As Frederick fought his way across Asia Minor preparations for the crusade continued in Europe. Preachers toured the West exhorting the people to take the cross to recapture the holy city. Conrad of Montferrat encouraged this in a particularly striking way because he sent a banner that depicted the atrocities committed by Saladin’s men to be displayed at preaching meetings in the West. This mobile advertising hoarding was accompanied by refugees from the Holy Land who told the story of the Muslim invasion in all its grim detail. One of the main reasons why the rulers of England and France were slow to act was the ongoing Angevin-Capetian conflict and the death of King Henry II in July 1189. Once Richard was crowned king of England he began to channel the considerable resources of his lands (which also included Normandy, Poitou, Maine and Aquitaine) towards the cause of the crusade. One of the hallmarks of Richard’s crusading career was his attention to detail and a determination to be as well prepared as possible. As Gillingham has shown (Gillingham, 1999), the king was an experienced military man who had been campaigning for almost two decades by the time of the crusade and he was well aware of the difficulties faced by earlier expeditions, particularly with regard to finance and the problem of non-combatants. It is a testimony to his planning that for much of the crusade Richard was adequately resourced; before setting out he harnessed the Angevin government machine — probably the most sophisticated of the day in Europe — to collect funds. He also decided to sail to the Levant; an effective barrier to the participation of the poor and non-combatants because cost and space on ships would exclude most of the unarmed pilgrims. Henry II had instituted the ‘Saladin tithe’ to raise money for the crusade, but when Richard became king he wanted more. Roger of Howden, a contemporary writer, reported: ‘He put up for sale all he had, offices, lordships, earldoms, sheriffdoms, castles, towns, lands, everything’ (Gillingham, 1989: 133). A taillage was imposed on the Jews in England and a heavy payment was levied on those who had not taken the cross, excepting people whose essential administrative roles required them to remain in the West. Records survive to show how Richard directed some of the funds raised. Over 100 ships were hired or purchased, their crews were paid for and equipment, food and horses were gathered. In 1190 alone, 60,000 horseshoes were purchased (most from the Forest of Dean) and 14,000 cured pig carcasses were delivered from Lincolnshire, Essex and Hampshire.
One reason why resources were needed on such a grand scale was because the reaction to the call for the crusade was so impressive. Archbishop Baldwin of Canterbury attracted a strong response when he toured Wales in early 1188 (a journey vividly described by Gerald of Wales, tr. Thorpe, 1978) and preached for the crusade to the Holy Land. No evidence of an official tour for England exists, but sermons must have been delivered and papal letters read out. Once again, however, the call for a crusade would ignite violent feelings against the Jews as descendants of the killers of Christ and as a group that had the money the crusaders themselves lacked. Horrific massacres took place in towns such as Stamford and King’s Lynn, while in York the oppressed Jewish community chose to take their own lives rather than face the mob. The authorities soon ended these disturbances, but such episodes showed that one particularly grim tradition of crusading could not easily be put to rest.
It is estimated that Richard assembled about 17,000 troops in Sicily in April 1191 (the first such gathering of his entire army), the bulk of these coming from the nobility and their military households. A contingent of Welsh archers, churchmen and camp-followers formed the remainder of his force. King Philip’s preparations had been slower, but he had gathered around 650 knights and 1,300 squires (plus footsoldiers), and planned to use a Genoese fleet to sail to the Levant.
The aims of the Third Crusade and the siege of Acre
With the two kings poised to set out it is worth considering the aims of the expedition at this point and to assess the condition of the crusaders’ opposition. The recapture of Jerusalem was the ultimate objective of the campaign, but events since the fall of the holy city had turned up two further issues that would need to be addressed once the crusade reached the East. One was political: namely, who should be the king of Jerusalem? The other was strategic — the result of the ongoing Frankish siege at Acre. Both of these crises had been precipitated by Saladin’s release of Guy in June 1188. The king went to Tyre to restate his authority as the anointed ruler, but Conrad refused to hand over the city and ignited a conflict that would last until the marquis’s death in April 1192. A further twist would be added by the arrival of the crusade and the political alignments that came with it. Conrad’s rejection of Guy’s authority prompted the latter to act and in August 1189 the king seized the initiative by marching to Acre and laying siege to the city. It was inevitable that his small army would soon be caught between Acre’s garrison and Saladin’s relieving force, but the Christians managed to dig in and could not be dislodged. Guy’s audacity won him considerable support and in April 1190 Conrad recognised him as king. Conditions at the siege were grim for both sides as the Muslims endlessly tried to tempt the Franks into open conflict and the Christians bombarded the city. As with any siege, there were periods of inactivity and Beha ad-Din noted that ‘sometimes the two parties would mingle together singing and dancing . . . and afterwards would begin fighting again’ (Beha ad-Din, tr. Richards, 2001: 100-1). Over the winter of 1189-90 the area became so muddy that the armies had to stop fighting until the spring. Disease was an inevitable companion to the rigours of a long siege; both sides suffered badly and in the autumn of 1190 Guy’s wife, Queen Sibylla, and her daughters died. This tragedy reopened the succession issue because Guy was king only by right of his marriage and the blood-line of the house of Jerusalem now rested in Sibylla’s younger sister, Isabella. If Conrad married her, as he was determined to do, the throne would surely be his. The fact that she was already married (to the ineffectual Humphrey of Toron), that one of Conrad’s own previous wives may have been still alive, and that technically they were related to one another made little difference to the marquis. The courtship was brief: Isabella was abducted and, in spite of her husband’s protests, a Pisan churchman was persuaded to annul their marriage and, on 24 November 1190, she married Conrad. Guy, of course, still claimed the crown for himself. Thus, when the crusade reached the Levant, Richard and Philip would have to arbitrate as to who should rule the kingdom of Jerusalem.
While the situation among the Franks of the Eastern Mediterranean was important to the crusaders, the circumstances of their opponents were of great interest as well. We have seen how hard it was for Saladin to assemble his coalition prior to Hattin and, as the man who had regained Jerusalem, the prestige he had acquired enabled him to keep troops in the field. But his authority in the Muslim world was not unquestioned and the stalemate at Acre did much to take the gloss off his earlier successes. He needed to maintain a large army at the siege and it was essential to bring in reinforcements from various parts of his empire, such as Nubia (southern Egypt) and the Jazira (between the Upper Tigris and Upper Euphrates rivers), to help share the burden. It is worth remembering that from August 1189 onwards many of Saladin’s resources were tied up at Acre and that he had to operate there in the knowledge that western Europe was preparing to throw its full strength against him. He was concerned that the Muslim world should pull together to face this new onslaught and as the tone of the appeals to his co-religionists became increasingly strident, his rising concern was evident. Throughout these trials Saladin’s efforts to lead by example, to share the privations of his troops (he was often ill) and his basic humanity shone through. Several stories relate his generous treatment of Frankish captives and while one must beware the biographers’ panegyric the consistency of the emir’s style in all sources (whether Muslim or Christian) suggests that his reputation was well founded. Such episodes include his kindness in letting an ageing Frankish pilgrim captured at Acre complete his vows, or tell of his efforts to reunite a mother with her stolen infant (see Document 20). Back on
the battlefield, however, in the autumn of 1190 and the early months of 1191, before Richard and Philip reached the East, Saladin made strenuous attempts to dislodge the Franks from Acre, but his efforts achieved little.
The two kings made slow progress on their journey to the East. At a meeting at Vezelay in July 1190 they agreed to split the spoils of conquest equally and then they marched southwards to the coast of France. Some of Richard’s force sailed on to the Holy Land immediately, but the bulk of his troops went first to Messina in Sicily where the king was to remain from September 1190 until April 1191. Given the urgent situation at Acre such a delay seems incomprehensible, but Richard, as usual, had an eye to the longer term. Tancred of Lecce, the ruler of Sicily, owed the English crown a substantial sum of money from the marriage of Joan, Richard’s sister, to Tancred’s predecessor, William II (d. 1189). Richard wanted this money back to ensure his crusade was properly financed and he used both force and diplomacy to get it. In another, less coercive incident, Richard again revealed his hard-headed business sense. He had brought with him the sword believed to be Excalibur, the weapon of King Arthur, hero of medieval romances. Tancred admired the sword so much that Richard suggested he could have it — in return for four ships. Perhaps the English king was sceptical as to the genuineness of the sword. In any case, his desire to provide for his crusade was paramount and Excalibur was duly exchanged. By this time it was winter and the sailing season was over which meant that the crusaders — including the French contingent — had to wait until spring to continue their voyage.
In April 1191 the crusaders set out from Sicily, but as they passed Cyprus a storm blew up and scattered the fleet, driving some boats ashore where their occupants were captured and held by the island’s ruler Issac Comnenus, a renegade member of the Byzantine ruling house and an ally of Saladin. Issac maltreated his prisoners; Richard wrote that, ‘not unnaturally we were spurred to revenge’, and he attacked the island and captured Limassol. On 12 May he married Berengaria and then, with Issac still showing signs of hostility, he decided to take all of Cyprus. The king’s campaign was swift and effective and by the end of May Issac was forced to submit. Richard had no qualms about taking the lands of a fellow-Christian — Issac was, after all, in alliance with Saladin — and by the outright conquest of Cyprus he signalled his strength and determination of purpose. In the long term his actions would be of considerable importance both for the Latin East and for future crusades because Cyprus was a springboard for subsequent expeditions and a place of wealth and safety for the Latins of the Eastern Mediterranean. For Richard it was another source of money. He imposed a 50 per cent levy on all possessions and when an attempt to set up a Greek government under Angevin guidance failed, he sold the island to the Templars for 100,000 bezants. While Richard was on Cyprus he was visited by King Guy, himself a Poitevin (Richard’s first title was duke of Poitou), who wanted help against his rival Conrad of Montferrat. Guy’s appeal was welcomed and he swore homage to Richard, while Conrad had already secured the support of his kinsman, Philip; thus the deep political divisions of the Levant neatly mirrored those of western Europe.
The conclusion of the siege of Acre
Richard arrived at the siege of Acre on 8 June 1191 where he received a rapturous welcome from the Franks. On the Muslim side, Beha ad-Din observed ‘the news of his coming had a dread and frightening effect on the hearts of the Muslims’ (Beha ad-Din, tr. Richards, 2001: 150). Philip’s presence had done little to hasten the fall of the city, but Richard’s wealth, his numerous siege-engines and his personal vigour soon had an effect. A month of intense bombardment, mining and attack and counter-attack took their toll on the desperate defenders. Saladin could not break the Christians’ blockade and Acre was doomed. On 12 July it surrendered; the defenders bought their lives for a ransom of 2,000 gold dinars and the return of 1,500 Frankish prisoners and the True Cross. The Christians entered the city in triumph, although their success was marred by an incident involving Duke Leopold of Austria, who tried to fly his banner from the citadel. While Leopold had been at the siege far longer than Richard and Philip, he was of much lower standing than them and to display his banner alongside those of the kings could not be tolerated. Richard’s men tore down the banner and a furious Leopold left for home, nursing a deep grievance against the Angevin — a grudge he was able to redress by holding Richard prisoner on his journey back to England.
With the conclusion of the siege of Acre it was necessary to resolve who should rule Jerusalem. On 28 July 1191 Richard and Philip decided that Guy would remain king during his lifetime and, when he died, Conrad would succeed him; royal revenues would be divided evenly between the two men. On the surface this seemed an equitable settlement, but Conrad remained dissatisfied and continued to press his case, often refusing to work with Richard and engaging in his own negotiations with Saladin. He was supported by Duke Henry of Burgundy, who took command of the French army after Philip left for home on 3 August 1191. Philip had suffered serious ill-health during the crusade and he needed to intervene in an important political dispute concerning the county of Flanders. His swift departure did little for his reputation, but his presence back in the West would exert a profound influence over the rest of the crusade.
In the meantime Richard had decided to march south to Jaffa. First, he had to deal with the Muslim captives taken at Acre. Possibly because the terms of the surrender had been agreed between the crusaders and the city’s defenders, rather than with Saladin himself, the emir struggled to fulfil the deal and failed to pay the first ransom instalment. Unable to tolerate any delay Richard had the 3,000 Muslim prisoners marched out and massacred by his men. The brutality of this action shocked his enemy and has been bitterly criticised by many writers. His butchery contrasted starkly with Saladin’s generous treatment of the inhabitants of Jerusalem in 1187, although it should be remembered that the Muslim leader had enthusiastically executed the knights of the military orders after Hattin. In reality, however callous his actions seemed, Richard had little choice. The prisoners needed to be fed and guarded; he could not simply release them or they would fight him again; and if, as some suspected, Saladin’s tardiness was merely a delaying tactic to keep him tied down at Acre, the issue had to be dealt with. Pitiless as it was, Richard had to sustain the momentum of the crusaders’ victory at Acre and he set out for Jaffa on 22 August 1191.
The Battle of Arsuf
The march required strict discipline in conditions of intense heat and relentless enemy bombardment. The crusader army marched in close formation with the Templars in the vanguard, Richard’s own forces, those of the kingdom of Jerusalem and the French in the middle, and the Hospitallers at the rear. Outside the knights moved one half of the infantry and archers, while the others travelled with the baggage train that was between the knights and the shore. The fleet sailed alongside the army to keep it supplied — a remarkable feat of seamanship because the prevailing winds in the south-eastern Mediterranean run from south to north which meant the ships had to tack into the wind while keeping in reasonably close contact with the land force. Saladin’s army made endless attempts to provoke the crusaders into battle through their tactics of turn and feint and rained down a constant barrage of arrows and missiles on the Christians, but the crusaders continued to make progress. Saladin realised that he needed to risk a battle and so, on 7 September 1191, on the plains of Arsuf, he chose to fight. His trumpeters and drummers set up a terrible clamour as time and again the Muslims charged through the dust at their opponents. The Franks stood firm, suffering heavy losses of horses, but little else. As the day wore on their patience began to fray and finally two Hospitallers charged the enemy, followed by their fellow-brothers and the French contingent. At this moment Richard’s skill as a general was revealed. While he had expressly forbidden his men to break ranks he immediately recognised what had happened and knew that the attack had to be supported or the Frankish force would become divided up and defeated. He ordered the full might
of the Christian cavalry to charge — one of the rare occasions when this most potent weapon was actually unleashed on the Muslims — and it hammered into the enemy. The central division of the Muslim army buckled first and then the entire force was beaten back and Saladin retreated from the field. Richard had displayed immense personal valour and cut down the enemy with enormous vigour; his committed and clever leadership had dealt a second terrible blow to Saladin’s prestige. The emir had lost relatively few men, but after failure at the siege of Acre to be driven from the field of battle demonstrated the strength of his opponents and meant he would need to hold his forces together for a long campaign to see the back of the crusaders.
The march on Jerusalem
Richard reached Jaffa on 10 September where he decided to pause, rest and refortify the town. The king would have preferred to march south and take Ascalon because it was the link between Syria and Egypt, and Saladin, fully aware of its importance, had just razed it to the ground. The king’s interest in Ascalon reveals his appreciation of wider strategy and of the role of Egypt within this picture. In October 1191 Richard wrote to the Genoese asking them to support a campaign in Egypt, planned for the summer of 1192, in return for the award of substantial privileges. Throughout the thirteenth century the major crusades would try to secure Jerusalem through the capture of Egypt and Richard believed that by appropriating the country’s wealth for the Christians he would be dealing Saladin a fatal blow. Unfortunately the bulk of the army did not share this long-term perspective because most of the crusaders had joined the expedition with the express purpose of capturing the holy city and their determination to accomplish this meant Richard had to agree to march on Jerusalem first.
In parallel to these strategic considerations there ran a complex web of diplomacy. Both sides were aware of the toll that the conflict exerted on one another and each argued their case for the custody of Jerusalem. For Richard, ‘Jerusalem is an object of worship that we [the Christians] could not give up if there were only one of us left’. For Saladin, ‘Jerusalem is even more sacred for us than it is to you, for it is the place from which our Prophet came on his Night Journey . . . [and anyway] as for the land, it is also ours originally’ (Beha ad-Din, tr. Richards, 2001: 186). Neither camp was likely to give any ground, although the internal tensions on each side gave some room for manoeuvre. The division between Richard and Conrad gave the Muslims an opening to exploit and rumours of a rift between Saladin and his brother, al-Adil (known as Saphadin to the Franks), may have led to the improbable suggestion that the latter should marry Richard’s sister, Joan. Nothing came of the idea and the march on Jerusalem began in late October. It was only 80 kilometres or so from Jaffa to the holy city yet by mid-January 1192 the crusaders were still 19 kilometres short of their target. In part this can be explained by the winter rains, in part by Richard’s caution. Far from the reckless hero so often depicted in the history books, he was, in reality, a calculating strategist who left as little as possible to chance. He made sure that the castles along the road were refortified and that his supply lines were as secure as possible. But the closer the army got to Jerusalem, the more the realisation spread, as Richard had long been aware, that it would be almost impossible to hold the city once it was captured (see Document 21). After completing their vows the crusaders would, quite naturally, return home. Who, then, would defend Jerusalem? The resources of the settlers were simply insufficient. The military orders and the nobles of the Latin East emphasised the need to consolidate the coast, rather than over-extending the fragile Frankish settlements, and in mid-January it was decided to turn back. Morale in the crusader army plummeted — the masses felt let down by their leaders and many returned to the variety of secular pleasures on offer in the city of Acre: Richard refortified Ascalon before heading north to try to settle his differences with Conrad. The need to resolve the kingship was made particularly urgent by the news that Philip menaced Normandy and Richard’s brother, John, fomented discontent in England. Such threats had been on the cards ever since Philip left the Levant and they reduced Richard’s options considerably. Meanwhile, Guy’s position was growing weaker because the majority of the Jerusalemite nobility supported Conrad; pragmatic as ever, Richard recognised this and called a council to debate the matter. They unanimously decided that Conrad should be crowned king while Guy should be given the rich consolation prize of Cyprus. The Templars had proven brutal and unpopular rulers and still owed Richard part of the purchase cost so they were easily persuaded to part with the island. Conrad was never to become king, however. On 28 April 1192 he was murdered on the streets of Tyre by two Assassins dressed as monks. Who had commissioned such an act? Was it the marquis’s longstanding enemy, Richard? Was it Saladin? Or had the Assassins themselves borne a grudge against him? The truth will never be known, but the finger of blame pointed strongly at Richard and the fact that he travelled back through Europe in disguise suggests that, whatever his complicity in the matter, he had to take measures to deal with such accusations and the ill-will generated by these rumours.
The Crusades 1095-1197 Page 21
