A naval battle between the Egyptian shalandī
off the coast of Sidon, famed for its immense sea-walls, and the Rhōmaîoi dromons,
involving "Greek Fire"
It is hard to overstate how the assistance of Constantinople helped ensure the survival of the Crusader State in its darkest hour. Unlike in later periods, when the Rhōmaîoi, having recuperated a substantial portion of their military projection in Asia, would be able to launch deep-pronged offensives to relieve the beleaguered Latin allies, in 1109, they had hardly any land forces to spare to give a direct tactical assistance in battle against the Turks in Palestine itself. Nevertheless, even if some of the contemporary – mostly pro-Norman – sources conveniently omit these details, modern historiography has come to recognize the great importance of Alexios’ contributions to the Crusader war effort during these years.
Not only the already conceived, but yet not put in motion campaign from Antioch against Muslim Aleppo would greatly relieve the Jerusalemites, by creating another theater of war to occupy the Saracens’ attention, we must also take in consideration that, due to the rampant pillaging and mayhem of the Turks, the supply lines of the Crusades had been cut off, and many of their resources, not only consumable goods, but also horses and some pack animals, as well as weapons and basic utensils to furnish their encampments, had to be brought by sea, with the unscathed ports of Haifa and Acre receiving such needed commodities by sea directly from Syria and Cyprus. Obviously, for a while, it became difficult for such resources to reach the battle theaters, but, after the Turks stationed their divided armies near Tyre and Jerusalem to besiege them, minor caravans heavily protected by militia spearmen and armored archers would travel overnight to deliver such supplies to the nearby fortresses, hoping that the scattered forces of the kingdom could be resupplied; perhaps they started believing that the Basileus Alexios would come all the way from Constantinople with his grand army to rescue them. In this regard, they were mistaken. The greatest battle of this war would actually happen in the very sea to which they looked daily in hope of a miracle.
In the previous months, the Fatimid fleets that had been ranging along the eastern Mediterranean littoral had systematically expelled the Italian merchant navies from Venice, Pisa, Amalfi and Genoa, but refused to face the Rhōmaîoi galleys coming from Rhodes and Cyprus to supply the Crusaders. As another demonstration that the Komnenoi had long since abandoned their former alliance with the Fatimids, and decided to give a serious and reliable support to their newfound Latin associates, Alexios detached almost of the whole Rhōmaîoi fleet to face the Egyptian armada. The
dromons were, in most cases, brand new, because the fleet had as whole had been mostly neglected and fallen in disrepair during the long decline that followed the end of the Macedonian dynasty. When Alexios Komnenos ascended to the purple, he found almost no useful warships to face the threats of the Normans and even of the Turks, such as Tzachas Bey of Smyrna – who had grown so emboldened by the vulnerability of the Aegean Sea that he built a few ships and raided in the coast of Greece and Thrace – and was forced to depend either on mercenary service, with the Venetians being the most interested or on conscription of merchant vessels to serve as
ad hoc auxiliary support.
By the late years of his reign, Alexios had invested substantial resources in the construction of a sizeable warfleet, after systematically reforming the naval shipbuilding, creating new “sea districts” parallel to the mostly defunct Theme system, and establishing individual quotas for ship construction, as well as a number of volunteer oarsmen from each of them.
In late 1109, the Rhōmaîoi had been receiving many vessels and minor flotillas of the Italians that had escaped the Fatimid onslaught, offering them safe haven in Crete. First came the Amalfitans, then the Pisans, and, in the same month, a handful of Venetian and but two Genoese galleys, most of them merchant ships. Only the Venetians so far had brought warships, and even they were not a match to the Egyptian armada.
Alexios then made a very risky bet. In hindsight, we know that he made the right call, but, considering what we know of his personality and political attitudes, it might come as a surprise that he decided to make such a dubious gamble, given the circumstances. The Rhōmaîoi fleet was not much larger than those of the Egyptians, and losing it would meant the complete annihilation of Constantinople’s hard won sea preeminence, not only would leave the coastal regions of the Empire vulnerable to offensives, but would jeopardize all of its interests and designs in Asia, because, now that were just retaking fortified settlements in central Anatolia, their whole logistical and communications network linking their European regions and the Syrian ones would likely be threatened.
Yet, it came to pass that in October 1109, when the sieges of Jerusalem and Tyre were still under way, the Rhōmaîon
dromōns, assisted by some dozen Venetian and Genoese war galleys, flanked a substantial portion of the Egyptian fleet as it was departing from the port of Sidon, one of the few Lebanese metropolises that had remained loyal to Cairo, and annihilated them. The incumbent Egyptian commander, likely not expecting a maritime engagement, but a simple ressuply operation, was taken by surprise and could scantly adopt a suitable defensive formation, even more because the Greeks and the Italians attacked in the dark of the night.
Then, they sailed in a close-knit wedge formation, attracting the larger fraction of the armada off their favored port of Damietta in the next few days, and inflicted a decisive defeat. The Rhōmaîoi ships, in the previous centuries, were still based in the ancient blueprint of the Roman
liburnia, but, during the Komnenoi period, were usually built in a similar fashion to the Italian galleys, which allowed for greater maneuverability. Now, the Rhōmaîoi employed a “secret weapon of sorts”, the so-called
Greek Fire.
Even if in later periods the Greek Fire would become ubiquitous in the Mediterranean world, in spite of all the almost-religious secrecy needed to guard its recipe, guarded by many keys by the concerned Emperors, at the time, only the Rhōmaîoi themselves and the Arabs (but not the Turks) knew how to craft and employ it in battle. In fact, in Rhōmanía the weapon had largely become disused, due to the relative lack of hostile maritime powers after the 10th Century, and only a few Arabic polities, such as the Fatimids, used it, albeit in smaller scale, usually in sieges. In the siege of Jerusalem, Iftikhar al-Dawla had employed such fire grenades to incinerate one of the Crusader siege towers and battering rams, to no avail, as they protected them with oxen hides heavy with vinegar.
Now, the weapon’s creators, the Rhōmaîoi, had an edge even the resourceful Fatimids lacked: a means to channel a jet of fire across a significant distance with impressive accuracy, while the Saracens, and, sometime later, the Latins, would limit themselves to hurling incendiary grenades with catapults. In that specific month of 1109, these contraptions, usually siphons fashioned in gold with the head of dragons and lions, were employed to great effect against the Fatimids. The engagement lasted through a complete day into night, and it must have been such a disturbing sight, to anyone who might have witnessed the battle from the northern coast of Egypt, in the Nile Delta, the distant and abstract burning of pyres in the line of the horizon, dancing rhythmically upon the waves. The chemical compound created flames that not even the contact with sea water was enough to quench, and the flames would continue to devour the shattered remains of the destroyed Egyptian vessels, with so many charred corpses being condemned to rest for eternity in Poseidon's domain.
The unexpected but decisive naval triumph of the Rhōmaîoi in that year would assert their hegemony over the eastern Mediterranean, which would not be jeopardized for centuries. The Fatimid dynasty, whose decline under weak Caliphs would only get steeper in the next few decades, would never recover.
Their loss of naval projection would in turn produce long-term beneficial consequences to the Crusader State – one that they could not even conceive at the time – it would create a free navigation space between Europe and Asia that would foster the trade between Italy, Rhōmanía and the Levant, allowing for the safe transit of commodities and people by the formidable fleets of Venice, Genoa, and other city-republics. Considering that, until the development of the farming regions of Lebanon and Syria, the Latin-Levantine economy would be almost entirely dependent on commerce, this development would greatly increase the realm’s prosperity, even as much as they were to become integrated in the Constantinopolitan node of trade.
The triumphant Rhōmaîoi
Megas Doux John Doukas [
Ioannes Doukas], would return, some months later, to the docks in the Golden Horn of Constantinople with a dozen captured Fatimid warships, having left hundreds of their crewmen imprisoned in Cyprus. Immediately after the battle, however, the admiral voyaged to Tyre and disembarked a division of Cypriot marines to reinforce the Normans and Aquitanians. A few days later, he would return to Tyre, with more 500 soldiers from the ports of the
Cibyrrhaeot Theme to assist them. Even Bohemond, for all his animosity towards Alexios, could not avoid a genuine sentiment of joy when he saw these cuirassed and dark-haired battle-hardened veterans that would soon become his comrades in the line of battle against the infidels.