81: The King's Crusade

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           For almost a century, the Crusader States served as an outpost for Western European, Latin Christians within Western Asia. The Fall of Edessa in 1144 threatened, but did not end, Western control of the Holy Land. As long as the neighboring Islamic leaders were divided and Byzantium remained strong, the French-speaking lords of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, the Principality of Antioch and the County of Tripoli held on to the land where Christ had lived.

            In the 1170s, Salah ad-Din Yusuf ibn Ayyub, known to history as Saladin, stepped onto the geopolitical stage. The great Kurdish general first seized control of Egypt before conquering Syria. This new empire threatened the French Christians who ruled the Levant. Despite signing a truce with Saladin, the warmongering Prince of Antioch, Raynald de Châtillon, raided a caravan of Muslim pilgrims performing the hajj. Outraged at the violation, Saladin launched his own raids against the Christians, even defeating a small army of Knights Templar.

            In early July 1187 Saladin led a massive army, numbering between 20,000-40,000 to besiege Tiberias. As he did, the King of Jerusalem, Guy de Lusignan, drained the garrisons of the Crusader States to create a host capable of meeting the Muslim force. With a herald holding the True Cross high, the Christian forces marched to meet their foes, confident that God was on their side.

As the Christians approached, Saladin pulled his forces from the city. The Christians pursued and fell into his trap. Saladin managed a brilliant encirclement of the smaller crusader army. Confined to their camp, unable to fetch water, the Christians began to die of thirst as the Muslim army waited them out. All attempts to break the encirclement failed, leading to the last surviving French to surrender. Saladin spared Guy, telling him that “kings do not kill kings.” The Prince of Antioch was not so fortunate; for his crimes against innocents, Saladin had him executed.

            The Battle of Hattin 1187 was an unmitigated disaster for the French Christians ruling over the Levant. Saladin’s forces marched from one city to the next, with most surrendering without a fight. After a brief siege on 2 October 1187 Jerusalem fell. After 86 years of French Christian rule, the Holiest of Holies was again under Islamic control. Joscius, Archbishop of Tyre, fled the Levant and sailed to Rome where he delivered the news to Pope Gregory VIII that the Crusader States were all on the verge of collapse. Already suffering from a fever, Gregory VIII died of shock.

            Only two days after Gregory VIII’s death, the College of Cardinals chose Clement III to replace him. Shortly after ascending, Clement III urged Joscius to take his message west to France and raise troops for a Third Crusade. The Archbishop of Tyre’s plea for aid initially went unheeded. King Philippe II was then busy fighting against Richard the Lionheart, though the two put aside their differences when they warred against Henri II, King of England. Henri II’s death in 1189 ended the conflict, as Richard took control of the Angevin Empire. Without any remaining excuses, the Kings of France and England agreed to take up the cross, though it would take them another year before they actually departed.

            Unwilling to wait for the slow-moving French, and eager to win one last, glorious campaign, Emperor Frederick Barbarossa led a German force east in 1189. The Germans entered Anatolia in early Spring of 1190, won three battles against Turks and headed south towards the Holy Land. When Saladin learned of the approaching army he broke off some of his forces that were relieving Acre to counter the German threat, giving Guy the breathing room he needed to continue the fight for his lost kingdom.

            Then, a sudden disaster struck. On 10 June 1190, Frederick Barbarossa drowned while crossing the Saleph River in southern Anatolia. With their leader dead, thousands of Germans abandoned the Crusade. Still others fell ill. Of the initial 15,000 or more that set out from the Holy Roman Empire only 5,000 reached Acre. For the second crusade in a row the Germans had entered early then had their forces collapse.

            On 4 July 1190, Kings Philippe II and Richard I, alongside Count Philippe I of Flanders met at Vézelay. There the kings took up the pilgrim’s scrip and promised to retake the Holy Sepulcher for Christ. Philippe II put the kingdom under the control of his mother Adèle and uncle Guillaume Archbishop of Reims, called ‘Whitehands.’ Each soldier stitched a symbolic cross onto their clothing: white for France, red for England and green for Flanders. The armed pilgrims then marched southward, alongside porters to carry their goods and laundresses of good reputation, who might resist the men’s charms.

            As the armies headed south, they crossed the Rhône River. While most made it over without difficulty, a bridge collapsed under the weight of so many men in full armor, and 100 soldiers drowned. It was an ominous start to the holy war. From there, the armies split: Philippe II would march south to Genoa before departing for Sicily, while Richard I set off from Marseille. Philippe II arrived at the eastern port of Messina on 16 September, Richard I six days later. Some thousands of Philippe II’s men sailed ahead of the main host to assist the siege of Acre, providing much-needed aid, though the main Crusader armies chose to winter in the island kingdom.

            The two kings arrived in Sicily during a chaotic political period. In November of the previous year, King Guillaume II died. While Constance was the rightful inheritor of the throne, the king’s cousin Tancred staged a successful coup. When Guillaume II’s widow Jeanne of England protested, Tancred held her as a royal hostage. Unfortunately for Tancred, Jeanne was Richard I’s sister. Shortly after arriving, Richard I demanded his sister’s release and her inheritance. Tancred acquiesced to the former, but not the latter.

            Philippe II maintained good terms with the Italo-Normans, hoping to pass by peacefully to the Holy Land. In contrast, the Lionheart was never one to make peace, and he and his men harassed the people of Messina. When the city rose up and demanded the foreigners leave, Richard I sacked the city, then constructed a fort overlooking its ruins. Philippe II then negotiated a treaty between Richard I and Tancred: the King of Sicily would give Richard I his sister’s inheritance of 20,000 gold ounces. Furthermore, Tancred’s daughter would marry Richard I’s heir and nephew, Arthur of Brittany. 

            If sacking a city wasn’t enough, Richard I still managed to cause Philippe II a number of headaches. At one point, the bored French and English soldiers hosted a friendly jousting tournament. Ever eager to prove himself, Richard I challenged the French champion Guillaume des Barres, one of Philippe II’s vassals. Guillaume defeated Richard I multiple times, which sent the Lionheart into a rage. The King of England swore eternal enmity against Guillaume and demanded he abandon the crusade. Even though Philippe II attempted to intervene, Guillaume bowed to pressure and sailed home, though he later traveled to the Holy Land to join the crusade and even earned Richard I’s pardon.

            Richard I then broke the news to Philippe II that he was breaking off his marriage alliance to Alix in favor of Berengaria of Navarre. Philippe II could only grit his teeth; his main rival had abandoned attempts at peace with the Kingdom of France, instead securing a political compact with a minor, yet important kingdom to the south that might aid him in an upcoming war. When Spring arrived, Philippe II was more than ready to leave the island and Richard I behind and sailed for Acre.

            While Philippe II joined the siege of Acre on 20 April, 1191, Richard I took his sweet time. Notably, Richard I landed his forces on Cyprus were he overthrew a pretender to the Byzantine throne. When the illegitimate claimant to the purple begged Richard I not to shackle him in irons, the King of England used silver manacles. While there, Richard I married Berengaria. After a brief honeymoon, the English forces landed at Acre on 8 June.

            Acre was an impressive fortress. Built on a peninsula in the Gulf of Haifa, it had two sets of thick walls while its harbor had a long iron chain to prevent enemy ships from entering. The fortifications likely would have been more than enough to hold off a siege from early medieval Franks, or even Carolingian Franks. However, siege warfare developed enormously over the preceding centuries. From outside the walls, the crusaders constructed trebuchets. Each of these had their own personal name, given by their proud engineers and operators. One was called, “The Evil Neighbor,” another, “The Cat,” but the most impressive was “God’s Own Sling.”

            Philippe II had been holding off on a direct attack until Richard I arrived so that they could share both the burden and glory of the fight. Yet, when the English arrived, the Lionheart surprisingly delayed the attack. Rumors spread that Richard I was trying to bribe Saladin’s brother Safadin for terms that might favor him. In the meantime, the King of England bribed the French soldiers to switch allegiances by offering them four gold coins a month instead of Philippe II’s three. Finally, Richard I fell ill, preventing the English from striking the city.

            The exasperated King of France was done waiting and launched an assault on Acre. The catapults and trebuchets hammered the walls while sappers undermined their foundations. Philippe II soon fell ill as well, likely with scurvy. Over the course of the crusade his hair fell out, as did his teeth. Far from the young, handsome man that he had been, he became a haggard, bald and toothless wretch. Yet, the weary King of France would not let his men fight without him, and had his soldiers bear him on a litter towards the walls so he could fire his crossbow at the enemy.

            As the Crusaders attacked Acre, Saladin’s army launched raids against their camps. Despite being caught between the fortress and an enemy army, the Christians were in a strong position as they outnumbered their opponents within and without the city.

            By the 3 of July, Acre looked ripe to fall. Numerous breaches had opened as sections of the walls crumbled. The French marshal Aubrey Clément declared, “This day I shall perish, or, if it please God, I shall enter the city of Acre.” The bold war leader climbed a ladder in front of his men and fought the defenders along the ramparts. As he did, the ladder behind him collapsed. Clément fought bravely and died quickly.

            Acre’s defenders recognized that their defeat was inevitable. Though they exacted a bitter toll on the Westerners, multitudes of French, English, Germans, Flemish and other Europeans were ready to take the place of their fallen comrades. The city leader offered to surrender on 4 July, though both Richard I and Saladin refused to accept the terms for very different reasons. Sensing weakness, the Crusaders redoubled their efforts. Saladin harassed the Christian camp but could not break his opponents. On 12 July the city offered to surrender again, despite Saladin’s orders. This time the Westerners accepted their offer. In exchange for leniency, the defenders handed over the True Cross, returned hostages and paid 200,000 dinars.

            The Crusaders entered the city in triumph and the great lords occupied the mansions and palaces left standing. From the walls, four standards flew: those of the King of France, the King of England, the King of Jerusalem and the Duke of Austria. If it wasn’t apparent by now, Richard I was never content, even in victory. Richard I was angry to see a duke’s banner flying alongside those of kings. He was particularly upset that Duke Leopold of Austria had taken up better lodgings than him in the city. In a rage, Richard I had the Austrian duke’s banner torn down, cast into the mud and trampled upon. For no reason other than sheer pettiness, Richard I made a powerful enemy, one who would have his vengeance before long.

            By this point, Philippe II was sick of the holy war. He suffered terrible illness that cost him his hair and teeth. He was perpetually at odds with his main rival who caused trouble everywhere he went. His mind constantly returned to thoughts of home, particularly following the death of Count Philippe I of Flanders during the siege. Philippe II wanted to return to France and press his claims to the borderlands before a new count could fortify them. At the same time, Philippe II’s son was ill and the king worried about the security of the kingdom. Finally, there were rumors that the King of England was planning to have Philippe II killed off with aid from the Ḥaššāšīn, the original Order of Assassins. The King of France took the threats seriously and for a time was guarded day and night. As far-fetched as it might have seemed, Philippe II was right to exercise caution; the following year, two assassins killed Conrad de Montferrat. Under torture, the surviving assassin claimed that he was hired on behalf of Richard I, who had publicly opposed the noble’s ascension to the role of King of Jerusalem.

            Philippe II prepared to leave, though he could not do so without his most hated enemy reproaching him one last time. Richard I demanded that the King of France pledge to remain in the Holy Land for three more years. Philippe II refused, though he promised not to abuse Richard I’s territory while the King of England fought the heathen enemy. With that, Philippe II left the majority of his army in the hands of Hugues, Duke of Burgundy. On 31 July, 1191 he abandoned the Third Crusade.

Philippe II and his reduced entourage took a ship and sailed north along the coast when a storm hit. According to the chronicles, the sailors feared they would die, at which point Philippe II asked what time it was. When they responded, “midnight,” he replied, “Fear not then, for the monks in our own land are awake and praying to God for us.” Sure enough, the ship weathered the storm.

Sailing from port to port, Philippe II arrived in Rome, where he was welcomed by Pope Celestine III. There the king regaled His Holiness with tales of Richard I’s wickedness. Understandingly, the Pope absolved Philippe II of his oath to take Jerusalem. From there, Philippe II travelled through the German lands to Paris, arriving on 27 December 1191.

The King of France had been gone for a year and a half. He had failed to take Jerusalem, or even most of the lands within the kingdom. Granted, his successors fared little better. Richard I’s massacre of 2,700 Muslim captives hardened Saladin’s stance against the Westerners. After a year of inconclusive fighting, Richard I also abandoned the holy war when news arrived that his brother Jean was attempting to seize his lands.

Richard I’s journey home was much more eventful than his rival’s, stemming almost entirely from his penchant for making enemies wherever he went. When his ship was wrecked at Aquileia, he took the land route through the Holy Roman Empire. When he passed through the Duchy of Austria, its Duke, Leopold, seized him as revenge for his slighted honor and because he accused Richard I of ordering the assassination of his cousin, Conrad de Montferrat. From there, Richard I was given over to the Holy Roman Emperor, who held him over a year while he ransomed a fortune from his mother.

            While the Third Crusade itself was mostly a failure, the war proved a huge boon to Philippe II. The King of France returned in glory as a hero who had fought against Christ’s enemies. Moreover, he brought back with him a number of relics, such as the stone used to kill Saint Stephen, the hair of Saint Peter, two teeth of the Prophet Amos, one of John the Baptist’s fingers, the incense that the three wise men presented Jesus with at his birth, and even the manger that Jesus was born in! All these he presented at Saint-Denis and added to his stature as a pious leader. Finally, the death of the Count of Flanders and imprisonment of the King of England granted him a measure of security. Philippe II allied with Jean and took the Norman Vexin in exchange for supporting him as King of England. However, this victory proved short-lived; In early 1194 the Lionheart returned and launched a war of reconquest and retribution.

Sources:

Jim Bradbury, The Capetians: Kings of France 987-1328, 2007.

Jim Bradbury, Philip Augustus: King of France 1180-1223, 1998.

John W. Baldwin, The Government of Philip Augustus: Foundations of French Royal Power in the Middle Ages, 1986.