by Robert Payne
Meanwhile, the Christian army fortified Jaffa, throwing up a new wall and digging a ditch in front of it. The city was partially rebuilt: Richard did not think it was worth rebuilding and argued with the Franks, saying that it was more important to attack the enemy at Ascalon than to pile brick upon brick. Yet there was no doubting the way the army felt. They wanted to stay in Jaffa, where there was an abundance of fruit, and where a man might stretch his legs a little leisurely, knowing that he was close to Jerusalem. Richard, who hated leisure, had other thoughts. He wanted action, and was continually on the move.
One day, with a small escort, he went out hawking, intending to fall upon any small group of Saracens he met on the journey. After a long ride, he dismounted and fell asleep. His companions also slept, and when the armed Saracens found them, Richard had enough time only to gird on his sword and mount Fauvel before the attack came. Richard rushed upon them, wielding his sword, and suddenly the Saracens took flight and the Christians went hurrying after them. An ambush had been skillfully prepared, and all the Christians fell into it. The Saracens thought they recognized the king and surrounded him. At this moment one of Richard’s closest friends, William of Pratelles, shouted in their language, “I am the king! I am the melech!” The Saracens turned around, captured William of Pratelles, and rode off with him: for the king was worth a king’s ransom. Four knights were killed in this engagement, and although Richard attempted to pursue the Saracens, they were already too far away by the time the Christian army could be summoned to go after them.
The nobles of the Kingdom of Jerusalem begged Richard never to go out again without a heavily armed escort. He listened to them politely and went on doing as he pleased.
What pleased him most was the thought of conquering Jerusalem. His plans were far advanced. He proposed to mount a massive attack on Jerusalem after transforming Jaffa into an impregnable base of operations. He had calculated the exact date of his arrival: January 13, 1192.
A LETTER FROM RICHARD I, COEUR DELION, KING OF ENGLAND, TO HIS FAITHFUL SUBJECTS, FROM JOPPA, OCTOBER 1, 1191.
RICHARD, BY THE GRACE OF GOD, KING OF ENGLAND, Duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, Earl of Anjou, to N., his dearly beloved and faithful subject, greeting!
Know that after the taking of Acre and the departure of the King of France, who so basely abandoned the purpose of his pilgrimage and broke his vow, against the will of God to his eternal shame and the shame of his realm, we took the road to Joppa. We were nearing Arsuf when Saladin swept down on us with a mighty host of Saracens. But by the mercy of God we lost no knights on this day save one. This was James of Avesnes, a man dearly beloved by the whole army, and rightly so, for he had proved himself during many years’ service in the Christian army, a man of great valour, vigorous and devout in holiness and sincerity of the faith, so that he was like the mainstay and support of the whole army.
So, through God’s will, we came to Joppa, which we fortified with a ditch and a wall, because it was our purpose to defend the interests of Christianity to the utmost of our power. On the second day, the Vigil of the Nativity of the Blessed Mary, Saladin lost an infinite number of great men, and being put to flight, in the absence of all help and counsel, he laid waste the whole land of Syria. On the third day before the defeat of Saladin, we were ourselves wounded on the left side with a javelin, but by the grace of God we have now recovered from the wound. Know also that with God’s grace we hope within twenty days after Christmas to recover the holy city of Jerusalem and the Sepulchre of our Lord, and after this we will return to our own land.
Witness our own hand at Joppa, the first day of October.
Richard’s letter to his subjects in England and France took the form of a brief war bulletin, sketchy and incomplete, with just enough information to whet their appetites. Once Jerusalem was conquered, he intended to return to the West. The hope and the passion lay in the words, “We hope within twenty days after Christmas to recover the holy city.” He was giving himself a little more than three and a half months to conquer the city. By Easter his own Crusade would come to an end, and others would take over the command of the Christian army.
A war bulletin must be reasonably concise and factual, and there are usually important omissions and evasions. What Richard was really thinking was conveyed in a letter written on the same day to the abbot of Clairvaux, urging that the greatest possible aid be sent to the Holy Land, and hinting that unless the aid was forthcoming, the results might be disastrous. Here is the letter he wrote in a more chastened mood, full of Christian feeling and with obvious devotion to the abbot.
A LETTER FROM RICHARD I, COEUR DELION, KING OF ENGLAND, TO THE ABBOT OF CLAIRVAUX, FROM JOPPA, OCTOBER 1, 1191.
RICHARD, BY THE GRACE OF GOD, KING OF ENGLAND, Duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, Earl of Anjou, to the venerable and most dearly beloved friend in Christ, the Abbot of Clairvaux, health and a succession of continued prosperity.
After the mournful and universally bewailed loss of the holy city of Jerusalem, the city of the living God, in favor of which His name was invoked, the earth was alarmed and trembled, because the King of Heaven had lost His own land, the land upon which His feet had trod. But the blessing of God being diffused from the Apostolic See throughout the whole earth, the friends of the Cross of Christ, as Your Holiness is not unaware, vying with each other, pressed onward to assume the sign of the Cross on their foreheads and on their shoulders, and to avenge the injuries done to the Holy Cross.
These people and ourselves shared the task of serving the living God when they took the sign of the Cross for the purpose of defending the scenes of His death which had been made holy by His precious blood, and which the enemies of the Cross of Christ had hitherto disgracefully profaned. . . .
. . . The road between Acre and Joppa is a very long one: we reached Caesarea with great hardship and lost many men. Saladin also—for he marched alongside us—lost many men. After the Christian army had rested for a while at Caesarea, we followed the road to Joppa. Our vanguard had pitched their tents at Arsuf when Saladin attacked our rearguard with a mighty host of Saracens. By the favoring grace of the divine mercy he was put to flight by only four battalions who faced about and set themselves against him, and for a whole league he was pursued in his flight by the entire Christian army. Thus there came about the slaughter of many of the emirs Saladin brought with him, at Arsuf, on the vigil of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary. Never in all his forty years had there been a day like this. . . .
Since the day when Saladin was thoroughly discomfited, he has not dared to do battle with the Christians, but like a lion in his den, he has been secretly lying in ambush on higher ground in order to slay the friends of the Cross as though they were sheep for the slaughter.
And so, through God’s guidance, we reached Joppa, and strengthened it with a trench and a wall, making it our purpose to strengthen and promote the interests of Christianity to the utmost extent.
Meanwhile Saladin, hearing that we intended to march on Ascalon with great speed, gave orders that it should be levelled to the ground, and he has deserted and set at nought the whole land of Syria, as though he were utterly bereft of good councillors. For this reason we have hope that in a short time, by the mercy of God, the inheritance of the Lord will be entirely recovered. And since the inheritance of the Lord has already in some measure been recovered, and we have in this recovery endured all the heat and burden of the day, and have now exhausted all our money, and not only our money, but our strength and body as well. Therefore we say to your brethren that we cannot remain in Syria after the coming Easter.
The Duke of Burgundy and the Franks placed under his command, Count Henry with his troops, and the other earls, barons, and knights who, in the service of God, have expended their means on behalf of God, will all return home unless you by your skill in preaching can bring timely assistance to us, in men by whom the land may be peopled and defended, and in money, which they may expend more freely in the service of God.
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Falling at the feet of Your Holiness and shedding tears, we proffer our humble entreaties and do most earnestly beseech you that, according to your duty and your honor, you will do everything possible to induce the princes and nobility of Christendom, and the rest of the people of God, to offer their services to the living God and make sure they do so.
After Easter it will be their turn to protect and defend the Kingdom of the Lord, and by that time, with God’s mercy, we shall have gained possession of much more of the Holy Land. And may you act so earnestly on our behalf that nothing may be lost through neglect on your part concerning the common advantage that all Christendom so ardently awaits. It is for this reason that in these early days we address to Your Holiness our letters touching the interests of Christianity to the end that we may not be reproached with sloth or negligence, as we would rightly be if perchance we had failed to forewarn a person of your position and of so holy a life concerning the urgent needs of Christendom. Even before we resolved to go on this Crusade, you encouraged us and the rest of the people of God to enter the service of God, and to restore His inheritance to Him, so now also does the most urgent necessity call you to arouse the people of God to act as I have mentioned.
Witness ourselves at Joppa on the first day of October.
Richard’s letter to the abbot of Clairvaux reveals the true situation as distinguished from the war bulletin issued to his subjects. He was saying to the abbot, among other things, that everything depended on him. He was asking the abbot to become another Urban II.
A great many things were going wrong with the Christian army. A large number of soldiers and many knights had slipped away by sea to Acre, and Richard himself had to take ship to Acre and order them back to Jaffa again. In Cyprus, too, there were mounting troubles, as the Viceroy, Robert of Turnham, confronted a rebellion by men still loyal to Isaac Comnenus. Richard decided to sell the island to the Templars on the grounds that they alone were capable of exerting the discipline to keep the native Cypriots in subjection and they alone could afford to pay for it. Conrad of Montferrat, the husband of Queen Isabelle, was conspiring with the help of the Genoese to become master of the kingdom. Reports came that Conrad was negotiating with Saladin.
At the same time Richard himself was carrying on ineffective negotiations with Saphadin, Saladin’s brother. His ambassador was Humphrey of Toron, the first husband of Queen Isabelle, by now a considerable Arabic scholar and a practiced negotiator. Richard reposed a great trust in him. Humphrey, speaking for Richard, made an outright demand for Jerusalem and all the territory west of the Jordan, together with the return of the Holy Cross. Saphadin demurred. The Holy Cross was perhaps subject to negotiation but Jerusalem belonged to Islam.
Warming up, Richard made new proposals: Saladin should give all the disputed lands, and immediately afterward Saphadin should marry Joanna, the Dowager Queen of Sicily. As a dowry Joanna should receive all the coastal cities at present in the hands of the Crusaders. Saphadin and Joanna should rule from Jerusalem. In this way Richard hoped to make his favorite sister Queen of Jerusalem. It was a brilliant and impractical solution to an insoluble problem. Richard forgot to ask Joanna whether she approved of the idea, and he was a little surprised to learn that she had not the least intention of becoming the wife of a Muslim. She was adamant. The plan, which had seemed so hopeful, was abruptly discarded. Richard, seeing that his vision of peace had been an illusion, decided upon war. He would attack Jerusalem.
The news of the forthcoming attack reached Saladin within a few days. He was ready for it. From his camp at Ramleh he sent a small army against Richard’s forces outside Jaffa. The attack failed, and Richard pursued the attackers and drove them back to the plain of Ramleh. In heavy armor, brandishing sword and lance, carving off limbs and heads like a trained butcher, he sometimes appeared to be a one-man army.
Richard alternated between pressing his advantages and withdrawing to consolidate his forces. The skirmishes on the plain of Ramleh continued, and once he rode close enough to Saladin’s tent to salute it. On another occasion, a foraging party which included the earl of Leicester and the count of Saint-Pol, together with an escort of Templars, was surprised and surrounded by a large body of Turkish cavalry. The Templars dismounted, formed a square, and prepared to fight to the last man, with little hope that there would be any survivors. Richard, who had a habit of arriving providentially when his troops were in extreme danger, rode up just in time. Warned that he would almost certainly be killed if heentered the battle, he turned to his escort and said, “I sent these men here. If they die without me, may I never be called king again!” Then he spurred his horse and charged against the enemy, his sword flashing and his gold crown gleaming. The enemy scattered. Among the Crusading kings, Richard alone followed heroic words with heroic acts.
He was still planning to conquer Jerusalem when he met once more with Saladin’s envoys and arranged to hold a conference with Saphadin at Lydda. The conference took place in a large tent; gifts were exchanged; minstrels sang; Syrian dancing girls performed; and there were protestations of eternal friendship on both sides. Saladin was also negotiating with Conrad of Montferrat, who was prepared to offer Acre to the Saracens in exchange for Sidon and Beirut. Saladin’s envoys were impressed by his arguments until it occurred to them to ask him whether he was prepared to fight Richard. Conrad demurred.
At Christmas, Richard set up his headquarters at Latrun, on the edge of the Judaean desert. Joanna, Berengaria, and Guy of Lusignan, with their retinues, celebrated Christmas with him. When the army moved up to Beit Nuba, only twelve miles from Jerusalem, there was wild enthusiasm, for the Holy City, though hidden behind a fold in the hills, seemed to be within reach. The sick and wounded in Jaffa were carried up to Beit Nuba in the hope that they would soon be brought to the Holy Sepulchre, where their sicknesses would be cured and their wounds healed. The soldiers sang hymns, prayed, and prepared themselves for the assault on Jerusalem. Richard studied plans and listened to his spies, and at last concluded that Jerusalem was nearly impregnable; even if he was able to capture the city, he would be unable to hold it for more than a few days.
Winter storms raged. The land was under water, the tent poles sometimes broke in the high winds, the rain rotted the soldiers’ salted pork and rusted their coats of mail. It was decided to carry the sick and wounded back to Jaffa; but along the way nearly all of them were massacred. Christmas week, which had begun so hopefully, ended disastrously.
Jerusalem, so close, was still a dream. Richard was compelled to retreat to the coast. The retreat was accompanied by the worst storms anyone could remember. Baggage carts floundered in the mud; men sank to their waists in the marshes; horses were drowned. A dispirited army at last reached Ascalon. Urgent messages were sent to Jaffa for provisions, for there was no harbor at Ascalon and ships riding offshore had been dashed to pieces. Richard, who knew a good deal about shipbuilding, ordered that all the flotsam and jetsam should be carefully collected and used for building new ships.
When the army arrived at Ascalon, they found a city Saladin had reduced to rubble; they had to climb over heaps of stones to enter it. Richard set everyone to work. Knights and esquires, laymen and clerics, masters and servants, and great noblemen found themselves new occupations as masons and bricklayers. Richard himself carried stones to the walls. He was determined to rebuild the city, to make it a bastion of Crusader strength in the south.
Meanwhile, Guy of Lusignan and Conrad of Montferrat were still quarreling over the kingship. Guy was in Acre, supported by the Pisans. Conrad remained in Tyre, and the Genoese in Acre supported him. The people of Acre were battling in the streets on behalf of their favorites. When Conrad set sail for Acre, the Pisans got word of it, and when his ship approached the seawalls of the city, the Pisans let fly with their mangonel and kept up their bombardment for three days. Richard was in Caesarea when he heard that Conrad’s ship was being bombarded from shore batteries. He set spurs to his horse, reached Acr
e the same night, and immediately called for a truce between the rival kings. After meeting Conrad, he concluded that Guy had a more legitimate right to the throne. Richard returned to Ascalon, ill-at-ease.
Though he was deeply respected, as the one truly legitimate king in the Holy Land, Richard was not the ultimate arbiter. The barons and chieftains met in council and decided that Conrad should have the kingly powers because he had all the makings of a war leader, while Guy was irremediably tainted by his failure at the battle of Hattin. The councillors did not know that Conrad was in secret correspondence with Saladin and voted for him with a clear conscience.
Neither they nor Saladin had the opportunity to find out what sort of king Conrad would have made because only a few days later, on April 28, 1192, while returning at night from the bishop’s palace in Tyre, he was stabbed to death by hired assassins.
The Old Man of
the Mountain
THE murder of Marquis Conrad of Montferrat, King of Jerusalem, was one of those acts that confound the historian because the real motive behind it cannot be discerned. It may have been the result of a private quarrel, for he was a man who would think nothing of insulting high officers on his staff. Some believed that the assassination was ordered by Richard Coeur de Lion, and Saladin’s envoy in Tyre reported that the assassins under torture confessed that the king of England had instigated the murder. On the other hand, Ibn al-Athir, who possessed a healthy dislike for Saladin, wrote that Conrad was murdered at Saladin’s orders by arrangement with the Old Man of the Mountain, the head of the order of zealots known as Hashishiyun, or Assassins. Ibn al-Athir believed that the plan was to murder Conrad and Richard simultaneously, but Richard was too well protected. Others say that neither Richard nor Saladin had anything to do with it, and the murder was ordered by the Old Man of the Mountain for his own reasons.
