress by the late 1180s.102 The contract made by Hugh III, duke of Burgundy, with the Genoese on Philip's behalf, in February 1190, was for the transport of 650 knights, 1,300 squires and 1,300 horses: a relatively modest army.103 However, this does not take account of the forces brought by the king's leading vassals, Hugh of Burgundy himself, Philip of Alsace, count of Flanders, and Hugh, count of St-Pol, as well as those such as the Blois-Champagne contingent, which had travelled in advance of the royal army. ‘There did not remain in France,’ says Ambroise, ‘any great men who did not come to the army at Acre at that time, sooner or later.’104
Richard I and Philip II set out from Vézelay in Burgundy on 4 July 1190 in accordance with their previous agreement, but Philip did not arrive in the Holy Land until 20 April 1191, and Richard was even later, only appearing on 8 June.105 This is despite the fact that Roger of Howden believed – admittedly unrealistically – that the sailing time from the southern French ports was about fifteen days.106 Part of the problem was logistical, for nobody had had any experience of transporting soldiers, horses, supplies and equipment on this scale by sea; Richard even thought it necessary to carry especially hard stones from Messina for use in his siege engines.107 Even allowing for such problems, to take nearly a year for a journey of little more than two to three weeks at a time of acute crisis in the siege of Acre seems excessive, and demands some explanation.
At Vézelay, the kings had agreed to meet again at Messina, presumably with the intention of undertaking an autumn passage. Richard arrived on 23 September, a few days after Philip, having waited fruitlessly at Marseille for the fleet.108 Richard had a direct interest in the kingdom as Joanna, his sister, had been married to William II since 1177 and, as his widow, she was entitled to the return of her dower. However, Tancred of Lecce, who had seized the throne after William had died without direct heirs, proved unco-operative, an attitude exacerbated both by Richard's belligerence and the mutual hostility between the crusaders and the local population, as well as by the evident mistrust between the two kings, which Tancred was able to exploit. Eventually, on 4 October, Richard forced Tancred into a settlement by seizing Messina, and Tancred paid 20,000 ounces of gold in lieu of the dower and a further 20,000 ounces claimed under William II's will, as well as contributing four busses and fifteen galleys to the crusade.109
While extra financing for the expedition was evidently welcome, these affairs served to detain Richard late enough in the season to make the passage of a fleet of this size too risky.110 While the besiegers outside Acre suffered in the appalling conditions of the winter of 1190–1, the two kings thus postponed their departure until the spring. During this time they settled their differences over Richard's proposed marriage to Alice, Philip's sister, which had been constantly delayed since 1169 and was now abandoned. Instead, Richard arranged to marry Berengaria of Navarre and she was brought to Sicily at the end of March 1191 by Eleanor of Aquitaine.111 Nevertheless, it was costly to remain in Messina. Ambroise says that both Richard and Philip had to subsidise their foll
owers, who ‘moaned and complained and grumbled at the expense they incurred’.112
Richard finally sailed on 10 April 1191, fortified both by an elaborate ceremony of repentance for his sins undertaken before the English prelates at Messina and by the prophecy of the famous Cistercian abbot Joachim of Fiore that Saladin would be driven out of the Holy Land.113 ‘Never,’ says Ambroise admiringly, ‘has the sun risen over such a rich fleet.’114 Richard took a cautious route via Crete and Rhodes, keeping the coasts in sight, for ships carrying horses needed regular stops to take on water, while galleys could be easily swamped in bad weather.115 Nevertheless, on 12 April, storms broke up the fleet, driving some of his ships well ahead of the main body. Among these were three ships wrecked on the coast of Cyprus, probably on 24 April, causing the drowning of Roger Malcael, Richard's vice-chancellor and seal-bearer.116 Survivors were taken prisoner by Isaac Comnenus, the independent ruler of the island. Other vessels, including the dromond carrying Joanna and Berengaria, were forced into Limassol.
Isaac had been Byzantine governor of Cyprus and, according to Ambroise, had formed his own alliance with Saladin. Ambroise, with an eye on his potential audience, describes Isaac as ‘more treacherous than Judas or Ganelon’, and claims that the alliance had been sealed by drinking each other's blood.117 These apparently chance circumstances caused Richard to launch an attack upon Isaac and, in under a month, between 6 May and 1 June, after meeting comparatively weak resistance, he was able to seize control of the island and to capture Isaac. It was a very useful acquisition, as it was only three days’ sailing from the Palestinian mainland and produced a wide array of foodstuffs, vital for a long campaign.118 Moreover, Isaac was isolated and the island had been there for the taking, as neither Constantinople, from which he had been estranged since 1183, nor Saladin could come to his aid. It was therefore quite possible that the operation was planned in advance; even so, it delayed the king's arrival at Acre even further.119 Indeed, delegations from the mainland, led by Guy of Lusignan and Philip of Dreux, bishop of Beauvais, on 11 and 20 May respectively, did nothing to deflect him from his evident intention of consolidating his hold on the island.120
On 5 June, Richard set out for the Holy Land, landing at Acre three days later. He had spent the previous night before Tyre and then, according to Ambroise, God had sent them a north wind, which blew them south past Scandelion and Casal Imbert. Ambroise is evidently drawing on his own experiences when he describes the king's arrival: ‘Then he saw Acre, clearly exposed, with the flower of the world encamped around it. He saw the slopes and the mountains, the valleys and the plains, covered with Turks and tents and men who had it in their hearts to harm Christianity, all there in very great numbers. He saw the tents of Saladin and those of his brother Saphadin, so near to our Christian army that the pagans pressed upon them.’121
It is significant that Richard could sail so freely down the coast for, despite some notable successes, the Muslim ships had found it difficult to maintain supplies for Acre in the face of the Christian fleets. Even when they did manage to reach the besieged, they often found they could not sail out again, and when Acre did fall, one of the conditions imposed was that the Muslims should not destroy the ships in the harbour. Richard's galleys actually met a large dromond coming from Beirut, loaded with soldiers, camels, weapons and provisions, and after a fierce battle forced the captain to scuttle it. In true epic style, Ambroise puts words into Saladin's mouth: ‘When Saladin heard tell of it he pulled his beard three times, out of sorrow. Then he spoke as a man overcome: “God! Now I have lost Acre, and my people of whom I was sure. You have brought too much misfortune upon me.”’122 Of course, Ambroise did not know what Saladin had actually said, but Ibn Shaddad does interpret the sinking of this ship as one of the signs that the city would fall.123
By this time Philip II was already fully engaged in the siege, having arrived on 20 April. His voyage from Messina to Acre had taken twenty-two days, covering 1,325 miles at an average speed of 2.3 knots, considerably quicker than Richard's much larger fleet which went from Messina to Limassol in thirty days, averaging 1.36 knots over a distance of 1,075 miles.124 Despite ‘Imad al-Din's low opinion of his forces, Philip made an immediate impact.125 Rigord, the Saint-Denis chronicler, says that the whole army welcomed him as ‘an angel of the Lord, with hymns, songs of praise and great effusions of tears’, an understandable reaction given the suffering of the previous months.126 Importantly, his provision of subsidies and the appearance of fresh troops made a huge difference to the morale of an army that had been in a very poor state. Even Ambroise, who never has a good word to say for the French, admits that he ‘had conducted himself well’.127
However, the Muslim sources do not record a major attack until 30 May, which might suggest that it had taken this long to revive the strength and spirits of the besiegers, but the delay may also have been connected to news of the imminent arrival of Richard I. Certainly, the view expressed by Rigord and the Estoire d'Eracles that Philip could have taken the city but instead chose to wait for Richard stretches credibility, given the rivalry between the two kings that had emerged while they were in Sicily.128 As the equally biased author of the second book of the Itinerarium sees it, Philip ‘was eaten up with envy over King Richard's noble character and success’.129 On 4 June, furious assaults with trebuchets were supported by tenacious efforts to fill the fosse which, says Ibn Shaddad, ‘went so far that they were throwing in all their dead horses and, finally, they were even throwing in their own dead’.130 There is no doubt that, although the besiegers had endured a terrible winter, the garrison too was worn down; Ibn al-Athir, always more inclined to be critical of Saladin than the two chroniclers in the sultan's employ, thinks that it had not been properly resupplied during the winter.131 Saladin nevertheless took this new assault very seriously, bringing up forces to Tell al-'Ayadiya in an effort to divert the attackers, apparently with some success as the initial intensity seems to have slackened. Even so, Ibn Shaddad says that this situation lasted until the arrival of King Richard on 8 June.
On the night after Richard's landing, the Muslims could see large fires in the Christian encampment, indicating sizeable reinforcements. ‘Their princes,’ says Ibn Shaddad, ‘had been threatening us with his arrival and deserters had been telling us that they were putting off the great push against the city that they wanted to make until his arrival.’132 Philip II, who in retrospect can be seen to have been planning to return to France as soon as it became possible, wanted to begin a large-scale attack at once. If ever Saladin reflected upon the advice of some of his emirs at the time of Acre's capture that he should destroy the city, it must have been now, for, with the sea covered by Christian ships and the city tightly encircled by trenches, he could do little to help his men within the walls.133 The only barrier to an immediate assault was Richard's state of health, for almost as soon as he landed, he began to suffer from an unidentified illness, called arnaldia or leonardie by the chroniclers, which may have been a recurrence of a previous condition.134 Understandably, he was therefore reluctant to launch an attack, citing the fact that a large part of his fleet, together with the catapults it was carrying, was still detained at Tyre by adverse winds.135
Ibn Shaddad says that the Muslims were heartened when they heard of Richard's illness, but in practice it made little difference to the siege since the Franks were now so numerous that they were able to operate in shifts, leaving the defenders without relief and close to exhaustion. By this time their trebuchets had taken the equivalent of a man's height from the tops of the walls.136 The most serious assault came on 1 July, when an attack led by the French succeeded in breaking down some of the walls.137 The next day the defenders sent a message to Saladin telling him that unless something were done they would be obliged to surrender. Then, on 4 July, to the sultan's consternation, a group of emirs from inside Acre appeared before him to ask for mercy, having fled the city. Particularly shocking was the desertion of ‘Abd al-Qadir al-Halabi, l
eader of an elite regiment, who, according to ‘Imad al-Din, only made amends for his blameworthy act by returning to the city the following night.138
Both sides now realised that the end was near and sporadic talks had been under way since late June, but Christian demands for the release of all prisoners and the restoration of all the coastal cities were too great and on 11 July negotiations broke down. ‘Our scope for finding ways of dealing with them became limited,’ says Ibn Shaddad. On 12 July, a swimmer arrived with a message from the garrison telling Saladin that they were no longer able to continue and soon after ‘Imad al-Din reports that they saw Christian flags flying over the town, although they did not know exactly what had happened. In a passage that rings true, Ibn Shaddad describes how he tried to console a distraught Saladin by reminding him of his past achievements. Even then, however, Saladin had not completely given up, beseeching God to induce the Franks to come out to challenge him in a battle that might turn everything around. ‘The enemy, however’, says Ibn Shaddad, ‘did nothing of the sort.’139
The Crusader States Page 48
