by Robert Payne
This was a bad time for leaving, because the Emperor Manuel Comnenus, in a gesture that showed he had forgiven the loss of an entire fleet, was preparing to offer the king of Jerusalem another fleet for the conquest of Egypt, but only on condition that Philip lead the expedition. Philip studied the situation and concluded that this new invasion of Egypt would be suicidal. He had evidently read reports by the captains of the previous invasion and talked to the survivors. He spoke a little too loudly. The emperor’s ambassadors heard of it, and William of Tyre, who acted as the chief negotiator, felt that Philip was being unnecessarily frivolous. Philip thereupon offered to obey the king in all things, even to leading the Egyptian expedition; but then he retracted the offer, saying that he had no interest in fighting but only in making pilgrimages.
Having lost hope that Philip would serve in any notable capacity, and being desperately in need of a captain-general who would take command of the kingdom in the absence of the king or when the king was incapacitated by his illness, the barons with the king’s assent began to search for a new regent. Their choice fell on Reynald of Châtillon, the former prince of Antioch, who was described by William of Tyre as “a man of proven loyalty and remarkable steadfastness.” He became regent of the kingdom and commander in chief of the army, and it was declared that he would be assisted by Raymond of Tripoli, the implication being that Raymond would share the power with him. Power, therefore, was divided between three men: the king, Reynald of Châtillon and Raymond of Tripoli. This was an unworkable division of power, and in fact the power remained in the hands of the king, who recovered from his malaria, although his leprosy progressed apace.
When Raymond and Philip joined forces to attack Hims and Hama—Philip could hardly return home without taking part in fighting against the enemy—the king as a mark of his goodwill lent them a thousand knights and two thousand foot soldiers. This was a mistake for, according to William of Tyre, the king was now left with a pathetically small army numbering no more than 375 men “including all ranks and conditions.”
While Philip and Raymond were fighting in the north, Saladin decided to attack from the south. He had an excellent intelligence system, knew that the king’s army was pathetically small, and believed he had been presented with an opportunity to destroy the kingdom once and for all with the help of an army so large, so overwhelming, and so well provisioned that the Crusaders would be quite unable to stand up against it. William of Tyre says his army consisted of twenty-six thousand light-armed cavalry, at least eight thousand men on camels or beasts of burden, and another thousand men who served as Saladin’s bodyguard, all of them wearing yellow silk over their breastplates like Saladin himself.
The king also possessed an excellent intelligence system. He knew that Saladin, with his huge army, was marching on Ascalon. With Bishop Albert of Bethlehem holding up the True Cross, the king’s army rushed to Ascalon, occupying it only a few hours before Saladin came up to the city’s walls and began to lay siege to it. Then Saladin had second thoughts. There was no need to lay siege. Knowing how many men were hidden behind the walls, Saladin decided that it was possible to bypass and thus isolate them. All Judaea lay before him. Jerusalem and the coastal cities were at his mercy, or so he thought.
The main body of the Egyptian army swept onward to Ramleh, which they burned, and on to Lydda, where the entire population took refuge in the Church of St. George, and to the outskirts of Jerusalem, where the population crowded into the Tower of David. Farms were burned, villagers were massacred, stragglers were cut down, while Saladin, supremely confident of his power, prepared to lay siege to Jerusalem.
Meanwhile, Baldwin IV summoned the knights defending Gaza, which Saladin had also bypassed, and slipped out of Ascalon with all the forces he could muster, marching up the coastal road and preparing to do battle with Saladin against all odds, for the alternative was to see all of Judaea in the hands of the conqueror. He came with perhaps two hundred knights and five hundred infantrymen. They saw the burning villages and were determined to hurl themselves at Saladin’s army wherever they could find it.
On November 25, 1177, Saladin’s army was crossing the bed of a wadi near the castle of Montgisard, only a few miles southeast of Ramleh, when the Christians fell upon them. The crossing of the wadi was a confused and ill-organized operation. The Muslims felt so safe that they posted no guards. The heavily armed knights charged into them and, like a great hammer striking them at the point of greatest weakness, they shattered the Egyptian army. The hammer came from the north, the least expected direction. From the neighborhood of the castle of Montgisard, the remnants of Saladin’s army fled in wild disorder. The Christian soldiers spent days retrieving the treasure scattered by the Muslims, including enough swords and lances to equip an army twenty times larger than their own. Saladin’s army was pursued for twelve miles; the Christians showed very little mercy. The region south of Ramleh was filled with Egyptians wandering, weaponless, in the direction of Egypt.
On the following day, and for the ten succeeding days, the rains fell. There were thunderstorms, the temperature dropped, and the Egyptians died of hunger. Most of them were on foot, for they had lost their horses. Day after day, prisoners were brought in from the forests and mountains, even from the desert. Those who reached al-Arish were plundered by the Bedouin. Some Egyptians, lost in the Holy Land, begged for food from villagers, who either killed them or handed them over to the military.
Saladin, Sultan of Egypt and Damascus, drawing his troops from all over the Arab world, with a vast army of Egyptians, Turks, Nubians, Kurds, Sudanese and even Ethiopians, fled before two hundred knights and a leper king. The victory seemed to be a gift from God. Had the king not dismounted from his horse and thrown himself down on the ground before the True Cross, pleading for divine intervention, while tears ran down his face? His soldiers had been moved to tears by the sight of the king prostrate before the Cross. Later some of them would say that they had seen the Cross glowing above them, so huge that it touched the walls of heaven, and there were some who said they saw St. George fighting at their sides. The king was now seventeen years old, wasted by disease, his face white and corpselike, and he fought in the vanguard.
Saladin was well aware that he had suffered a major defeat. He wrote a famous poem to his brother Turanshah in Damascus:
I thought of thee, amid the thrusting
of their spears,
While the straight browned blades
quenched their thirst in our blood.
He went on, “Again and again we were on the verge of destruction; nor would God have delivered us save for some future duty.”
Three months later, he was at the head of his army in Syria. There were a few raids, but the main fighting was now localized around Banyas and a place called Jacob’s Ford on the Upper Jordan, between Lake Huleh and the Sea of Galilee, where the king had built a castle on an eminence. The castle commanded the road that runs from Tiberias to Qoneitra, although there was an unwritten understanding that the Christians would not build a castle there because Muslim merchants often traveled along this road. The castle was, therefore, an affront to Saladin, as the king well knew.
When the fortress was completed, the king learned that some Muslims, searching for new pastures, had incautiously led their flocks and herds into a forest near Banyas. He ordered a night march, and in the morning the sheep and cattle were captured. It is possible that the booty was the bait, for suddenly the Christians who found themselves in a narrow space were being shot at from all sides. The king was in great danger, and was saved only by Humphrey of Toron, the Constable of the kingdom, an elderly man, who threw himself in front of the king and saved his life at the cost of his own.
Saladin then turned his attention to the great fortress built at Jacob’s Ford, which was very nearly impregnable. Arrows fell like rain on the fortress. There were massive assaults on the walls. The Christians held firm, and one of the chief emirs was killed, with the result that the Muslim
army panicked and fled in confusion.
Leaving the River Jordan, Saladin decided to destroy the harvests between Beirut and Sidon. The king quickly learned that farms and villages were being put to the flames, marshaled his army at Tiberias, and set off in pursuit of the raiders, catching up with Saladin’s main army when they themselves were exhausted after a long march. Saladin’s army swooped down on them. In the first engagement the Christians were victorious, but a second engagement showed that Saladin had not lost his mastery of his troops, and he hurled the remnants of his beaten army against the Christians with devastating effect. The Christians fled, lost themselves in a defile with steep cliffs on either side, and were butchered by the pursuing Muslims. There was worse to come, for Saladin advanced on the castle of Jacob’s Ford, now defended only by garrison troops, captured it, massacred everyone in it, and razed the castle to the ground.
These Christian reverses—the great battle near Banyas and the loss of the castle of Jacob’s Ford—might have been more damaging if Saladin’s forces were not also suffering from exhaustion. On both sides there were heavy losses. So it happened that Saladin and Baldwin IV concluded a two-year truce, confirmed by solemn oaths and seals. Hunger was stalking the Muslim lands; bad harvests and drought were sapping Saladin’s strength. He needed a period of rest, and the dying king also needed to rest. But the truce signed in the summer of 1180 provided only a brief hiatus before the most disastrous battle fought by the Christians in the Holy Land.
In a church, Peter the Hermit and Arnous, chaplain of the Duke of Normandy, preach the Crusade while men go to confession. (Bibliotheque Nationale, Ms. Fr. 5594, f. 91vo)
Egyptians and Turks taken prisoner by the Crusaders at a port. (from Livres des Passages d’Outremer, 15th century ms., Bibliotheque Nationale, Ms. Fr. 5594, f. 143vo)
The 1390 Genoese and French expedition to Barbary. (The British Library Board, Ms. 4379, f. 60b)
The Turkish siege of Constantinople (1453). (Bibliotheque Nationale, Ms. Fr. 9087, F. 207vo)
Crusaders approach Nicaea and bombard the city with the heads of their captives. (From Les Histories d’Outremer, 13th century ms., Bibliotheque Nationale, Ms. Fr. 2630, f. 63v, 38v, and 22v)
The King of France’s departure from the west for the crusades. (Bibliotheque Nationale, Ms. Fr. 908 7, f. 9)
Bertrandon de la Brocquiere offers a translation of the Koran and the history of Mohammed to Philip the Good as he leaves the abbey of Pothieres during the siege of Mussy-l’Eveque (1433). (Bibliotheque Nationale, Ms. Fr. 9087, f. 152vo)
Battle scenes. (Top left) A party led by Robert, Count of Flanders, attacks during the First Crusade. (Bottom left) Combat at Thessalonica. (Top right) Crusaders routing enemies. (Bottom right) The Siege of Antioch, October 21, 1097, to June 3, 1098, ended when Bohemond’s men climbed a ladder, captured three towers, killed many Turks, and opened a gate to their fellow Crusaders. (New York Public Library)
(from a 15th century ms., School of Bourguignone, New York Public Library Picture Collection)
The Siege of Ascalon (Bibliotheque National, Ms. Fr. 5594)
Crusaders battle with Saladin’s forces. (Bibliotheque Nationale, Ms. Fr. 5594, f. 197)
Massacre of the Witnesses (from an apocalypse, 13th century, British Library Board, Ms. Add. 42555, f. 30v)
Christ leading the crusaders. (from an apocalyse, early 14th century, British Library Board, Ms. Roy. 19/B xv, f. 37)
Crusaders besieging a walled town. (from Chroniques de France, late 14th century, The British Library Board, Ms. Roy. 20, c. vii, f. 100v)
Crusader heavy infantry with archer support wait to assault a city when guns breach the walls. (British Library Board)
The Turks attack the army of Louis VII on a mountain in Anatolia. The advance guard, commanded by Geoffroy de Rancon, goes back down the mountain and sets up its camp. (Bibliotheque Nationale, Ms. Fr. 55 94, f. 143vo)
Crusaders sally from a walled city to engage Muslims. “The very noble and excellent history of the holy chronicles of foreign lands and noble chevaliers, written and commentated on by the brave, valiant, and holy man Godefroy de Bouillon.” (14th century) (Bibliotheque Nationale, Ms. Fr. 3 52, f. 49)
A 19th- or early 20th-century rendering of an unnamed Crusader battle. (New York Public Library Picture Collection)
Crusader column crossing the field of a previous battle. (New York Public Library Picture Collection)
Crusaders at prayer at an encampment in the Levant. (New York Public Library Picture Collection)
The taking of Jerusalem, 1099, as envisioned by a 14th century French artist. (Bibliotheque Nationale)
The seal of Richard the Lion Hearted (The Public Record Office, London)
The seal of the Templars (The British Library Board, seal cxxxv 4 and 3)
Crusader doing homage. (From an English 13th century psalter, The British Library Board, Ms. Roy. 2A XXII, f. 220)
The sea castle of Sidon, built by the Crusaders to protect the harbor in the winter of 1227-28. (National Council of Tourism in Lebanon)
Beaufort Castle. The site was captured from the Emir Shehab al-Din by King Fulk of Anjou in 1139 and handed over to the Frankish seigneurs of Sidon, who built the castle. (National Council of Tourism in Lebanon)
The Horns of Hattin, scene of the most devastating Crusader defeat. The Sea of Galilee is in the foreground. (Bar-David Agency)
Refectory of the Order of St. John in Acre. (Bar-David Agency)
Knight’s Hall of Belvoir fortress (Bar-David Agency)
David’s Tower, Jerusalem (Bar-David Agency)
Lions’ Gate, Jerusalem (Bar-David Agency)
The ivory covers of the Melisend Psalter (1131-43) depicting a king performing acts of mercy. They are the only surviving works in ivory from the Crusader domains. (The British Library Board, Ms. Egerton 1139)
An illustration of the adoration of the Magi from the Melisend Psalter. (The British Library Board, Ms. Egerton 1139, f.2)
Crusader art eventually began to manifest a strong Islamic influence. (Freer Gallery of Art, the Smithsonian Institution)
King Baldwin IV
Against Saladin
THE star of Saladin was in the ascendant, and the star of the king of Jerusalem was waning. For all his courage and intelligence, the young king of Jerusalem, now emaciated, his hands and face eaten away by his disease, could no longer dominate his affairs, while Saladin was in the prime of life.
Saladin was not his real name. It was a name he gave himself: Salah al-Din, meaning “Rectifier of the Faith.” His real name was Yusuf ibn Ayyub (Joseph, son of Job). He was a slender man of middle height, dark-bearded and dark-eyed, dark-complexioned, and given to dark thoughts. Saladin was learned in theology and liked nothing better than listening to theologians as they propounded the Koran, engaging in their discussions. He was not indifferent to the pleasures of life: it was simply that he viewed his responsibilities with the gravity that seemed to place him beyond corruption.
In this respect, he differed from nearly all the caliphs and sultans of the East. Even when they were perfectly aware that by being corrupt they endangered their power, they usually permitted themselves to be seduced. Hence their short-lived dynasties, and the fierce battles over the succession. Saladin detested the panoply of power, lived unostentatiously, and deliberately arranged his life so that he could die poor. In Egypt, for example, he lived in a house not very much larger than a cottage, although, if it had pleased him, he could have lived in sumptuous magnificence in a palace with four thousand rooms. Within the palace were storerooms full of jewels; he gave them away or endowed schools, colleges, and hospitals with them or used them to pay the army.
He was accessible to all men, listened patiently to petitioners, and saw that no one left his presence without satisfaction. He forbade flattery, saying it was a waste of time and an insult to the intelligence, and if by accident or design someone acted too freely toward him, he usually laughed it off.
From the sto
ries told about him by his companions we receive a clear picture of him: gentle, kindly, compassionate. Yet this same man was capable of a blind bloodlust against Crusaders who fell into his hands; even though a moment later he might treat them with exquisite courtesy, remembering that they were men like himself. His detestation of the Crusaders, especially when they broke their promises and their oaths, was so deep-rooted that he threatened to pursue them back to their own cities. One day he told his friend Baha ad-Din: “I think that when God grants me victory over the rest of Palestine, I shall divide my territories, make a will stating my wishes, then set sail on this sea for their far-off lands and pursue the Franks there, so as to free the earth from anyone who does not believe in Allah, or die in the attempt.”
Baha ad-Din was not in the least astonished by the sultan’s threat to wage war through Europe; what amazed him was the thought of Saladin sailing on a ship through mountainous waves. “You, who are the bulwark of Islam, should not risk your life on shipboard,” he told Saladin.
“Now,” said Saladin, “I shall put a question to you. What is the most noble death?”
“Death in the path of Allah.”
“Well then, the worst that can befall me is the most noble of deaths.”
