‘The kings of the earth, and all the inhabitants of the world, would not have believed that the adversary and the enemy should have entered into the gates of Jerusalem.’ LAMENTATIONS IV, 12
Bad news travels fast. The battle of Hattin had hardly been fought and lost before messengers hurried westward to inform the princes of Europe; and they were soon followed by others telling of the fall of Jerusalem. Western Christendom learned of the disasters with consternation. In spite of all the appeals that had come from the kingdom of Jerusalem in recent years, no one in the West, except perhaps at the Papal Court, had realized the urgency of the danger. The knights and pilgrims that had journeyed eastward had found in the Frankish states a life more luxurious and gay than any that they had known at home. They heard tales of military prowess; they saw commerce flourishing. They could not comprehend how precarious was all this prosperity. Now, suddenly, they heard that it was all ended. The Christian army had been destroyed; the Holy Cross, most sacred of the relics of Christendom, was in the hands of the infidel; and Jerusalem itself was taken. In the spare of a few months the whole edifice of the Frankish East had collapsed; and if anything was to be rescued from the ruins, help must be sent, and sent quickly.
The refugees who had survived the disaster were crowded together behind the walls of Tyre, their courage maintained by the ruthless energy of Conrad of Montferrat. The lucky chance of his arrival had saved the city from surrendering; and one by one the lords that had escaped from Saladin’s clutches joined him there, gratefully accepting his leadership. But they all knew that without assistance from the West their chances of holding Tyre were small and their chances of recovering lost land were none. In the lull that followed Saladin’s first attack on Tyre, when he passed on to conquer Northern Syria, they had sent the most revered of their colleagues, Josias, Archbishop of the city, to tell the Pope and the kings of the West in person how desperate was their need. About the same time the survivors amongst the Military Orders wrote round to impress upon their western brothers the same anxious story.
The Archbishop set sail from Tyre in the late summer of 1187 and arrived after a swift voyage at the court of King William II of Sicily. He found the King deeply distressed by rumours of the disaster. When he learned of its full extent William dressed himself in sackcloth and went into a retreat for four days. Then he wrote to his fellow-monarchs to urge them to join a Crusade and himself prepared to send as soon as possible an expedition to the East. He had a war with Byzantium on his hands. In 1185 his troops had attempted to capture Thessalonica and had been heavily defeated; but his fleet was still cruising in Cypriot waters, giving help to the usurper lord of Cyprus, Isaac Comnenus, in his revolt against the Emperor Isaac Angelus. Peace was hastily made with the Emperor; and the Sicilian admiral, Margaritus of Brindisi, was summoned home to refit his ships and sail with three hundred knights to Tripoli. Meanwhile Archbishop Josias, escorted by a Sicilian embassy, made his way to Rome.
1187: The Archbishop of Tyre’s Mission
There, too, the gravity of his news was understood; for the Genoese had already sent a report to the Papal Court. The old Pope, Urban III, was a sick man, and the shock was too much for him. He died of grief on 20 October. But his successor, Gregory VIII, at once sent out a circular letter to all the faithful of the West. He told the serious story of the loss of the Holy Land and of the Holy Cross. He reminded his readers that the loss of Edessa forty years before should have been a warning. Great exertions were needed now. Let everyone repent from his sins and lay up treasure in heaven by taking the Cross. He promised a plenary indulgence to all Crusaders. They should enjoy eternal life in heaven, and in the meantime their goods on earth would be under the protection of the Holy See. He finished his letter by ordaining a fast on every Friday for five years to come and abstinence from meat on Wednesdays and Saturdays. His own kinsfolk and those of his Cardinals would fast on Mondays also. Other messages sent from Rome enjoined a truce for seven years on all the princes of Christendom; and it was reported that the Cardinals had all sworn to be among the first to take the Cross. As mendicant preachers they would lead the Christian armies to Palestine.
Pope Gregory did not see the result of his efforts. He died at Pisa on 17 December, after a pontificate of two months, leaving the work to the Bishop of Praeneste, who was elected two days later as Clement III. While Clement hastened to make contact with the greatest potentate of the West, the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, the Archbishop of Tyre moved on over the Alps to see the Kings of France and England.
The news of his mission had gone before him. The aged Patriarch of Antioch, Aimery, wrote a letter in September to King Henry II to tell him of the tribulations of the East, and sent it by the hand of the Bishop of Banyas; and, before Josias of Tyre arrived in France, Henry’s eldest surviving son, Richard, Count of Poitou, had taken the Cross. Henry himself had for many years been carrying on a desultory war with Philip Augustus of France. In January 1188, Josias found the two kings at Gisors, on the frontier between Normandy and the French domain, where they had met to discuss a truce. His eloquence persuaded them to make peace and promise to go as soon as possible on the Crusade. Philip, Count of Flanders, ashamed, perhaps, of his abortive Crusade ten years before, hastened to follow their example; and many of the high nobility of both kingdoms swore to accompany the Kings. It was decided that the armies should march together, the French troops wearing red crosses, the English white and the Flemish green. To pay for the expedition both Kings raised special taxes. At the end of January King Henry’s Council assembled at Le Mans to order the payment of the Saladin Tithe, a ten per cent tax on revenue and movables to be collected from every lay subject of the King, in England and in France. Henry then crossed to England to make further arrangements for the Crusade, which was preached with fervour by Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury. The Archbishop of Tyre started back on his homeward journey full of hope.
1189: King Richard’s Accession
Soon after the conference at Gisors Henry wrote an answer to the Patriarch of Antioch to say that help was coming quickly. His optimism was not justified. The Saladin Tithe was collected satisfactorily in spite of the attempt of a Templar knight, Gilbert of Hoxton, to help himself to the money that he had collected; while William the Lion, King of the Scots, who was Henry’s vassal, was quite unable to persuade his thrifty barons to contribute a single penny. Plans were made for the government of the country while Henry and his heir should be in the East. But, long before the army could be assembled, war broke out again in France. Some of Richard’s vassals rebelled against him in Poitou, and in June 1188, he was involved in a quarrel with the Count of Toulouse. The French King, angry at this attack on his vassal, answered by invading Berry. Henry in his turn invaded Philip’s territory; and war dragged on through the summer and autumn. In January 1189, Richard, whose filial loyalty was inconstant, joined with Philip in an offensive against Henry. The endless fighting horrified most good Christians. Among Philip’s vassals, the Counts of Flanders and Blois refused to bear arms till the Crusade should be launched. In the autumn of 1188 the Pope had sent the Bishop of Albano and, after the bishop’s death next spring, Cardinal John of Anagni to order the Kings to make peace, in vain. Nor was Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, more successful. Throughout the early summer Philip and Richard penetrated successfully into Henry’s French possessions. On 3 July Philip took the great fortress of Tours; and next day Henry, who was now desperately ill, agreed to humiliating peace terms. Two days later, before they could be ratified, on 6 July he died at Chinon.
The old King’s disappearance eased the situation. It is doubtful whether he ever seriously saw himself leaving for the Crusade. But his heir, Richard, had every intention of fulfilling his vow; and, though he inevitably inherited his father’s quarrel with King Philip, he was ready to make any settlement that would leave him free to go East, particularly if Philip would join in the Crusade. Philip for his part had less awe of Richard than of Henry, and saw that it was bad policy to postpone the Crusade much longer. A treaty was hastily made; and Richard passed on into England to be crowned and to take over the government.
The coronation took place on 3 September at Westminster, and was followed by a lively persecution of the Jews in London and in York. The citizens were jealous of the favour shown them by the late King; and Crusading fervour always provided an excuse for killing God’s enemies. Richard punished the rioters and permitted a Jew, who had turned Christian to avoid death, to return to his faith. The chroniclers were shocked to learn of Archbishop Baldwin’s comment that if he would not be God’s man he had better be the devil’s. The King stayed on in England over the autumn, reorganizing his administration. Empty episcopal sees were filled. After some preliminary rearrangement, William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, was made chancellor and justiciar for the south of England, while Hugh, Bishop of Durham, was justiciar for the north but also constable of Windsor. The Queen-mother Eleanor was given vice-regal powers; but she did not intend to remain in England. The King’s brother John was enfeoffed with huge estates in the south-west and a prudent ban on his entry into England for three years was rashly withdrawn. Royal estates were sold to raise money. The proceeds, together with gifts and the Saladin Tithe, provided the King with a vast treasure; and William of Scotland sent ten thousand pounds in return for his release from allegiance to the English crown and the restoration of his towns of Berwick and Roxburgh, which he had lost in Henry’s reign.
1189: The English Fleet sets sail
In November Rothrud, Count of Perche, arrived from France to say that King Philip had almost completed his preparations for the Crusade and wished to meet Richard at Vezelay on 1 April, when they would discuss their joint departure. A letter had reached the French court at the end of 1188 from its agents at Constantinople telling of a prophecy by the holy hermit Daniel that in the year when the Feast of the Annunciation fell on Easter Sunday the Franks would recover the Holy Land. This conjunction would happen in 1190. The report added that Saladin was troubled by quarrels among his family and his allies, even though the Emperor Isaac was impiously aiding him, and it mentioned a rumour that Saladin himself had been severely defeated near Antioch. News reaching France next year was not quite so optimistic, but it was learnt that, thanks to Sicilian help, the Franks there were taking the offensive. Moreover, the Western Emperor, Frederick Barbarossa, was already on his way to the East. It was time for the Kings of France and England to set out.
After taking the advice of his Council, King Richard agreed to the meeting at Vezelay. He was back in Normandy by Christmas and prepared himself to set out for Palestine in the late spring. At the last moment everything had to be postponed, owing to the sudden death of the Queen of France, Isabella of Hainault, early in March. It was not till 4 July that the Kings met again at Vezelay, with their knights and their infantry, ready to set out on their holy enterprise.
It was three years now since the kingdom of Jerusalem had met with disaster at Hattin; and it was well for the Franks in the East that other Crusaders had not been so dilatory. The promptness of King William of Sicily’s help saved Tyre and Tripoli for Christendom. William died on 18 November 1189; and his successor Tancred had troubles to face at home. But already in September an armada of Danish and Flemish ships, estimated by the hopeful chroniclers to number five hundred, arrived off the Syrian coast; and about the same time came James, lord of Avesnes, the bravest knight of Flanders. Even the English had not all waited for their King to move. A flotilla manned by Londoners left the Thames in August and reached Portugal next month. There, like their compatriots some forty years before, they agreed to take temporary service under the Portuguese King; and thanks to their help, King Sancho was able to capture from Islam the fortress of Silves, east of Cape Saint Vincent. On Michaelmas Day the Londoners sailed on through the Straits of Gibraltar. But the most portentous force that had already started out for the Holy Land was the army of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa.
Frederick had been deeply moved to hear of the disasters in Palestine. Ever since he had returned with his uncle Conrad from the ill-starred Second Crusade, he had longed to do battle again with the infidel. He was an old man now, nearly in his seventieth year, and he had been ruler of Germany for thirty-five years. Age had not diminished his gallantry nor his charm, but many bitter experiences had taught him prudence. He had not had many personal connections with Palestine. Very few of the settlers there were of German origin; and his long controversy with the Papacy had made the Frankish government shy of asking for his help. But the house of Montferrat had always been amongst his supporters. News of Conrad’s gallant defence of Tyre may have stirred him. The recent marriage of his heir Henry with the Sicilian Princess Constance had brought him into close touch with the Normans of the South. The death of Pope Urban III in the autumn of 1187 enabled him to make his peace with Rome. Gregory VIII eagerly welcomed so valuable an ally for the rescue of Christendom, and Clement III was equally friendly.
1189: The Emperor Frederick leaves Germany
Frederick took the Cross at Mainz on 27 March 1188, from the hands of the Cardinal of Albano. It was the fourth Sunday in Lent, known from the introit as Laetare Hierusalem. But more than a year passed before he was ready to leave for the East. The regency over his domains was given to his son, the future Henry VI. His great rival in Germany, Henry the Lion of Saxony, was ordered either to cede his rights over part of his lands, or to accompany the Crusade at his own expense, or to go into exile for three years, and chose the last alternative, retiring to the court of his father-in-law, Henry II of England. Thanks to Papal sympathy the German Church was pacified after a long series of quarrels. The western frontier of Germany was strengthened by the creation of a new Margravate. While he collected together his army, Frederick wrote to the potentates through whose lands he would pass, the King of Hungary, the Emperor Isaac Angelus and the Seldjuk Sultan Kilij Arslan; and he sent an ambassador, Henry of Dietz, with a boastful letter to Saladin demanding the restoration of all Palestine to the Christians and challenging him to battle on the field of Zoan in November 1189. The King of Hungary and the Seldjuk Sultan replied with messages promising assistance. A Byzantine embassy arrived at Nuremberg in the course of 1188 to arrange details for the Crusaders’ passage through Isaac’s territory. But Saladin’s reply, though courteous, was haughty. He offered to release his Frankish prisoners and to restore the Latin abbeys in Palestine to their owners, but no more. Otherwise there must be war.
Early in May 1189, Frederick set out from Ratisbon. He was accompanied by his second son, Frederick of Swabia, and many of his greatest vassals; and his army, the largest single force ever yet to leave on a Crusade, was well armed and well disciplined. King Bela gave him a friendly welcome and every facility in his passage through Hungary. On 23 June he crossed the Danube at Belgrade and entered Byzantine territory. There misunderstandings began. The Emperor Isaac Angelus was not the man to deal with a situation that needed tact, patience and courage. He was a clever but weak-willed courtier who had reached the throne by accident and who was always conscious that he had many potential rivals in his dominions. He was suspicious of all his officials but did not dare to control them strictly. Neither the armed forces of his empire nor its finances had recovered from the strain imposed by the vainglorious reign of Manuel Comnenus. The attempt of the Emperor Andronicus to reform the administration had not survived his fall. It was now more corrupt than ever before. High and unfair taxation was causing trouble in the Balkans. Cyprus was in revolt under Isaac Comnenus. Cilicia was lost to the Armenians. The Turks were encroaching on the Imperial provinces in central and south-western Anatolia; and the Normans had launched a great attack on Epirus and Macedonia. The defeat of the Normans was the only military triumph of Isaac Angelus’s reign. For the rest he depended upon diplomacy. He made a close alliance with Saladin, to the horror of the Franks in the East. His motive was not to damage their interests but to curb the power of the Seldjuks; but his incidental achievement in having the Holy Places at Jerusalem returned to the care of the Orthodox was particularly shocking to the West. To improve his hold over the Balkans he made friends with King Bela of Hungary, whose young daughter Margaret he married in 1185. But the extraordinary taxation raised on the occasion of the marriage was the spark that set off the smouldering Serbs and Bulgarians into open rebellion. In spite of a few successes at first, his generals were unable to crush the rebels. When Frederick appeared at Belgrade there was an independent Serbian state already formed in the hills in the northwest of the peninsula; and though Byzantine forces still held the fortresses along the main road to Constantinople, Bulgarian marauders were masters of the country-side.
1189: Frederick in the Balkans
Hardly had the German army crossed the Danube before there was trouble. Brigands, Serbian and Bulgarian, attacked stragglers; and the country-folk were frightened and unfriendly. The Germans at once accused the Byzantines of instigating this hostility, refusing to realize that Isaac was powerless to stop it. Frederick wisely sought the friendship of the rebel chieftains. Stephen Nemanya, Prince of Serbia, came with his brother Sracimir to Nish to greet the German monarch as he passed through the town in July; and the Vlach brothers, Ivan Asen and Peter, leaders of the Bulgarian revolt, sent him messages promising him assistance. News of these negotiations caused not unnatural concern at the Court of Constantinople. Isaac was already suspicious of Frederick’s intentions. His former ambassadors to the German Court, John Ducas and Constantine Cantacuzenus, had been sent to greet Frederick on his entry into Byzantine territory, and, to the horror of their old friend, the historian Nicetas Choniates, they took advantage of their mission to incite Frederick against Isaac; who soon learnt of their intrigues. While Frederick’s mistrust of Byzantium, which dated from his experiences during the Second Crusade, was being fanned by the schemes of his Byzantine escort, Isaac’s good sense deserted him. Hitherto the discipline of the German army and the adequate arrangements of the Byzantine authorities for its victualling had prevented unpleasant incidents. But when Frederick occupied Philippopolis and from there sent envoys to Constantinople to arrange for the passage of his troops into Asia, Isaac threw them into prison, meaning to hold them as hostages for Frederick’s pacific behaviour. He entirely misjudged Frederick; who at once sent his son, Frederick of Swabia, to take the town of Didymotichum in Thrace as a counter-hostage, and wrote home to his son Henry to collect a fleet to use against Byzantium and to secure the Pope’s blessing for a Crusade against the Greeks. Unless the Straits were held by the Franks, he said, the Crusading movement would never succeed. Faced with the prospect of the German army, to be joined by a western fleet, attacking Constantinople, Isaac prevaricated for some months and at last climbed down and released the German ambassadors. Peace was patched up at Adrianople. Isaac gave Frederick hostages and promised to provide ships if he would cross the Dardanelles and not the Bosphorus, and to victual him on his passage through Anatolia. Frederick’s wish was to proceed to Palestine. He controlled his anger and accepted the terms.
The German army had marched very slowly through the Balkans; and Frederick was too cautious to attempt to cross Anatolia in winter time. He spent the winter months at Adrianople, while the citizens of Constantinople trembled lest he should refuse Isaac’s apologies and march on their city. Eventually, in March 1190, his whole expedition moved down to Gallipoli on the Dardanelles, and with the help of Byzantine transports, crossed into Asia, to the relief of Isaac and his subjects.
1190: Death of Frederick Barbarossa
On leaving the Asiatic shore of the Dardanelles, Frederick roughly kept the road taken by Alexander the Great fifteen centuries before, crossing over the Granicus and the flooded river Angelocomites, till he struck a paved Byzantine high-road between Miletopolis and the modern Balikesir. He followed this road through Calamus to Philadelphia, where the inhabitants were friendly at first but attempted to rob the rearguard of the army and were punished. He reached Laodicea on 27 April, thirty days after his passage across the Dardanelles. From there he struck inland along the road that Manuel had taken on his fatal march to Myriocephalum; and on 3 May, after a skirmish with the Turks, he passed the site of the battlefield, where the bones of the victims still could be seen. He was now in territory controlled by the Seldjuk Sultan. It was clear that Kilij Arslan, in spite of his promises, did not intend to let the Crusaders pass peaceably through his domains. But, awed by the size of their army, he attempted little more than to hang round its skirts, picking off stragglers and interfering with the search for food. It was effective tactics. Hunger and thirst as well as Turkish arrows began to cause casualties. Making his way round the end of the Sultan Dagh mountains on to the old road from Philomelium eastward, Frederick reached Konya on 17 May. The Sultan and his court had retired before him; and, after a sharp battle with the Sultan’s son, Qutb ad-Din, he was able next day to force an entry into the town. He did not remain long within the walls, but let his army rest for a while in the gardens of Meram, in its southern suburbs. Six days later he moved on to Karaman, where he arrived on the 30th; and thence he led the army over the passes of the Taurus without opposition, towards the south coast at Seleucia. The port was now held by the Armenians, whose Catholicus hastened to send a message to Saladin. The road lay through difficult country; food was short, and the summer heat intense.
On 10 June the great host descended into the plain of Seleucia, and prepared to cross the river Calycadnus to enter the city. The Emperor rode ahead with his bodyguard, and came down to the waterside. What happened then is uncertain. Either he leapt from his horse to refresh himself in the cool stream and the current was stronger than he thought, or his aged body could not stand the sudden shock; or else his horse slipped and threw him into the water, and the weight of his armour sank him. By the time that the army reached the river his corpse had been rescued and was lying on the bank.
The death of the great Emperor was a bitter blow not only to his own followers but to the whole Frankish world. The news of his coming at the head of a great army had enormously heartened the knights fighting on the Syrian coast. His force alone seemed sufficient to drive back the Moslems: and its combination with the armies of the Kings of France and England, who were known to be setting out soon for the East, would surely recover the Holy Land for Christendom. Saladin himself was afraid that the combination might be too much for him. When he heard that Frederick was on the road to Constantinople he sent his secretary and future biographer, Beha ed-Din, to Baghdad to warn the Caliph Nasr that the faithful must gather to meet the threat; and he summoned all his vassals to join him. He collected information about every stage of the German army’s march and wrongly believed that Kilij Arslan was secretly helping the invaders. When they suddenly learned of Frederick’s death it seemed to the Moslems that God had wrought a miracle for the Faith. The army that Saladin had gathered to hold the Germans in Northern Syria could safely be reduced and detachments sent to join his forces on the coast of Palestine.
The Germans at Antioch
The danger had been great for Islam; and Saladin was right to see his salvation in the Emperor’s death. Though a number of German soldiers had perished and some equipment been lost in the arduous march across Anatolia, the Emperor’s army was still formidable. But the Germans, with their strange longing to worship a leader, are usually demoralized when the leader disappears. Frederick’s troops lost their nerve. The Duke of Swabia took over the command; but, though he was gallant enough, he lacked his father’s personality. Some of the princes decided to return with their followers to Europe; others took ship from Seleucia or Tarsus for Tyre. The Duke, with the army much reduced, marched on through the damp summer heat of the Cilician plain, carrying with him the Emperor’s body preserved in vinegar. After some hesitation the Armenian Prince Leo paid a deferential visit to the German camp. But the German leaders could not make adequate arrangements for the feeding of their men. Bereft of the Emperor’s control, the troops lost their discipline. Many were hungry, many were sick, and all were unruly. The Duke himself fell seriously ill and had to linger in Cilicia. His army went on without him, to be attacked with heavy losses as it passed through the Syrian Gates. It was a sorry rabble that arrived on 21 June at Antioch. Frederick followed a few days later, on his recovery.
Prince Bohemond of Antioch gave the Germans a hospitable welcome. It was their undoing. Leaderless, they had lost their enthusiasm, and after the hardships of their journey they were unwilling to abandon the luxuries of Antioch. Nor did the excesses in which they indulged improve their health. Frederick of Swabia, pleased with the homage paid him by Bohemond and encouraged by a visit that his cousin, Conrad of Montferrat, made him from Tyre, was eager to continue the journey. But when he left Antioch at the end of August it was with an army that was still further reduced. Nor was his effort appreciated by many of the Franks whom he had come to help. All Conrad’s opponents, knowing Frederick to be his cousin and friend, whispered that Saladin had paid Conrad sixty thousand besants to take him away from Antioch where he would have been more useful to the Christian cause. With apposite symbolism the old Emperor’s body had disintegrated. The vinegar had been ineffective, and the decaying remains were hastily buried in the Cathedral of Antioch. But some bones were removed from the corpse and travelled on with the army, in the vain hope that at least a portion of Frederick Barbarossa should await the Judgement Day at Jerusalem.
The grim fiasco of the Emperor’s Crusade made it more than ever urgent that the Kings of France and England should arrive in the East, to share in the bitter and fateful contest that was being waged on the coast of northern Palestine.