51. Homs is Taken by the Crusaders (1139/1140)
  • Disclaimer: I'm not ignoring the previous posts. I intend to answer one by one. I'm just taking advantage of some free time before I leave for my GF's house, where I'll be without computer. So, enjoy, and do keep the discussions, I'm liking to read it!


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    091f88ff079308f12f3a4b53e2eb7fe8.jpg


    Non-contemporary painting depicting the downfall of Homs, one of the last Islamic bastions in the Levant, incorporated to the Outremer in 1139


    The Crusader army that came from France was among the largest hosts assembled thus far in commitment to a holy war ever since the days of Charlemagne, numbering between twenty to twenty five thousand souls. Even if it included non-combatants among the hundreds of auxiliary personnel, its character was much more militarized than that of the previous Crusades, with a sizable amount of professional soldiers and knights levied from various regions of the west, mostly from the Kingdom of France proper, but also from Brittany, Aquitaine and Gascony, Burgundy, Normandy, and from as far as the Rhineland. Likely because of this, the expedition took various months to be properly organized, to the point that the Pope personally wrote to the court in Paris admonishing the monarch to hasten the preparations and march at once, seeing that the Sicilians had long since returned from the Orient, and those from the Low Countries and England were already on their way there.

    This massive army, however, hampered by its sheer size, only arrived in Constantinople in November 1139, and would take a few more months to arrive in Palestine; by then, Mosul and Shah-Armen’s forces had already departed, and the parts of Edessa that had not been reduced to a smoldering ruin were incorporated into Rhōmania. We know that, until then, the Basileus was preparing only a punitive expedition to keep the Turcomans of Armenia at bay, seeing that his hold over the eastern parts of Anatolia was still sub-par. The central region of the peninsula, and those provinces that formed the ancient Kingdom of Armenia, were still underpopulated and demanded a large military presence to secure the travelling and trading routes to the Outremer.

    However, the arrival of such a massive Frankish army presented a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to John II Komnenos; even more than simply check Seljuq expansionism, he might be able to unleash a dedicated campaign of conquest to restore the whole imperial dominion over Armenia - this, in turn, would allow the demographic and economic recovery of the Anatolian peninsula. Besides, the Komnenoi wanted to stay close to the Crusaders so as to keep them at bay.

    Now, the Emperor eagerly vested himself in his traditional role as the ultimate marshal of the Crusade - as his father Alexios had done -, charged with overseeing the restoration of the Earthly Kingdom of God.

    When the King of France crossed the straits into Asia, he was sided by a vast Rhōmaîon military force, and the keen organizational and logistical acumen of the Rhōmaîoi was the sole guarantee that such a gargantuan contingent could traverse an extensive country of rugged plains and mountains into the frontier of Syria. For the first time in various months, the Frenchmen, hitherto weakened by constant hunger and disease due to the mismanagement of resources, welcomed a season of plentiness and nonchalance.

    Aware that they could not go as far as Palestine in a single corps, the principal divisions of the Rhōmaîoi and Crusaders were ordered to quarter in Antioch and Laodicea, respectively, while the entourages of the Emperor and of the French King voyaged to Jerusalem in compact companies, to undertake the traditional pilgrimage sightseeing.


    *****​


    Now, it took a few months for the campaigns to be resumed, already in the sowing season of 1140. The combined host of the Crusade would be divided in three parts: (1) the army of Rhōmania, led by John Axouch and Sebastokrátor Andronikos Komnenos, the second of the Basileus’ sons, regarded as a reborn Diomedes; (2) the royal army of Francia, itself divided in various sub-armies, led each one by their own grand duke; (3) the Outremerine army, led by Roger of Syria and Archbishop Gregory. This time, the Outremerine army afield would be much smaller than usual, as most of the nobles would march to the Crusade with only their retinues and sergeantry, leaving the levies in reserve to protect Palestine and Syria against offensives to the border provinces, mostly notably in case the Egyptians attempted to invade from the Sinai... or, God forbid it, the cursed Turks coming from the Syrian desert a third time.

    There was some debate about the course of action to be taken. Some nobles argued that they ought to take the opportunity to invade Egypt, once and for all, striking them in their moment of weakness, to topple the Fatimid Caliphate. This time, as it might be expected, they remained a minority, because most of the officers advocated a campaign in Armenia and Mesopotamia, to avenge the grim fate of Edessa - evidently enough, in this they had the enthusiastic support of the Basileus. Indeed, after some deliberation, the Crusaders, appalled by the tales about the grisly and barbarous fate suffered by Edessa, resolved that it was urgent that they restore the northern frontier holdouts in the Euphrates valley.

    However, to the surprise of the Komnenoi, and of the Outremerines, the French grand dukes determined that they should, first of all, annex Homs and Hama to the Crusader State. Confused by the argument, Prince Roger tried to argue, feebly, that the Emir of Homs was an ally and tributary, and had never conspired against the Christian principality, but, to his irritation, he was scolded and reproached by the King of France himself. *Phillip II affirmed that they, as warriors of the faith, could not permit the Saracens to hold any land inside the Kingdom of God, lest it might facilitate an insidious conspiracy against them! Archbishop Gregory, seeing no use in arguing against the resolution imposed by the French suzerain and his lords, even if he believed that an action against Homs at the moment would be an unnecessary delay, nonetheless sanctioned the campaign.

    Of course, the Outremerine patricians knew that this was all but a convenient pretext used by King *Phillip II and his partisans to conquer new lands and spoils for his own followers, considering that more than one of his vassals had voiced concerns about the fact that campaigning in the spoliated fief of Edessa would not yield enough riches to compensate for the costs of the expedition. And, indeed, as it commonly happens in these situations, tales about fabulous treasures and exotic stereotypes abounded and stirred the caprices of these European aristocrats.

    Thus, one can only imagine the abysmal reaction of the ruling Emir of Homs when he received an ultimatum from his hitherto allies and protectors: abandon his lands and titles and treasures or perish.


    *****​


    As-Salih al-Himsi, Emir of Homs was no fool to believe that he would be ever safe bordered by the Franji; they had submitted every city of Syria, why would they stop now? As it commonly happens in states surrounded by hostile expansionist nations, he had long ago weaved a network of spies, spread about in Syria and Palestine, so as to monitor every step of the Latins, and this various intelligence reports were frequently given to Baghdad; indeed, the Abbasid Caliph saw in Homs, if not a dedicated ally, at least an useful asset against the Franks.

    At the moment, his most serviceable allies were actually the Bedouins from Diyar Mudar, with whose dreaded scimitars the unfortunate population of Damascus had all been too acquainted. By the time the Crusaders besieged Homs, these bands had been joined by Rukn al-Dawla Dāwud [Turkish: Rükneddin Davud], dynast of the Artuqid branch that ruled Hasankeyf [Ḥiṣn Kayfā], and had recently been defeated and expelled by the Shah-Armens. Together, and stimulated by religious devotion and by the dinars of Homs, the Artuqids and the Arabs marched to relieve the besieged city. As a reward, al-Himsi promised them the treasure of Hama.

    The Saracens did not seek pitched battle, but their attacks and incursions against the foragers and scouts became repetitive, and their very presence inspired Homs to resist the siege, after al-Himsi refused the ultimatum and cursed the Franks.

    The Christians, realizing that the relief forces intended to establish themselves in Hama, acted quickly and detached a third of their army to encircle that city as well. With perspicacious coordination of the Rhōmaîoi, they maintained two simultaneous siege operations. Soon enough, the fortune of these metropolises was drained in the useless war effort, and the Artuqids abdicated from the campaign, and instead went on to occupy the formidable fortress of Shmemis [Arabic: Qal’at ash-Shmamis], near the village of Salamīya. This was an ancient stronghold, erected atop a petrified volcano by the priest-king Sampsiceramus; destroyed by the Sassanians centuries ago, it was rebuilt by the Umayyads and stood there ever since. The Syrian locals were submitted to a de facto slavery to sustain the new hideout of this Turcoman bandoliers.


    *****​


    Abandoned, Homs fell first, in a few weeks, the time it needed for the Franks to build their siege towers and battering rams, all while the walls were bombarded by trebuchets. Its soldiers were slain almost to the last man; bizarrely enough, the very fact that the conquerors seemingly exacted the whole of their violent spirits against the military personnel in turn prevented the extension of such a barbarity against the civilians, whose women, children and non-combatants were unusually spared from bloodshed – even if their patrimony was reclaimed as a prize of conquest.

    Hama, in spite of its smaller size and population, continued to offer resistance for many days after the fall of Homs, but its fate was sealed nevertheless. This time, oddly enough, they too were spared from violence. The non-Christians were simply expelled, and its buildings were rapidly occupied by the numerous French armed pilgrims. The largest religious building of Homs had been a very ancient pagan temple dedicated to the sun god Elagabalus, in the times when the city was called “Emesa”, and which later became a basilica, and then a mosque, and now, once again, it was consecrated as a place of Christian worship; there, Gregory presided over a mass to commemorate victory.

    Al-Himsi himself was spared, and would be sent, together with his family, as a prisoner to Constantinople, but they would live the rest of their lives peacefully, in a small estate granted by the magnanimous Basileus in Bithynia.


    *****​


    The Outremerine lords fruitlessly proposed a deliberation to discuss to whom the lands of Homs would be attributed, as a fief of the Earthly Kingdom of God. To their surprise, King *Phillip, in a display of political ineptitude, simply ignored their pretenses and claimed Homs as his right of conquest; it would not be the first time that he would treat the Latin-Levantine grandees as no better than lesser barons, but no one dared oppose him - not even Prince Roger -, lest they might lose the support of France in the Crusade.

    Now, Phillip evidently had no intention of remaining in the Outremer, and thus ceded it to one of his younger brother, Robert of Paris, now created “Duke of Emèse”, a title that displeased more than one of the Latin-Levantine lords, most noticeably Roger, who was supposed to be the only Duke in the Outremer! The biggest problem was that Robert was, then, aged 14 years, and thus the King appointed one of his trusted men, Amalric III [French: Amaury], Count of Vexin - whose daughter Bertrade had been his father’s second wife, and thus held a significant position in the French court - to serve as regent. As it would happen, Robert, soon after attaining legal age, would return to Europe with a substantial portion of the treasure of Homs, and would never revisit the Outremer, leaving the administration of the Duchy to his trusted friend and steward, Simon III of Montfort - Amalric’s second son - fated to rule it as a perpetual regent.

    Also recognized as part of the newly-created “Duchy of Emèse”, were the urban centers of Hama, enfeoffed to William of Vermandois [French: Guillaume de Vermandois], Baron of Chaumont - the King’s brother-in-law, married to his bastard sister Isabelle - and Shayzar, one that had escaped the clutches of the Franks, but had been peacefully annexed by the Himsidids, now given to the patrimony of Elias [French: Hélie/Helias], the second son of Fulk V of Anjou, and titular Count of Maine. This one concession resulted from an arrangement made between the King and Count Fulk, who wanted to avoided the partition of his inheritance between his two sons, Geoffrey and Elias, and thus secured that only his firstborn would retain all of his French fiefs.


    *****​


    The annexation of Homs, Hama and Shayzar, barely a few years after the conquest of Damascus, effectively allowed the Crusader State to incorporate the fairest parts of Syria, with only a few of its settlements remaining independent, like Palmyra and Bosra, which, for being too remote, the Latins had little interest in conquering at the time.

    In the span of short of half a century, the Frankish invaders had not only wrestled Palestine, but also expanded in such a quick and impressive fashion that, undoubtedly, they ought to be receiving divine agency. Now the masters of the wealthiest lands and hubs of the Orient - the place that once harbored the Garden of Eden itself, now lost forever to mankind -, they were poised to collect the best share of the Earth’s resources.

    At least this is what they believed, when, in late 1140 A.D., they set their next course of action, which seemed sprung out of a feverish and insane dream.

    First they would restore the defunct County of Edessa, and, as per the wishes of their patron and benefactor, the Basileus, would revive the Kingdom of Armenia from the decadent rump emirates that feasted on its corpse.

    Finally, once they had secured Edessa and Armenia, they would undertake the most dauntless of the holy expeditions, one that had only been achieved once in human history, by the great King Alexander: the conquest of Babylon; that is, Baghdad.
     
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    52. A Crusade for Armenia (1140/1141)
  • N. of. A.: This chapter is a bit longer than the previous ones. Hope it is an enjoyable read, though. I tried to divide it without breaking the flow of the narrative. Some two or so more installments and we finish the part about the Second Crusade.


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    As we have seen in previous passages of this Chronicle, the years of 1139 and 1141 were particularly harsh to the populations of the Near East, struck as it was by the wrath of the Four Horsemen.

    Famine came to some of them after long spells of drought and cold, that made the pastures barren and the crops lame, and he allied with his brother, Pestilence, always invited to visit both the camps of the soldiers and the camps of the refugees.

    War came to most of them, ever delighted by the fact that human societies would inflict on each other so much suffering out of disputes concerning the will and whims of God.

    And Death… she came to all of them, being the ultimate empress of mankind, at the same time guarantor and deliverer of human misery.



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    Photography focusing in the ancient walls of Amida, called Diyarbakir by the Turks. This ancient fortress, at the time of the Second Crusade, belonged to the Turkish Artuqid dynasty before being captured by the Christians



    The Rhōmaîon army, led personally by Basileus John II Komnenos, left Antioch in the middle of spring, and followed the a northeastern-oriented ancient road that bordered the Amanus mountains. They were accompanied by some Frankish dignitaries: Count Theodorich of Flanders; Duke Conan III of Britanny [Breton: Konan Kerne], who had no desire of following the main French army, due to a rivalry with Fulk, Count of Anjou; and Theobald of Champagne, who had enjoyed the stay in Antioch and preferred to join the Greeks; among others.

    The other part of the Christian coalition, led by King *Phillip II of France, together with his various vassals and the Outremerine grandees, went from Aleppo, and followed the more direct north-oriented road.

    Voyages that could be made in a day and half by a few travelers took three or four times more, because of the logistical complications that such a massive human agglomeration created. It was not only about feeding soldiers and knights. There were many non-combatants, and, among these, women, children and elders with particular necessities. There were draught animals, from donkeys to camels, cattle to be herded, war horses, dogs and so forth, as well as various wagons and carriages. An army could not be sustained solely by faith, and neither only by game from hunt or by whatever resources local communities could spare; those were usually very few. No, one needed a reliable and constant influx of goods from predefined centers of collection and distribution. Aleppo would have been a very convenient point to make it so, but now that it was derelict due to the earthquake, the Christian coalition depended on the influx of resources from Asia Minor and from Latin Syria. Those coming from Anatolia were concentrated into Iconium, and were transported to Adana, and then to Alexandretta or Antioch, while those brought from Lebanon and Syria were directed to Laodicea and Maare [Arabic: Maʿarrat al-Nuʿmān], and from there they would be sent to Samosata. Aliments had their own inherent difficulties; vegetables, fruits, meat and dairy often spoiled without proper preservation; cereals were needed in vast amounts, but were easier to transport than bread and beer. Clothing, accessories and personal utensils never came in enough quantity to be available to everyone. Collective commodities such as various types of wood for construction, iron and other metals, leather, linen and paper, were, conversely, more difficult to transport in large quantities, and had often to be brought by ship from the Mediterranean, by the Greeks or the Italians. For the first time in centuries, the fluvial transport was revived as a primary means of allocation and distribution of resources, and it tells us much the fact that one contemporary Frankish chronicler greatly praises the Orontes river due to the role that it played in conveying goods from the Levant.

    The Basileus only permitted the coalition to march into Edessan territory once he ensured that the logistical network had been consolidated. Even so, the expedition was to face various issues as they ventured deep into Armenia, far from their hubs of resources. This, in turn, would provoke various issues, from deprivation to desertions, and severely delay their advances.

    The Christian armies reunited in Hantab [Arabic: Aintab/Modern Turkish: Gaziantepe], a city larger and more prosperous than Turbessel - which despite being the former capital of the fief, was merely a castle - and from there quickly went to Samosata, going along the Euphrates course. The land in the region was (to the Franks) surprisingly fertile, especially because in spring, between the floods of winter and the droughts of summer, the plains and pastures were verdant and plentiful. However, the chaos of war provoked substantial migrations and strained local communities, whose resources rarely could be spared.

    In Samosata, the Basileus exacted from the Count of Edessa an oath of allegiance, once again symbolically reaffirming his suzerainty over the Crusader principalities, while, on the other hand, Phillip eagerly accepted the release of some minor French barons of their vassalage; they would relinquish their estates in Europe to either the Crown or to the Church, in exchange for the promise of wealth and adventure as lords in this godforsaken frontier, and now joined the service of Edessa. The most notable example was the case of the the priest-knight Felix of Valois, an illegitimate son of Count Ralph of Amiens, who had recently joined the Templarians and would later found a castle in Gargar.


    *****​


    Historiography commonly divides the Armenian campaign of the Second Crusade in two distinct phases, in the years of 1140 and 1141.

    The first phase consisted in the (re)conquest of the occidental provinces of “royal” Armenia, which would be incorporated into Rhōmania. Concerning military operations, it was wholly uneventful, because they faced little resistance, be it from the locals, be it from external belligerents.

    The most notable case was the one of Melitene [Turkish: Malatya], a populous and rich metropolis that had changed between various Christian and Islamic rulers in the last few decades. Most recently, it had been brought into the dominion of the Danishmends, and under them she saw a brief period of prosperity; once this parvenu Turkmen dynasty fell, however, it devolved into a provincial government under an Armenian prince who, abhorrent of the Imperial regime, recognized Edessan suzerainty. Now, however, after the Seljuq invasion of Edessa, Melitene was de facto independent. It should have easily surrendered to the Basileus when his large coalition arrived, but, to everyone’s surprise, its gates were closed and entry was denied. The ruling prince of Melitene had been victim of a coup only a few months previously, and the new ruler was a charismatic tyrant named Mikail Ghazaryan, a former parochial bishop who now styled himself “Apostle and Patriarch”. His ferocious preaching convinced the denizens of Melitene that the Apocalypse was imminent, and that they ought to live as saints or die as martyrs; with this, he imposed a regime of terror, and actively persecuted both the Muslims and the Chalcedonian Christians, regarded as impure. Now, he claimed that the Basileus was the Antichrist, and ordered the city to take arms against him.

    The siege of Melitene was a short and unnecessary affair, but it had to be prosecuted. Seeing that diplomacy could not win capitulation, the allies were forced to act by force, and took the city by storm, destroying the ramparts and later they managed to oust Ghazaryan’s sicarians and impose some measure of order in the metropolis.

    In the next few months, the Emperor diplomatically annexed Harpout [Modern Turkish: Elazığ] and reaffirmed suzerainty over Kelezene [Modern Turkish: Erzincan], still under the rule of the Turkic client dynasty of the Mengujekids.

    Afterwards, the Crusader army was disbanded to the Edessan headquarters in the midst of summer. In the next following months the Basileus worked vividly to impose a semblance of actual military presence in the region, as well as to reignite the bureaucratic and administrative provincial apparatuses. By securing Melitene, the route of goods from Anatolia could follow a direct path into Armenia, and thus the Crusader army would become less dependent on Syria and the Outremer, but there were urgent matters to attend to: the appointment of mayors and fiscal agents in the local provinces, the reconstruction of derelict forts, relay stations and roads, and so forth.

    The consecutive months of idleness, however, sparked various conflicts among the Franks, especially after the Rhōmaîon armies too disbanded, going to Germanicia and Melitene, led by Andronikos Komnenos and Nikephoros Bryennios, respectively. Shortly thereafter, the Basileus himself returned to Constantinople with his trusted marshal, John Axouch.

    Then, until the spring of 1141, when the military operations were finally resumed, we see an accumulation of various problems in the camps of the Latins, in the form of various disputes between the distinct cultural groups of armed pilgrims, pitting French against Flemish and Norman, Aquitanian against Provençal, Bavarian against Lombard, and so forth. These troubles were aggravated by common complications of campaigning: deprivation caused by shortage of resources and the difficulty of imposing order in a composition of diverging hierarchies, be them baronial, comital, ecclesiastical or burghese.

    On the other hand, non-Catholic minorities, Syrians, Palestinians, Turcopoles and Armenians, were usually ostracized and lacked any say in relevant matters, including the distribution of the goods and spoils of war, and this inspired frequent desertions and, sometimes, outright mutinies. In the span of a few months, the army suffered a substantial reduction in size, without even a single battle being fought.


    *****​


    With a complete disregard for superior orders, and ignoring the exhortation of the Rhōmaîoi to not advance any further into Armenia, some of the French lords, most notably Fulk of Anjou and Odo II of Burgundy, assembled their divisions in the autumn of 1140 and marched against “Siveral” [Modern Turkish: Siverek], located on the other side of the Euphrates, a city that nominally belonged to the Turkish Artuqids of Amida [Turkish: Diyarbakir], but was actually ruled by a Kurdish Sheik. The French, even though they lacked knowledge about the terrain, convinced the Kurds to do battle not far from Siveral and easily vanquished their small party. This, in turn, convinced its local ruler to surrender after being extorted into paying a substantial tribute of gold.

    The easy triumph in turn inspired some other French magnates to join their independent expedition, such as Archibald VII of Bourbon [French: Archambaud de Bourbon], Odo II of Déols and Salon of Sens. This time, they went south to Constantia [Modern Turkish: Viranşehir], in the region that the ancient Romans used to call “Osrhoene”. This one too was held by the Artuqids and, this time, the Turks were prepared, having called reinforcements among the Kurds. Once again, the more numerous and seemingly more determined Franks came victorious in the battlefield, albeit they failed to actually wipe out the enemy force, as their individual bands dispersed through the mountains and valleys after being routed.

    After the Frankish Dukes besieged Constantia, they were soon joined by the royal army of King *Phillip II, who, in spite of lacking real interest in this expedition, wanted to take part in the division of spoils. He could not forbid his vassals from waging this own petty war; they had, after all, a ducal prerogative to command their own armies and, after the expiration of the usual period of forty days of campaign to which they were obliged to the liege, they were free to depart or to devise their own agenda. In a few days, Constantia fell and was mercilessly plundered.

    Nonetheless, seeing its potential as an advanced base beyond Edessan territory, the King of France granted Constantia as a fief to Duke Odo II of Burgundy, who, in turn, enfeoffed it to his younger brother Raymond of Grignon, know christened as Count.

    In that very year, they even attempted to besiege the hill-city of Mardin, one of the former capitals of the Artuqids, but it was a short-lived effort, as the winter approached, and the French army was struck with an epidemic of camp fever.


    *****​


    The second phase of the Armenian theater of war happened in the next year, of 1141. This time, the Christian armies, once again reunited - the Rhōmaîon once again led in person by its tireless Emperor - issued an official declaration of war against the Artuqids, and demanded immediate and unconditional surrender.

    Predictably, the ultimatum was ignored. The Turkmen had already mustered their forces, led by Bey Husayn ad-Din Timurtash [Turkish: Hüsameddin Timurtaş], and were joined by Buri Saif al-Islam, who brought reinforcements from Mosul. They had expected that the Franks would once again attack Mardin, because it was relatively more vulnerable from the western size, but oddly enough the Crusaders opted to advance directly against the Artuqid capital, Amida [Diyarbakir].

    Amida was a very ancient fortress, which had served well in the constant wars between the ancient Romans and the Sassanid Persians. It was there where the ancient Royal Road of the Achaemenids crossed the Tigris River, and thus it held enormous strategic relevance for the various armies that threaded through Asia ever since the beginning of times. In 1141, it was a shadow of its former self, but it was relevant still as one of the most formidable fortified settlements of Armenia.

    The Christians seemed well prepared to prosecute a siege, and brought many engines of war, including the dreaded Greek Fire. It was, though, all but evident that they intended to preserve the fortifications, and made an effort to physically overcome the walls without damaging them, preferring the employment of siege towers and ladders instead of trebuchets and sappers. Being sidelined by the extensive course of the Tigris, they could not completely encircle the circuit of walls, and so their efforts were concentrated against the western side of the fortifications.

    In their static position however, while assailing the fortifications, the Latins and Greeks became easy prey for an unending stream of Turkic horse cavalrymen. The Frankish and Rhōmaîon light cavalry and mobile troops, even in their best performance, could scantily repulse the determined Turks, who would ford the river once they were attacked and would then proceed to unleash hundreds of arrows upon any Frank or Greek horseman that attempted to cross the stream in pursuit.

    Taking advantage of the sizeable numerical superiority, however, the Crusaders stood ground, in the plains west of Amida, and continued the blockade, all while erecting their own circuit of improvised palisades, ditches and camps to keep the Turks at bay.

    Seeing that it was of no use to attempt to expel the Crusaders, Emir Buri changed his strategy and, fording the Tigris downriver, went behind the enemy lines to conduct a large-scale razzia with the intent of disrupting their supply lines. His men went as far as the Euphrates valley, whereupon they were deterred by a circuit of well-garrisoned bastions erected by the Rhōmaîoi along the fluvial bridges of the Euphrates. To avoid being entrapped there, he turned to the south and from there back to the east, to attempt an attack against the rearguard of the Crusaders.

    This, too, failed, and the siege of Amida persisted.

    The capital of the Artuqids would fall shortly thereafter. In spite of its numerous population, the battle-ready defenders were relatively few, and were overwhelmed by the assault of the Christians. The native Christians, mostly Pontic Greeks and Armenians, as well as the Muslims, mostly Kurds and Syrians, had grown used to the mild Artuqid regime, but had no true love towards their foreign masters and made little effort to assist the Turkish loyalists once the Franks and Rhōmaîoi penetrated the city. Disheartened and demoralized, many conscripted militiamen simply deserted and barricaded themselves in their own homes while the Artuqid retainers were slaughtered or imprisoned.

    Once his wives, children and relatives were made hostages, Husayn Bey, who, at the time, was afield with Emir Buri, had no choice but to capitulate, and sent heralds to the Basileus to attempt to negotiate a secret truce. Saif al-Islam soon discovered about this, however, and immediately turned against Husayn Bey, imprisoning him. The remaining Artuqid soldiers of Amida accepted service in Buri’s army while their former liege was sent in chains to the citadel of Mosul.

    Saif al-Islam even attempted to force the Latins into battle after they had entered Amida, but his efforts did not produce results, and, seeing no use in continuing the campaign alone, he preemptively turned against Mardin. Aware that if the Christians captured this one city too, they would be in perfect position to advance against Mosuli territory, Saif al-Islam, after entering Mardin against the wishes of Najm ad-Din Alp Arslan, the local Artuqid dynast, ordered its evacuation, and conscripted the Artuqids into the Seljuq army - at least in name. Najm ad-Din Alp Arslan was also imprisoned and sent as a hostage to Mosul. Afterwards, his soldiers leveled the walls and torched the buildings, and thus the hill upon which Mardin was built became naked once again. Now, the Artuqids, formerly the most formidable of the Anatolian Turkic beyliks, barring the Seljuqs of Rûm, saw their their ignominious fate: reduced to only a minor and poor province further to the north, centered in the castle of Hasankeyf.

    Having taken Mardin out of the equation, Saif al-Islam then occupied the ancient fortress of Nisibis [Arabic: Nusaybin] without great effort, ousting the local Artuqid ruler, and granting it to a loyal Turkish lieutenant named Imad ad-Din Zengi.

    Having apparently secured the northwestern border of his dominion, Buri disbanded his army and voyaged with his cadre of vassals to the court of his ally Sökmen II Shah-Armen, to summon his assistance against the infidels.


    *****​


    In the middle of 1141, the Christian army almost fractured apart due to disputes between their leaders. Once again, the Basileus had voyaged back to Europe, this time to Thessalonica, and, being he the keystone that cemented the cohesion of the army, his absence provoked the resurgence of intestine factionalism. The Rhōmaîoi generals, chief of them being Sebastokrátor Andronikos Komnenos, wanted to continue their expedition to reduce the rest of Armenia, as far as Lake Van, but the Franks, both the Levantines and the French, lost the interest in this campaign; they wanted to go south and march against Baghdad by following the course of the Euphrates river. The Rhōmaîoi, understandably, were baffled by the realization that the Latins genuinely wanted to march against Baghdad, and vehemently opposed it.

    Thus, while the Rhōmaîon host marched eastward to reduce the city they called "Kephia" [Arabic: Ḥiṣn Kayfa‘/Modern: Hasankeyf], the instead Franks voyaged to the south, back to Constantia, and from there to Asachia [Arabic: Al-Hasakah], a hill-fort in the Euphrates. The latter was governed by an old Kurdish family that claimed descent from the ancient Arsacid dynasty, the city offered no opposition to the Christians and, in fact, welcomed them and furnished much needed goods.

    However, the army, with every kilometer they ventured south, suffered greatly with the insupportable hot climate of the region and, soon enough, with the lack of resources, as well as with malaria and a particularly violent epidemic of dysentery. Grudgingly aware that they could not venture so far without the victual resources of the Empire, they returned north, to a more comfortable position in Amida, and, from there, they returned to Samosata with King Phillip. By then, their ranks had been severely decimated by disease, attrition and malnourishment, to the point that one could say that they had to consecrate a graveyard to the fallen pilgrims in each city of this godforsaken country. Desertions had become frequent to the point that the King had released some of his most important vassals from their oath - they had, after all, already fulfilled their vows - and accepted the others as volunteers instead as conscripts.


    *****​


    It was in Samosata that they were rendezvoused with the Basileus. John II Komnenos, as soon as he heard about the divorce of the Christian armies, and about the Franks’ blundered attempt of marching to Baghdad, immediately sent his envoys to Armenia to convince them to await for his arrival.

    Indeed, the Basileus had returned to Constantinople, two months previously, for the second time mid-campaign, in anticipation of the arrival of another Crusader army, this one comprising Hungarians, Serbians and Croatians. Their leaders were Justiciar George [Hungarian: Cronik fia György], Macarius, Archbishop of Esztergom [Hungarian: Makár], and the Serbian prince Desa, the youngest son of the Uroš I, the old monarch of Serbia.

    As it happened, the previous King of Hungary, Béla II “the Blind”, a religious and pious man, had pledged to join the *Second Crusade, and initiated preparations to join the Basileus’ army in late 1140, before passing away in early 1141; his successor was Géza II, then a child of 10 years. The enthusiasm in Hungary for the holy expedition almost vanished, especially because Géza’s uncle and regent, the Serbian prince Beloš, had little interest in crusading. However, the Hungarian Crusade still came to be by the dedicated intervention of Queen dowager Helena, who eagerly sponsored it. Thus, after some initial delay, many from Hungary and also Serbia and Croatia joined the lordly and ecclesiastical banners.

    Now, this force was not particularly large, and, unlike the host of France, it had a less belligerent character, because many of them were civilians who had joined in hope of a direct pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and not of waging a war in Armenia. In any case, they were bound to the will of their lords, and these ones, happy by the promise of fortune and fame, quickly adhered to the Basileus’ grand design.

    Now, the King of France, it has been said, became greatly embarrassed when he witnessed the arrival of this new crusading expedition. John Komnenos admonished and exhorted him to bring his arms to the deliverance of the infidels, under the shadow of the True Cross. One Frankish chronicler recounts that King *Phillip II, upon being presented, by the Emperor, with a document signed by the Pope himself, demanding him to honor the legacy of his Carolingian predecessors, was thrown into a frenzy and vowed to sleep everyday with his mail cloth until the Saracens had been vanquished from Armenia.

    Only when the French and Hungarian Crusaders and the Rhōmaîoi soldiers crossed the Euphrates, going to Amida, did they discover that the army of Sebastókrator Andronikos, while attempting to wrestle the fortified city of Kephia [Hasankeyf] from the Artuqids, had been repealed by a large Turkish army, led by Buri Saif al-Islam and Sökmen II Ahlatshahlah.

    According to the Latins, it seemed that, God, in His infinite wisdom, had breathed a holy inspiration into a new wave of Crusaders exactly in the hour of need!

    The Mahometans, coming from the region of Lake Van, entered the province of Kephia from its eastern border and relieved the besieged town. Realizing that his position was untenable, Andronikos Komnenos retreated all the way back to Amida, expecting to hold it against a siege by the Turks.

    Before putting Amida to siege, however, Saif al-Islam and Sökmen Shah were informed about the approach of the Christian reinforcements, and decided to await, and established an encampment in the entrance of the valley where Kephia is cradled, on the shores of the Tigris river. There, the “Sword of Islam” knew that the fate of Armenia would be decided at last.


    On next chapter: the battle between Crusaders and the Turks; and the Latin Principality will see an attempted invasion from Egypt. Can they now fight a war in two fronts?


    ___________________________________________________________________________________



    Notes: Well, well, how about some Hungarians and Orthodox Slavs in the Crusader soup? I guess many of you weren't expecting it, but it is not unprecedented. Keep in mind, though, that their overall relevance will be much smaller than that of the French, so we won't be having Hungarian knights in the Outremer just now. That is, however, certainly in the realm of possibility, considering that, afterwards, there will likely be more interest for crusading among the Balkanic states.

    You might be feeling that the chapters about the Second Crusade are dragging a bit long. That's, in part, intentional; not only due to the attention I want to give to interesting details, but also so the reader can try to feel how would be a Medieval war of attrition, unlike the traditional wars that were based in a few engagements and raiding attacks. This alternate Second Crusade is supposed to be a grueling and tiring episode, for all the parties involved. In any case, I'm already nearing the conclusion.
     
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    53. A Day in the Life of the Emir of Mosul (1142)
  • Alp_arslan_sultan.jpg


    Non-contemporary statue representing Taj al-Muluk Buri "Saif al-Islam", Emir of Mosul. There are no contemporary extant depictions of his image


    When the Christian army arrived, Taj al-Muluk Buri ibn Toghtekin “Saif al-Islam” had already deployed his troops, in the entrance of the valley of Hasankeyf, that the Arabs used to call Ḥiṣn Kayfa‘, but the Greeks had named Kiphas or Kephia. The city itself was not rich or populous, but it controlled a strategic position into eastern Armenia, and from whence one could penetrate into Jaziria from its northern border, right into Mosuli territory. Saif al-Islam had no intention of allowing passage.

    Now, he remembered the first time he had met the Franks in battle. It had been… what, some thirty years ago? Indeed, he was young still. His father had joined the very first jihad against the infidels, conducted by the despicable Tutushid brothers and the cursed Fatimids, who desecrated the legacy of the Prophet, peace be upon him. After the battle near al-Quds [Jerusalem], in which the armies of the faithful, united in disgrace, were vanquished by the armies of the Franj, Saif al-Islam, with only four of his companions, entered in the Holy City and attempted to burn it from the inside. Alas, he knew that he would be forever cursed for laying his hand against the city where the Prophet, peace be upon him, had ascended to Heaven. But, instead, Allah had appointed him the ultimate endeavor: the submission of the infidel.

    And, indeed, he hated them. The Franj and the Rûm. They were ′Ahl al-Kitāb of course - People of the Book, unlike the idolaters, who worshipped creatures and spirits -, but in their obsession and delusion they profaned the word of Isa al-Masih [Jesus Christ], the last of the prophets before Muhammad, peace be upon him. Now, Saif al-Islam saw the truth: the Franj and the Rûm were kafir - disbelievers - and for this they had to be submitted or destroyed, there could be no peace with the unfaithful, because there had to be submission.

    Like many of his contemporaries, especially among the Turkmen, whose passions were war and hunt, and not literature and arts, Buri was only barely literate, and had never actually read the Qu’ran, but there was not a single day in his life in which one of his preceptors would not sing the surah to him, after the morning prayer. And he could recite some of them from memory, but, in the end, all that mattered was not the word of the Qu'ran itself, but the precepts and principles of the faith, which he, as a devout Muslim, was supposed to follow. While he knew much about the lineage of his Turkic forefathers from the steppe, he did not see himself distinguished by his customs nor by his mother tongue, but rather by his religion. And he did not care if his soldiers were Turkish, Persian, Arab or Kurd, but rather if they were Sunni or not. They were all ghazi - warriors of the faith.

    And now, Saif al-Islam had grown in age and power and prestige, but he had failed the ultimate endeavor. He could only feel shame. If he had to offer the lives of every one of his sons and daughters and wives and brothers as well as his father and his soldiers, everyone of whom he loved as if they belonged to his own soul, he would, for the honor of Allah, as had done old Ibrahim, who father of Ishak and Ishmael. Because it was his purpose, to submit the unfaithful, lest he might never be deserving of Allah’s embrace.


    *****​


    When the Christians advanced to give battle, it was not long before Saif al-Islam realized that they would experiment with a different tactical formation. The Kaisar î-Rûm, called simply Kumninu [Komnenos], organized the battle in the odd shape of a staircase: in the left side, it was some lines deeper than in the middle, and then this one was a few lines deeper than in the right side, oriented along a vague diagonal axis. Now, it was all but evident that by this they intended, in some way, to frustrate the advantage of the Turkmen in the open field, with their horse archers, but forcing the cavalry to either concentrate fire in a part of the enemy line or to disrupt their own formations, to permit mobility, but to the cost of losing their own cohesion.

    Now, the Franj, much like the Rûm before them, had long since realized that the Turkish horse archers were not merely skirmishers but rather the main corps of their army; the Turkmen were trained from early age to operate on horseback, but they, contrary to what some Franj believed, were used to perform as heavy cavalry and infantry as well. One Turkman was expected to wield the saber as well as the bow. And now, to the Christians’ surprise, seemingly all of the enemy fighters were horse cavalrymen! How could this be possible? A battle without infantry?

    But the Mosuli Emir was determined to submit these rabid dogs to a painful fate, and employed solely horse cavalry. His archers, second to none in the Orient, would exsanguinate the Christians. And this he did, for hours and hours. By securing the open expansive fields in the country between Diyarbakir and Hasankeyf, he employed his men in small groups, supposed to act as independent cells, but coordinated into larger attacks, not unlike a swarm of wasps assailing a bison.

    Yes, the Franji knights were very resilient, as were the Kataphraktoi, but they were slow and would be tired by constant pursuit, even more as they were punished by the sun and dry winds.

    Now, the Christians brought plenty of light cavalrymen. There were many Turks, but also Cumans and Pechenegs, and stranger peoples even, such as those Hungarians, with distinctive feathers in their coats, as well as some blonde-haired soldiers from distant Faransa [France], who went to battle with only small shields and javelins. The hardest part of the battle, and the one that could have decided its fate, actually, was the engagement between the light cavalry of the Christians and that of the Muslims. In this, the later prevailed, being more actually numerous - even if in global numbers they were outnumbered by a significant margin - and better equiped and trained. Barring the Cumans and Pechenegs and Hungarians, few to none of the European horsemen could really match the Turkmen veterans, and, exhausted after successive melees and skirmishes, the Christian side faltered, all while their infantrymen and heavy cavalry had barely engaged, having unsuccessfully attracted the Turkish horsemen to a closer position. This happened until nightfall, but the battle did not stop, not until they were completely enveloped by darkness.


    *****​


    The Christians did not retreat. Why would they? Their numbers were much larger, and the Turks could not do this forever; they would run out of arrows eventually, for sure!

    In the next day, they adopted an even more aggressive stance, trusting their own cells of cavalry to act more autonomously, but, this time, they avoided maintaing a static position, as they had tried in the previous day. Now, on the contrary, they formed defensive columns and squares and actually marched eastward, all while under continuous assault by the Turkish horse archers.

    This seemed what Saif al-Islam intended, to corral the large army into the narrow pass of the valley, whereupon certainly they would be welcomed into a trap; most certainly, his infantrymen would deter their advantage while their rearguard would be overwhelmed by the cavalry. To develop his strategem, he at least twice executed the infamous tactic of feigning retreat; and this the Emir did with such a mastery and proficiency that many of the Franji, from noble to commoner alike, believing to have finally routed the Turkish cavalrymen, attempted to pursue them and, in exhilaration, broke their formation, ony to be slaughtered down by hundreds of arrows by the gleeful Turkmen.

    Kumninu, however, was no fool, and, like many of the Franji nobles of Falastin [Palestine], was all too familiar with the tactic of feigned retreat, and, after the second time, reined down his dogs of war so they would not be senselessly butchered in their frenzy.

    In the end of the second day, the Christians closed near the entrance of the valley, but, perhaps predictably, they refused to enter it, suspicious that it was, most certainly, a deception. Now, to Buri’s surprise, they set a fortified camp in the very doorway of the valley, near the Tigris river, surrounding themselves with wagons and cow hides. Reacting to his strategem, Kumninu wanted now to keep the Turkmen out of the valley in which they were being forced to enter. With this, he wanted to coerce Buri into playing his last ace in a disadvantage; as it was expected, Mosuli and Ahlati’s infantry had been deployed into the valley, to protect Hasankey, but now the Muslim army had been divided into two halves. This obviously surprised, among the Turkish generals, Sökmen II, as he did not expect that the Crusaders would actually attempt - in contrariation of all common tactical sense - a battle in two distinct sides, all while the Muslims had their archers positioned atop the mountains towering the valley to assault the newcomers.

    What the Muslim generals did not expect was that the Kaisar î-Rûm was willing to pay the blood price to conquer that piece of the earth, and he was. He knew that by entering the valley, the Christians would suffer significant losses, being a rather worse position, but he was now dictating the terms of the battle, and they had numbers to spare. Only time could tell if the Christians, with their many pilgrims who had never grabbed a weapon in their life, would resist.

    By the end of the day, having established cohesive squares of infantry - whereas even the knights and aristocrats dismounted to fight side-by-side with their men -, not unlike the “testudos” used by the ancient Romans, the Christians exploited the advantage of numbers and of the dreaded crossbowmen, whose speed and range outmatched the Muslim infantry, all while the rearguard of the army, reinforced by veteran soldiers, formed another line to defend against the incessant attacks of the thousands of archers who had been barred from entering the valley.

    Now, after sacrificing many and many souls in this cursed valley, the Latins and Greeks successfully forced the Muslim infantry out of the battlefield, to retreat to Hasankeyf in desperation. Now, having secured the entrance, the Christians reorganized and, even in sight of the ample casualties, reformed their brigades and hardened their hearts, and advanced into the valley, even under barrages of darts and missiles from the skirmishers located upon the crags and cliffs.


    hasankeyf.jpg


    Modern-day photography of Hasankeyf/Kephia, located in the margins of the Tigris River. In its ancient layout, the city was a small hilltop fortress located in the middle of the valley, but it did not present an obstacle to passage of land armies.


    Now, Saif al-Islam was furious. His men had made the field and the valley into a massive graveyard for the Christians, but their resolve was seemingly unshakable. He realized that the trap that he had concocted against them turned against himself: if his cavalry entered, en masse, in the valley, they would be at the mercy of the Christians, without room to maneuver.

    Then, as they moved against Hasankeyf, slowly venturing into the valley, Saif al-Islam retreated from the field, and maneuvered through the southern flank of the mountains.


    *****​


    To the Latins and Greeks’ surprise, however, not long after they besieged “Kephia”, Saif al-Islam and Sökmen II appeared once again; as if conjured by the earth itself, they appeared from the east of the city, to protect against a possible encirclement. As it happened, in the span of a single day, in a remarkable - almost legendary - maneuver, Buri’s men circumvented the valley and, going by a southward path, escalated and descended the mountains by an ancient shepherd’s pass, one so narrow that men had to walk in a single file. Many had to leave their horses behind, but now their purpose was to protect the city, and so they would never be able to maneuver with their equines near the sandy shores of the Tigris river.

    The siege of Hasankeyf lasted less than a month. The Christians resisted by sheer resolve, but they were exhausted and distraught by the casualties, by the heat of the day and cold of the night, by the constant and never ending engagements, which, in the first days, had even involved the firethrowers that the Arabs called naffatun.

    The Greeks were the first to plead for the armistice, but Sökmen-Shah refused, because they wanted the whole of Armenia, and the Arman-Shahs would never accept these terms. Saif al-Islam had the whole Christian army cornered in the valley and believed that, given time, he could force them to capitulate in better terms.

    Alas, he would soon realize that Kumninu was adept in playing a long game, with macroscopic perspective, and that their whole operation was seemingly a mere diversion. Indeed, it was soon that the Emir and the Shah received the unexpected and grave news about an incursion against Ahlat, coming from the Georgians.

    Indeed, as we have mentioned elsewhere in this Chronicle, the Rhōmaîoi and the Georgians had forged an alliance in the reign of King David IV Bagrationi. By the time of his death, David had made himself the suzerain of the lands between the Kura and the Araxes rivers. He had submitted the Kurdish Shaddadids, a dynasty that ruled in Ani and in Ganja, but allowed them to remain in rule as vassals, and later the same fate befell Shirvan, whose self-proclaimed “Shah” was deposed. Now, the Kingdom of Georgia was under the helm of Demetrius, who was as ambitious as his late father and predecessor, and eagerly took the opportunity of expanding his domain in detriment of the Shah-Armens, these insolent wretches who had refused to recognize Georgian overlordship.

    Demetrius marched from Dvin together with his vassal monarchs, Fakr al-Din Shaddad ibn Mahmud - one who had only recently been defeated, and still resented the Georgian rule, but was now too eager to prey upon the vulnerable Ahlatshahs to the south of his country - and Manuchihr III of Shirvan, who had been made Demetrius’ son-in-law by marriage to his daughter Rusudan. In the span of less than a week, they had reduced the border fortresses and advanced directly against the Shah-Armen capital of Ahlat, situated in the northern shore of Lake Van. Blockading the city was easy enough, but the Georgians wanted a quick resolution and took down its gates after a rapid siege.

    Back in Hasankeyf, Buri’s army saw itself in a difficult position. Sökmen abandoned the campaign with his own soldiers to march against the Georgians, but his ally could not join him, and thus he saw himself in a weakened position. Cursed be the kafir!


    *****​


    Saif al-Islam attempted to resist the siege, and refused capitulation, but the fighting came to a stalemate. His cavalry, still located westward, beyond the Christian rearguard, had no condition to operate inside the valley and dismounted to engage them, but then the Christians formed consecutive trenches to secure their own position.

    The Mosuli Emir expected that the Christians, cut off from their supply lines, would soon starve; their numbers would become their own disadvantage, and it was but a matter of days. However, as soon the Shah-Armens abandoned Buri’s side, Kumninu and the Franj took immediate action, surprising even Buri, and, bypassing the circuit of walls of Hasankeyf, marched directly against the remaining Muslim infantry in the other side of the line. The Basileus’ master plan had worked to perfection; had the Georgians failed to act, in the span of a few days, the Greeks and Latins would indeed have been entrapped in the valley without hope of escape; now, with the Muslims reduced and demoralized, they were assaulted. The prey revealed itself to be the predator, after all.

    Once the outnumbered Mahometan infantry was vanquished, with only a handful of them surviving a grueling engagement, the Christians returned to Hasankeyf and, once again, ignored it, and marched back to the entrance of the valley, with the intent of facing the dismounted Turkish cavalrymen. This time, however, victory was not easy; the Franj and Rûm suffered many losses in the melee against the veteran troops of Buri.

    In the end, however, the sheer superiority of numbers allowed the Christians to overwhelm the Muslims while facing serious tactical and logistical difficulties.

    The joy of seeing that the Christians slain by the thousands did not wash the bitter taste of defeat and humiliation; once again, he had been bested by them, his hated enemies. He, alone, the champion of the faith, with his tiny Emirate, attempted to counter the the might of Romyyun and of Faransa, suffering with blood and steel, all while his Saljuq overlord enjoyed a languid afternoon in his palace.

    Hasankeyf - now to be definitely called Kephia - had to be given. It was her fate to fall, and now the Rûmi could claim mastery over the fairest part of Armenia.


    *****​

    The conquest of Hasankeyf/Kephia ended the middle phase of the *Second Crusade, and would in fact be the last act of the Greek reconquest of Armenia. In the next years, the Armenians would also see the rise of the star of Georgia, whose monarchs, exploiting the foundations laid by King David IV, would usher a true golden age, one that would bring great prosperity and tranquility to Armenia, in the wake of the Seljuq downfall.

    After the battle, the Crusaders from Hungary voyaged to Jerusalem in haste together with the Outremerine army, seeing that they had received alarming news about an invasion from Egypt and a rebellion in eastern Syria, that threatened their hold over Damascus.

    Alas, we will see that Saif al-Islam, old and tired by war - one that lasted for all his life - would return to Mosul broken and infuriated, believing to have been betrayed by all his correligionaries, who had, not unlike vulturers, had abandoned him to face alone, like a lone lion, a whole pack of jackals. Indeed, he knew that the other vassals of the Saljuq court had been conspiring against him, and avidly commemorated what they believed to be the prelude of his downfall among the powerbrokers of the Sultanate.

    But he refused it to simply acquiesce to a position of subservience and humility. He had been defiant of fate ever since the day of his birth - legend say that he was supposed to die before seeing the first light after leaving the womb, but Allah had decreed that he would live -, and so he would meet it in his own terms.

    In 1147, insulted by his nemesis, the Atabeg of Azerbaijan, Shams ad-Din Ildeniz - who had made himself a virtually independent monarch in Azerbaijan after Mas’ud spiraled in a circle of debauchery and slothfulness - Saif al-Islam declared war against him and invaded the Azeri atabeylik. This, in turn, would allow the formation of a coalition against Mosul, led by the Sultan himself, who joined with Ildeniz to depose the rebellious vassal.

    This war would be a long one, and neither Saif al-Islam nor his hated suzerain, Mas’ud, would live to see its end, as the former was fated to pass away in 1149, and the later in 1152. Afterwards, the last vestiges of the monarchy’s authority would fade, and the former vassals would usher an age of warlordism, of brother fighting against brother, fated to last almost three decades.


    _______________________________________________


    Notes: OK, this chapter is a bit different and experimental. I've focused on the battle, but I figure that the descriptions might be a bit confused and fuzzy. I'll be sure to revise it in a few days.

    Now, some readers might skip the discussions of the thread, and, for those who did not read my previous non-storyline post, I've been explaining that I realized a mistake in previous chapters, by mentioning the Shirvanshahs as vassals of the Seljuks, but rather, in 1142, they were vassals of Georgia, and this is mentioned here. I'll retcon the previous chapters to correct the mistake.

    Also, the relationship between Georgia and the Shaddadids is a bit complicated. The Wiki doesn't goes in detail, but it seems that the Shaddadids still controlled Ani in the 1140s, during the reign of Demetrius, but there seemed to be a vassalage/client-state relationship, which I mentioned only briefly to avoid specifics.

    Next chapter will close the Second Crusade arc, promise. The following ones will be a break on the narrative, in which we'll focus in culture, economics and other details I believe would be interesting to explore in greater detail.
     
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    54. A Brief Story of the German Crusade. End and Aftermath of the Second Crusade (1143/1144)
  • Hello there, folks. Sorry for the delays, as usual. Lots os commitments and so forth. But, anyways, let's get to the point. There have been 9 pages of discussions and no update. So, here's the closing of the Second Crusade arc. I'll be posting some few more non-narrative chapters dealing with aspects of the daily life in the alt-Crusader State, from economy and culture to cuisine and so forth. It's a very common request from readers, and it will help flesh out this world we're building here.

    ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


    Massacre_of_Jews.jpg


    Non-contemporary painting representing the capture of an Egyptian city. It is highly fantasious, and mostly inspired in Ancient Roman and Greek imagery than properly in the descriptions of contemporary sources (c. 1550s)


    By the end of 1142, the Rhōmaîoi had established the military hold over western Armenia, while its heartland, near Lake Van, had been secured by the Georgians and their Turkic vassals. The Latin army was mostly disbanded, with the Franco-Levantine princes returning to Syria to assess the news about an uprising in the region of Damascus, all while the Crusader armies that had come from Europe departed from Asia.

    As it happened, the revolt in Syria was but a sedition commandeered by a disgruntled Christian Syrian officer who, after mustering a group of peasants, attempted to stage a coup in Damascus, but failed to even enter the city after its gates were closed. The revolters then fled to an abandoned hilltop fort near the desert, and were slaughtered by the Frankish knights established in Syria. This would be the last native rebellion to be seen in the region for the next few decades.

    More troubling, actually, would be an assault conducted by a group of raiders affiliated to the Fatimid Caliphate. They were led by an obscure, but nonetheless interesting, personage named Ahmed as-Salih. His lack of nasab [patronymic name] betrays his mamluk origin, and there is still debate as to if he’s of Turkic or Berber origin. A bandit who, in times of peace and stability, would meet a quick demise in the gallows, he thrived in chaos and received an offer by the Caliphal government, already in decay by corruption and vicious factionalism, to become a lieutenant. In this official military capacity, he unleashed his doglike freebooters against both the hapless peasantry of the Nile, and those who lived in the lands now ruled by the Franks, in southern Palestine.

    His temerity was such that he simply bypassed any and every Frankish fort in Palestine, and endeavored to prey upon the unprotected peasants deep into enemy territory, going as far as the outskirts of Jerusalem. By avoiding the roads, and going through the hill-lands and rugged wilderness, they eluded the handful of Frankish knights charged with guarding the lands of the magnates, and eventually returned to the Sinai without fighting a single battle.

    In spite of the surprising act of violence, his relevance in the grand scheme of things would be minimal. By then, the Franks were already deeply entrenched in the Near East, and the Fatimids were a paper tiger, ever fractured by internal issues, and increasingly more relying on mercenaries. It was but a matter of time before the Fatimid-affiliated Berbers and Turkic mamluks became not the coadjuvants, but rather the main actors of the political chess inside the Caliphate, displacing and domesticating the native Arabic-Egyptian aristocracy. This circumstance, in turn, will alienate the regional magnates, whose allegiance will turn to foreign agencies, such as the lords of Yemen and the African Almohads, in an effort to further their own ambitions to wrestle power from the puppeteers of the Caliph in Cairo.


    ******​


    The final act of the Second Crusade is one truly vilified by contemporary and modern historians - some of which even go as far as claiming that it was not really “part” of the Second Crusade, but a separate expedition altogether - and it was the campaign conducted by the Crusaders from Germany against the Fatimid Egypt. The campaign, which lasted shortly more than a year, happened between the middle of 1143 and early 1144. It was, to put it simply, an unmitigated disaster, marred by poor strategic decisions, factionalism and haughtiness.
    The German magnates apparently believed that their status as vassals of [Latin] Christendom’s ultimate monarch warranted them a privileged standing among the European potentates, and this brought some serious issues even as they traversed to Asia. The passage through Hungary was tumultuous enough to incur the protests of its king, who threatened to never allow the entrance of German Crusaders in his territory. In Constantinople, the Germans refused to pay the traditional homage to the Basileus - a fixture initiated during the First Crusade that, by that time, had already become an unobtrusive formality.

    John Komnenos, ever conscious of the value of diplomacy and of civilized manners, nonetheless granted this last congregation of devoted expeditionaries hospitality and safe passage into and across Anatolia. He was, however, alarmed by the verification that the Crusaders, having festively celebrated the fall of Damascus in western Europe, were now obsessed with reducing the realm of Egypt. Not that the Emperor really believed that this unruly mob would really be prepared to undertake the conquest of the Fatimid Caliphate - decrepit as it was now - but he did not deign underestimate their resolve and fanaticism. So, even if the coffers of the treasury were already being drained by a multitude of military and administrative syphons, and the standing army was thinly spread along the newly reconquered provinces and border fortresses, John hastily prepared another military enterprise to join the Crusaders in their assault against Egypt, this time prioritizing the naval capabilities of the Empire. It would be an unnecessary effort.

    Serious issues in the German expedition occurred due to the fact that none of the lords were actually dedicated to the Crusade; they believed it would suffice to pay their pilgrimage to Jerusalem and from there assault Egypt, a land that they believed to be so rich that even date palms would grow with gold and spices. The Duke of Bavaria and the Duke of Swabia knew that it was a matter of time before the [Holy Roman] Empire became beset by a dynastic war, and, failing to trust one another, neither of them brought to the Orient the full extent of their own private armies, nor of their wealth. It seemed, indeed, that they wanted to hastily prosecute this “papist” affair so they could resume their normal state of enmity back in Europe. The mutual distrust of the Bavarian and Swabian lieutenants enforced a tacit segregation of the armies, and their respective allies, such as the lords from Austria and from Franconia, also incited by petty vanities and self-serving purposes, made no effort to cement cohesion and friendship.

    Their animosity was such that it was said that one man would rather desert from the Crusade altogether, because if he was captured, he would suffer flogging, lest he might die if he changed his allegiance from one bannerlord to another.

    They seemed to earnestly believe that they could conquer Egypt with small armies of veterans and that the spoils of war would pay wholly for the enterprise. The plan was so divorced from reality that even the incumbent Archbishop of Jerusalem, when he heard about it, during their stay in Jerusalem, admonished them against the temerity of the act.

    All for naught.

    The promise of fabulous and supernatural wealth in the increasingly mythified land of Egypt incited the Crusaders against the Caliphate. By using the narrow humid corridor of the Mediterranean coast of the Sinai, they arrived in Tinnis, in the northeastern fringe of the Nile Delta, and put the city to siege, ignoring al-Farama before it because, after it was mostly abandoned by the Fatimids, the settlement became a ghost town.

    The capture of the city was easy enough, but their mistake was to take it before the Greeks arrived by sea, and this unexpected breach of the alliance compact infuriated the Basileus, whose diplomats were quick to chastise the German lords.

    This would, however, be the sole triumphal act of this disastrous enterprise. Encouraged by the victory, and disgusted by the perceived arrogance of the Basileus, they separated from his forces, now established in the northeastern Nile Delta, and ventured deep into the Nile valley. Their own internal disputes, however, ensured that this trek - apparently focused in capturing Cairo - was marred by complicated delays and inexplicable strategic decisions.

    Bizarrely enough, even if the records of this specific campaign are obscure and incomplete, there is some evidence that the Crusaders did reach near Cairo before they were intercepted by a large Fatimid army. We lack any details of the engagement whatsoever, but it is worth to note that one contemporary Frankish source for the first time mentions the term “marmaligus” - which seems a Latin phonetic translation for Mamluk, suggesting that they were mostly mostly comprised by Turkic soldiers.

    Considering that, soon thereafter, the Crusaders returned to Europe, and that were have some sparse commentary ascribing to the “perfidious Greeks” the blame for the overall failure of the expedition, we can infer that this defeat terminated the expedition once and for all, and gave another lease of life for the declining Caliphate. The Empire, indeed, made little effort to advance deep into Fatimid territory, and would later even surrender Tinnis back to the Caliphate - likely as a countermeasure against Frankish expansionism in the region.

    Even worse than the military failure was the political and diplomatic fallout of the Crusade. If the Komnenoi had hitherto been content with the status quo - specially because he had benefited from it when these mercurial allies provided a decisive assistance to allow the reconquest of Armenia - now the Franks would have to be more deserving of his goodwill and his assistance. The Basileus had not forgotten their unauthorized attack against Damascus, one that resulted in the annexation of Syria. Now, he was positive that they were unable to reduce Egypt without the Empire’s alliance and resources, and these would be, for the time being, not be wasted in assisting the Latins in another filibustering campaign.

    For these reasons, and also due to the fact that soon enough the Latin-Levantines would be plunged into their first dynastic war, the Fatimid Caliphate would be safe from another Christian offensive for a few more years.

    Back in Europe, the news about the defeat of the German Crusade were mostly obfuscated by the overall good news about the successes of the Christian coalition in Armenia and in Syria. The incumbent Pope, in a coup de grace, made every effort to exalt the dignity and prowess of *King Phillip II of France, in detriment of the [Holy Roman] Emperor, whose vassals had failed to produce a significant triumph for Christendom.


    *****​


    It has been almost half a century since the beginning of this chronicle, which narrates the principal events of the Crusadist Age. In the span of less than 50 years, the geopolitical panorama of the Near East has been entirely transformed.

    So far, we have seen that the most relevant Islamic polities in Syria were extinguished, incorporated either to the rapidly expanding Latin Principality or to the resurgent Empire of Rhōmania, all while the Turco-Persian Sultanate and the Egyptian Caliphate, experiencing terminal decline, are entering their twilight generation.

    From a macroscopic view, the annexation of Damascus, long coveted by the Latin Princes of the Outremer, as well as of Homs and Shaizar, fulfilled the ultimate objective of the Crusaders in Syria; and, indeed, the subjugation of Syria marked the final act of the consolidation of the Crusader State, ushering a new age of Christian domination in the Levant that had not been seen for centuries, ever since the Mahometan triumph in Yarmouk. If the taking of Jerusalem and the establishment of a “Frankish” dominion in Palestine had been regarded as a war of liberation, now we are seeing a new period of territorial conquest, but, even more than that, the penetration of Catholic European society into the hitherto Islamic-dominated Asian world. Even more than Rhōmania, whose privileged position at the crossroads between continents served it wealth and prestige, the Latin Principality opens another direct doorway across the Mediterranean linking two distinct and alien worlds. This intermingling of economies, religions, cultures, languages and social constructs will reshape the world in the centuries to come.

    Throughout the next decades, it is evident that the Latins put up a concerted effort to resurrect Damascus as the prime hub of Syria, but the blow it suffered by the loss of its immense population and the demolition of many of its buildings condemned it to a century of decline, before it is fated to see a genuine renaissance, from the 13th Century onwards. This circumstance would be certainly aggravated by the fact that the mere presence of the Latin Principality in the eastern Mediterranean would provoke a gradual distortion of the commercial and peregrination routes utilized by the Muslims, from Arabs to Persians alike, and would inaugurate a period of discrete economic recession in the region, that would only be remedied with the final conquest of Egypt by the Crusaders, between the 12th and 13th Centuries. One can wonder, beyond that, if the conquest of Egypt itself was, on one hand, only possible by the harnessing of the resources of Syria.

    Curiously enough, the fall of Damascus from grace, coupled with the also unexpected destruction of Aleppo by the will of God, permitted the growth of the main cities situated in the civilizational axis of the Orontes valley, notably Homs, whose apogee during the Crusader Era would see it rival even Antioch.

    It is all but evident to modern historiography that the survival and later expansion of the Crusader State was only possible due to the cooperation and alliance of Rhōmania. We have long abandoned the traditional spiritualist theories that ascribed the triumph of the Franks in the Outremer to the divine will, or to their peculiar valor or martial prowess. The truth is that, despite their impressive and outlandish successes, the Latin-Levantines had no especial or distinctive characteristics, from any standpoint, in regards to their many adversaries be it military, social, economic or cultural. While the western European battle tactics indeed warranted many victories against the Fatimids and the Turcomans, accustomed as they were with fighting against light and mobile troops, the Latins many times failed to address logistical, operational and manpower concerns. It has to be said that, it were not for the providential force injections produced by the various waves of soldiers, pilgrims and colonists from Europe, the Outremer was fated to a quick collapse, as it took a long time to incorporate and assimilate the subject native populations, Palestinians, Arabs and Syrians.

    Of course it is by the virtue of the alliance and active patronage of Constantinople that the Latins prospered in the Orient, not in the least by the fact that the presence of Rhōmaîon armies garrisoning the Syrian and Mesopotamian frontiers against the incursions of the Seljuqs prevented the Sultanate from unleashing an onslaught against Lebanon and western Syria.

    This, in turn, brings us to another point that explains the fruition and maturation of the Latin Principality: the chaotic disunity inside the Islamic Near East. We’ve devoted some chapters of this Chronicle to describe the state of utter mayhem that gradually fragmented the Sultanate of Persia, until its final dissolution in the late 12th Century, in which the Turkic lieutenants were ever more concerned with securing their own shares of the realm than in repealing the advance of the Christians, even as they – bafflingly – advanced through Jaziria and Mesopotamia.

    And this means we glossed over the various conflicts and feuds among the splintered Turkic beyliks of Armenia, whose fate was to be consumed by the expanding Rhōmania, by the nascent Christian Kingdom of Georgia, or by the ambitious Shirvanshahs of Azerbaijan. In Jaziria, the power vacuum will be exploited by a rising Turco-Kurdish slave named Burhan ad-Din as-Salām, founder of the Mamluk Emirate of Sinjar, a polity that, albeit minor in the grand scheme of Middle-Eastern geopolitics, will outlive many of its contemporary Islamic rivals.

    The decline and partition of the Seljuqs, even as their Sultans remained de jure the rulers of the whole commonwealth, rapidly degenerated into a period of warlordism and dynastic strife, that would last for decades, during the turn of the centuries. This age of strife and lawlessness would only see a conclusion by the 13th Century, with the rise of the Khwarezmians as the undisputed masters of the Indo-Iranian region.


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    Notes and comments: Yeah, I know that the bit about the German Crusade was very short and anticlimatic. That was on purpose. You see how insignificant it will be to the grand scheme of things, but when the time is come for Egypt to be conquered, it will be played out in much bigger detail. It also serves to demonstrate the overall fatigue of the local powers with the perpetual state of warfare in the region.
     
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    Interlude 4 (Part I) - About The Life in the Outremer - Economics
  • Already, folks, hello again! This chapter might be one of the longest (if not the longest one) so far. It clocks in something near 30.000 characters, and there are LOTS of information and tidbits, some minor spoilers and etc. Overall, its just a non-linear and non-narrative effort into worldbuilding. I've tried to divide it in sections to facilitate reading, but I imagine that there will be many details you guys will be interested in discussing.


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    INTERLUDE 4 - ABOUT THE LIFE IN THE OUTREMER (PART ONE) - ECONOMICS


    The Levantine economy in the 12th Century is, as are most of the pre-modern societies, predominantly agrarian, but with a substantial urban infrastructure, relatively more developed and populous, even in comparison to the Mediterranean polities. However, we can be certain that a very substantial fraction of the overall wealth and revenue produced in the Outremer comes from the urban settlements, mainly due to their role as a siphon of the Asiatic commerce into the Mediterranean basin, but also because of their well-developed industries, which only beginning to (re)develop in Europe, after the long period of decline after the downfall of the Carolingian monarchy.


    1.1. From the earth and from the sea


    image.jpg


    A Medieval Painting depicting a Biblical scene of the Exodus, where the Israelites are shown consuming the "heavenly" manna

    Canaan - the region corresponding to central Palestine - is famously known, in the Bible, as the land of mannah and honey. Palestine, even if comparably drier than the surrounding regions, experienced nonetheless a variety of seasons, from tepid and malaria-stricken summers, to drenching rains and frigid winters. Well-served by an ancient irrigation system, its agriculture is wholly dependent on small-scale gardener cultivation, with but a few plantations in the Jordan valley. While the population as a whole depended on the cultivation of traditional Mediterranean crops, such as wheat, barley, olives and grapes to sustain itself, the Franks - as the Arabs before them - greatly prized fruits such as date palms, figs and bananas and made efforts to grow these produces for both internal consumption and for the external markets. The most remarkable and favored one, however, was sugarcane, whose high value in the Asiatic and European markets meant its production was deserving of constant regulation by the Latin authorities. After the conquest of Egypt, indeed, the Franks would become de facto monopolists of sugar production in the eastern Mediterranean.

    Another important economic segment in many agrarian societies is the exploitation of animal resources, from which we can highlight some practices: (i) cattle raising, predominantly of bovines, sheep and swine (ii) animal husbandry, notably of horses and camels; and (iii) hunting. Even if shepherding has a special place in Judeo-Christian cultural worldview, being an activity often referenced in Biblical scripture, be it by association with historical characters, such as King David, or by allegory, when it identifies the Christians as the flock of God, its economic relevance is all but negligible in the Crusader Era. Money was to be found in the production of various other raw goods: meat and milk, wool, hide and fur, honey and wax, and so forth. In Syria, differently from Palestine, we still see, to this day, rudimentary corporations, usually centered in parochial villages, mediating the trade between individual producers and the urban hubs of Antioch, Aleppo and Damascus; this, however, was but a feeble vestige of the complex socio-economic structures that existed in the prosperous years of the Umayyads and of the Abbasids, severely disturbed by the collapse of the Caliphate.

    A Muslim chronicler from late 12th Century Baghdad famously described that the holy sites of al-Quds [Jerusalem], as well as the routes of pilgrimage used for the hajj were now infested with swine, a double entendre that likely referred to both actual pigs and Franks. Nonetheless, there is no evidence that the arrival of the Crusaders provoked an increase of pig-herding nor of pork consumption, for the simple reason that the Islamic authorities that used to rule the realm before them had never actually interfered in non-Muslim dietary practices. By the same token, these activities, regarded as basic fixtures of daily life, were submitted to few controls by the newly-established Latin authorities, with the exception of those seen as pertaining to nobiliar interests, such as milling, creation of horses and hunting, which were submitted to specific feudal obligations.

    Yet other aspect so fundamental to Levantine society, that also warranted several mentions in the Bible, is fishing, both riverine and maritime. The eastern Mediterranean in particular seemed particularly blessed by Neptunian plentiness ever since time immemorial, as the wealth of Phoenicia attested, and, in the centuries of the Crusader Era, the goods harnessed from the water bodies were still fundamental to the basic diet, from the rich to the poor. From fish to crustaceans, seafood forms a staple of Mediterranean cuisine, and, sometimes, we see some oddities such as dolphin skin and whale meat mentioned by contemporary authors as pertaining to the communal table of the wealthy merchants and noblemen. Other worthy mentions are given to the harvest of sea snails that produce the purple dye (Tyrian purple), so venerated by the ancient Romans, senators and emperors, and the extraction of corals from the reefs near Egypt and Cyprus, well-valued in the Syrian emporia.

    Finally, one essential production of Mediterranean societies is that of salt. For millennia, the sea littoral has seen the construction of various structures designed to harvest this infinite resource that whitens the blue water of the globe, and, like every other rulers before them, the Latins in the Outremer enforced their own policies to carefully regulate the production of salt. As most of the aforementioned economic activities, the menial and intensive labour dedicated to produce salt is ever performed by the submitted native Palestinians and Syrians, but the greatest profits of this commerce, heretofore reaped by the Arabic and Jewish merchants, now pertain mostly to the Italian and Provençal entrepreneurs, by the decree of the Latin Princes.

    02.png


    A 14th C. painting from Milan depicting two fishermen and a fantastic giant fish


    1.2. From the cities


    In general terms, it is correct to say that the manorial system peculiar to European feudal entities was imported by the Frankish equestrian caste to the Outremer, but it had to be adapted to suit the socioeconomic structures developed in the Near East. This means that a lord, in the countryside, holds a share of the land as an hereditary property, granted to him by the suzerain - or, as was the case of the veterans of the First Crusade, by the right of conquest - and the people who work the land are obliged to provide a share of their labor to sustain the “household”, including those employed by the lord, his knights and sergeants. This in contrast with the iqta system adopted by the Arabs, one in which the nobleman is entitled to a share of the wealth produced by the laborers, in pecunia, but does not possesses the land itself.

    In the cities, however, the dynamics of power and wealth distribution are markedly distinct, and more similar to the aforementioned tax-farming structures hitherto adopted by the Arabs. The Count of Tyre, as much as the Count of Acre, is deemed the lord protector of the subjects residing inside the limits of the walls, much like the King of England for London; however, one would be more likely to find his vassals living in a palace or mansion in Tyre than in a rural manor, this very much unlike the English barons. And to sustain their wealth, the suzerain will entitle the vassal not with a piece of the city itself, evidently, but rather with a share of the collected tributary and fiscal income. And, indeed, it was a very substantial portion of their wealth, likely larger than that of the agricultural income.

    While the income derived from the tributation of the urban activities by itself was large enough to justify detailed regulations by the Frankish lords - whose charters defined provisions for all sorts of activities, from smithing to shoemaking -, the one that incited their constant interest (and greed) was commerce. And a lot of attention is dispensed to ensure that the merchants bringing their goods, from either land or sea, are paying the lordly dues. The lordly retainers and sergeants are appointed officers of a cadre of agents dedicated to oversee the wharfs and gates, so that no wagon of Arabic insense, Ethiopian ivory or Cathayan [i.e. Chinese] silk, nor any shipment of French wine or Burgundian timber penetrates into the city without this very fact reverting in a payment to the lord. And the magnanimity of one magnate incurs in the loss of another one, because the merchants, knowing that the tolls in Acre are lesser than those of Beirut, will undoubtedly prefer the first instead of the latter.

    Predictably, the prevention of the nobiliar conflicts arising from this “fiscal war” will be a perpetual concern of the Latin Princes, and, later of the Kings of the Outremer, lest the nobles might shed their own blood out of a conflict fostered by “Mammon”.


    1.3. The guilds and the caravans


    A guild is a corporation of laborers dedicated to a certain craft, an hierarchical and rule-bound structure of compulsory adhesion. More than simply a code of conduct, the statute of the guild is a norm. And just as a fish cannot swim without being immersed in water, so a craftsman cannot develop his industry without being integrated into the guild.

    The lord, being the suzerain, has the right to exact tribute and impose certain obligations over the lowborn caste, but, unless he is a tyrant, he will be well aware of the complexities of the different strata, and preserve the distinctive treatment owed to each of them. The serf is bound to the land, but the yeomen and free tenants are not, and they are all too different from the artisans and craftsmen, whose skills make the fruit of their labor more valuable, because they are unique. And the lord knows, after all, that he cannot interfere or attempt to control the corporations, because they are bound to their own order, much like the monks are bound to their monastic congregation, and not to his household or his vassalage, as are the sergeants and the knights.


    04.png


    Painting depicting a parchment producer (c. 14th C.). Owing to the demand for parchment to sustain the Outremerine bureaucracy, this production rose to proeminence in the Levant during the 12th Century, and this led to the formation of a guild in Jerusalem


    For a long period of the Crusader Era, the venues of maritime trade were de facto monopolized by the Italian city-republics, with the prime agents of the flow of goods from the Orient being Venice and Genoa. Later on, we see a greater presence of other groups, notably the Provençals from Montpellier, the Ragusans, the Iberian Galicians and even the Flemish, who will arrive to exploit the profitable Egyptian markets. And everyone of these peoples are benefited by different lords of the Outremer according to the respective political interests, usually with the grant of special rights of private districts and self-applied laws and customs.

    If the maritime commerce is dominated by the Europeans, the same cannot be said about the land one, which is still a domain of the Jews, the Syrians, the Arabs, and the Persians because they harness the routes of Asia. Travels in these are dangerous ones, for every merchant can be easy prey to a dedicated band of Turcoman raiders, Bedouin bandits or Yemeni pirates, unless he is joined in a caravan, and, even so, he ought to sacrifice some coins to be worth the protection of sellswords. Some of these even became the stuff of popular legends in Arabia and in Persia, and a common motif is that of the noble mercenary - usually an exiled noble - who vows to protect pilgrims in the way to Mecca and is assaulted by impious cross-bearing barbarians, only to find out that the caravan is transporting a princess, to whom he will marry.

    And the various caravans, whether they dialogue in Arab, in Persian, or even in Hindi, all come to Cairo, Damascus or Aleppo, and from there to Acre, Beirut and Antioch, among others, and so the wealth cycles from the four corners of the Earth in one season, only to begin anew in the next one.


    1.4. The Arteries and Veins of Commerce

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    Detail of an illustration inside of a Medieval "Peryplus" depicting a caravan of merchants in a venue of the Silk Road (c. 13th C.A.D.)

    The heart of Asia pumps the flow of commerce across the four corners of the continent, much like the heart of man movements the humors to every of its flesh crevices. Silk, jade and other precious stones, porcelain and teas flow from the bountiful realms of Serica and Mangi [i.e. Manzi/Southern China] into Transoxiana, and from there it spreads northwards to the steppe of Cumania, westwards to the riverlands of Babilonia and southwards to the realm of Ghor, all of these that once were mere provinces in the universal kingdom of Alexander the Great.

    From India Magna [i.e. Indian Subcontinent] comes the spices and saffron, the medicines and the colored woods, but these more often than not come by the venues of the ocean, because the realms of the Indians are bordered by insurmountable mountains and unforgiving deadlands. These ships go by the way of Hormuz or around Arabia into the Red Sea, and are avidly procured by the viziers of the Sultan of Persia and by the camel-lords of Oman and Yemen before they can be conducted to the Mediterranean littoral, but here the routes are acresced of incense, camels, dyes and sugar.

    And from the distant realms of Abyssinia [i.e. modern Ethiopia] and Azania [i.e. Horn of Africa region] the Franks also fortunate to receive so much as they are awarded from Asia; of ivory, exotic furs and hides, incense, gems and even live animals, many of which will adorn the menageries of the crowned princes, from striped horses to bald black lions, and unicorn-bulls.

    All of these goods flow into the Mediterranean, as aforementioned, and by this virtue the masters of the Levant were fated to be the benefactors of the flow of commerce, considering that it is by the ports of Palestine, Phoenicia and Syria that these riches will be transshipped to Italy, Iberia, Francia and beyond. Once the Crusaders made themselves the masters of the realm of Egypt, they finally welded the conduit between the profitable “Erythreian” venue and the Mediterranean one and the collected wealth inaugurated a new age of material development for Europe as a whole, even as much as the Silk Road continues to be submitted to the monopoly of the Persian commonwealth.


    1.5. Money in itself


    Until the Crusader Era, the circulation of gold coinage was rare in Latin Europe. Barring what could be harvested from Transylvanian and Bohemian mines or the Rhenish alluvium, most of it had to be imported from the Moorish caliphates, which, in turn, acquired precious metals from the distant kingdoms of Ghana, of Nigritica and Farosiana [i.e. Nigritai and Pharusii, refers to Songhay/Mali] and of Benichileba [i.e. “Bnichilebs”, ITTL refers to the Fulani], inhabited by coal-skinned giants and dog-headed barbarians.

    European gold, in general, was “recycled” from what was already in circulation, as it was common for it to be reforged from centuries-old pieces of treasure and similar devices. It is said that the Avar hoard plundered by Charlemagne some three centuries before the Crusades was the one destined to finance Duke Godfrey’s Lorrainer army, coming from the Archbishopric of Aachen, whose gold pieces had been gifted by the greatest scion of the Carolingian dynasty.

    To be fair, precisely because it was comparatively rare, there was never a substantial demand for gold before the Crusader Era; it could really only be acquired by crowned aristocrats and ecclesiastic institutions, and it was not commonly used as a medium of exchange. Silver, in contrast, was produced continuously through the Middle Ages in Europe, and even exported from there. It was mainly extracted from Sardinia (11th-12th C.), Franconia (10th-12th C.), Saxony (12th - 14th C.) and Bohemia, the latter which supplied silver in great quantities to the occidental markets for centuries. While gold was commonly used for ornamental purposes, silver’s main function was exactly to furnish material for the production of coinage, and thus it was more usual to be seen circulating as money than as a decoration.

    *****​

    Currencies - then wholly dependent on the exchange of metal, as paper money was unheard of, barring one or another regional oddities such as in Prague - were generally based around the copper (sometimes bronze) billon and the more valuable (silver) denarius (later: Denier or Denario) thus named by the Carolingians in an attempt to emulate the ancient Roman coinage paradigms.

    In Europe, Rhōmania alone had a complex currency that orbited around gold coinage, descended from the ancient Roman (gold) solidus, and which for centuries until the 11th one had been a standard of international commerce, owing to its substantial fineness, until its abrupt debasement by Imperial fiat. Yet another applause that must be bestowed to the the terrific Komnenoi because they restored prestige to the gold currency in the form of the hyperpyron. To understand its influence, one must see that two words to refer to gold coinage that will be elsewhere in the continent for some centuries to come - “besant” and “perpera” - are related to “Byzantium” and to the Greek name of the currency, respectively. There were, of course, other currencies such as the silver “aspron” and the copper “tetarteton” (one which, before Alexios I Komnenos, referred to a type of gold currency), but outside of the Empire, none of these were as popular as the gold coinage.

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    Depiction of an hyperpyron of the reign of Basileus John II Komnenos

    In the Arabic world, including al-Andalus and the Maghreb, the gold standard was in force too, and, oddly enough, the name for the gold coin, dinar, derived from the Roman name for the silver coins, the aforementioned denarius.

    Now, this explained, we must repeat that the, in the Crusader State, urban economy had a strong numismatic element, and, unlike in other polities in Europe, the central government, even in the earlier moments of its political consolidation, made an effort to control and develop coinage production, to make it less dependent in the acquisition of Rhōmaiōn or Saracen gold - even if these were free to circulate. Thus, while in Europe it was acceptable for counts and barons, as well as bishops, to struck coins, without any sort of royal oversight (even if a common motif for coins was the depiction of the monarch’s effigy), and this from Castille to Poland, in the Levant, the Archiepiscopalian Office from a very early date evoked the powers to determine the minting of coins in Jerusalem. Nobles were not actually forbidden to do so, but it seems that, for a long time, they consolidated a customary consensus around the notion that the coins had to be produced by the Jerusalemite mint, and were more content with simply imposing tolls over monetary circulation than actively participating in production. This centralization of the currency making would become the norm throughout all the existence of the Crusader State in the Orient, unlike what would later happen in the Latin Kingdom of Egypt, where coinage minting would be devolved to provincial level for many other decades before being centralized in Damietta.


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    Depiction of the templimi or Frankish besants (c. 13th C.A.D.). Cross motifs, as one can imagine, were in vogue for most of its period, in association of the central symbolic element of the Crusader ideology


    If in its first century, the Latin-Levantine currency could not be regarded as anything better than a vulgar imitation of the Saracen and Rhōmaiōn numismatics, by the middle of the 13th Century, it was developed enough to circulate as an autonomous and particularly valuable trade due to its purity in comparison to its European counterparts. Its gold standard was mostly on the hyperpyron, commonly called Frankish besant (bezanti francorum) or “templimi”, because the mint was established near the Temple of Solomon. Its earlier production showed a preference for varied religious iconography, from crosses and fishes to lions and angels, but later on, as it became standardized, depictions shift to consistent patterns, such as an abstract representation of a river sided by date palms, representing the Jordan or perhaps the Garden of Eden, and the symbol of the true cross. It is worth mentioning that royal effigies are very rarely used in Jerusalemite coinage, in all its centuries, a bizarre similitude with Islamic traditions in detriment of what was more usual in Christian polities.

    The silver coinage was called denario, another one based in the denarius, and, perhaps because it was less valuable and the metal itself was more readily available, it experienced a greater production and exchange than that of gold currency. The most common one, however, was the bronze "papalesco", thus named because in its early years it served to homage Pope Urban II, and was frequently used in commercial intercourse, notably between the Italian republics and the Levantine emporia.

    Now, as mentioned previously, considering that gold exchange was mostly dependent on the Moorish intermediaries in the trans-saharan commerce, it would take until the late 13th Century, with the consolidation of the Crusader Kingdom of Egypt, for alternative trade routes to be solidified the links between Europe and Ultragetulia and western Ethiopia [OBS: Ethiopia here is referencing the Sahel region as a whole, and not the modern country, which will be referred as Abyssinia in this time frame].

    *****​

    The consolidation of the monastic militarized orders and of the trading guilds in the Levant quickly led to the development of the first forms of paper currencies of the Medieval Occident, in a similar fashion to what had already happened in Imperial Cathay some centuries before.

    In the case of the Templarians, most certainly inspired by earlier developments by the Venetians and other trade-venturing agencies, we see, as early as the 1180s one of the first evidences of the adoption of a rudimentary banking system. This worked by employing a deposit/draft mechanism: one could place his liquid assets in the custody of a chapter of these institutions, and then obtain a similar value in other place, all of this controlled by a “letter of good-faith” [i.e. a credit document]. It was a matter of time before this system became complex by the establishment of a series of provincial houses, most notably in Provence, in Burgundy and in Italy. By the late 13th Century, their wealth had grown so much that it put the orders in conflict with ecclesiastic and monastic institutions, and in 1273 A.D. the incumbent Pope summoned a council to discipline aspects related to the dispensation of largess by the sword orders. This, in spite of imposing a sort of regulation, did not prevent them from doing so - not in the least because the Papacy itself was the main beneficiary of the stipends paid by the Templarian overmasters, and this, for a long time, would prevent them from being afflicted by the will of crowned heads and epicoscopalian entities alike.

    Last, but not least, a word about the credit titling system developed by the Venetians. It was most certainly not created by them, as there is evidence about the use of contractual negotiable instruments in other commercial polities before, but it were certainly the Venetians that perfected it by employing a sophisticated regulation and even devising incentives for individuals to act as intermediaries as “micro-banks”, thus pulverizing the use of credit and hard money. This because, unlike other feudal and republican rulers, the Doges of Venice frequently interfered in the private circulation of credit and in contractual activities by imposing statutes, which usually were conducted by the guilds. If the mercantile guilds at first frowned upon the State’s interference, they soon realized its benefits when it became clear that the Republic itself would guarantee the fulfillment of their contracts and instruments, even against foreign contractors.

    Unlike many of the other political entities in the Mediterranean, the “Serene Republic” had the military strength and will to enforce their own laws and contracts, and this they often did in Alpine and Sicilian Italy, even across the sea, in their colonies and client states such as Ragusa and Zara. Ancona, for example, would learn this in the worst way in 1288, when the Republic of Venice declared war on her to demand the fulfillment of contracts defaulted by Anconitan debtors against a firm of four Venetian citizens. The price to pay was a heavy one: the Venetian armada destroyed that of Ancona and stormed the city, plundering it with such a violence that the Pope himself issued a formal protest threatening the Doge with excommunication. Fortunately for the Venetians, the question was solved by a hefty donation to the Holy See.

    The trustworthiness of Venetian credit instruments was proverbial, so much that one would say that it was easier to break a castle wall than a contract signed under the banner of the winged lion. Not unlike what used to happen in ancient Rome, there was a bizarre superstition and ceremonial element in contract-binding in Venetian (and, by extension, in Franco-Levantine) entrepreneurial culture, because all contracts had a preamble entrusting the fulfilment of its clauses to the protection of the saints. Even more curiously, there were various forms to “bypass” the eccleasiastic prohibition of usury, by simplory expedients such as using specific terminology that avoided mentioning “interest” and more peculiar ones such as inserting in the contract a clause obliging both parties to pay a fraction of their wealth to the Church to guard it from the devils that infested the human soul with greed…


    1.6. By the hand of Man


    After the establishment of the Latin Principality of Jerusalem, it did not took long for the arriving European settlers to assimilate into the Levantine economic arena, with its own peculiar crafts and industries. If it is correct to say that the Oriental hand-work practices were in some ways more sophisticated than those of the contemporary Europeans, one can not ignore the fact that the latter had some of their own to contribute and, even more than that, that they quick learned how to endeavor in these “foreign” professions.

    Regarding basic crafts, the most noteworthy mentions go to the development of various Frankish textile establishments, as it happened in the city of Jerusalem itself, and also in Tyre and Beirut. While it was a norm, in Europe, to have separate agencies dedicated to various processes involved in the creation of clothing, like dyeing, tanning, weaving, and so forth, in the Levant, these were usually concentrated in the same establishment, and, with time, they became large enough to create their own regional guilds. The most notable example was that of Damascus, where one could find, in these years, a bustling district saturated with fabric workshops.

    Regarding textiles, the most significant craftsmanship was tapestry, because it was particularly lucrative; in the course of the 12th to 14th Centuries, the acquisition of fine clothing and carpets became a fixture of the European elites, from Leon to Krakow, usually under the umbrella-term of “Saracen cloth”.

    Even if the Syrians, Arabs and Egyptians were quick to belittle the Latin industriousness, believing their own work to be much superior to that of these barbarians, the truth was that the Franks did have their own areas of expertise. Two of these were woodwork and masonry, most notably in the construction of fortresses and cathedrals, with few parallels in the Islamic world when we compare the complexity and durability of the structures. Harnessing the plentiful cedar forests of Lebanon and the dependable quarries of Palestine and Syria, the Franks endeavored into a multitude of projects, from military to civilian and religious purposes. While one could suppose that aristocrats would impose these sorts of buildings, it is worth noting that the operations, in many places, especially in provincial parishes, were executed as a communitarian affair, in which whole families joined into an association to undertake a project, commonly furnished by donations in kind to sustain their efforts.

    One of the most prized industries of the Orient, which exploded in popularity during the Crusader Age, was glassmaking. The demand for it was always high in Europe, be it to create stained glasses in temples, or utensils such as vials for perfume and substances and culinary vessels, and even artistic sculptures, like the enameled black-glass lion gifted to King Thomas I of England by a certain Latin-Levantine monarch in 1193 A.D., which to this day survives in the Palace of London. And the supply of raw materials in the Levant is particularly significant; in fact, the preferred site for the extraction of sand to produce glass by the ancient Romans was precisely in a beach near Acre, where sand is naturally mixed with lyme. The main foundries would be established by the Latins in Tyre and Caesarea for the production of raw glass, one that can be acquired by other specialized craftsmen to devise their own personal compositions, most notably in Homs.

    b7850598a9b3f33286e006ee6e809d35


    Depiction of a enameled glass chalice of Outremerine confection (c. 13th C.A.D.)

    A similar fashion was developed in contemplation of ceramics, and the growth of economic institutions in the Near East coincided with a mass-production increase of pottery, both for the domestic and international markets. Much like glassware, pottery can either be fashioned for utility or for ornamentation, and there are plenty of contemporary examples.

    Finally, one can not ignore the role of metal-making in the Franco-Levantine economic culture. As in Europe and in every other place of the world, metals are transformed and alloys forged for a multitude of purposes that defy any necessity of listing. However, one single aspect, so peculiar to the Asian craftsmanship, is very deserving of a mention, that is, the forging of “Iosuean steel” - thus named in reference to the Biblical figure Joshua, widely venerated as a pre-Christian hero in the Medieval Era; folklore of the 13th Century ascribed to him a legendary magic sword -, a fixture of the Damascene industry. It was, then, a priceless specialty of the heartland of Syria, made from steel imported from India and forged by the foundries of Damascus into fine blades with bizarre, wave-like carvings.
     
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    Interlude 4 (Part II) - Religion
  • INTERLUDE 4 (PART II) - ABOUT RELIGION


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    Medieval Illumination depicting the scene of the "Annunciation of Christ by the Angel Gabriel", in one of the folios of the Armenian Gospel of 1285 A.D., commissioned by an Armenian nobleman living in Damascus. It is a peculiar blend of Rhomaion, Armenian and Latin artistic styles, which demonstrates the multicultural influences of the Outremerine elite

    As in many other contemporary societies, the Outremer, for most of its history, saw patterns of social, cultural and religious stratification, which evidently blended with various aspects such as language, social positions and roles, ethnic distinctions and political contingencies. This fact, in itself, was not peculiar to the Latin Levant, considering that it was also present in various Near-Eastern Islamic societies, such as the Fatimid Caliphate and Seljuq Mesopotamia, Iraq and Persia, all of which had significant Christian and Jewish populations under Muslim suzerainty, the same for al-Andalus, all while other Christian polities had to discipline Muslim minorities, such as in the Norman dominions of Sicily and Africa, or in Scandinavia or the Baltic region, in relation to the pagan communities. The peculiarity of the Latin Outremer might be actually related to the quantity and complexity of such subjective networks than to its quality, considering that, in this rather diminutive territory, there were various ethnoreligious identities, now enraptured by an alien political and cultural regime.

    It is worth noting that, unlike what one could suppose, the main distinction premise was not one segregating Christians from Muslims and Jews, but rather between Roman Catholic Franks - and this is why they were, after all, usually called “Latins”, owing to the Roman Latin Rite - and other Christians and then non-Christians. From a legal standpoint, the “Latins”, albeit heterogeneous in ethnicity and social roles - one should ever separate a Provençal from a Bavarian, a Lorrainer from an Englishman, and a Fleming from a Lombard, and so forth - were all recognized as part of a same category owing to their same religious affiliation and rather similar cultural and behavorial patterns, and this made them distinct from the other entities, usually labelled as “Greeks'' or “Syrians”. Muslims and other indigenous denominations such as the Samaritans, in legal texts, are ignored altogether and agglomerated in the category of “Saracens”, barring the specific case of the Turks, which are usually recognized by their own ethnic and aesthetic peculiarities.

    In the global context of the social fabric and continuum of everyday relations and interchanges, however, the reality of the Outremerine individualized categories was far more complex, and involved, as mentioned previously, various political, economic and customary contingencies. The relations between the Latins and the Greeks, for example, evolved according to Constantinople’s political stance towards the Outremer, while those with the Armenians were seen as part of efforts to maintain a balance between other less amiable indigenous entities such as the Syrians. The “Saracens”, on the other hand, hitherto established atop the social ladder, now saw themselves disputing influence and identity against other categories, in a context marred by the long-standing Sunni and Shiite factionalism.

    In this instance, it is our objective to analyze some of the religious-based relationships between the Outremerine social categories.


    2.1. Religious demographics

    It is impossible to find a perfect number that describes in absolutes the populations according to their religious affiliations, in any Medieval society, and the Outremer is no different. For centuries, we have academic arguments that describe proportions and gross estimates, extrapolating them from first-hand records, comparatives with better known places, but, as a rule, we lack enough data to define an accurate picture.

    Far from being a consensus, there is nonetheless an understanding that, unlike what prevailed in popular conscience, Muslims were not a definitive quantitative majority ruling over patches of marginalized Christian and Jewish communities. In fact, ever since Antiquity, there were very populous Christian entities, whose political relevance, however, never surpassed provincial level, with a number of Islamic peoples.

    There is a strong argument that claims that Muslims never actually became a numerical majority in neither the Levant, Anatolia and Armenia, nor even in Egypt, unlike what happened in Arabia, in Persia and in in the Maghreb. This can be explained by three historical factors: (1) for many centuries, the Arabs considered Islam a more prestigious and righteous religion, and, for the natives in Syria and Palestine, it was seen as an elitist and aristocratic faith; it happened that many formerly Roman aristocrats converted to rapidly climb the social ladder, and this made the Arabs all too cautious about conversions, as they believed it must be genuine to incur in Allah’s grace; (2) the dhimmi were tax-payers, and thus many of the more pragmatic Arab rulers had no incentive to force-convert their subjects, lest they would diminish their financial base; (3) after Islam splintered in varios branches, over the course of the 9th and 10th Centuries, their objetive became centered in weakening the opposite denominations rather than converting Christians and Jews, who were seen as lesser significant pieces in this political chess.

    There is strong evidence that conversions to Islam in the Levant were slow and gradual since the initial Arab conquests, but reached their peak during the Abbasid period, because, in this period, the Mediterranean littoral as a whole became the periphery of this empire centered in Iraq, and thus many natives saw it necessary to convert to access social and economic privileges. In opposition, this strengthened the resolve of other more traditional Christian communities in retaining their own confessional autonomy, especially in the urban centers. It is worth noting that political and social events had potential to affect religious demographics - for example, the political resurgence of Rhōmanía in Oriental geopolitics - and this pattern will also be applicable to the Crusader State throughout its centuries of existence.


    2.2. Latins and Greeks

    In the formative years of the Outremer as a political entity, the concept of “Frank” was intrinsically related to that of an adept of Roman Catholic Christianity, and this merged with the association with Europeans as a whole, and this in spite of whatever cultural peculiarities and even theological preferences of one or another individuals. This meant that an Irishman would be seen, at least in these first decades of the Crusader State’s existence, as pertaining to the same class as an Italian, and a Norwegian, the same as a Provençal. It is true, though, that in time these categories would become more nuanced, most notably once we see patterns of cultural appropriation and later assimilation by the Europeans in the Levant.

    It was central to the doctrine of Roman Catholicism the premise of a paramountcy of the Roman Papacy over other sees, including the ancient Patriarchies such as that of Antioch and Alexandria. It is obvious that there were very real political concerns and contingencies that defined the relation between the Latin Europeans and the Papacy - the best example being that of the Germans affiliated to the interests of the [Holy] Roman Emperor, but also that of the Venetians and Sicilians, among many others, who would, in time, pursue their own political agendas in spite of the Holy See’s interests - but, from a theological and institutional standpoint, the legitimacy of the Pope as head of Christendom was unquestionable, and that he ought to be the ultimate arbiter of temporal and spiritual matters. This doctrine, evidently, was not accepted by the Rhōmaîoi nor by the Syriacs, Georgians, Armenians and Copts, among other Christian denominations from outside Catholicism, who saw the Pope merely as the "Patriarch of Rome".

    To be fair, there were various behavioral, linguistic and appearance aspects that made a “Frank” distinguishable from native individuals and from other ethnic categories even before one could see another one practicing any creed. From phenotypical and indumentary traits to basic daily behaviors, it was possible to see if one was Frank or not, and this was, in the first decades of the Outremer, marked by a perception of “foreignness” - usually associated with common cultural stereotypes, of Franks being uncouth barbarians, of Saracens being treacherous and venal individuals, of Syrians being effeminate and unwarlike - which, in time, waters down, but never vanishes entirely.


    ******​


    Greek Orthodoxy, as mentioned many times, plays a large role in the Levantine history, even before the foundation of the Crusader State. In spite of the fact that it was not, in quantitative terms, the largest Christian denomination of Palestine, Lebanon and most of Syria barring its northern provinces - in this, they pale in comparison to the Syriacs and Armenians -, in qualitative terms, the “Greeks” form a particularly privileged class among the Christians, owing to the prestige clout that harbors from the Empire.

    During all the long centuries after the meteoric rise of the Umayyad Caliphate, the Rhōmaîon Emperors were ever mindful of their role and duty as protector of the Greek Orthodox communities in the Near East, regardless of political barriers and concerns. This, in fact, explains why the Komnenoi showed much more goodwill towards the Fatimids, who, in their brief tenure as masters of the Levant, were respectful of the autonomy of their Greek subjects, than towards the Seljuqs and other Turkic princes, whose rapacity made them ignorant of diplomatic solicitude.

    The Latins, even as their façade as vassals of the Empire gradually waned, never impaired the autonomy of the Greek communities in the Crusader State. The Rhōmaîoi population experienced a very significant fluctuation in this period, because many of these arrived, notably from Greece and Cyprus, and came to inhabit in the Levantine emporia as entrepreneurs and craftsmen, but many others that hitherto lived in Palestine and western Syria rapidly abandoned it to find a new life in Antioch, in Aleppo or, later, in Edessa and Armenia, after the Second Crusade. Curiously, this meant that while ethnic Rhōmaîoi became a quantitative less significant minority among the Christians, notably in comparison to Armenians and Syriacs (whose numbers increased in inverse proportion through the decades), they remained politically privileged as a category for as long as the geopolitical fortunes of Rhōmanía turned for the better.

    In what concerns religion, the modus vivendi established by the Latins resulted in the recognition of the legitimacy of local Greek Orthodox prelates inside the Outremer in relation to Frankish authorities, including as communitarian leaders and intermediaries in the political proceedings with Latin feudal lords. Politically, there was a consistent alignment to the interests and pretenses of Constantinople - this, again, regardless of political borders -, and the recognition of a diplomatic continuum between the Greek ecclesiastic authorities and the Constantinopolitan court; interference by the Frankish authorities is unheard of for centuries.

    The case of the Greek Patriarchate of Jerusalem can be used to explain the complexities of the sociopolitical and ethnoreligious nuances of Levantine society. Before the colonization of the Outremer by the Latins, the paramount Christian authority in Jerusalem, representing the local Greek communities, was the Patriarch of Jerusalem. During the First Crusade, the incumbent prelate was Simeon II, who, after being forced into exile by the Artuqids, during their brief rule of Palestine, was restored by the Crusaders, according to the will of Basileus Alexios I Komnenos.

    Afterwards, once the Roman Catholic Archbishopric of Jerusalem was established, the ruling Frankish noblemen and clergymen would simply ignore the pretenses of the Greek Patriarch - whose role became increasingly restricted to attending the confessional demands of the dwindling Levantine Rhōmaîoi population. To this, however, the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople - ever envious of both the autocephalous primacies and of the Pope himself, and longing the age of Constantinopolitan political hegemony - responded with indifference, while more attentive Komnenoi Emperors, such as Alexios I and John I, would constantly wield diplomatic influence to elevate the standing of the Jerusalemite Patriarch in Levantine society, all while being unable, however, to actually enforce their policies. This peculiar status quo demonstrated the ambivalent relations between the Crusaders and the court of Constantinople.


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    Medieval illumination depicting Biblical scenes, from the Hierosolimitanum Regum Psalter (later 13th C.)


    2.3. Syriacs (Surians)

    The umbrella term Syriac Christianity (often Latinized “Suriania” from “Mšiḥāyuṯā Suryāyṯā”) is used to refer to all the congregations that officially adopt the Syriac language, and, in this, is compared to its Latin and Greek counterparts in the sense that it does not necessarily express, by itself, any liturgical or institutional particularities. Of all the languages of liturgical relevance, it is one of historical significance because it descended and is related to the contemporary language of Jesus Christ, Aramaic. In time, Syriacs living in the Crusader State will be known as “Surians” to distinguish them from Arabs and Turks.

    By the time of the Crusades, there were in the Orient three main branches of Syriac Christianity, each of which denominated themselves as autonomous Churches: (1) the autocephalous Antiochene one, also referred to as “Jacobite” after Saint Jacob Baradaeus; (2) the Melkite one, actually affiliated to Constantinople; (3) and the Maronite one, which supposedly embraced “Monothelitism”.

    The Jacobite Church, by its virtue as a non-Chalcedonian denomination, rejected any sort of communion with the Ecumenical Orthodoxy, and formed an autocephalous entity centered in Islamic-ruled Antioch. For centuries after the Rashidun conquests, the political estrangement already existent between Constantinople and Syria only grew, deeply rooted in cultural provincialism as it was. To be fair, this owed nothing to the interference of the Arabic Caliphates, but rather to historical dissensions with various cultural, linguistic and theological flavors. Thus, over the course of the centuries, the Jacobite Church became, par excellence, the Church of Syria, representing the ethnocultural identity of the Syrians as a political category in contrast to Greeks and Muslims, a phenomenon also observed with the Armenians under Rhōmaîon rule and with the Copts in Egypt. None of this changed, at first, after the First Crusade, in spite of the restoration of the [Greek] Orthodox Patriarchate in Antioch, because Alexios I had no intention of alienating the recently reincorporated Syrian subjects by antagonizing their native Church. However, we will see that, in time, the Jacobites will gradually lose their influence in western Syria, because the native Syrian elites will become increasingly dependent on the patronage and favor bestowed by Constantinople.

    Now, the Melkites/Melchites are, on the other hand, are the historical Syriac congregations that embraced Chalcedonianism (thus explaining their name, which literally means “king’s men”, after the Roman Emperor), and thus they had no geographic uniformity, but were centered in Antioch and in Jerusalem, and held presence in other provinces of the Levant. From a theological point of view, it is correct to say that they are in full communion of rites with the Rhōmaîon Orthodoxy, but, while the Jerusalemite Syriac Church remained using Greek language in liturgy for centuries, even after Islamic conquest, the Antiochene one became more inclined to use native Syriac, with significant Arabic blends, a development that stimulated the formation of a peculiar proto-nationalist Syrian conscience. Another aspect that demonstrates the nuanced and complex relationships between religion and culture, is the fact that even if the Melkites adopted the premises of the Council of Chalcedon, they remained, throughout all these centuries, mindful of their own provincial interests and agendas, and because of this they always demanded the presence of a consecrated Patriarch in Antioch - who, in the context of the Ecumenical Orthodoxy, is recognized as an equal to that of Constantinople. Once again, in time, these circumstances changed to see the imposition of a Constantinopolitan political and theological hegemony in northern Syria, but, in the formative moments of the Crusader State, the Komnenoi adopted more conciliatory policies.

    Finally, we have the case of the Maronites, another ethnoreligious group with historical roots in the Levant. They attribute their origin to St. Maron, who, in the 4th C., was responsible for the conversion of the Roman citizens living in the administrative province Phoenicia to Christianity. Before the rise of Islam, their population grew and reduced around the region of the Orontes valley and coastal Syria, and their distinction was marked by the use of Syriac/Aramaic as liturgical and common language, in detriment of Greek or Arab. They faced persecutions by the Jacobites, and, later, by the Muslims, and their numbers all but diminished over the course of the centuries. By the eve of the First Crusade, they were geographically confined to the region of Mount Lebanon. The Maronites, being an oppressed minority, welcomed the Frankish suzerainty, all while the Franks themselves (notably the Normans), recognizing the utility of promoting the Maronites to counterbalance Islamic and Druze populations in Phoenicia, allowed them particular privileges, even as second-class subjects. In any case, history shows that the Maronites were among the most benefited minorities throughout the centuries of the Crusader regime, and this explains why their population grew significantly, and why they quickly accepted full communion with the Roman Catholic Church, in the early 14th C.

    All of these revolutions in the expansion of Rhōmanía and of the Outremer will result in a gradual degradation of the Syriac Jacobite communities, whose fall from grace will allow the strengthening of the Orthodox Melkites in Syria and of the Maronites in Lebanon, a scenario that, coupled with the substantial migration of Armenian communities to the Levant and with the reduction of Islamic populations, will effectively “invert” the ethnoreligious demographic balance of the region.


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    Illumination depicting the Biblical scene of the "Last Supper" in a Syriac Bible written in Antioch (c. 14th C.)


    2.4. Armenians

    The Armenian Apostolic Church splintered with the Catholic and Orthodox denominations in 554 A.D., when it rejected the Chalcedonian dyaphysite formula - which recognized the double nature of Jesus Christ, as human and divine - and adhered to the idea of a united divine and human nature, which resulted in the nomenclature “miaphysitism” to describe it, in contrast to “monophysitism”.

    The Armenian ecclesiastic institution, much like that of Georgians, of the Copts and others, amalgamated the Armenians around a single cultural and religious premise, and this served to preserve their idea of a “nation” after the Seljuq invasions resulted into the collapse of their government and in the disappearance of Royal Armenia as a political entity, and provoked a diaspora through the Levant. The experiment of “Cilician Armenia” would be short-lived, because Constantinople, once it regained power under the first Komnenoi, had little tolerance for independent princes in its own former provinces. Thus, resentful of the negligence and truculence of the Rhōmaîon Empire, many Armenians saw the Crusades as an opportunity for advancement in a seemingly lawless frontier. This is why they welcomed the Lorrainers in Edessa, and, much later, hundreds of them, mostly families of peasants and laborers, migrated in various waves into the Crusader State. Their communities were initially established in Palestine, notably in Galilee, by the influence of the Frankish House of Boulogne; later they came to find new abodes in Syria, notably in the fertile countries of Damascus and Homs, and even founded new cities. New migratory waves would happen after the Crusader conquest of Egypt, in the late 12th C., whereupon we will be seeing colonization efforts as far as the southern Red Sea coast.

    It was not unheard of Armenians converting to Catholicism and some communities adopting Latin, but most of them seemed to retain their traditional rites and liturgy for centuries. The Levantine Armenians, however, due to the proximity with the Latins, quickly integrated the Roman Catholic cultural and religious sphere, and the apogee of this symbiotic relationship can be marked by the fact that these groups came to enter full communion with the Holy See, in the Council of Ravenna of 1387 A.D.


    2.5. Islamic peoples

    The term “Saracen” derives from Latin Saraceni and Greek Sarakēnoí, and, in spite of seeing various usages in Antiquity, it became a exonym applied to Muslims as a whole during the Medieval age. To contemporary scholars, deriving from the writings of St. Jerome, the name originated from the Biblical tale of Abraham, because the Arabs wanted to be associated with his free wife Sarah, and not to Hagar, his slave wife, so as to distance themselves from their impious origin.

    In particular, when used in context, the term “Saracen” usually referred to ethnic Arabs (all speakers of Arab languages, including Bedouins, Egyptians, Yemeni, etc.) - oddly enough, the term Arab was seldom used, and even more poetic denominations such as Ishmaelites were prefered.

    Turks were commonly referred as a separate category (Turcomani, rarely Scythians), and, indeed, they were very distinct in physical appearance, language, clothing and mores in comparison to indigenous Arabic-influenced peoples of the Levant or to the Saracens proper. This was helped by the fact that, in spite of the Seljuq conquest of the Levant, few Turkmen remained inhabiting the region, and became more well established in Armenia, Mesopotamia and Persia. Turks were ever seen as outsiders, even those who had converted to Christianity and served as mercenaries (“Turcopoles”) - and, it is worth noting, even among them, it was rare to see a Catholic Turk, considering that the heavy majority was adept of either Greek Orthodox rite or to the Armenian Miaphysite rite.

    The same token, by a fiat of historical tradition, applied to the Moors (Mauri), a term used interchangeably with the more recent word “Barbarines” (i.e. Berbers), encompassing all the peoples of the Maghreb. These, however, will not have such a significant contact with the Outremerine Crusaders until the latter undertake their final invasion of Egypt. They will, however, be in a state of constant hostility with the “Franks” from Italy and from Iberia.


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    Non-contemporary painting depicting Muslims praying in a mosque (c. 16th C.)


    A word must be given to the Druze, a very peculiar Arabic ethnoreligious group, adherent to Shia Islam, but whose creed is more esoteric and blends several philosophical and theological influences, including Gnostic Christian, Jewish and even Platonist. By the time of the First Crusade, the Druze had only been recently founded and revealed as a distinct group by the Fatimid Caliph al-Ḥākim bi-Amr Allāh, who bestowed his patronage upon the first preacher Hamza ibn 'Alī ibn Ahmad.

    The Druze spread very quickly during the reign of Caliph al-Ḥākim, until the 1020s, having formed numerous communities in Alexandria and even in Antioch and Aleppo, but they were bloodily persecuted by his successor and son Abu'l Hasan ʻAlī az-Zāhir li A'zaz li Din-illah, whose troops spared no life in their fanatical urge to destroy what they saw as an impious heresy. The massacres provoked an exodus of the Druze to the Syrian hinterland and to the peripheries of the Caliphate. Their survival was guaranteed by the timely invasion of the Turkic Seljuqs, who expelled the Fatimid armies and allowed some breathing space. The quick collapse of the Turkish administration allowed these handful of believers to strive and even seek new more appropriate homes, and thus they became entrenched in southern Syria and in the mountains of Lebanon, with a few families of them inhabiting northern Palestine and the western provinces of Damascus.

    The arrival of the Crusaders presented another source of conflict for the Druze, but they, zealous of their independence and of their creed, provided serious resistance, one that would last for decades after the establishment of the Crusader State. They were organized around clan-like structures, and traced their lineage to ancient Arabic families, notably the Tanûkh and the Banu Ma’an, which had come from Yemen at behest of the rulers of Damascus to protect their western provinces from the encroaching Franks. The Norman dynasts of Tyre and Tripoli, in their tireless quest to become the ultimate masters of Phoenicia and Lebanon, became the Druzes’ greatest nemeses, but the Latin-Druze war would last for decades, considering that the latter could take advantage of geography and topography to jeopardize the Franks. After the fall of Damascus and the end of the Second Crusade, however, the Outremerine knights would turn their attention to the Druze and even then it would take some years to obtain a more convenient truce. The Crusaders would, in fact, be unable to eradicate the Druze, but their military resolve and containment would force the more powerful families to accept Latin suzerainty in exchange for autonomy and religious freedom.

    In time, however, the coexistence with a growing Christian population would become intolerable for the Druze, and many of them would migrate, once again, to Tadmor, former Palmyra (1160s) where they would eventually form their own Emirate. Most of the remaining Syrian Druze, however, would migrate to farer lands, more specifically to Hejaz and to Yemen, where they would become finally entrenched as a religious minority, against Sunni and Shi'a alike.


    ******​


    One fundamental principle of Islamic faith, regardless of its branches, is the hajj, a pilgrimage obligatory to every able adult Muslims to Mecca, and this is particularly relevant in the assessment of the changes wrought by the first Crusades (between the 11th to early 13th C.), because the establishment of a hostile Christian polity in the Levant region jeopardized and disrupted the pilgrimage routes for Muslims from the whole of Dar al-Islam. Indeed, this inimical state placed in Palestine and Syria, by the peculiar geography of the Near East, formed a “wedge” that many times proved an obstacle, because all the routes passed either through Caesarea, Jerusalem, Amman or Damascus - to those coming from Mesopotamia, Jaziria, Iraq, Persia, and etc. To those coming from Africa, there was a route through the southern reaches of the Sinai peninsula, but it was a prohibitive pathway across an unforgiving desert, and, nonetheless, the Crusaders were near enough and, when sufficiently inspired, launched their raids across these arid expanses. Those coming from the countries situated north of the Crusader State had to make a longer and more dangerous detour through the eastern fringes of Syria, or by descending through Iraq into Basra, and from there into northeastern Arabia, only to then cross the whole peninsula to arrive in Mecca.

    To be fair, only in periods of declared war did the Franks undertake hostile actions against the pilgrims - they knew that pilgrimage equated to commerce, and they had no intention of jeopardizing the exchange of goods from the Inner Orient -, but even in peace times, the Muslims were subject to extortionate tolls in the routes and many times furnished caravans to avoid Frankish territory altogether.

    The consolidation of the Crusader State, in fact, would eventually strengthen the use of maritime routes, after the 14th C., through the Red and Persian Seas, to allow access to western Arabia, and this would, in the span of a few decades, increase the relevance and influence of Oman and Yemen, the principal beneficiaries of the expansion of sea pilgrimage. This, in a peculiar twist of history, would restore the relevance of Arabia in the context of Islamic geopolitics, which had been waning since the foundation of the Umayyad Caliphate.


    2.6. Jews and Samaritans

    In the Crusader Era, Palestine was home to only a few communities of Jews, all of which paled in comparison to the size and prosperity of those now established in Egypt, in Iraq, in al-Andalus and even in European kingdoms such as Germany and England. Even if it was their homeland and religious heartland, the fact remained that ancient “Judaea” was a backwater province and an impoverished periphery of the global Islamic empires, and, after these ones declined, it became a desolate battlefield. All these events forced wave after wave of Jewish migration, a phenomenon that only reinforced their centuries-old diaspora.

    The consolidation of the Crusader State ushered a period of relative stability and prosperity which might have, in perfect conditions, allowed for the return of exiled Hebraic communities. The problem was that the Crusaders, as a rule, were fairly antisemite, and their opposition to the settlement of Jews was actually enforced by law. One of the first Latin charters passed to Jerusalem prohibited Jews from acquiring property inside the city, and this eventually extended to other places considered significant in Biblical history, such as Nazareth, Bethlehem and Jordan. This meant that Jews were forbidden to access the best places of Palestine, and the indigenous ones were outright expelled by truculent and zealous Frankish knights or their Christian Palestinian lackeys, who also harbored no love towards the ever unprivileged Jews. Many of the Palestinian Jews migrated to Egypt, considered safe from the Crusader fanaticism, but, alas, even the realm of the Fatimids would soon be caught in an age of strife, intolerance and violence, all of whic wantonly afflicted Jewish communities.

    There are, nonetheless, various records of Jewish pilgrimage during the Crusade Era and, to these, the Latins imposed little restrictions, considering that they usually were from affluent and prosperous families, whose piety made them willing to accept the exorbitant fees applied by greedy Franks.


    05.jpg


    Medieval painting depicting Jewish moneylenders. The Jews are identified by physical traits, such as exaggerated aquiline noses and by garments, notably the pointed hat, a piece of clothing mandated by law in some places such as Saxony and Bavaria (c. 13th C.)

    Now, the Samaritans present a special case. Much like the Christian Maronites and Islamic Druze, they form an ethnoreligious group derived from Talmudic tradition and directly related to Judaism, but which regards the contemporary Jewish religion as being adultered by foreign influences since the age of the Babylonian captivity, and seek to find a “pure” cosmovision. Very reduced in numbers, and geographically concentrated in the region of Samaria (southern Palestine), the Samaritans were perhaps fated to insignificance in the grand scheme of things, as they were during the various centuries of Roman and Arab dominance, but, under the Crusaders, they unexpectedly experienced a sort of cultural renaissance, due to the patronage of some generations of Frankish feudal lords and clergymen.

    The prestige of the Samaritans owed solely to a mention they were warranted in the Bible, more specifically, in the Gospel of Luke, where Christ tells the “parable of the good Samaritan” and preaches a message of fraternity and hospitality. The parable became very popular during the period, sometimes joined with the idealized depictions of Christian pilgrims and chivalrous knights, not in the least because the Order of the Hospitallers appropriated the symbol of the “good Samaritan” in their iconographic records. In a society obsessed with abstract ideas of hospitality, piety and mercy, such as that of the Crusades, in which the character of the “pilgrim” was central, the parable was seen as an allegorical and sometimes factual representation of the realities of the voyages to the Holy Land. Thus, without any sort of expectation, the Samaritans saw themselves bestowed with privileges, and their reclusive ways respected as a form of peculiar monasticism.

    With time, the Samaritans would see some attempts by the Franks of converting them to Catholic Christianity, but to this they never responded with violence, but rather with dignity and firmness, traits that greatly impressed the Latins. In the end, the Samaritans became integrated as a distinctive minority in the Crusader State, and allowed great autonomy, unlike their Jewish cousins, now doubly disgraced: firstly, because they were forbidden from entering and inhabiting their own homeland, and secondly, because everywhere else in the Christian realm they were bedeviled as “Christ-killers”.


    ____________________________________________

    Notes and comments: you will see that I’ve often used the term “ethnoreligious” in this chapter; it signifies a group defined by both ethnic aspects and religious legacy, which, most of the times, crystalize certain cultural amalgams. History saw a lot of ethnoreligions, but, nowadays, it seems that not many of them survived the consolidation of nation-states, and the concept of a cultural union defined by religion and ethnicity has been largely supplanted by the advent of nationalism or other forms of macro-social structures such as ideology and even religion itself - but, nowadays, it seems that even in religious grounds, there is a strong tendency towards agglomeration in larger groups, such as the dualism between Sunni and Sh’ia, Buddhism and Christianity as adversaries, and etc.

    ITTL, one of my intentions is to conceive and develop a world in which religion remains a fundamental premise of social organization across the ages, with even deeper significance than IOTL, and even allows space for some syncretism due to the conjoining spheres of influence in certain areas of the world, notably the Middle East and North Africa, India, etc. I want to analyze how we can explore more the idea of ethnoreligions that grow even beyond political borders, and how this will relate to other forms of sociopolitical organization.

    "Barbarines" is a neologism (alt-terminology) to designate the Berbers and the peoples of the Barbary Coast in general. It in time will become more popular than "Moor".

    You'll see that I've only mentioned the Copts in passing. I want to explore their relation with the Crusaders in some later opportunity. The same goes for the Nestorians, whose impact, in this moment, would be less than minimal in the context of the current Crusades. They go unmentioned now, but we'll delve in details later on.
     
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    Interlude 4 (Part III) - Culture
  • INTERLUDE 4 (PART III) - CULTURE


    Forcibly inserted in the crossroads of the continents of Europe, Asia and Africa, the Crusader State for its whole history saw a multitude of cultural interchanges and transformations, represented in various ways, be them in linguistics, arts and other crafts, clothing, and customs and habits.

    From the contemporary sources, we can attest that European authors commonly lauded the Frankish notables that remained faithful to the mores and cultural premises then prevalent in Europe. We must be careful, however, because the mere singling out of these cultural reactionaries among the Latin-Levantines seems to indicate that they were the exception rather than the rule. In general, we can infer that the arriving Franks became genuinely (even if gradually) “acclimatized” to the eastern Mediterranean way of life, to the point that, by the late 12th C., they had already incorporated alien or unusual habits in the eyes of some European visitors.

    On the other hand, this does not means that their own cultures were forsaken in favor of the so-called “Galilean customs” - as one German pilgrim famously wrote in his journal -; in fact, the Crusaders successfully left their own cultural imprints in the Outremer, over the course of the centuries, and this we can reasonably understand to be part of a genuine cultural interchange between Occident and Orient.


    1. Language and terminology



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    Arabic inscriptions in the portico of the Temple of Solomon (Dome of the Rock). The Crusaders implemented various structural changes in the architecture of the Temple, but a few ornamental Arabic influences are extant

    Before the Crusades, the dominant language of the Levant was Arabic, used by caliphal and provincial elites, as well as by the educated classes of the urban centers, while Greek was the one preferred in the coastal cities by merchants and craftsmen alike. There is to this day a debate related to the preeminence of the Syriac/Aramaic language in the rural provinces, notably in Palestine, Phoenicia, Oultrejordaine and Edom, and in the fringes of Syria, because, while Arabic was already favored as a literary language, even among educated Christians, the "elder language" was still in vogue in the Syriac liturgy, and we can speculate that there might be speakers that never adopted Arabic out of sheer inertia, due to the lack of contact with the mostly-urbanized Arabian elites.

    The arrival of the Crusaders, which was followed with the reinvigoration of Rhōmanía in the geopolitical scenario of the Orient, was the first spark that provoked a significant linguistic revolution in the region of the Levant. For the first time in many centuries, ever since the late age of the Roman Empire, Latin regained a modicum of relevance in the eastern Mediterranean, owing to the influence of the Catholic Church. It was, obviously, the language of liturgy, but its use was actively enforced in official writing by the Archbishopric of Jerusalem and by the various bishoprics subordinated to it; all diplomatic correspondence and bureaucratic and legal documents had to be written in Latin. It certainly helped the fact that most of the scribes in the feudal administrative apparatuses and literary authors were clergymen themselves or scholars educated in ecclesiastic institutions. It is worth noting, in fact, that Vulgar Latin acquired an even greater relevance as an actual spoken language in the Outremer, at least in its formative decades, than in Europe itself, where it had largely fallen out of favor in relation to the various Latinate languages that derived from it. While in Europe it was rather common to find a person who knew how to read, but not speak Latin, in the Outremer, its oral usage quickly became a norm among the educated circles, out of the convenience of permitting verbal communication between various linguistic origins - Italians, Provençals and Aquitanians, Normans, Burgundians, Lorrainers, Flemings, Bavarians, and so forth.

    To be fair, one can suspect that the usage of Latin was enforced by the high-ranking authorities of the Outremer not only due to the necessity of allowing direct communication between official agencies and the recording of fiscal and administrative information, without the need of translation, but also because, among Christian educated circles in the urban centers of the Levant, as mentioned above, there was a favoritism for Greek and Arabic, and it seems that the various Archbishops of Jerusalem went to great length to avoid the dissemination of foreign languages among the Frankish elites. In this, they were mostly successful, but we have anecdotal evidence that some noblemen and burghers adopted Rhōmaîon Greek as a second language, and a handful of them, such as the Norman Count William II of Balbac, became more acquainted with Arabic.

    View attachment 536305
    02.jpg

    Detail of a Latin inscription in a Table, demonstrating an example of Medieval Vulgar Latin

    The continued usage of canonical Latin explains why we have little actual written evidence that allows us to better understand the birth and growth of the Outremerine (or Latin-Levantine) language. One must comprehend, in any case, that this new course of language, which received various Latin, Germanic and Ishmaelite tongues as tributaries, did not form in the span of a single century, but rather over various generations. The lack of useful evidence for its structural formation, however, is something that greatly frustrates the linguistic historians, because one has the impression that Latin-Levantine simply blooms in a somewhat mature form from the early 14th C. onward, with only a few evidences of its development in the previous centuries.

    It is difficult to describe Latin-Levantine by itself, especially in its embryonic phase, because it never was a “pure” linguistic template, but rather a fusion of various linguistic patterns, a phenomenon that happened in various places of multicultural interchange, such as Sicily, Hispania, Baltica and Scandinavia, among various others. Its main grammatical, syntactic and phonetic backbone was Latinate, born out of [increasingly simplified] western Mediterranean linguistic sources, notably Lombard, Aquitanian and Provençal, but it also had a congenital French and Normand influence - all of which, between themselves, had, in this period, a greater degree of intelligibility. Other European languages, mostly the Germanic ones, such as Flemish, Bavarian and Saxon, had secondary influence, more visible in vocabulary than in grammar and morphological structure, but the long-lasting presence of some of these speakers permitted the development of regional dialects or variations more based in these tongues, and thus we will see, as early as the 14th C., the appearance of odd linguistic entities such as Phoenician German and Syrio-Flemish.

    Native languages also had a relevant impact in the formation of Latin-Levantine, most notably Arabic itself, but also Syriac and Greek, and especially among the unprivileged social strata. At certain moments, in fact, we can attest the formation of two rather distinctive linguistic patterns in the Outremer, one more based on the European Latinate heritage, current among the urban populations, whose daily life was directly impacted by the Frankish elites, and another one, formed by an inverse trend, that is, Arabic or Syriac-speaking native and rural populations whose languages were severely impacted by the interpenetration with Latinate and Germanic sources. Over the course of the centuries, these two lines of philological structures will gradually converge and form a more homogeneous language.


    2. Visual Arts and Aesthetics


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    Mosaic of the Female Musicians in Emèse, an exquisite and antique piece of Rhōmaîon mosaic art, which was copied in other places, such as the Basilica of San Marco, in Venice


    The early phase of the Crusader Age already saw trends that would culminate in a cultural, social and scientific renaissance over the course of the 13th and 14th Centuries. The continued interchange with Europe, with Rhōmanía and with the Islamic realm permitted the Outremer to absorb a multitude of influences and influxes, and, by itself, to function as a diffuser of these movements.

    The phenomenon that birthed these movements was the rediscovery of various antique classics, from Greek and Roman origin, that had been mostly lost to Europe after the fall of Rome, but had been preserved in Constantinople and, surprisingly enough, in the Islamic Caliphates. In what is relevant to analyze the history of Outremerine artistic development, we must understand that, in similar fashion to what happened in many other places and periods of the Medieval Centuries, the main trends involved the fusion between the Christian religious identity with various forms of artistic expression, with many regional flavors, owing from northern and southern European influences, as well as Rhōmaîon and Armenian ones, and, later, Arabic and Egyptian ones. The main templates for artistic development, especially in the field of aesthetics, were the Biblical narratives, sometimes interpreted literally as historical records, such as the Books of Exodus and Kings, and sometimes as allegorical passages used to describe contemporary events. Beyond the Bible, the period saw a greater use of classical antiquity examples, most notably from Homeric and Virgilian literature. It would become increasingly common to see the identification of contemporary individuals with classical personages, such as Prince Bohemond likened to Achilles, and the Normans to the Myrmidons, for example.

    Iconography related to saints, as it was usual in the Medieval period, was ever popular, but one peculiarity was the preference towards martial saints, the so-called athleta Christi (“champions of Christ”). Some were already well-known in the Occident, like St. George, St. Maurice and St. Michael - one that inspired the foundation of the Michaelite Order -, but others were “rediscovered” by the contact with Rhōmanía, such as St. Demetrius and St. Theodore, also represented as a dragon-slayer. As a matter of fact, dragon-slaying iconography became particularly popular in the Crusader Age, and narratives usually likened these canonized warriors in places known, but not familiar, to the Latin-Levantines, such as Arabia and Mesopotamia, and it becomes very common to see saints wearing red-cross as if they were Crusaders, and the allegorical association of desert-dwelling draconians with the Saracens becomes noticeable for all but the simplest of minds.

    In visual arts, we can see a noticeable impact of the Greco-Armenian influence in late 12th C. illumination and painting. It was also in this period that we saw a revival of mosaic art; it had largely died out in Europe, but was still in vogue in Rhōmanía, and, being greatly prized by the Outremerine Christian elites, not only in temples, but also in private palaces and even castles, it was repopularized in the Occident as well. In the Outremer, there are various examples, such as the tesserae of the Cathedral of Tyre, the dome abode of the Basilica of Emèse [OTL Homs], and the fascinating composite image of the travels of St. Paul the Apostle in the chapel of the Palace of Damascus. Even more significant than that is the fact that, after the Crusades, we see begin to see various examples of mosaic practice in Poitiers and Aquitaine, in Normandy and Burgundy, and as far as England, Saxony and Poland, with a distinctive Rhōmaîon influence. Indeed, in some of these places, they were actually crafted by Greek artists, such as the impressive mosaic designed in the wall of the St. Blasius’ Basilica of Brunswick, commissioned by Emperor Henry the Lion.

    Another medium of visual art which experienced a revival was the fresco, which, while derived from Romanesque heritage, saw increasingly pervasive Arabian influence - especially after the Crusader conquest of Egypt - and whose most notable examples can be seen even today in Catalonia, in Lombardy and in Hungary. It might be odd to see the pseudo-kufic and Arabesque inscriptions in the frescoes that adorn various buildings in Buda, Esztergom and Székesfehérvár, lest one knows beforehand that King Emeric I [Hung. Imre kýrali] became an enthusiast of the Latin-Levantine aesthetics and brought some Arab artisans in his entourage after he returned from a Crusade.

    05.jpg


    Early Latin-Levantine-influenced fresco in the Church of St. George in Buda (c. 1230s)

    Finally, it is worth mentioning the explosive growth of artistic tapestry, the likes of which were already seen in Europe - with the most remarkable example being the famous Norman piece in the Bayeux Cathedral depicting the conquest of England - but now, in the Outremer, intermarried with the local techniques and cultural flavors, mostly Arabic and Armenian. It is indeed odd to see Latin-Levantine tapestries designed by Arab weavers, who sometimes abused the ignorance of their Frankish benefactors and inserted Islamic references in their own work, such as writings of the Qu’ran or the name of the ruling Caliph, all while depicting Biblical scenes. In any case, the Outremer would soon become the main exporter of tapestry to Europe, all thanks to the effort and to the pleasure of the Italian entrepreneurs, whose profits expanded massively over the course of the 13th and 14th Centuries, and thus we see fine embroidered Syrian carpets, weaved in Beirut and in Acre, as far as Scotland and Denmark.


    3. Architecture and Sculpture


    06.jpg


    Picture of the Cathedral of Tortosa, an example of the conjoining of various influences, from Rhômaiônic to Gothic. It was built upon an older Greek church, and improved by successive generations of Bavarian Marquises

    With the Crusades, the Franks entered in contact with a vibrant stonemasonry tradition which had been in development for millennia, and, as they absorbed these influences, so did they brought their own fashion and fixtures to employ in their work. Native Palestinian and Syrian sculpting techniques, surprisingly, were less influenced by the Arabic styles than they were by the Rhōmaîon ones, mostly from the Justinianic period; the craftsmen that still practiced these works - mostly of Greek origin - were avidly procured by Latin sponsors - likely Italians and Flemings -, who saw in these works the exoticism that seemed to dwell in the Orient. With time, the Franks would also grow to appreciate the “Saracenic” tastes in architecture.

    As in Europe, monumental architecture was initially applied to religious buildings, from churches to basilicas, and examples of these developments abound in the Outremer, with notable Italian and French influences, mostly of the Romanesque style, and we can see the gradual fusion with the Rhōmaîon techniques, mostly notably in the preference for rotundas and dome-shaped abodes.

    The Gothic style would make its way later in the 12th C., with early experiments seen in Tyre and Tortosa (according to the Norman and Bavarian tastes), but would later be matured in Damascus and in Jerusalem itself, thus providing a very peculiar merger of the Occidental and Oriental ornaments for ecclesiastic structures.

    Now, it is in decorative architecture that we see other developments, and this both in ecclesiastic and administrative buildings, but also in private constructions. with a mishmash of Biblical iconography, Greco-Roman classical flavors, and even Armenian and Syrian inspirations. Particularly noticeable is the construction of khachkars by Armenian immigrants, elaborated carved steles with intricate motifs, erected in burial sites - notably in frontier castles of Syria, where many Armenian soldiers found employment under Frankish barons -, or to commemorate military victories or the building of churches.

    07.jpg


    Detail of an Armenian khachkar sculpted in the eastern side of the Hospital of St. Mary in Jerusalem

    Many extant examples of early Crusader sculptural are those of funerary nature; indeed, Crusader lords, perhaps incensed by Oriental mysticism, were seemingly obsessed with lavishly decorating their resting places. We see many Crusader sarcophagi and mausoleums with intricate ornaments, and the most remarkable example is certainly that of Melisende of Tiberias, the daughter of Count Baldwin, who, upon her death in 1161, was interred in a necropolis built to house her kinspersons in the Mount of Beatitudes, where Christ delivered his famous sermon.


    4. Literature and Music


    The fact that the Outremer saw a blooming artistic tradition based on troubadourism from as early as the late 12th C. serves as a testament of the pervasive Provençal influence in the region, one that only grew and strengthened with time, as the ideal of Crusading became particularly vivid in the collective consciousness of the peoples of Aquitaine. If is correct to say that the Toulousains brought by Raymond St. Giles were the precursors of this Languedocien culture in the Levant, it is also correct to affirm that their cultural legacy was nourished by the influx of other Provençal, Aquitanian, Gascon and Auvergnese immigrants that came along the 12th to 14th Centuries, and settled mainly in Lebanon, in Iturea and in the Damascanese [i.e. Central Syria]. It has been argued by some historians that troubadourism has its genesis in the Andalusian Islamic lyrical culture, so, in this regard, the European product - even if obsessed as it was with certain concepts and narrative fixtures such as courtly love and chivalry - was all but resurrecting a largely forgotten lyrical tradition in the Orient.

    The harbinger of troubadourism in the Outremer was none other than Duke William IX of Aquitaine, veteran of the Crusade of 1101 A.D., and whose retinue was famous for the presence of various musicians, artists and entertainers, to the point that one contemporary Norman knight, in an effort to lambast him, argued that the Saracens would be slain by their own laughter than by violence of arms. It is worth noting that Duke William himself was a troubadour, and this might explain the rapid growth in popularity of the lyrical poetry of langue d’oc origin in the Near East. It did catch on even among other cultural and linguistic groups, such as among the Bavarians and the Lombards, in spite of their own peculiar social mores.


    008.jpg


    Detail of a miniature depicting two wandering minstrels (c. 1300 A.D.)

    The relative homogeneity between the various styles and types, at least in its early development, can be understood by the fact that courtly poets usually developed their work based in common themes of the Crusading Era, such as pilgrimage as a form of penitence, the virtuousness of the religious war, the pretense of restoring the “true” faith and peace to a lawless world, and later we see the formation of literary archetypes peculiar to the Crusader identity, such as the humble pilgrim, the noble Saracen, the valiant Templarian, and the greedy Norman captain, all of these well explored in the extensive works of Blacatz, a veteran of the Third Crusade. It is worth noting, in fact, that as early as the 1230s we see the first comedic musical pieces of the Outremer, attributed to Richard de Fournival.

    Other forms of music were popular, and we see the appearance of the hurdy-gurdy, of the lute and the harp in the Outremer, among various instruments. Minstrels and troubadours were invariably well received in the Latin-Levantine courts, most notably in those situated in its outlying regions, such as the Damascanese and Tortosana, and some of them went as far as Cilician Armenia, so as to show their works, and also to learn from the native traditions. Once again, we can attest the consolidation of the Armenian influence over the newly established Frankish cultural sphere in the Near East, a situation nonetheless made more odd and complex by the fact that Greek language was often used as a medium of transmission, and this allowed the formation of peculiar musical pieces, intermixing the sonority of the tongues.


    5. Daily customs and activities


    The eastern Mediterranean was home to a well-developed and ancient public bathing tradition, which came from as early as the Hellenic period, and was expanded during the Roman era, and later, by the Arabs. To the Greeks and Romans, public houses were places of collective meetings, to discuss politics and gossip, as well as to conduct business transactions, and they invested resources in making these places spacious, lavish and ornamented. To the Arabs, personal cleanliness was the main purpose, and this was, indeed, a religious commandment and a ritualistic activity [Qadaa' al-Haajah]; they, nonetheless, made their bath houses, known as hammam, elegant and gracious, to inspire tranquility and meditation.

    When the Crusaders made themselves the masters of the Outremer, they readily immersed in the public bathing traditions of Palestine and Syria, which, in Europe, had largely died out, barring a few places such as southern England, Tuscany, Provence and others such as in Ruthenia and Scandinavia, were saunas were preferred. By the 12th C., most of the functioning bathhouses were of the Arabic model, such as the Ummayad hammams of Damascus, but there were a considerable number of extant ancient Roman spas, notably in Caesarea and in Tiberias. In general, differences between them were mostly of external appearance and structure, but their functionality was mostly the same, with separate chambers for steaming with vapor and tepid water, and cold ones for washing off and actual bathing.

    It is all but evident that the Franks became particularly used with the higher standards of hygiene they saw in the Outremer, and this easily explains why we see the gradual revival of public bathing culture in Europe, and now even in its more septentrional regions, such as in Ireland, in Hungary and in Germany, where Aachen and Baden-Baden saw themselves as very popular spa destinations as early as the 14th C.

    Animal hunting was a fixture of daily life in these times, but, among the nobility, it was a recreational activity and a martial exercise. This predilection was not unlike that of the Arabs and the Turks before them, who were also fond of hunting, but the Franks could be said to be obsessed with it, and they brought to the Outremer their own cultural perceptions and premises, inherited from the Carolingian traditions. Indeed, they went to great lengths to regulate and control hunting by commoners, restricting its practice to the aristocrats, exactly as they did in Europe. Laws were created to restrict the access of woodlands, such as those of Jordania, Lebanon and of the Orontes valley; with time, they created preserves and warrens and wilderness sanctuaries, given to the care of gamekeepers, all while commoners were subject to various punishments in case of illegal hunting, and had to content themselves with small game outside of these reservations. The injustice of this regime was frequently observed in popular literature and poetry, usually by allegories, in which nobles are likened to fat lions that forbid the famished dogs, representing serfs and peasants, of attacking hares and ferrets.


    08.jpg


    Illumination from the Biblia Hierosolimitana (c. 1330s) depicting a group of bears. At the time of the Crusades, bears were endemic in the mountainous and woodland areas north of Palestine, specially in Lebanon and Syria, and were prized game for the young and experienced noblemen alike

    The Crusaders were surprised to find the same species of game they saw in Europe, such as boars, deers, foxes, wolves, and even bears, which were particularly abundant in the Lebanese mountains, and in northern Syria. There were, however, exotic specimens of fauna, such as cheetahs and leopards, honey badgers, and antelopes. One of the rarest - and thus most prized -, was the Caspian tiger, a feline endemic in the Caucasus region, but whose range extended to the outlying regions of southern Armenia. Some Frankish nobles, in peacetime, such as Thierry of Flanders and Simon of Montfort, endeavored to find and hunt these ferocious creatures, which were hitherto believed to be mythical. One of these was captured and brought to Europe by a Champagnois nobleman, and gifted to his liege, Theobald, King of Navarre.

    Falconing was seen as an integral part of hunting activity, but was, in itself, another past-time preferred by noblemen, one that could be practiced by both men and women. Notable women which exercised it were Melisende of Tiberias and Matilde of Balbac. In the Levant, it was another activity deeply influenced by Arab convention, and, indeed, the Arabs were the first to adopt a manual-based approach to the practice, and the best teachers of it were none other than Saracens employed in the Outremerine courts. An early work translated in the 1180s, from Arabic to Latin, was a treatise on falconry written by an obscure Arab author named “Moamyn”, and it became a fixture for young Frankish noblemen, to the point that we see it regarded as an almost artistic and more sophisticated instrument for hunting game.

    Finally, in a passage dedicated to comment on vulgar pastimes, one can not ignore the importance of gambling, which served as entertainment for individuals of various social classes. While various games, based on dices and pieces, were very well-known in Europe, here we must focus on those which were brought by the Crusaders from the Arabs, the most famous being the Nard, a sophisticated table-board game (backgammon) which might or not be based in an ancient Roman one named simply Tabula. Oddly enough, it was known less by the aspects of the game itself, rather than by the material supports it depended on, because the boards, especially those brought as gifts to wealthy noblemen, were lavishly crafted in ivory and ebony.
     
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    Interlude 4 (Part IV) - Politics and Administration
  • Hello again, folks, let's get this going. This will be the last interlude before we resume the storyline, and it is a particularly important one, because it will give us many geographic references to understand the political landscape of the alt-Outremer, and you might refer to it in future chapters to better understand the narrative, the relations of power and influence, and of cultures.

    First of all, I know that many will claim for maps, and, indeed, they are very useful to understand the position of cities and so forth. You must have in mind, however, that the tool I use more often to localize places and toponyms is Google Maps, which, obviously, can't be used as a static reference to help you here. This is why I put so many links to the wiki articles about the places and names, so you can get better references and, perhaps, construct your own image of what the narrative conveys. In any case, I'll be putting just below some maps - a few of them fictional ones - that I used for reference (with spoiler tabs so it won't get unnecessarily big):

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    County_of_Tripoli_1135-es.jpg



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    INTERLUDE 4 (PART IV) - POLITICS AND ADMINISTRATION



    In our days, the Crusader State, in its early phase, is called the “Latin Principality”, to contrast with the regal regime established before the Fourth Crusade, but, to the contemporaries, it was simply called Terra Sancta [Holy Land] or Regnum Dei [the Kingdom of God], or, more colloquially, the Ultramar [Outremer], or, sometimes simply Hierosolyma, which quickly became current in Europe as a metonymy for the whole region. The Saracens called the geographic region al-Sham, but, when referring to the Crusader State, they called it as-Ṣalībyya (“Ṣalībī” meaning “Crusader).

    For most of its history, the Crusader State was formally defined as a theocratic entity, in which the head of state was an ecclesiastic authority - the Archbishop of Jerusalem, in his capacity of a direct Papal legate -, with the Prince of Jerusalem simply a marshal of the field armies. It was by the sheer virtue of his mastery of the arms and violence, however, that the temporal authority was often the de facto ruler of the realm, with the spiritual one relegated to a mere ceremonial role, sanctioning the holy wars against the infidels. Few were the Archbishops who, like Gregory I, held enough gravitas and auctoritas to rein the capricious feudal lords, and this he did mainly by presenting himself as both a spiritual and temporal ruler, and frequently went with the arms on battle, dressed as a knight.

    In practice, the political organization of the Crusader State was far more complex than the definition of a hierarchical relation between the spiritual and temporal rulers. Even in its infancy, when governmental bureaucratic apparatus was rudimentary, the coexistence of feudal relations and ecclesiastic institutions, and, later, with the mercantile communal entities and military orders, created a very entangled and labyrinthine structure of statecraft.


    1. The Formation of the Crusader Commonwealth


    In general, there was no rhyme nor reason in the creation of the Outremerine fiefs and dioceses; being born out of conquest and of the whims of the warlords and prelates, and not of historical processes of political integration or dissolution that defined older realms, in its formative years, the Crusader State was all but an confederation of various Frankish strongmen that scrambled for their own cities, castles, rivers and acreages, often by coercing or simply eliminating local Levantine or Syrian rulers, under the formal suzerainty of the Papacy. In the first century of the Outremer, the Crusader lords maintained the legal fiction that they were equals, and thus their feudal titles were seldom understood in a formal ranking system; power was measured in relation to the number of soldiers and knights that a liege could summon to campaign. Afterwards, in the regal period, we will see the formalization of a ranked peerage structure, with greater emphasis on the dynastic prestige and wealth.

    The Levant was not, however, a terra nullius, ripe for conquest and settlement, but rather into a region with eons-old civilizations that left their own devices and traditions carved into the Levantine sociopolitical apparatus. There were preexisting administrative, political and economic structures, built by the Rhōmaîoi, by the Arabs and by the ancient Romans before them, even if most of them had been utterly disrupted after the downfall of the Abbasid Caliphate, and the invasions of the Seljuqs and of the Fatimids. To be fair, the Franks, even after a century after the conquest, had left many of these structures intact, especially in the interior provinces. Barring the control of strategically-relevant urban centers, ports and fortifications - and these were mostly concentrated in lowland Palestine and Lebanon, and in the Orontes valley and the western parts of Coelesyria -, the Franks did not interfere in the provincial rulerships or local institutions, and this explains why we see, even in the 13th C., still a myriad of Saracen, Syrian and Palestinian vassals under the nominal suzerainty of the Frankish counts and dukes. Until then, it was still common, by natives, to refer to the regions as jund (plural ajnad) - which were the administrative divisions of the Arabic Caliphates -, instead of as counties or baronies. Later on, we begin to see trends of provincial colonization, notably in Lebanon and western Syria, and they will result in the gradual displacement or simply assimilation of the local communities.


    2. The Communes, Provinces and Holdings of the Outremer


    By the late 12th C., we can describe the political entities, fiefs and organizations of the Outremer, according to their preeminence and their feudal relations, as such:

    I. Arquidiocese of the Holy Land
    (Seat in Jerusalem)

    As mentioned elsewhere in this chronicle, the original political entity created by the Franks was a theocratic one, and it supposedly held a proxy suzerainty over the temporal rulerships. The primate of Jerusalem, however, beyond his paramountcy over the ecclesiastic jurisdiction, also held politico-administrative attributes, and, in this capacity, he governed over the whole region of Judaea, whose center was Jerusalem itself.

    It must be noted, however, that the political and hierarchical rule of the Archbishop, extends well beyond the territorial expanse of Judaea, encompassing other places whose direct government was given to a prelate - usually over places of particular religious significance because of their association with Biblical figures, whose government was retained directly by the Catholic Church. Worth mentioning are the dioceses of Bethlehem, of Nazareth, of Cana [of Galilee], where Jesus operated his first miracle, of Sebastia in Samaria, of Hebron, where Abraham is buried, and Petra in Nabataea, of Lydda [OTL Lod], the birthplace of Saint George, among others.

    With time, the priests ruling over these territories would be nominated prince-bishops or, more rarely, prince-abbots (as it happened with Petra of Nabataea, whose ruler was the abbot of the Benedictine monastery of Tafilania), alike to those in the [Holy] Roman Empire, but remained subordinated to the suzerainty of the Archbishop of Jerusalem, and never incorporated into the lay fiefs of the temporal lords. Not coincidentally, these were also the same places where we see the first sanctuaries of the sword fraternities be founded, especially the Templarians, the Michaelites and the Teutonians.

    II. Duchy of Galilee
    (Seat in Jerusalem)

    This one title was created by Prince Raymond I soon after the First Crusade, in conjunction with the title of Prince of Jerusalem, attributed to him by Adhemar of Le Puy. Initially, it was supposed to ascribe a greater legitimacy to Raymond, considering that, in that period, the title of “prince” was rather vague and generic, while the title of “duke” was more meaningful in post-Carolingian Europe.

    In size, the Duchy of Galilee was among the largest of the Outremerine fiefs, and extended well beyond the historical region of Galilee (according to the Bible), including Judaea, where Jerusalem lays, and Samaria to the north, parts of Idumea to the south, centered in Hebron, Philistia in the west, and Galilee proper, surrounding Lake Tiberias. The Crusaders were fairly knowledgeable about the historical toponyms of the region, at least according to its Biblical denominations, and this reflects in the terminology they used to denominate their feudal entities, but it is worth noting that they did little to change the provincial design drawn by the Rhōmaîon Empire centuries ago, and thus later we will see duchies created in a way that mirrors the ancient provinces.

    The Duchy of Galilee, like other political structures of the Outremer - and others in Europe -, was a complicated and sometimes bizarre patchwork of fiefs, and its form changed often according to the whim of the ruling Princes of Jerusalem and his nobiliar peers. There were various castellanies which remained directly submitted to the authority of the Duke, sometimes referred anachronistically in historiography as “free barons”. In the contemporary documents, they are named simply “castellans” or “landed knights”.

    Overall, the Latin settlers in Palestine came mostly from Provence, Gascony, Aquitaine, Auvergne, as well as from the Burgundies, Touraine and Normandy, and from Langobardia.

    1. The Urbes of Jaffa and Arsuf → These two ports had been liberated from the Fatimid dominion by Raymond of St. Giles soon after the First Crusade, but he never incorporated them to his own patrimony, preferring to distribute their revenues to his own vassals and to the Church. After Bohemond became the Prince of Jerusalem, he ceded their direct rule to the Genoese in exchange for money and mercenaries, but demanded their vassalage directly to the princely crown. Both cities were then formally incorporated into the Duchy of Galilee - an arrangement eagerly accepted by the Archbishop, once the Genoese agreed to pay an annual stipend to the Church -, but retained a special, quasi-autonomous status, similar to the communes of the Italian peninsula or the free cities of the [Holy] Roman Empire, which will later be reaffirmed by the various successive crowned monarchs of the Outremer. The settlers hailed mostly from Liguria, but there were also a distinctive Piedmontese community.

    2. Viceduchy or Vicariate of Galilee (no seat) → the region of Galilee, before the foundation of the Outremerine monarchy, was submitted to the direct rule of the Prince of Jerusalem, in his capacity as Duke of Galilee. Considering its size and population, however, and the fact that the Prince was often in absentia to conduct campaigns, it became a tradition, starting with Bohemond, to appoint a deputy to steward him in the administrative and fiscal matters of the region. This position was originally not hereditary, and he held no function as an actual lord, but rather as a delegate, and was, at first, conferred to the Gonfalonier of the Holy Cross. It will, however, be consolidated as a feudal title in its own right, and aggregated to the royal style and demesne of the Kings of the Outremer.

    3. County of Samaria (seat in Napules/Nablus) → Samaria too is a region of historical significance, situated between Judaea in the south and Galilee in the north. It was an impoverished and underpopulated region, and its initial development under the Crusaders only owed to the necessity of fortifying the region to secure transportation, communications and pilgrimage; once the Latin-Levantine territory was expanded to include Syria, Samaria gradually lost its relevance as a fortified province - and this shows by the fact that their feudal rulers rarely stayed in Nablus, preferring the comforts of coastal emporia such as Jaffa or Caesarea -, but will become a prime destination for pilgrims and Cluniac monks seeking a monastic life, as well as French and Rhinelanders, as well as Armenian immigrants.

    4. County of Idumea (seat in Zoara) → In territorial extent, the County of Idumea [Biblical Edom] Nabatea was among the largest feudal holdings of the Outremer, but its relevance, barring the presence of military outposts, monasteries and chapters of the knight orders, was diminutive, because it had few sectors of arable land and pastures. Its first capital was the city of Hebron - the place where patriarch Abraham is buried -, a poor and underpopulated settlement, on the fringes of the Negev desert, whose direct rule, as mentioned above, pertained to the Church, and not to the lay noblemen, who were normally of Provençal or Gascon stock, owing to the fact that Raymond of St. Giles had claimed overlordship over the castles and parochies of the region in the early days of the Crusader State. After his son Bertrand acquired the property of the castle of Zoara, situated in the southern shore of the Dead Sea, and enfeoffed the County to the nobles of the House of Narbonne, it was established as the seat of the fief. They would then fortify the region with castles to guard the roads to Arabia, and, by exploiting the commerce from Syria, their prosperity would grow. Owing to their influence, many settlers to the region came from Provence and Narbonnense.


    III. St. Giles’ Patrimony or Provençal Counties
    (seat in Caesarea)

    The various cities of the Palestinian coast were, in theory, submitted to the authority of the Duke of Galilee, but history shows that, for a long time, they enjoyed a de facto autonomy, and, consolidated under the heritage of the House of Toulouse, it became a political entity in its own right, as if its ruler held the stature of a Duke himself.

    Indeed, the Provençal Counties - encompassing almost the whole Palestinian littoral - were those created and attributed to Raymond of St. Giles, the first Prince of Jerusalem, and they were incorporated to his personal patrimony and thus passed to his descendants hereditarily, much to Bohemond’s chagrin. Even if the Norman Princes with time become content with conquering and exploiting the more prosperous provinces of Lebanon, it is certain that they envied the fact that the House of Toulouse, starting with Bertrand, was able to consolidate their rule over the wealthier settlements and more fertile regions of the southern Outremer. Their court was formally established in the ancient Greco-Roman metropolis of Caesarea, but they were the masters of Haifa/Caiphas, and, later on, of Acre - after the Latin-Levantine branch of the House of Foix died out -, as well as Ascalon and Iamènie [OTL Ibelin, modern Yavne]. The Toulousains had also secured the holy sites of Mount Carmel and the Moncainus [OTL Tel Yokneam], which were also water sources for the region and fertile slopes.

    These various separate counties, accumulated in personal union by St. Giles’s descendants, became an indivisible patrimony. By the time of the creation of the Kingdom of the Outremer, it had long since become a de facto duchy, and because of its it will be elevated in feudal stature to be recognized as the Duchy of the Maritimes.

    Of note among the vassals of the Latin-Levantine branch of the House of Toulouse, we must cite the castellanies of Gaza, Darum and Arimathea, which the Arabs used to call Ramla. All of these were important strongholds to guard the venues linking Palestine and Egypt, and thus they became heavily fortified and garrisoned to check the advance of the Fatimid armies against the Crusader State. The settlers were generally from the regions of Provence and of Venetia.


    IV. March of Transjordania and Nabatea
    (No seat)

    Latin-Levantine Transjordania, much like Galilee proper, for most of its history did not have an established hereditary ruler, but it saw a succession of vitalician feudal stewards appointed by the Princes or by the Archbishop. Its peculiar status reflects in the terminology used by contemporary documents - sometimes called a March [a militarized border], sometimes a County, but more generally as “Transjordania” or, more rarely, “Nabatea et Moab” -, and the fact that it did not even have a lordly court, all of which seems to indicate that it did not have a genuine politico-administrative existence, being rather a geographic concept.

    Even without an established seat it was noticeable, however, that many of the appointed Vicedukes, such as French baron Enguerrand of Melun or the Italo-Norman magnate Achard of Lecce, often preferred to hold court in Medaba [OTL Madaba], in these times a pleasurable walled town made prosperous by the cultivation of olive and grapes. Sometimes, however, the preferred seat was Iverbint [OTL Irbid] or even the small citadel of Amahant [OTL Amman], because of its milder climate. Other castles were erected with time, mainly with the intent of protecting the Jordan valley and Coelesyria against the constant threat of the Bedouin raiders from Arabia.

    The Frankish population was very mixed in the region, which, being a border one, seemingly welcomed the most destitute and adventurous spirits of the European realms, and thus we see many impoverished knights from France and Italy, and even from England and Germany, where land had become scarce and disputed. The most notable cases are those of the English colonists established in Tafilania as well as Lorrainers that made their new homes in Iverbint.


    V. County of Tyre
    (Seat in Tyre)

    Prince Bohemond’s greatest military conquest created a lordly seat for his own lineage, and for that of his vassals from southern Italy, not only those from Apulia and Calabria, but also from Benevento and Salerno. Its modest territorial extent did not disparage its political and economic importance in the Outremer. Surrounded by fertile expanses and rich woodlands of cedar, going as far as the Golan mountains, the Normans coming from Bohemond’s army found a country not unlike that of southern Italy, and they eagerly made themselves its masters to exploit its resources, its lands and its laborers. Indeed, Bohemond himself and his Hauteville kinsmen in the Levant actively sponsored colonization, and hundreds of settlers came from the Italian peninsula and from Normandy proper, as exemplified by the Francophone settlements in Scandelion and in Toupenine [OTL Tebnine], and by the Beneventan colony in Sarepta.

    As mentioned previously, the County of Tyre remained of fundamental importance in the Crusader politics, being the principal holdout of the Norman faction in the Outremer, and its wealth, from commerce and from the land, made many of these Italo-Normans, Lombards and Frenchmen prosperous in their own right, nobleman and peasant alike.


    VI. Viscounty of Beirut and Sidon
    (Seat in Beirut)

    Beirut was the conquest of the ambitious and power hungry William IX of Aquitaine, a man dedicated to the arts of poetry and of war, and it is said that he was so enchanted by the sight of the marvelous Mediterranean metropolis that he claimed he would carry the city across the sea to gift it to the sea of Aquitaine. Once he departed to Europe, he refused to relinquish its property to any other lord, and voyaged to Rome to pay homage to the Pope himself, in exchange for the recognition of his rule over a Crusader realm conquered for himself. In his stead, a Viscount was established from among his kinsmen, initially from the Gascon dynasty of Marsan, but, in his will, he provisioned that his younger son, Raymond of Poitiers, was to receive the fief as his own, while his elder son, William, inherited his titles and holdings in Europe as the tenth of his name. Thus, we see the inauguration of the Outremerine branch of the House of Poitiers, seated in Beirut, from the 1130s onwards, and because of this, the arrival of scores of Aquitanian and Gascon settlers in the region.

    As for Sidon, when it submitted to the Crusaders, remained under the rule of a native Levantine family, whose ruler had converted to Christianity on sword-point. After he died, however, his sons never came to inherit; deposed and expelled from their homeland by a caprice of their Frankish masters, they departed to Egypt, and never again found fortune. An Archepiscopalian sanction was just necessary to legitimize the arbitrary takeover by the Aquitanian magnates of Beirut, and thus Sidon, a lesser and poorer sister of Beirut, was joined in a single commonwealth, under the auspices of the lords of Aquitaine.

    The most important of the vassal fiefs was the Lordship of Gibalïs or Bilieônès [OTL Jbeil/ancient Byblos], enfeoffed to Geoffrey of Rancon, an Aquitainian lord from Taillebourg.


    VII. County of Tiberias
    (seat in Tiberias)

    Much like the Provençal Counties, Tiberias nominally belonged to the feudal overlordship of the Duchy of Galilee, but, in practice, it retained substantial autonomy, and the Lorrainer dynasts of the fief were often endowed with honorific titles from the Court of Grandees, such as Seneschal or Majordomo. Tiberias controlled the roads and trade connecting Galilee and Syria, and it also held suzerainty over the castellanies and estates of the upper Jordan valley, aspects that made it wealthy in comparison to the other inland provinces of Palestine.

    Once established in Tiberias, the Lorrainer dynasts, not unlike many of their aristocratic colleagues, sponsored immigration from their European homeland, and thus we see an influx of peoples from Lorraine and Lothier, as well as from Alsace and Frisia - even if in lesser numbers than the Lombards, Normans and Provençals - such as in Cabarnaum [OTL Capernaum], rebuilt from its ancient ruins in the fashion of an European town. Because of the House of Boulogne’s association with the defunct County of Edessa, we see too a significant influx of colonists from the Armenian realm, most of which became established in the town of Saflat [OTL Safed].


    VIII. County of Balbac
    (seat in Balbac)

    Situated in a hilltop, Baalbek was a very ancient city dedicated to the demon Baal - worshiped as a god by the ancient Phoenicians -, and ever since its foundation it has been a veritable stronghold guarding sacred grounds, which were refashioned by the Greeks, and later by the Romans to please their own gods, and silently obfuscate the veneration of the elder Canaanites. The region was one of particular religious significance, with various ancient temples, and the tomb of Noah in the city of Karak [OTL Karak Nuh], but in the age of the Crusades, it had largely been abandoned and neglected by the Arabs. The Franks, on the other hand, eagerly consecrated the temples and converted them into basilicas, but the massive Temple of Bacchus, in particular, was transformed into a fortress, with a new circuit of walls and towers erected by the Italo-Normans of the House of Monte Sant’Angelo. It became one of the earliest examples of the Crusader castle-building in Lebanon.

    Its strategic position was one of particular relevance in the interior of Lebanon, because it permitted to overlook and control the roads going into the Beqaa valley. Having secured the fortified town of Zahlé as well, the Italo-Normans became the masters of one of the most fertile and productive regions of the Levant. While the Frankish nobles of the littoral profited from exacting taxes from the traders and tolls, the Normans seated in Balbac exploited the cultivation of cereals, cotton, poppies and especially wine, one particularly prized to the Syrian and Arab customers that traded with the Europeans, and the wealth of the Sant’Angeli increased even more once Damascus and the rest of Coelesyria were annexed to the Crusader State.

    Its native population was mostly of Syriac Christians in the rural areas, with a number of Saracen and Druze communities in the urban settlements and a few prized acreages. With time, the proportion and the demographic composition was drastically altered, now that the Syriacs were favored by the ruling Franks, but, even then, they were underscored in face of various Norman and especially Lombard and Carinthian immigrants that came to settle in the Beqaa province. Of distinction, one must mention the traditional Croatian community established near Balbac by the auspices of Count William II.


    IX. County of Tripoli
    (seat in Tripoli)

    The last of the Mediterranean Levantine emporia to fall to the Crusaders, Tripoli was a monumental metropolis, made prosperous by various industries that have been producing since the dawn of Phoenicia. It was disputed even before its conquest; it had been coveted by Raymond of St. Giles, who desired to incorporate it into his own fief, and Bohemond too sought to conquer it, but the acquisition of Tyre had seemingly placated his appetite. That of his vassals, however, was not, and the Norman captains desired to subjugate it in spite of the claims of neutrality, and of the Crusaders’ promises of peace due to the fear of an Egyptian retaliation.

    Once the Fatimid threat subsided, however, and the other Palestinian and Lebanese cities were annexed, the last Arab emirate of the region could easily predict its own demise. Afterwards, its spoils were shared by various Italo-Norman, Franco-Norman and Lombard aristocrats and knights, but the prize of the province itself was awarded to the Sant’Angeli by the Salernitani, as a reward for their loyalty and influence. Thus, the Count of Balbac, William of Sant’Angelo, became too the Count of Tripoli, and, thus, one of the most powerful and wealthy grandees of the Outremer. It is true that his death would result in the division of the patrimony, and each of his two sons received one county to rule on succession, but the fact remained that, much like St. Giles’ patrimony, both Tripoli and Balbac became consolidated in that of the Sant’Angeli. This status quo would be preserved for decades, and would later be recognized by the future Kings of the Outremer, with the fusion of the Counties of Balbac and Tripoli in a single political entity, called the County Palatine of Tripoli.


    X. March of Tortosa
    (seat in Tortosa)

    Created by the Archbishop of Jerusalem to reward the conquest undertaken by Duke Welf of Bavaria, one of the most formidable and pious commanders of the Crusade of 1101, the idea of attributing the title of Marchio (“Markgraf” [Margrave] in his own language, or “Marquis” in French) was seen fit as a manner to elevate his standing even above that of a duke, since he relinquished his European estates when he decided to remain in the Holy Land, and also because the province of Tortosa, or Antartous, [OTL Tartus] was supposed to be the northernmost frontier of the Outremer. In practice, however, the title had no more significance than that of his colleagues of comtal or ducal standing, and, in the Court of Grandees, the Margraves of Tortosa were seen as equals, and held no special privileges, unlike those in the [Holy] Roman Empire and those in England.

    With the intent of serving as militarized barrier to shield Lebanon and Palestine from invasions coming from Syria, the Marcher Lords of Tortosa and the Princes of Jerusalem invested heavily in the construction of castles and fortresses to garrison the province, such as in the promontory of Safita, in the mountains of Masyaf and in the isle of Aradus [OTL Arwad]. Encompassing a large territorial area, and various walled settlements, the Bavarians avidly sponsored immigration from their homeland, and, in the span of a couple generations, there were various German communities established in the region, such as the Austrians in Margat [Qalaat al-Marqab] and in Maraclea [Khrab Marqiya], as well as the Franconians in Jabala [OTL Jableh]. The Bavarians themselves inhabited the metropolises of Tortosa and of Bavanyern [OTL Baniyas]. As one can infer, the province was majoritarily settled by German peoples, and this made her distinctive among the mostly Francophone and Italianophone regions of the Outremer. They brought from Europe their own guilds and skilled craftsmen, as well as laborers to work in the quarries, orchards, fields and mines. With time, they will become a formidable opposition in the economic arena against the Italians and the Flemings.

    Later on, after the end of the princely period, and reflecting a trend that sees the elevation of feudal titles in the Outremer, we will see the Margraviate be converted into the Principality of Tortosa.


    XI. Duchy of Hôumïs or Emèse
    (seat in Emèse)

    The Duchy of Emèse was the only ducal-level dignity created in the pre-monarchical era, in the context of the Second Crusade, as a way of the Capetian King *Phillip II of France to elevate the prestige and standing of his own dynasty, by awarding a glorious conquest and a prosperous province of the Orient to his relative - then, his younger brother Robert of Dreux -, and one eagerly sanctioned by the Archbishop, who wanted to bind one of the royal houses of Europe to the fate of the Outremer. The continued disinterest of the Capetian dynasts in actually ruling and holding court in the Orient, however, generated a peculiar status quo, in which the royal regents remained ruling the duchy permanently as if they were Dukes themselves. For consecutive generations, the French House of Montfort, related by blood to the Capetian dynasty, was the favored one, and they greatly increased their own wealth and prominence among the Franco-Levantine aristocrats.

    The region of Emèse, among the regions of the Near East, is among the most fertile ones, made so by an extensive irrigation system, whose keystone was Lake Homs itself. It was an artificial fresh-water body, created by the ancient Romans in the age of the pagan emperors, by damming the Orontes river. The Crusaders themselves were surprised to find the still extant ruins of the Roman watchtowers built centuries ago. Everywhere else, in various river courses, such as in Ramàt [OTL Hama], they found the water wheels and canals constructed by the Arabs, specially during the reign of the Umayyads, whose Caliphs had attempted to make Syria the fairest and most prosperous piece of the Earth, alike to the Jannah [Eden]. Thus, we see that the fertility of the region was unmatched by any other of Syria, barring that of the Goulta plain, where Damascus is situated, and that of the Houran province. The few noblemen who came from Europe and received lands in the region became fabulously wealthy by exploiting the staple productions of cereals and cotton, as well as sugar beets and lentils, appreciated in Europe as delicacies. One peculiar production by which the region will be very well known, from the late 14th C. onwards, will be that of naphtha, by, in the early Crusading era, it was still in infancy.

    The principal fiefs subordinated to the Duke of Emèse were the Counties of Ramàt and Sèzert, a name derived from the Greek “Sezer” [OTL Shaizar]. The region saw an impressive flux of immigrants from northern France, notably from the places that bordered the greater fiefdoms between the Loire and Seine valleys: Anjou, Touraine, Normandy, Blois and Champagne, whose grand lords nourished hatreds consecutive generations and exsanguinated their peasantries in unending wars. One must note the influence, in particular, of Elias of Anjou, Count of Sèzert, whose efforts allowed the settlement of more than thirty families that he brought from Touraine, and established an extensive and profitable production of wine in the region that lasted for generations.


    XII. Damascus and the Syrian Holdings
    (seat in Damascus)

    This Chronicle has delved in great detail in the Matter of the Orient, which describes when and in which circumstances the Franks conquered Damascus and made themselves the masters of the region that the ancient Romans called Coelesyria, and was sometimes named Celèssrie. Now, we must understand that this ancient realm, after being wrestled from the Saracens, was carved and partitioned in various petty fiefs, and remained divided for various scores of years before being rejoined into a single commonwealth. Indeed, even if the Normans from Italy sought to claim the whole spoils of the conquest for themselves, led by Prince Roger I, their colleagues among the Latin-Levantine grandees refused to admit that the triumph over Damascus was anything other than one resultant from the common efforts of the Crusaders.

    The initial idea of fashioning a single principality or duchy encompassing the whole of Syria was discarded, and, hearing the pleas and complaints of the aristocrats, the seated Archbishop of Jerusalem agreed to sanction the creation of a county that comprehended the metropolis of Damascus and the outlying regions, but also distributed other cities, such as those of the Houran plains - including Haute Nabars [OTL Al-Nabek] and L’Abroüth [OTL Yabroud], among others, created as baronies (seigneuries) - to the ambitious Franco-Oriental magnates. The most prominent families, those of Toulouse, Aquitaine, Lorraine, Germany, and Lombardy, all wanted their own piece of Celèssirie, and thus the realm was broken like glass.

    By the late 12th C., the region experienced a steep and languishing decline, be it by the demographic disturbances caused by the Crusaders, whose lords exploited and alienated the native Syrian communities, notably the Saracen ones, and brought their own colonists from Europe; be it due to the fact that Damascus itself, the prime hub of commerce and industry, suffered greatly due to administrative mismanagement and economic overexploitation, and also due to the lack of nourishment by the Arabic commercial influxes, which were displaced to inner Arabia. The circumstances were not helped by the fact that, for a long time, the Syrian markets, and this included Aleppo and Emèse, were off limits to the Arab, Jazirian, Egyptian and Persian traders.

    Only later in the history of the Outremer we will see the heartlands of Syria be amalgamated into a single feudal lordship, elevated to the status of Principality, but Damascus will, for most of her history, be integrated into the royal demesne.


    XIII. Monastic Lordships

    Among the peculiarities of the internal politico-administrative structure of the Outremer, which would happen elsewhere in the ever expanding frontiers of Christendom, was the presence of the military orders. It became a trend for various Archbishops to attribute the lordship of castles and even whole cities to the armed fraternities, most notably of those situated in the fringes of the realm, ever exposed to the attacks of the Saracens.

    The Order of the Perpetual Guardians Temple of Solomon received, as their first headquarters outside Jerusalem, the ancient Biblical city of Jericho, while the The Most Devout Pilgrim-Soldiers of Saint Michael received the old fort of Barsabia [OTL Beersheba], with the purpose of protecting the roads linking Jerusalem to Syria and to Egypt, respectively. In the span of a few decades, the Templarians received too the citadel of Mana [OTL Ma’an] and of Tafilania [OTL Tafilah], as well as Alila [OTL Aqaba, from the ancient Aela], near the entrance of the Red Sea, where Moses allegedly had made the sea open wide. The Michaelites, on the other hand, were greatly favored by the Normans and Italians and thus received benefices in Syria, particularly in the frontier regions, and thus, they saw themselves established in Salämine [OTL Salamyia] and in Bosra, where they went to great length to convert the local Mahometan populations.

    The Fraternity of the Hospital of St. John received their own landholdings to sustain their activities, usually in urban settlements. By the late 12th C., we see one hospital in each of the lordly seats of the Latin Levant.

    Finally, we see the later growth of the Apostolic Order of the Legate-Knights of the Hospital of the Blessed Virgin, more popularly known as the Teutonic or German Hospitallarians, inspired by St. John's Fraternity, which will become an armed fraternity affiliated to the [Holy] Roman Empire.

    In their embryonary forms, the orders depended exclusively on donations, and these came mostly from prosperous burghers from Europe, as well as from pilgrims and even from the Church itself. Soon, however, they came to receive their own grants from the ruling authorities, and these usually came in two forms: (a) beneficia precariae, which were temporary (non-allodial) landholding grants that permitted the collection of revenues; and (b) granges, which were lands of the monasteries’ property, independent from the manorial holdings, devoted to the production of livelihoods, to horse-breeding and to the construction of industrial devices, such as foundries and windmills. Many immigrants from Europe came to labor in the monastic properties, considering that the working regime was considerably better than that under the manorial lords - and many would even join as “lay brothers”, aspiring for personal reputation and esteem.


    _________________________________________________________________________


    Notes and comments: the title of "Viceduke" was a very unusual one, but it did exist historically, and, guess what, it was used in Norman Italy by none other than Bohemond's brother Roger Borsa, in relation to a certain nobleman named Manso, so it seemed fit that an alt-Bohemond could create the title to employ in the Outremer, and there it would gain more traction than in Europe proper. It is telling the fact that even among Dukes or even Kings, it was far more common to use the title of "Viscount" as a grant to a feudal ruler without an inheritable holding.

    I know that terminology will very often get confusing, but try to have in mind the big picture with the three main regions of the Crusader State (Palestine, Lebanon and Syria), and the process of territorial expansion described over the course of the TL. Some toponyms I simply invented, but most of them were actually used by the Crusaders or by other non-Semitic peoples, and I tried to convey the idea of having a foreign language attempting to translate, usually based in phonetic structure, some place names.

    The names of the Military Orders were also changed, so you can see that their historical formation and development was different from OTL, even if we have alternate analogues to the Templars, to the Hospitallers and to the Teutonics, for example. As you can expect, their history will be diverge substantially from OTL.
     
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    ACT V - THE CHRISTIAN EMPIRE AND EARTHLY KINGDOM OF GOD

  • ACT V - THE CHRISTIAN EMPIRE AND THE EARTHLY KINGDOM OF GOD




    3e43978c84356ac04e54003244fc53a3.jpg


    Non-contemporary painting representing the dialogue between Basileus Alexios I Komnenos and the anonymous Frankish knight who sat on the throne (1097 A.D.)


    Book X. Part X. (...) Thus they all assembled, Godfrey amongst them, and after the oath had been taken by all the Counts, a certain venturesome noble sat down on the Emperor's seat. The Emperor put up with him and said not a word, knowing of old the Latins' haughty nature. But Count Baldwin stepped forward and taking him by the hand raised him up, rebuked him severely, and said, "It was wrong of you to do such a thing here, and that too when you have promised fealty to the Emperor; for it is not customary for the Roman Emperors to allow their subjects to sit beside them on the throne, and those who become his Majesty's sworn bondmen must observe the customs of the country." He made no reply to Baldwin, but darted a fierce glance at the Emperor and muttered some words to himself in his own language, saying, "Look at this rustic that keeps his seat, while such valiant captains are standing round him." The movement of the Latin's lips did not escape the Emperor, who called one of the interpreters of the Latin tongue and asked the purport of his words. When he heard what the remark was, he said nothing to the Latin for some time, but kept the saying in his heart. As they were all taking leave of the Emperor, he called that haughty minded, audacious Latin, and inquired who he was and of what country and lineage. "I am a Frank of the purest nobility," he replied, "all that I know is that at the crossroads in the country whence I come there stands an old sanctuary, to which everyone who desires to fight in single combat goes ready accoutered for single combat, and there prays to God for help while he waits in expectation of the man who will dare to fight him. At those crossroads I too have often tarried, waiting and longing for an antagonist; but never has one appeared who dared to fight me." In reply to this the Emperor said, "If you did not find a fight when you sought for it then, now the time has come which will give you your fill of fighting. But I strongly advise you not to place yourself in the rear nor in the front of your line, but to stand in the centre of the 'hemilochitae,' for I have had a long experience of the Turkish method of fighting." It was not to this man only that he gave this advice, but to all the others he foretold the accidents likely to happen on their journey, and counselled them never to pursue the barbarians very far when God granted them a victory over them, for fear of being killed by falling into ambushes.

    Book XI, part III. (...) Then that swollen-headed Latin, who had dared to sit on the imperial throne, was forgetful of the Emperor's advice, and fought in the front of Bohemund's army and in his stupidity ran ahead of the others. About forty of his men were killed in consequence, and he himself, seriously wounded, turned his back to the foe and made his way back to the middle of the army, thus proclaiming in deed, though he would not in words, the wisdom of the Emperor's advice.


    Excerpts from Anna Komnena's "Alexiad"


    **********​


    The First Crusade propitiated the very first encounter between the Franks and the Rhōmaîoi, who became brothers in faith and in arms, and whose covenant permitted Christianity to rise from the brink of ruin in the Orient, in its very birthplace.

    Yet, their worldly ambition, vanity and pride made them to live by the sword, against Christ's warning to Saint Peter, and even times made them enemies among themselves, despising their fraternity much like the sinful Cain had done in the dawn of mankind.​
     
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    55. Abbot Suger of St. Denis becomes Archbishop of Jerusalem (1143/1145)
  • Hello guys, I'll be posting here a new chapter, and tomorrow I'll be answering the previous posts. I've recently moved to a new city, and the previous couple months have been busy (even more with the Covid pandemic). I've been in home office, so even staying at home, I unfortunately don't have a lot of spare time... but let's get this going on.





    hE7CJQB6P-krejem9jC20h0HHpLxTl2ip5cZvQ5iPSI7Y0Z7rL1KfVrqwOtkzjICizZxj15Z940vdbiAi4DGyOUEVuLYqA_8Unyyq1jqofr0GC0pwTSUVW7EEEudn5PA3n3FGURq


    Alabaster sculpture (c. 1250s) depicting the arrival and welcoming of Suger in the port of Jaffa


    So it came to pass that in 1141 A.D., the fifth Archbishop of Jerusalem suddenly passed away, but the office remained vacant until early 1143, when it was granted by Pope Victor IV [Gregorio Conti de Ceccano] to Suger, then the Abbot of Saint Denis. Coming from humble origins among the French peasantry, he was dedicated to the monastic life and rapidly ascended into the clerical hierarchy and eventually became the head and administrator of the Basilica of Saint Denis. This placed him under the eye of the King of France himself, Louis VI, and ultimately Suger entered his privy council as an esteemed advisor, and in this capacity he made for himself a reputation as a meticulous minister, and his reputation grew tenfold among the European dignitaries and eminences.

    Nevertheless, Suger’s invitation by Pope Victor to become the head of the Levantine Archidiocese and the Papal legate to the Holy Land was unanticipated and startling to many, specially to those more closely associated with the Pope, as they seemed to believe that this prestigious office, second only to that of the Supreme Pontiff itself, was a prerogative granted to the Cardinals only. The fact that he was not an Italian - not even Roman, in this regard - and that he was an abbot, meaning that he had long since chosen to retire to the monastic seclusion, and never gave himself to the exalted devotion of the proper ecclesiastic hierarchy, were circumstances that seemingly conspired against his investiture.

    To be fair, this nomination owed mainly to the influence and patronage of King *Phillip II of France - who, on his return from the Orient, voyaged to Rome and bestowed the Lateran with various exotic gifts -, as well as to the dedicated praise of Bernard of Clairvaux (future Pope Stephen X), one of the most influential men of his age, and very esteemed by Pope Victor IV due to his piety, vigor and wisdom. Indeed, His Holiness was very concerned about the reports he received from the Levantine prelates, which invariably described the vices indulged by the lay lords and wealthy patricians alike, the neglect of the Church’s patrimony in the Holy Land, even by the deceased Archbishop, who lived a dissolute life, and the hardships of creating structures to govern a realm of decadent infidels, and Suger’s indication impressed the Bishop of Rome. With the King’s blessing, the Abbot of St. Denis then made a pilgrimage to Rome, accompanied by none other than Bernard himself, as well as other dignitaries of monastic extraction monks and noblemen from Île-de-France. In the former capital of the world, Suger was relieved from his former incumbency as an abbot and was invested in the Archidiocese of the Holy Land. From there onwards, the cortege continued their pilgrimage by sea, courtesy of the Pisans, and reached Jerusalem in 1143 A.D.


    ******​


    Fated to become one of the most outstanding Catholic patriarchs of the Levant, Suger would prove to be an apt administrator and statesman, and second to none of his predecessors, barring Gregory I. By coalescing around his persona the support and the strength of the Armed Fraternities and of the monasteries, he would struggle for various years to contain the excesses of the nobility and of the clergy and to mediate the quarrels of the Crusader lords, as well as to restore the initial premises of a Papal establishment in the Holy Land.

    As we will see, his most remarkable contributions would be seen in the architectural developments of the Outremer, in the administrative reforms of the Crusader State, and in the scholarly works that he incorporated from the learned circles of western Europe. It is worth mentioning that Suger was an avid writer of letters, and, fortunately for the historians, many of his epistles survived, and they have inestimable value to the Outremerine historiography, because he often explained in detail the ongoing events and conditions of his day. He corresponded with various of the European monarchs and lords, and bishops and abbots, and he often talked about his dream, inspired by the monastic piety of St. Jerome, of reviving the ways of the early Christians, of the age of the Apostles, in the Holy Land.

    Having formerly participated in the architectural reformation of the Basilica of St. Denis in Paris - the traditional burial place for the French monarchs -, he introduced the then incipient Gothic style to the Orient, one that would leave a mark for various centuries, and even by its merger with the other styles, of Arabic and Greek extraction. He would live to see the construction of a church dedicated to his spiritual sponsor, St. Denis, in Jaffa.

    During his tenure, the Crusader State would also see significant administrative and legislative reforms in its complicated and sometimes bizarre structure. We have addressed in other passages of this Chronicle how the politico-administrative formation of the Crusader State happened in an ad hoc fashion, as there was little of an institutional framework to base upon after the wars between the Seljuks and the Fatimids wrecked the whole Levant. This resulted in the formation of parallel government structures - that of the martial aristocracy, that of the clergymen, including the pontifical hierarchies and the monasteries, that of the urban communes and republics, and that of the traditional agrarian communities - all of which usually intertwined with local Palestinian and Syrian provincial power relations.

    This system was, in most of cases, irrational, and it mostly catered to the interests of the lay noblemen of partitioning the land to exploit the peasantry and to secure military control over the interior provinces, but it was devoid of a consistent institutional framework. Over the course of the years, the Eminence of St. Denis, as he was sometimes called, made a great effort to consolidate the administration of the Crusader State, and, earnest to the premise that it was a theocratic entity, governed by the Holy See, he consciously modelled it in the structure of the Roman Curia over the Patrimony of St. Peter. The terminology used for offices that he created was inspired in that one current in the Papal Court, and thus we see the creation of a Chamberlain, a Theologian, a Majordomo, a Tribune, among others - most of which were granted to his subordinate diocesans, to territorial abbots or to the abbot-princes of the military orders - in parallel to offices such as that of the Constable, the Marshal, the Justiciar and the Seneschal, which had been originally created by Bohemond to serve the Princes of Jerusalem. In this regard, he tried, too, to limit the supremacy of the temporal noblemen over the clergymen, with varying degrees of success, and to create statutes to reduce the dependence on the nobiliar goodwill.

    For the remainder of his life, he maintained contact with other intellectuals of his age, such as Bernard, William of St. Thierry, Robert of Melun, William of Conches, and Richard of Coutances, as well one of his closest friends, Saint Peter of Montboissier, the Abbot of Cluny, one that inspired him to contribute to the then unprecedented work of translating Islamic works to Latin. Indeed, Peter of Montboissier had in the early 1140s took to himself the task of overseeing the creation of a compendium of translated Islamic sources, and concluded it with the fundamental assistance of various monastic associates in Hispania, most notably in Toledo. The most remarkable of his works was the Lex Mahumet pseudoprophete, a Latin translation of the Qu’ran, a copy of which Suger received later in the very year in which it was concluded, 1143 A.D. With it, he intended to delve more deeply into the Muslim theology and thus facilitate the Christian proselitization in the Outremer. According to one of his letters to future Pope Stephen X, Suger argued that one had to understand what they regarded as a heresy to combat it the grounds of debate and polemics, and not solely in that of war and violence. This interchange of Latin and Arabic works, sponsored by Suger and Peter of Cluny would leave a profound impact in the Latin-Levantine culture and in its relations with Muslims.


    ******​


    While he was fated to leave great contributions to the formation of the Crusader State, at the time of his arrival to Jerusalem, in 1143, Suger saw himself placed amidst various conflicts and quarrels between the lay noblemen, which often resorted to arms to force their own pretenses.

    The current head of state was the Bishop of Nazareth, placed as interim diocesan in the absence of a Papal legate, but he was a weak individual, who seemingly lacked any virtues needed to administer a realm, and, even worse, collected many vices.

    The preceding lay prince, Roger of Salerno, had died during the Armenian campaign, just a few weeks after the death of his own firstborn son, Richard of Tyre, who had perished in battle. Devastated by the loss, Roger retired from the campaign, and even attempted to disband the Latin-Levantine army altogether, but the vassals refused, seemingly unable to bear the dishonor of a retreat after they had vanquished the Saracens. Roger, by the time of his passing, was very old, weakened by disease, but this did not prevent some of the Norman lords - chief among them Tancred of Tyre, Roger’s second son, and Mauger of Nablus, titular Viceduke of Galilee - of arguing that the circumstances had been too suspicious. Conveniently, they opted to ascribe the foul act to their main political rival, Count Raymond II of Caesarea, who was also the Constable of the Holy Army.

    Count Raymond, however, was very well connected with his peers among the Franco-Oriental grandees; his wife Judith of Tortosa was the daughter of Welf II, and thus he was the brother-in-law to the incumbent Marquis of Tortosa, Henry, while his sisters Helene and Bertha married to Viscount William II of Acre - from the House of Montpellier - and to Count Eustace of Tiberias - the grandson of Baldwin of Boulogne -, respectively. When confronted by Tancred, Raymond stood ground and, supported by his relatives, eventually made himself the master of the Levantine Crusader army, in the end of the Second Crusade.

    Tancred, surprised by Raymond’s move, nonetheless found supporters to his own cause, namely Viceduke Mauger and Count Bohemond II of Tyre - the grandson of the famous Prince Bohemond. Together, they demanded the disbandment of the army to convene a new conclave, but Raymond, enjoying his new position of prominence, outright refused, and argued that a conclave could only be held after the end of campaign season. The situation became unsustainable, even more when the Norman Count of Tripoli and Balbac, Alexander, son of the former Seneschal William of Monte Sant’Angelo, joined Raymond’s side.

    Tancred, Mauger and Bohemond deserted the campaign, claiming that they had served their dues to the Crusade, and would not suffer attending as mere lackeys to the “tyrant of Constantinople”.

    Instead of disbanding their knights, though, the Normans rode to Jerusalem dressed in armor and demanded Everard, Bishop of Nazareth, to summon a conclave. The archmaster of the Templarians, distrustful of their intentions, threatened them with battle, until they put down their arms and disbanded their forces. Everard, of a cowardly disposition, gave in and nominated Bohemond II Prince of Jerusalem without summoning a conclave; it is likely that, by then, he was aware about Suger’s enthronement in Rome, but the lay noblemen did not. Tancred, having accepted to defer the honor to the Count of Tyre, asked, in exchange, for the title of Seneschal and for the confirmation of his position as Count of Damascus, which was conceded.

    Hearing about the Normans’ defiance, Raymond and his allies hastened back to the Holy Land with their retainers, and marched against Tyre, demanding satisfaction. It was only then that they received the news that the new Archbishop of Jerusalem was coming from Italy by sea. When Suger did arrive, in Jaffa, he discovered that the Toulousains, the Lorrainers and the Bavarians were besieging Tyre, while the Normans and their Lombard associates had entrenched themselves nearby in Toupenine [Tebnine].

    Even before going to Jerusalem, Suger went to meet the leaders of each party, and obtained a compromise; they tried to maintain their pretenses, but the threat of excommunication by the Pope himself was enough to make them put down their arms and finally disband their armies.

    The new Archbishop, even if baffled by the idea of having the Prince of Jerusalem elected among the noblemen - he believed, in fact, that the Prince had to be chosen by the Holy See - was convinced by the suffragan bishops and by the monastic abbots that such an arrangement was a necessary evil, and that failing to maintain the established traditions of the Crusader lords was a recipe for disaster and future conflicts. Suger even considered nominating Atton [Atton de Bruniquel], the current Archmaster of the Templarians, as the Prince of Jerusalem, but, eventually, he conceded with the summoning of a conclave. He deemed, however, that the nomination, after the result of the election, was an exclusive prerogative of the Archbishop, and that it had to be formally sanctioned.

    Suger wrote a comprehensive report to Pope Victor IV in 1144 A.D., of which a copy survived to our days, in which he explains that, in the absence of a strong pontifical authority, the temporal nobles of the Earthly Kingdom had grown haughty and turbulent. In his words:

    “(...) Verily, Holy Father, the Knights of Christ had hitherto been united by their duty and by their single purpose of protecting the Holy City and the Sepulchre from the violence and the perfidy of the Saracens. Now, we have seen that their patrimony and their opulence has grown tenfold, and every one of them has at their disposal hundreds of spears, they become weak to the sins of greed and pride, and covet the wealth of one another, as if they were the vanities of ancient King Solomon.

    With the blessings of Your Holiness, the day has come for the sacrosanctity of the Earthly Kingdom of God to be restored, by the renovation of the works of the Mother Church in this land of mannah and honey.”

    He described how there were previous events of violence among the noblemen, owing to disputes that they saw fit to settle by the use of arms, and cited the succession dispute of the Couty of Tiberias; the kidnapping of Isabella, princess of Sidon, by the renegade Burgundian baron Guigues of Ahamant (1129 A.D.), which provoked a declaration of war by the Viscount of Acre; and the ransacking of the Syriac monastery of Marre Sadanadia [Maarat Saidnaya] by a band of Norman knights led by Ralph of Nablus, which elicited retaliation by the local Syrians, who rose in rebellion (1137 A.D.), among other grievances.


    ******​


    The elected Prince of Jerusalem and Duke of Galilee was none other than Raymond himself. For the first time since his great-grandfather, also named Raymond, the lay prince of the Holy Land was the scion of the House of Toulouse. For Raymond II, this was but the vindication of his prestige and the acknowledgment of the prominence of his dynasty. His grandfather Bertrand had been deeply involved with Jerusalemite politics, but deferred to the nominations of the Norman princes out of the admiration that he had for Bohemond; his father Pons, on the other hand, lacked any ambitions whatsoever, and never sought to improve the condition of his dynasty in the Outremer. Raymond, of choleric temperament, avidly sought the Princely crown and desired to establish his own lineage as the ruling one in Jerusalem. Unlike his ascendants, he regarded the Normans from Tyre, Galilee and Damascus as his rivals and enemies, and feared their rapid growth in wealth and power into the Outremer, most notably after they secured the control of Damascus, a preoccupation shared by some of his colleagues and in-laws, who provided him with the majority of votes.

    Count Bohemond was disconcerted and confused by the result. As it happened, the very increase in prosperity of the Norman potentates made their faction splinter. The dispute of territorial claims between the Counts of Tripoli and of Tyre left bad blood and vendettas, and, on the other hand, the Hautevilles of Tyre distanced themselves from the Salernitani after the deceased Prince Roger claimed the whole of Damascus for himself. Now, Bohemond had no grounds to dispute the result of the election, but he did try to convince the Archbishop to summon another conclave, arguing that the election had to be unanimous and not by majority. Suger was hardly convinced and, having already sanctioned it, would not unmake it.

    In just a few months, a herald came from Rome to Jerusalem - shortly before the arrival of the Crusaders from Germany that would lead the doomed expedition to Egypt -, bringing a signet ring with the Papal seal, a symbol of legitimacy granted by the Pope to the new Prince of Jerusalem.


    1590366648439.png


    Prince Raymond II of Jerusalem and Duke of Galilee depicted in a miniature in a Provençal chansonnier. He was a dedicated patron of the troubadour poetic literature, and invited many contemporaries, such as Marcabru, Cercamon, and Jaufre Rudel, to his court in Caesarea.


    ******​


    While it has been argued that the humiliating failure of the German Crusade could only be faulted to the Christians themselves, as we have seen in another passage of this Chronicle, and because the Crusaders did not see one another as allies, but rather as rivals to whom they had no love and no desire to share spoils, the military triumph in the shores of the Nile by the Fatimid army demonstrated that the Shi’ites had found a formidable champion in the person of Ibn Maṣāl (Najm al-Din Abu'l-Fath Salim ibn Muhammad al-Lukki al-Maghribi), a Berber lieutenant who rose to become the Vizier to Caliph al-Ḥāfiz.

    Having participated in the suppression of the rebellion of the preceding Vizier, Ridwan ibn al-Walakshi - who had tried to depose the Fatimids and install himself as the ruling Caliph -, Ibn Maṣāl was rewarded with the governorship of al-Gharbyya, a province of the Nile Delta, and organized the defenses of the region, knowing that the Crusaders had easy access through the Sinai peninsula. By erecting various fortresses, most notably in the northeastern corner of the Delta, he sought to thwart the advances from the Levant. Now, despite the fact that he was a Sunni among Shi’ites, Ibn Maṣāl sought to promote union between the various Caliphal subjects by emphasizing the religious Islamic identity and cohesion against the Christians, and expelled Christians from the government, most notably Armenians and Jews.

    After his tactical victory in the outskirts of Menuf, where the Bedouins and Turks in Caliphal service routed the combined Bavarian, Swabian, Franconian and Latin-Levantine forces, Ibn Maṣāl pursued the Crusader army into the Sinai. The whole north of Egypt became a graveyard for many hundreds of the armed pilgrims, reason by which Prince Raymond II quickly pleaded for a truce - even against the protest of some of the more proud German princes, such as Duke Henry of Bavaria (future Emperor *Henry V Welf) -, acknowledging that his men were thoroughly exhausted after consecutive years of campaigning. In the next few years, the Levant would suffer a grave epidemic of camp fever, and, later on, the disease would spread through northern Europe, brought by the returning Crusaders.

    Realizing that the Crusaders, with a struggling economy, consumed manpower and diminished morale, needed a respite from war, Archbishop Suger, with Papal blessing, prohibited all of the armed men of the Kingdom from against practicing warfare for the next three consecutive Easters, unless the realm itself fell under attack by the infidels. Needless to say, the interdict greatly displeased the equestrian aristocracy, to whom war was a way of life and a profession, as well as a means of collecting wealth from plunder. Some of them presented a formal complaint, but were met with a stern resolution by the Archbishop, who had, nonetheless, obtained in his favor a letter from the Lateran Palace with the Papal signature that authorized this measure.

    Raymond at first opposed it, but then, he had no intention of making the Archbishop, much less the Pope, their enemies. In fact, he performed his role well, and demonstrated fidelity and obedience to the Eminence of St. Denis, and actively enforced the new determination. In time, his loyalty would pay off.

    Resolved to know the Earthly Kingdom of God as if he was born in and lived in there, the Archbishop set out, in 1145 A.D., followed by a cortege of dignitaries, secretaries, bureaucrats, monks, nobles and patricians, to survey the land, its cities and settlements, as well its fortresses. He was accompanied by Prince Raymond of Caesarea and other high-born magnates, including Bohemond and Tancred, as well as by dignitaries such as Cardinal Guy of Pisa [Guido Pisano], a pontifical chancellor, and Saint Peter Abelard, a prominent scholastic theologian whose writings and thought caused wide controversy among the learned circles of France. Denounced as a heretic by Bernard of Clairvaux, Peter submitted and made a pilgrimage to Rome as penance, and, from there, he followed Cardinal Guy’s retinue to the Orient, seeking to live his final years in meditation and contemplation in the Holy Land. And this he did, and eventually retired to the service of the Monastery of the Cenaculum. Centuries later, he would be canonized as a saint.

    The travels lasted for various months, as Suger voyaged northwards along the road to Antioch. His declared intention, indeed, was to become familiar with the pilgrimage route coming from Asia Minor, and he sponsored the construction of new hospices and also of postal stations to facilitate communication and even commerce, a proposition applauded by the citadine burghers. By actively enforcing the usage of Latin language in the writing of formal correspondence and official government documents, the Archbishop expected to promote a better exchange of information, as well as a greater cohesion between the multilingual populations of the Earthly Kingdom.

    His committee journeyed along the ancient Via Maris all the way to Tortosa, and from there they penetrated inland, following the road to Homs. From there, they went by the inland Syrian roads until they arrived in Damascus, and their coming was reckoned to happen on Palm Sunday. Indeed, they spent Easter week in the former capital of Syria, and in the holy Sunday, the Archbishop presided over a mass in the recently consecrated Cathedral of Saint Paul. Afterwards, he led the various Crusaders, pilgrims and Christian inhabitants of the metropolis in a solemn procession going from the city’s interior to beyond the gates, following the same path that they believed had been followed by Saint Paul himself, and in where he, according to the tradition, had been blinded by an apparition of Christ.

    As it seemed, the Archbishop had succeeded in reaffirming the spiritual and temporal authority of the Holy See over the Latin Principality.





    Notes and comments: Gregorio Conti really existed, but was only an antipope against Innocent II, and only for a short period. ITTL, considering that Anacletus II was undisputed as a legitimate Pope, it seemed senseful for his real-life successor to achieve the Papal throne too.

    Abbot Suger and (OTL Saint) Bernard of Clairvaux are historical characters, and particularly relevant, in the 12th C., so you can expect they will play a significant role in-TL.

    Raymond II is based on the historical Raymond II of Tripoli, but he is all in all a fictional character. The other ones mentioned are all fictional. As you see, this is the first generation of characters born after the initial divergences. Bohemond II, for example, is unrelated to Bohemond II of Antioch, because, as you might remember, ITTL Bohemond had no male son, and instead this second Bohemond is the son of his daughter Alberada - meaning that he is not a Hauteville, but rather from another Norman patrilineal lineage (undefined, as of this chapter).

    Ibn Masal, the Fatimid vizier, is also historical, but I slightly anticipated the years of his appearance in-TL, and tried to make him more relevant in general.
     
    56. Heresies and Pilgrimages (1147 - 1153 C.E.)
  • This chapter is a bit different, because it actually focus on events occurring in contemporary Europe, but which are somewhat related to the alt-Outremer. This will serve to explore important divergences of the TL, so that we see the formation of a more complex and refined alternate world.

    _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________



    56. HERESIES AND PILGRIMAGES (1147 - 1153 C.E.)



    I. The Questions of Faith



    1591909968189.png


    A rare contemporary illustration of Bernard of Clairvaux, before his accession as Pope Stephen X, from the Psalm of Rheims (1148 A.D.)


    Those many scores of Crusader soldiers and pilgrims that returned to France, Germany, Flanders and Hungary after the disastrous conclusion of the Second Crusade, not had brought but a handful of spoils and relics of these lands of the Orient and Egypt, that the Europeans by then reputed to be fabulous and opulent, but also carried with them baneful pestilences. Many of them perished in the inland roads of Asia Minor and of Greece, which became unspecified graveyards.

    Between the years of 1145 and 1147 A.D., the septentrional reaches of the European continent were ravaged by vicious epidemics of camp fever [Epidemic Typhus] and humorly flux [Dysentery], and they claimed the lives of hundreds, specially in the heavily populated urban centers of Flanders, of Rhineland, of Saxony and of Franconia. The most afflicted populations were the poorer ones, those who lived in filth and among vermin, but also those living in the shambles of port cities such as Antwerp and Hamburg. The expansion of the epidemic followed the flows of commerce, considering that the merchants now had easy venues to carry their goods and commodities by land and by sea, and of human migrations, often carried by pilgrims, who would move across countries to reach sanctuaries that received the holy relics from fabled Jerusalem.

    In times of hardship, as we often see, mankind turns to the supernatural for deliverance against their earthly miseries, and, in these very years, the various panoramas of death, by disease and by famine in other places, these events were seen as presages of the imminent apocalypse. Preachers abounded, in the cities too, but mostly in the villages and parishes, and claimed that these were clear signs of divine wrath by their failure in the war against the infidels. Now, due to the influence of the Crusading ideology to the peasants of the hinterlands of Germany and France, the threat of the Saracens was known, but it was nonetheless a remote one; no, their enemies were nearer, as these heralds of the apocalypse argued, and they were either Jews or lepers.

    Sometimes they even targeted Christian communities, arguing that they had been enraptured by heresies of various kinds. Persecutions against the Jewry and against the lepers materialized in the form of armed mobs of paupers, who defined themselves as Crusaders, with the most notable cases being those of Amiens, in northern France - whose local baron was even ousted by a host of pitchfork-armed peasants, and forced to plead for royal intervention - and of Paderborn - where a band of knights-errant joined the mobs and ransacked a synagogue, resulting in hundreds of deaths for the local Jewish community.

    In the eyes of the Roman Church, however, the gravest concern was not directed solely to those unvirtuous crusaders, but also to the heresies that became increasingly popular in the period, most notably the Petrobrusians - who were the followers of Peter of Bruys [Pierre de Bruys], a Flemish heresiarch who was slain by a mob in St. Giles - and the Henricians - who were the adepts of the preaching of Henry of Lausanne [Henri de Lausanne]. Both of these heresies refused infant baptism, and condemned the usage of crosses as religious symbols. Their gravest offense, however, was the refusal to acknowledge the Church’s authority and central hierarchy, arguing that the Scriptures could and should be interpreted by each of the faithful. They were duly opposed in theological debate by contemporaries such as Peter the Venerable and Peter Abelard, while the most dedicated champion against their doctrines was Bernard of Clairvaux, who convinced Pope Victor IV to hold an ecumenical council in Nice, in 1149, to ratify the denouncement already made in Pisa, in 1134.

    In between these years, Bernard tirelessly voyaged through the Francies and through western Germany to preach against their heresies, and successfully convinced the peoples of Besançon and Mâcon to return to orthodoxy and thus reject the acceptance of the Henrician teaching. Afterwards, he, as a representative of the Cistercians, was invited by Norbert of Xanten, founder of the Premonstratensian order, to debate in a synod held in Cologne, in which they condemned the “Manichees”, a Gnostic entity descended from the Bulgarian Bogomils, which had recently come from Italy to the Rhineland. Hundreds of them, established in an ancient hill-fort in Nürburg, were imprisoned under orders of the Archbishop of Cologne, and were condemned for heresy.

    These episodes not only illustrate the spirit of the era, of intense religious fervor, but also demonstrates the influence of the monastic orders, most notably the Cluniac, the Cistercian and the Premonstratensian, as well as of their respective abbots, who were well-regarded in the realms of the Francies and of Germany. In the case of Bernard, his own personal “Crusade” against the heresies of his time would pave the way to his unexpected ascension to the Papacy.


    II. The Pilgrimage of Saint Didier


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    A non-contemporary illustration of the "Chronica Duci Gallicorum Aquitannorum" (c. 1280), depicting Duke William X of Aquitaine and Gascony and his wife Matilda of England, permitting the marriage of two young aristocrats.


    In the chapters that described the events of the Crusade of the Faint-Hearted, we have addressed how one of its most distinguished characters was Duke William IX “the Troubadour” of Aquitaine and of Gascony, and who died in the year of 1127 A.D.

    In spite of his immense prestige and piety, in the grand scheme of feudal liaisons, he had become weak in his elder years, having lost authority over his various insubordinate vassals and fallen out of favor of the Church. Having been excommunicated twice, after various quarrels with the Church, and scandalizing many of his own vassals and most of the clergy by repudiating his wife Phillipa of Toulouse in favor of a mistress, Dangerouse of L’Isle-Bouchard, late William’s reputation was in shambles, and now the very counts and viscounts who had marched with him in the Outremer and in Hispania scorned their feudal dues to the suzerain.

    Now, the new Duke of Aquitaine and Gascony saw it was time to enforce his own authority over the recalcitrant lords, and this endeavor would exact almost ten years of his life, ever since his accession.

    By ascribing various appanages in Saintonge to his younger brother Raymond, William X hoped to preserve his allegiance against the local Saintois nobles. This he did, and in the early part of his reign, he consolidated the resources of his demesne, and secured an important ally in the person of Fulk of Anjou, by promising the hand of his infant daughter Eleanor to his son Geoffrey, and also forged treaties with King Alfonso VII of León and with Count Raymond Berengar III of Barcelona. After the death of his wife Aenor, in early 1130 A.D., he married Matilda of England, the former Queen of the Romans [Holy Roman Empress], and daughter of King Henry I of England. In spite of the fact that she was beyond 30 years, the match was a very prestigious one for the Duke of Aquitaine, who married into a royal house that could support his ambitions in the Francies, and to a woman of the highest status in contemporary Europe. To her family, and more specially to her father Henry, it was a worthy settlement, even if she despised the idea of being “demoted” from Empress to a mere Duchess, but the fact remained that Aquitaine was the most powerful feudatory of western Europe, and would serve as a counterbalance against the French Kings in Paris, whose constant interference in Normandy threatened the English dominion. Soon enough, Duchess Matilda became fond of the sophisticated and cultured Aquitanian court, and proved her fertility by giving William two other sons, brothers to his firstborn William “the Eagle”, named Henry [Henri/Enric] and Theobald [Thibaut/Teobald], as well as another daughter, Melisende [Millicent], sister to Eleanor and Petronilla.

    Fulk of Anjou proved to be a reliable and formidable ally, and, by marshaling the levies of Anjou, Tourainne and Maine, he assisted Duke William in vanquishing a large rebellion by the families of the Parthenays and of the Lusignans in 1130 A.D., in the fiefs of Poitou. In the span of a few years, William curbed the quasi-independence of the Poitevin aristocracy, and secured his dominion over the lands south of the Loire.

    The alliance with Castille was also a beneficial one, and served to secure the southern borders. When the ambitious King of Aragon, Alfonso “the Battler”, crossed the Pyrenees in 1131 A.D. with the intent of annexing Bayonne [Baiona], supported by the seditious Count of Bigorre and of the Viscount of Béarn, his namesake Alfonso of León and Castille immediately attacked Aragon. Now, the various Gascon nobles sided with their liege lord, and the ducal host expelled the invading forces after they prosecuted a four-month-long siege. Centule II of Bigorre and Gaston IV of Béarn were made prisoners in the battlefield, but, later on, in a demonstration of magnanimity, William pardoned them. A few years later, he would face another rebellion, in 1137 A.D., this one in Dax [D’Acs], once again with Aragonese support, but by then his hold over Gascony had been strengthened, and thus the insurgence was short-lived.

    Now, in his relations to the Church, William realized that the disputes protagonized by his father and by his grandfather had only served to diminish the ducal power, and resolved that he would have the clergymen as his allies instead of as his adversaries. For many years, he posed as a dedicated patron of the ecclesiastic institutions - most notably that of Cluny, whose founder was his own forefather, Duke William I of Aquitaine. Carefully respecting the terms of the “Truce of God”, he also ensured that his wars against insubordinate vassals were seen as rightful and legitimate, and always respected the holy days and the ecclesiastic patrimony. And by voyaging four times in his life to Santiago de Compostela, he demonstrated a serious commitment to pilgrimage. Even more, between 1138 and 1142, he went to Hispania during each of the campaigning seasons, and assisted Alfonso of León in the capture of Oreja, near Toledo, and of Coria. Emulating his father, who had passed to History with the epithet “the Crusader”, William X wanted to be known as a champion of Christendom.


    *****​

    The ultimate goal of William’s life, however, was the acquisition of Toulouse, which he believed to be his birthright - and not for any other reason he was known to his contemporaries as William “the Toulousain”. Indeed, Toulouse had been conquered by his father decades ago, soon after Raymond of St. Giles departed for the First Crusade, having claimed it as an inheritance of his wife (and William X’s mother) Phillipa. A couple years later, however, William IX mortgaged the county to Bertrand, future Count of Caesarea, to pay for the expenses of his own voyage to the Orient in the Crusade of 1101. In this period, Phillipa gave birth to William in the palace of Toulouse. William IX did attempt to reconquer Toulouse in 1114 A.D., but it was a short-lived conquest. In a few years, the young son of St. Giles, Alfonso-Jordan, recovered the fief. Now, ever since his infancy, William X knew he was fated to recover it for his dynasty’s patrimony.

    William voyaged to Paris shortly before the Second Crusade, in 1140 A.D., and pleaded for his suzerain, *Phillip II, to recognize his claim and ascribe him the titles, rights and lands of Toulouse, but the King outright refused and even insulted him. Unsatisfied, he appealed to the Bishop of Paris, Stephen of Senlis [Etiénne de Senlis], but this one, of a cowardly and deferential disposition, believing that this would antagonize Phillip, produced a legal argument against William’s claim: that the Salic Law prevented matrilineal inheritance, and thus sustained that he could not pretend to any lands that might have pertained to his mother, even if de suo jure. Infuriated, Duke William reneged his promise of joining the King’s Crusade under his banner, a reason by which he almost faced excommunication. A pilgrimage to Rome dressed as a penitent, coupled with a hefty donation to the Holy See, however, prevented the Papal condemnation.

    After returning from Italy, the Duke appealed to the one ecclesiastic authority that he believed was above the Parisian clergy, the Archbishop of Lyon. Ever since the age of the Roman Empire, the dignitary of former Lugdunum was recognized as the “Primate of the Gauls” - a status which had been ratified in the Council of Clermont, the same one where Pope Urban II had summoned the First Crusade. Then, to the surprise of many French prelates, including the Archbishop of Sens, Amadeus of Lyon [Amédée de Lyon], actually recognized the Aquitanian claim in late 1141 A.D., in spite of the fact that the feudal disputes were often disregarded as questions beyond the canonical jurisdiction. The episode provoked a scandal among the French clergy, with some, most notably the prelates of Paris and Orléans, arguing that Amadeus might have been bribed or corrupted by the Aquitanian prince, and they immediately took the matter to the Pope.

    Nonetheless, the Duke of Aquitaine, having given the Count of Toulouse, Alfonso-Jordan, an ultimatum to surrender Toulouse and the subordinated fiefs, declared war to press his own claim, and this he did in early 1142 A.D., during winter season. The Count of Toulouse had only recently returned from Santiago of Compostela, and was surprised by the aggression. By then, he had become the undisputed master of the region between the Pyrenees, and held the western parts of Provence in his capacity as Marquis of Provence, while Raymond Berengar of Barcelona held the other parts as Count of Provence. He had seized the Viscounty of Narbonne eight years before, in the pretext of ruling it during the minority of Viscountess Ermengarde, but had yet to relinquish the rule.

    The war was a quick one; the Provençals, surprised by William’s rapid maneuvers, offered almost no resistance, and were routed by William’s larger army in the outskirts of Toulouse. After reducing the castles of the Garonne valley, in the span of a single season, he maintained the siege and stormed the stronghold of Toulouse itself, while Alfonso-Jordan was mustering his levies and retinues in Carcassone [Carcassona], together with his vassal, Raymond I Trencavel. When Alfonso-Jordan retaliated, he failed to take Toulouse, but William, seemingly satisfied with the outcome, did not venture beyond the occupied territory, and even sent envoys to Narbonne, Montpellier and Arles to reaffirm their own rights.

    By the time the royal army of King *Phillip II returned from the Outremer, the Duke of Aquitaine had consolidated the rule over Toulouse, and Alfonso-Jordan pleaded for the monarch’s intervention. Phillip gave William an ultimatum, demanding the return of Toulouse to the Provençal vassal, but he made no advance to enforce it until late 1148 A.D., having disbanded his exhausted army as soon as they returned to their homeland.

    Now, when Phillip II did went to war with William, to restore status quo between Aquitaine and Toulouse, he concentrated his campaigning efforts in the heavily fortified regions of Poitou and Limousin. The fact that he claimed some victories by reducing a few castles in the Loire valley served him little, because William’s vassals, many of which had either been too enfeebled by his retaliation, or too favored by the spoils of the conquest of Toulouse, remained loyal to him. The King did never try to retake Toulouse itself, while Alfonso-Jordan, having been expelled from Narbonne by Viscountess Ermengarde in 1144 A.D., decided to plead for a truce with the Aquitanians.

    The war came to an end not by King Phillip’s volition, but rather due to the timely intervention of the Papacy, stirred by Archbishop Amadeus of Lyon. An armistice was imposed between the warring magnates, but to Phillip’s surprise and indignation, the Lateran Palace recognized the Aquitanian claim over Toulouse - meaning that the monarch’s prerogative of arbitrating disputes between the feudal lords was, for the first time in recorded History, overruled by the Church.

    As part of the terms of the truce enforced by the Holy See, both the Duke of Aquitaine and the dispossessed Count of Toulouse agreed to join in a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, in another example of the “trucial crusades”. Its popular name at the time was “Crusade of Saint Didier”, because it was supposedly blessed by this one, the patron saint of Moissac.


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    Contemporary depiction of Duke William X of Aquitaine and Count Alfonso of Toulouse in the "Chronica Ducis Williamus Aquitannorum"

    Due to the fact that they were not going actually to war in the Outremer, but rather to visit the holy places, both Duke William and Count Alfonso restricted the numbers of adherents of their respective corteges. Nobles, from barons to bound-knights, were expected to afford their own expenses, and donations from monasteries were supposed to make for the travels of their own canons regular and of impoverished parochians. Among commoners and villeins, only burghers, merchants and craftsmen could pay for the expenses, and, even them, it were usually the wealthier of their own villages. During the preparations for the pilgrimage, Empress Matilda was universally lauded in the Catholic realms for providing funds to allow for the participation of destitute yeomen from the hinterland of Poitou and Saintonge, and, for this act, she would eventually become a cherished character in the Aquitanian troubadour literature. Centuries later, she would become a revered personage in folkloric cycles of the Matter of Aguyenne, usually described as a saintly and wise queen who provides alms to the poor.

    The pilgrimage was indeed a peaceful one, and held no military significance whatsoever, in spite of an initial promise by Duke William of Aquitanian and Gascon troops to join in a Crusade against the Fatimids in Egypt, an idea of which Archbishop Suger was not really supportive, seeing the Earthly Kingdom attempt to regain its prosperity after years of consecutive military endeavors.

    The dispossessed Count of Toulouse, after visiting the River Jordan - where he had been baptized, more than four decades before - went to Nazareth and to Bethlehem, and from there to the court of his great-nephew Raymond II, in Caesarea, where he enjoyed the Oriental idyll for a month before sailing back to Europe, bringing a captive animals from the fringes of Syria and Persia, such as a lion, a bear and exotic birds, as well as various relics, which he gifted to the churches of Avignon and Orange.

    The Guyennan pilgrims, on the other hand, followed the Archbishop in a more complex itinerary, visiting almost all of the Levantine emporia, as well as Damascus and Balbac. In Acre, Duke William confirmed Bernard-William of Montpellier [Bernard-Guilhèm de Montpelhièr], as the sole inheritor of the fiefs, vassal to the County of Beirut. Then, he saw his infant son, Henry of Saintes [Enric de Xainctes] be formally invested in the referred County by Archbishop Suger. From there, they voyaged to Antioch by sea, and then overland across Asia Minor to Constantinople, once again, by ship, this time crossing the Aegean back to Italy.

    Their pilgrimage did make quite an impression in the local Levantine communities. Duke William’s display of opulence and magnanimity towards the local monasteries and churches would be remembered in the decades to come, more specifically the fact that he donated a thousand Moorish dinars plundered from Hispania to the Archdiocese of Jerusalem and to the Templarians, as they had recently established a commandery in Saintes. Alfonso-Jordan, on the other hand, financed the construction of a new Benedictine monastery in the Jordan valley, which would be established by Provençal monks from Arles.



    III. The Pilgrimages of Saint George and of Saint Margaret


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    Non-contemporary depiction of King William III of England served by his father Henry in the banquet after the coronation that acceded him as co-king (c. 1200)


    In 1150 A.D., not long after her return from the Outremer, Empress Matilda went to England, and visited the court of her brother, King *William III, and set across the land in the company of Theobald of Bec, the Archbishop of Canterbury, to spread the word, to the aristocrats and peasants alike, about the joys of "to adore the Lord in the lands where He had throd His feet". According to Theobald's own report, the pious Empress dowager shared the worries of the many prelates of England about the fact that the races of Britain had never endeavored to undertake the most exalted expedition to the Holy Land. While she could hardly forget that her uncle Robert Curthose had been one of the lieutenants of the First Crusade, his army was mostly of Norman stock, and thus they saw that the English people as a whole lacked any meaningful participation in the Crusades. Indeed, her father Henry had spent the better part of his reign at war with his own brothers, Robert included, but also William Clito, and also with the French kings, and with the Welsh, and even in his late years he did not show much of an interest in taking the cross.

    *William III, called “Adelin” before the accession, was more concerned with affairs of non-military nature, even more in the recent years, after he suffered a disastrous defeat against Owain Gwynedd, the self-proclaimed King of Wales, in the battle of Rhuddlan, in 1148, in which he was imprisoned and forced to relinquish recent conquests by the English Marcher Lords, and thus almost provoked a baronial rebellion.

    While some modern scholars argue that Matilda could care less about Crusading, and that she was actually a convenient figurehead used by the Anglo-Norman clergy to further their own agenda, the fact remains that she traversed through various provinces of the Kingdom of England, from London to Winchester, and from there to Gloucester, and northwards to Chester and from there to York, and did seem to kindle the flames of Crusadist fervor in her home country. She was accompanied by King William, by her youngest son, also named Theobald, and an entourage of Angevin and Saintois aristocrats and canons.

    Archbishop Theobald’s chronicle of their travels, despite being the only available source of the period, is not the most reliable one, because it intersects mundane episodes with otherworldly apparitions and fantastic episodes, such as the meeting of Duchess Matilda and King William with a Cumbrian giant who converted to Christianity and agreed to go to Jerusalem, or their finding of the mantle of Saint Joseph of Arimathea in the outskirts of Bristol.

    Their voyage to the north led them to the court of Scotland, in Perth, where Matilda and William were welcomed by their maternal uncle, King David I of the Scots, who, in spite of his very advanced age, showed a surprising enthusiasm for the idea of setting to the Outremer as a pilgrim, and even provisioned, in his testament, for the Scottish lords to take his embalmed heart to be buried in Jerusalem after his death. David had grown as a hostage in King Henry’s court, and, after becoming King of Scotland, in 1124 A.D., imported many of the English and Norman institutions and legal frameworks back to his own home kingdom. By 1150, shortly before his death, Scotland had become more similar to England, with a relatively centralized state, with the various feudal magnates and clans brought into the royal sphere after he had spent the better part of the 1120s and 1130s warring to consolidate his kingship. Now that the kingdom saw a long period of peace, with the Cumbrians vassalized and the Norwegians in the Orkneys submitted, the Scottish equestrian class was eager for new wars to prove their valor and to increase their fortunes.

    Thus, we see, after the pacification and feudalization of Scotland, and the impediment of English advance into Wales by the efforts of Owain Gwynedd, why many minor noblemen from England and Scotland adhered to the so-called “Crusade of Saint George” (to the English) or the “Crusade of Queen Margaret” (to the Scots), together with commoners, peasants and burghers, in early 1152 A.D. Similar to the Aquitanian and Provençal one, this was but a pilgrimage, with little military personnel, and, in spite of the popular denomination of “Crusade”, it was only sanctioned by Pope Stephen X after it was already in undertaking. It was not exactly a “pauper’s crusade”, because most of its participants had their own means to travel, or were individuals financed by whole communities to undertake the pilgrimage by proxy, a phenomenon called “scutage peregrination”.

    The English company departed from Canterbury, led by Theobald himself in the spring of 1152 A.D. After disembarking in Antwerp, where they rendezvoused with Theodorich of Flanders, who desired once again to go to the Holy Land, they went overland through the Via Francigena to Italy, and from Ancona they crossed the Adriatic into Greece, as thousands had done before them. In the fulfillment of a treaty assumed with late Pope Victor IV, the Basileus, having committed to support Latin pilgrims and crusaders, furnished transport ships to bring the pilgrims from Thessalonica directly to Tortosa, and from there they went overland to Jerusalem, arriving in the end of the year. Theobald himself perished in the travels, stricken with malaria while in Italy, but his protégé and future Archbishop-elect of Canterbury, Thomas of London, assumed the leadership of the pilgrimage together with Reginald FitzRoy, Earl of Cornwall (one King Henry’s bastard sons). They departed in the first week of 1153 A.D., by the same way they came, but hundreds of them would die in a shipwreck near Crete. After he was elevated as the Primate of England, Archbishop Thomas Beckett beatified all those who died, and the stone tablet containing the names of various dead pilgrims is even today a popular spot of visitation in the pilgrimages to Canterbury.

    The Scottish column, on the other hand, departed in the later part of spring of 1152 A.D., because they, numbering a few hundred, sailed directly from Renfrew, led by Walter FitzAlan, the Steward of the Kingdom, and by Herbert of Selkirk, Bishop of Glasgow. Their first stop was in Leinster, where they joined with an Irish group led by Dermot MacMurrough [Diarmait Mac Murchada], the King of Leinster. They found safe harbors in the western coast of Hispania, where they received by the self-proclaimed King of Portugal, Alfonso, in Porto, but, seeing that they might face aggression in the Islamic cities of al-Andalus, they sailed into the Mediterranean and only stopped in Tarragona. Surprisingly, they were later welcomed by the Muslim prince Muhammad ibn Ganiya in the Baleares, the last Almoravid scion, who had been deposed by the Moroccan Almohads and even tried to coopt the Christians to fight Hispania as his mercenaries. While the Scots refused and continued their voyage, the Irish King of Leinster accepted the deal, and would later on be slain in battle, with his many compatriots, while attempting to take Valencia from the Almohads.

    The remaining pilgrims arrived in Jerusalem in late 1152, and for a brief period rendezvoused with the English ones, spending Christmas in Jerusalem. They would return to their distant islands by the same way they arrived, bringing a (supposed) piece of the True Cross, which nowadays adorns the palace of Scone.



    ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


    Notes and comments: the Henricians and Petrobrusians were real heresies of the period. I might have perhaps understated their extent and influence, especially because Henry of Lausanne spent many years as an itinerant preacher in southern France before being imprisoned in Toulouse. Considering that there is a LOT already happening in the region in the period, I figured that, given the circumstances, he might have gone further to the north, or remained in a strong base in the region of modern Switzerland.

    William X of Aquitaine really existed, but IOTL he died prematurely in the very first pilgrimage he did to Santiago of Compostela. ITTL, considering my already well-known intent of exploring a more relevant Aquitaine in the grand scheme of European geopolitics, I opted to give him a longer live (in this case, I believe that his obscure death, likely of illness, could have easily been avoided if he lived in different circumstances). In his case, I might have perhaps exaggerated the extent of his power, considering that the Dukes of Aquitaine were known for their weakness and lack of control over their vassals. This is why I went to explain in some detail how he might have consolidated the Ducal rule over his various vassals. Even beyond that, the fact that his eldest son, also named William, and his other two fictional sons will all survive into adulthood, this means that Aquitaine is never incorporated into the Angevin "Empire", while Toulouse will avoid falling into the Capetian Royal domain.

    Alfonso-Jordan is also historical, and even here his life is not unsimilar to what happened IOTL, for he did actually go to the Outremer during the historical Second Crusade, and died in there. ITTL he does returns to Europe, but will never recover his ancestral domain in Toulouse. With time, his dynasty will lose relevance in the continent, but might remain significant in the alt-Jerusalem, similar to what happened, IOTL, to the Lusignans and the Hautevilles.

    William and Matilda's marriage is a fictional one, as is Eleanor and Geoffrey Plantagenet's (we recently had a thread here about this). I figured that, if William Adelin survived, being married to the House of Anjou, there would be no incentive for Matilda to marry Geoffrey, but rather someone of a higher standing, and William seemed like the perfect candidate, while he himself would be interested in marrying into the Angevin house for the reasons above explained.

    The English, Scottish and Irish pilgrimages here depicted are wholly fictional, but all the characters mentioned are historical. Excepting William Adelin and Empress Matilda, however, none of them will any other relevance in TL. Thomas Becket's martyrdom will most certainly be butterflied away, considering that OTL Henry II will not exist. Rest assured, the continuation of the House of Normandy in the English throne might spell interesting possibilities for their History, considering that their interests will be always focused in preserving their continental holdings in Normandy, unlike the Plantagenets, who had plenty of other stuff to be concerned about.

    Finally, it is worth mentioning that at the time Margaret of Scotland had yet to be canonized, but, considering that she was elevated to sainthood less than a century after her death, I figured that among the Scottish she might have cherished local adoration, and thus I maintained the idea that she is (even if undeclared as of now) a saint.
     

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    57. The Pontiff Between the Empires (1150 - 1155 A.D.)
  • 57. THE PONTIFF BETWEEN TWO EMPIRES



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    Non-contemporary detail of a fresco depicting Pope Stephen X (Bernard of Clairvaux), c. 1350, Cathedral of Spoleto


    I. The New Pope and the Emperor of the Occident


    Pope Victor IV, whose reputation has been vindicated by both modern and medieval scholars as a principled and sanctimonious Pontiff, in his final years of life did take ill-advised decisions that jeopardized the relations between the apostolic see and the most powerful kingdoms of the time, which were France and the [Holy] Roman Empire.

    Much like various of his predecessors, he was very concerned not only with spiritual and institutional well being of the flock of God, and of the Holy Church, but also with temporal and political questions, firmly believing that the Papacy held (or should hold) supremacy and even suzerainty over the lay crowned princes, and, beyond that, in his capacity as the Primate of Italy, he had to further the interests of the Dominium Ecclesiasticum - the State of the Catholic Church.

    While the Investiture Controversy had been more or less solved by the Concordat of Worms, and some Popes accepted the modus vivendi with the Kings of the Romans, during Victor’s pontificate, the Holy See incited contention with the ruling Emperor, *Henry VI [Welf], regarding the ownership of the territories that comprised the “Matildine Lands”. These were the collection of fiefs that had belonged to the long deceased Tuscan noblewoman, Matilda of Canossa, and included the whole of Tuscany and Spoleto, as well as allodial lands and estates in Umbria and in Emilia. Victor claimed that the Gran Condessa, in her deathbed, had granted these lands to Gregory VII, and thus they had been incorporated into the “Patrimony of Saint Peter”. As it happened, however, these fiefs had been enfeoffed by the deceased Emperor Lothair II to Henry “the Proud”, then Duke of Bavaria. The Bavarian prince, even before attaining the Imperial crown, refused their abdication and denied any sort of territorial claim of the Ecclesiastic State upon them, asserting that they had actually been incorporated into his dynasty’s own patrimony because his elder brother and predecessor in the Duchy of Bavaria, Welf II, had been married to Matilda, and outlived her.

    The Pope, even if resented from the Welf apparent hegemony in Italy - besides the Matildine Lands, they also controlled the Margraviate of Milan, which had pertained to the Obertenghi, the family of which the Welfs branched from, and had secured by marriage the allegiance of the Aleramici of Montferrat and of the Spanheims in Verona and Carinthia -, had little actual military or political projection, and thus acted through proxies. Soon after the German princes returned to Europe after the Second Crusade, Victor IV made overtures to the recently enthroned Frederick III of Swabia, known as “Red-Beard” [Rotbart]. Pro-Welf sources go as far as claiming that Victor incited the Swabians to rebellion, but this is dubious; in any case, he did support Frederick when he, allied to the disgruntled aristocracy of Lorraine and northern Saxony, led an insurgence against Henry of Bavaria after Emperor Lothair II died, in an attempt to force him to relinquish his inheritance of the Duchy of Saxony - arguing that he could not become Emperor if he held two stem duchies of the realm simultaneously.

    This new war in Germany would last two years, but, until the final triumph of the Imperial force, the turbulence inspired another rebellion, this time in Romagna, whose Lombard noblemen resented the German suzerainty over the March of Verona and were favorable to the Pope. They, however, did little military advances, and Pope Victor IV, who had expected to count with the alliance of his nominal vassal, the Norman Duke of Sicily, Roger II, saw himself abandoned, because the Sicilians were all concerned with their recent conquest of Africa, and with the incursions of the Greek navy in Apulia. The Pope dropped his pretenses when a combined German, Milanese and Tuscan force led by Henry of Ravensburg, the Emperor's son, then installed as Imperial Vicar ruling the Margraviate of Milan, marched into Romagna and bloodily quenched the insurgence. Afterwards, Victor IV begrudgingly crowned Henry VI, until then only acknowledged as King of Germany, as [Holy] Roman Emperor.

    Now, in regards to the Kingdom of France, relations became uneasy by the outcome of the so-called “Toulousain question”, which, as we have described and said in the previous chapter, resulted in the annexation of the commonwealth of Toulouse by the Duke of Aquitaine, William X. While Pope Victor IV never actually endorsed the aggression against Toulouse - he did impose a treaty of trucial pilgrimage in an effort to cement the Christian fraternity between the belligerent princes -, he injudiciously ratified the intervention of the Archbishop of Lyon that recognized the Aquitanian claim, and maintained the premise that the Holy Church could indeed decide over territorial disputes among feudal lords. The Pope desired to reaffirm the papal jurisdiction as being above the royal one, but this incautious policy strained the relations not only with the Parisian Crown, but also with the French church in general, because many Metropolitans, such as the Archbishops of Rheims, of Orléans, of Sens and of Tours, as well as the Provençal ones affiliated to Alfonso-Jordan, like as the Archbishops of Arles and Narbonne, aghast by the act of the Primate of the Gauls and by the voidment of the King’s legal and jurisdictional authority, openly criticized the Pope’s upholding of the latter’s decision. Indeed, the French ecclesiastic doctors maintained that the matters of territorial disputes and inheritance of the lay noblemen were submitted to the authority of the crowned monarch, anointed by God.

    Preoccupied with a possible schism, and knowing that King Phillip’s temperament might inspire him to exact retaliation against the ecclesiastic assets and possessions in France, Bernard of Clairvaux and Peter of Montboissier, respectively the Abbots of Citeaux and Cluny, pleaded for the Archbishop of Rheims to propose to the Pope the assembling of another ecumenical council - the third one in Victor’s pontificate - to solve the controversy. And this he did, after receiving a delegation led by Peter and by Phillip’s brother Louis, the Archbishop of Orléans, summoning the Synod of Lyon in 1150 A.D.

    In one of these haphazard happenstances of History, however, Pope Victor IV died in Mâcon, while en route, of a fever that he contracted during the descent from the Alps, likely a severe case of pneumonia.

    With the synod already underway, and various metropolitans, bishops, monks and dignitaries of France, Brittany, Burgundy, Aquitaine, Toulouse, Provence, and also England, Flanders and both Lorraines, and those who came from Bavaria and from the realms of Italy, decided it was an opportunity good enough for them to elect the new Pontiff among the ones present, with the blessing of the cardinals that had accompanied Victor to France, perhaps believing that in this way they could obtain a victory in detriment of the prelates that deigned to come to the council.

    To not a few persons’ surprise, the one elected, not by unanimity, but by an impressive majority, was Bernard of Clairvaux himself, who had been chosen as a spokesman of the monasteries in the synod. While details of the election are obscure, we can infer that Bernard’s election, with a majority of votes from the French clergy, owed no little to the influence of the Archbishop Louis of Orléans, as well as of the Abbots Peters of Montboissier and Norbert of Xanten, who presented Bernard as a satisfactory compromise candidate in between the metropolitans of the Francias - who would not suffer one another as the Pope-elect -, and as a counterpoint to the Roman and Lombard prelates, to further the interests of the French clergy in the Lateran Palace. Bernard was, by all accounts, an accomplished and passionate orator, and might have greatly impressed his contemporaries, even those of the highest echelons of the ecclesiastic hierarchy, and so one might wonder if the churchmen did elect him by inspiration of the Holy Spirit...

    ******​

    The tenth Successor of the Apostles to adopt the name of “Stephen” - in homage to the first Christian martyr; one particularly revered in Burgundy, where Bernard was born -, his pontificate was fated to be short in years, but very relevant in the history of medieval Christendom, owing to his dedicated attempts of promoting communion between the occidental and oriental churches, an effort that, while ultimately failed, would strengthen the relations between the Papacy and Rhōmanía. In staunch opposition to many of his predecessors, Stephen X reasoned that the Holy Church was an institution situated above the temporal realms, and had to be concerned with the spiritual questions and institutional fabric of the Christian kingdoms, so that they might be united into a single commonwealth, that he commonly called “greges Dei” [flock of God], and not with political issues.

    A rare example of election by acclamation, the elevation of Pope Stephen X was perhaps one of the most democratic ones in the recent age, considering that it involved hundreds of clergymen from various distinct nations. The previous Pope to be elected in such a way had been Pope Gregory VII, who was acclaimed by the denizens of the Eternal City not long after the passing of his predecessor.

    Nonetheless, the event provoked a serious contention with the Romans of Latium, whose cardinal-bishops and lay aristocrats - especially those who had not participated in the synod - argued that the proceeding had completely disregarded the provisions of the In nomine Domini” bull of 1059 A.D., issued by Pope Nicholas II, that defined various aspects of Papal election, such as the convening of an assembly of the cardinal-bishops. They also argued that the Pope had to be selected with the consent of the clergy and the laity of the Diocese of Rome, as the ancient customs dictated - even if in practice, by the middle of the 12th Century, the Pontiffs had been solely selected by the cardinal-bishops from among their own ranks. That Bernard was French and was not a member of the formal apostolic hierarchy, but rather a territorial abbot, were not formal impeditives to his election, but these circumstances most certainly inspired the Romans to refuse to acknowledge him and to elect their own candidate. It was Gregory of Suburra [Gregorio della Suburra], who adopted the name of Paschal III, nowadays recognized as an antipope. Upon acceding, Paschal denounced Stephen’s accession on various arguments of legal nature, and went as far as denying juridical validity to the synod convened, considering that it had not been presided by the former Pope.

    Pope Stephen knew that it would not be sensible to voyage to Italy, considering that Paschal very much likely would secure the control over the city of Rome and of the Lateran Palace. The matter was not only ecclesiastical, but also political, and thus he resolved to find allies to sustain his pretense among the lay princes of the Occident. From Lyon, he immediately went to Paris, and obtained King *Phillip II’s support by formally revoking Archbishop Amadeus’ decision that recognized the Aquitanian claim over Toulouse. This would rekindle the flames of war between the King of the Franks and the Duke of Aquitaine, but, in the long run, it did little to change the status quo, because the Aquitanians would maintain the military occupation over Toulouse for decades to come.

    From Paris, the Pope-elect set out to Aachen, where he interviewed with King *Henry VI, and confirmed his coronation as Roman Emperor and even crowned his firstborn son Henry of Ravensburg co-monarch as King of the Romans, thus ensuring his succession. Stephen, while in Germany, convinced Frederick of Swabia to accept a truce, and he was pardoned for his rebellion, but acknowledged the Welf claim to the Imperial Crown. It is true that he would rebel again in a few years, after the death of *Henry VI, but he would this time see a decisive defeat by the hands of his son, known to History as Emperor *Henry VII “the Lion”.

    After obtaining the recognition by the crowned princes of France and Germany, as well as of England, Poland, León and other nations, Stephen X finally voyaged to Rome, followed by a large aggregation of metropolitans, bishops and abbots, and also barons and dignitaries, such as Agnes of Babenberg, Duchess of Poland and Silesia, from various kingdoms, and by the heralds and vicars of the Roman Emperor. He was accompanied by a host led by Henry the Lion and Marquis William V of Montferrat [Guglielmo V di Monfrà], who intended to install him in Rome by force of arms, and to oust the usurper Paschal III.

    As it happened, however, Stephen entered Rome with only a handful of followers, and, by his sheer presence, virtuousness and oratory, convinced Paschal to capitulate and abdicate, thus resuming his position as cardinal-bishop, without raising arms and even convinced the citizens of Rome to accept him as the legitimate Pope.

    He was then crowned and enthroned in Christmas’ Eve of 1150 A.D.


    II. The Arbiter of Realms

    If before, as a Frenchman and as a shepherd of the French flock, Bernard of Clairvaux was well concerned with the tragedies and calamities that befell his kindred, now that he was the Supreme Pontiff, he saw them with utmost preoccupation.

    Indeed, the old Kingdom of France was in a state of violent turmoil ever since the fall of the Carolingians. The grandees of the realm had grown powerful and arrogant, and exsanguinated the pleasurable lands of Gaul with fratricide wars throughout successive generations, and many of them disrespected the authority and the belongings of the Holy Church. In the days of Stephen X, we see that the Angevins, lords of Anjou, Tourainne and Maine, digladiated with the princes of Brittany and with the Dukes of Normandy, who were now also the Kings of England and enemy to the Count of Flanders, who had his own interests in Picardy; the Count of Champagne and Blois often warred with the Dukes of Burgundy and the Counts of Nevers; the Counts of Bourbon and Berry were mutual enemies and constantly warred with Auvergne and Limousin. In the south, the weakness of the Dukes of Aquitaine that had preceded William X had welcomed generations of feudal autarchy between the various counts and viscounts of the lands south of the Loire, and the state of war was perpetual.

    Now, King *Phillip II of France, irate by the interference of the Archbishop of Lyon in what he believed to be his royal prerogatives to arbitrate the disputes between the vassals, had marched against the Duke of Aquitaine to oblige him to cede the occupied estates and castles that belonged to the Count of Toulouse, Alfonso-Jordan. In the end, as aforementioned, the campaign would end in a stalemate, but the hostilities between William of Aquitaine and Phillip would remain exacerbated until the death of the former one, but the wars between the dynasts of Poitou and the Capetians would become frequent over for the remainder of the 12th Century.

    Although Pope Stephen had recognized the distinction between the ecclesiastical and feudal jurisdictions, and affirmed that they were submitted to specific legal regimes and customs, he did not sanction acts of war or violence between Christians, and thus he denounced King Phillip’s aggressions against Aquitaine, even if they had a valid pretext in solving the Toulousain matter. Indeed, Phillip had marched to war a few seasons after he returned from the Second Crusade, and campaigned in Poitou and the Loire valley, with little result. After Duke William X and Count Alfonso-Jordan went to the Outremer, in a trucial pilgrimage, as we have seen in the previous chapter, the King organized an expedition to the Garonne valley and put Toulouse to siege, but gave it up after a few months, when he found no support among the local aristocrats, and after King William III of England went with an army to Normandy to secure his rights in Vexin. Even worse, for attacking the territory of a nobleman who was committed to a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, he suffered an interdict from Pope Stephen, and was almost excommunicated - the second time in a few years, which might have infuriated Phillip even more, since he believed that a French Pope would be compliant to royal interests in his own homeland. These circumstances also put him at odds with the Welf Emperor *Henry VI, who felt the campaigns to the south threatened the Imperial dominion over Provence and the Rhone valley. Then, after Duke William returned to Europe from the Outremer, King Phillip issued another formal declaration of war, and this time he marched to Saintes, and razed the Ducal lands with such a violence that even the clergy of France were left appalled, and this tarnished the image of the former Crusader king as a gallant and chivalrous prince.

    In the end, the campaigns did little to change what seemed to be a faît accompli. Duke William, by occupying Toulouse and the comital demesne, and securing the allegiance of the Viscountess of Narbonne and of the Bishop of Rodez, Peter II [Péire/Pierre], consolidated his rule over the region, but, having failed to obtain the support of various other nobles of Septimania, such as the Count of Rodez, the Viscount of Carcassone and Béziers, of the House of Trencavel, and the lords of Montpellier and Provence proper - which remained loyal to their lieges, Alfonso-Jordan and Raymond-Berenguer of Barcelona -, did not unleash further military operations.

    After the third campaign, Pope Stephen succeeded in bringing the belligerent parts to the table of negotiations in 1155 A.D., and it resulted in the cessation of hostilities. With the blessing and arbitration of a Papal embassy, Duke William X of Aquitaine was confirmed as the ruling Count of Toulouse, and, accordingly, swore fealty to King Phillip, but, on the other hand, Alfonso-Jordan was recognized as the liege-lord over the fiefs of the defunct principality of Gothia. After his passing, in 1160, King Phillip II, seeking to preserve the loyalty of the House of Toulouse, granted Alfonso’s son and heir Raymond the title of Duke of Septimania - to compensate for the loss of Toulouse, thus repristinating a regional name that had mostly faded since the 10th Century A.D., a dignity that would be maintained by King Hugh II of France, Phillip’s successor.

    The disputes between the Houses of Poitiers and the dispossessed House of Toulouse would persist for generations to come, as would those between them and the Kings in Paris and them and the Counts of Barcelona, but we will see that the various fiefs of the region of Languedoc, formerly known as Gothia or Septimania, will eventually be coalesced and consolidated under the political fabric of the realms of Aquitaine and of Aragon, fated to become the masters of the western Mediterranean.


    III. The (Fifth) Ecumenical Council of Constantinople


    In the early years of Stephen’s pontificate, he requested the presence and then welcomed the coming of many ecclesiastic dignitaries associated with the Greek, the Syriac and the Armenian realms of Christendom. At the time, even if it was rare for someone from the intellectual European elites to affirm that Christianity had indeed fragmented in various “Churches”, because there was still a idealized concept of a single and whole Christian community (“ecumene”) - specially in contrast with other religious worldviews, such as the Islamic and the Jewish ones - there were enough differences in doctrinal consensus to justify the acceptance of distinct rites and theological premises. These peculiarities -, all of which orbited around the different interpretations of the “Word of God” and of the nature of Christ’s divinity and humanity, among other aspects of the central doctrine -, were, of course, very much grounded in various mundane aspects of reality, such as culture and linguistics, and politics and social organization. Thus, for example, the roles that the Papacy played in western Christendom during Stephen’s age can only be comprehended in the context of the feudal collapse of the Romano-Germanic monarchies that had carved the corpse of the occidental Roman Empire, and the same can be seen in regards to the Greek Emperor and his relations with the Orthodox Patriarchates, all while the Oriental Christian communities developed in an increasingly Islamic-dominated Asia.

    Pope Stephen was acutely aware of this reality. While he dreamed of restoring the Church to the idealized figure of its character in the Apostolic Age, he knew that he ought to assuage the grievances and discrimination of political and cultural nature that prevented full communion. The task would be herculean, he knew, and there were various ecumenical councils across the centuries, ever since Antiquity, to define the core aspects of Christian orthodoxy, but, even then, various doctrines and interpretations became the ones accepted, and, while some of them were universally or majoritarily denounced as heresies, such as Arianism and Nestorianism, others were reciprocally tolerated. Indeed, there were differences enough between the Catholic and Greek Orthodox doctrines, but they both accepted the Chalcedonian premise of dyophysitism, while the Oriental doctrines, such as the Syriac, Armenian and Coptic, rejected that premise, and incorporated myaphysitism (or monophysitism), among other differences related to the rituals and ceremonies, ecclesiastic structure and relations between the clergy and the laity.

    In 1153 A.D., an embassy from the Roman See met with Patriarch Theodotus II of Constantinople, and with Emperor John II Komnenos, and proposed the assembling of another ecumenical council, this one involving the prelates from the whole of Christendom - or, at least, those associated with the Latin monarchies and with Rhōmanía. The emissaries brought letters from the highest Catholic eminence himself, and, fortunately for the chroniclers of History, these documents survived. With elegance and eloquence, the Pope bestows particular praise and commendation to the Basileus, describing him as the most stalwart champion of Christendom against the infidel usurpers of the dioceses of Asia. Much as John II enjoyed an universally favorable reputation among his Christian (and even Islamic) contemporaries, superior even to that of the other Komnenoi Emperors, the Lateran missives go to great length to appreciate and acclaim his role in the Crusades and in the reconquest of the holy cities. It seems, however, that while the Rhōmaiōn Basileus is seemingly acknowledged as the paramount temporal authority over the races of Asia, he is implicitly placed below the Pope’s own position as the Vicar of Christ. This, in turn, was a premise strange enough to the Emperor, who was but the last representative of a long lineage of monarchs that, for centuries, had effectively dominated the Bishops of Rome, long before the rise of the Carolingians, and claimed to be the primarchs over the whole of Christendom by their virtues as successors of the ancient Roman heritage.

    In any event, by the Pope’s own suggestion, the synod was to be gathered in Nova Roma [Constantinople], and so the Emperor decided to embrace the opportunity, being as concerned with theological controversies as the Pope himself, and, perhaps, seeing a political advantage in presenting himself once again as the overlord above the various Christian communities, notably the Jacobite and Maronite Syriac ones, and the Armenian. He thus agreed to provide the facilities and means for the undertaking to be accomplished.

    By the way of his subordinate and friend, Archbishop Suger of Jerusalem, Stephen contacted and invited various prelates politically submitted to the Crusader State, the various Syriac bishops from Palestine, Lebanon and Syria, as well as the few Armenian ones living in the Latin Principality. And those living in the boundaries of the Rhōmaîon Empire, mostly Armenians, and fewer Syriacs, were invited by the Patriarch of Constantinople, as were the Bulgarians, the Serbians, the Albanians and the Rus’. In the case of the Syriacs, their position was a very uncomfortable one, because, while they only acknowledged the authority of the (native) Patriarchate of Antioch, be them Jacobites or Maronites, they were politically submitted the Crusaders of Jerusalem and to the Greeks of Constantinople.

    ******​

    The gathering was held in the spring of 1155 A.D., in Constantinople, in the palace of Magnaura. This massive building, now linked to the complex of buildings that constituted the Great Palace of the Emperors, for centuries had housed the meetings of the Rhōmaîoi senators, but, when the Senate ceased to be a political institution, and more a class of dignitaries, the Magnaura was appropriated by the Emperors to be used as a throne room or as a place of meetings to receive foreign embassies, and also to host religious celebrations such as the Silention - the eve of Lent. Now, its pristine secluded gardens and marble edifices received the reunion of the ecumenical council, attended more than five hundred bishops from various nations of the civilized world.

    From the Latin realms, we see the presence of the Pope himself, various cardinal-bishops and metropolitan archbishops, including the Archbishop of the Holy Land and the Patriarch of Aquileia, the Primates of the Gauls (Lyon), of All England (Canterbury), of Hispania (Toledo) and of the Germanies (Mainz), and prelates from the Hispanian monarchies, of Hungary, of Poland, of Denmark and various others, from as far as Scotland and Wales.

    From the eastern orthodoxy, affiliated to the Greek rite, we see the Greek Patriarchs of Constantinople, of Antioch and of Jerusalem - representative, thusly, of the majority of the episcopal sees of the ancient “Pentarchy” -, and too the Patriarchs of Bulgaria and Serbia. While they are nominally autocephalous, according to the well-established tradition of the eastern churches, at the time of the Fifth Ecumenical Council, they were politically submitted into the imperial aegis of the Komnenoi, and thus they had to grudgingly accept the paramountcy of the Patriarch of Constantinople. The same was not the case of the primarchs and exarchs of the multiple Ruthenian princedoms, nor of the Armenians, Syriacs and Copts who lived outside Constantinople’s reach, and this perhaps explains why few of them attended to the event.

    Over the course of various days, this numerous assembly debated various topics from rites and formulae, principles of clerical discipline and conduct, Biblical canon and doctrine, based on theological investigations. We can see, but the sheer extension and depth of the debates, that while ample common ground was found between the various religious ideologies, such as the admission of infant baptism, and of the veneration of icons, among other statements which served to reinforce the rejection of Iconoclasm, and other older heresies such as Nestorianism and Arianism, there were various topics of irreconcilable disagreement, which prevented the fulfillment of Pontiff Stephen’s dream of a restoration of the “Great Church”.

    Among the three main topics that had resulted in a schismatic stance between western and eastern Christendom, only one found an approach of compromise in the Fifth Council of Constantinople, and that was the prohibition of unleavened bread in the ceremony of the Eucharist. Indeed, while the Catholics long since admitted its use in any ceremonies, the eastern rites expressly refused its use, because they regarded it as impure, and thus unfit to serve as symbolic substitute of Christ’s body in the rituals. It must be noted that, while the Latin rite came to formally converge with the Greek one in this point, its actual enforcement by the western ecclesiastic institutions would not be initiated for almost two centuries after the council, until the ratification by the Papal bull of 1389 A.D.

    On the other hand, no compromise was found regarding an ancient doctrinal controversy, that was the “filioque clause” of the Roman Catholic canons. Notwithstanding the fact that the traditional Nicene creed, in the diagramation of the relations between the components of the Holy Trinity - an historical theological polemic that resulted in the formation of various schisms and heresies, such as the aforementioned Nestorian and Arian ones -, affirmed that the Holy Spirit derived from God, the Father, alone, the western rituals came to accept that the Holy Spirit came from Christ, the Son, too (filioque meaning “and from the Son”). Beyond a theological controversy, the question had became a political and legal one by the 11th Century, and resulted in the publication of anathemas by the eastern patriarchates against the Catholic rites, which, even in during the council, were not revoked. In spite of some attempts of conciliation, Pope Stephen himself, allied to various primates and archbishops, refused to forsake the filioque formula, arguing that the semantics of Latin language admitted the phrasal construction without any doctrinal affronts. The arguments, however, spiralled in a heated polemic, especially when Patriarch Theodotus reminded about the excommunications issued by his predecessor in the office, Michael Cerularius [Mikhael Keroularios], and the Basileus himself was forced to intervene to pacify the discussions.

    Now, the topic that prevented ultimate agreement and disrupted full communion was, in any case, the issue of “Papal primacy”, that is, the paramountcy and superiority of the Patriarch of Rome above the other Christian hierarchs. In the Occident, at the time, the ecclesiological doctrine was firmly grounded in Biblical interpretation, based on the “Petrine primacy” - that is, the idea that Christ in the Gospels ascribed to Saint Peter the leadership over the Apostles, and, thus, by apostolic succession, this capacity was invested in the Bishop of Rome - and also in politico-legal frameworks, most notably the Donatio Constantini - the Donation of Constantine, a supposed ancient imperial decree that had transferred the authority of the western Roman realms to the Papacy. The question was indeed an old one, and the authenticity of the document was being contested ever since the early 11th Century; in Rhōmanía it was certainly not taken seriously. Its political implications were inadmissible, but it must be said that, at the time, the policy of the Patriarchs of Constantinople devised to, simultaneously (and contradictorily), recognize formally the autocephaly of the other Patriarchates, but also to enforce a de facto position of superiority of the Constantinopolitan See.

    In the end, even if it was not successful in restoring theological communion, we must note that, in what is pertinent to the knowledge of the Crusader Age, the Fifth Ecumenical Council of Constantinople produced an interesting result in that it came to formally acknowledge the Basileus of Constantinople as the highest (temporal) potentate of the Crusades, reason by which, in fact, Pope Stephen bestowed to John Komnenos the honorific “Bearer of the Holy Cross” (Vexillarius Sancta Cruce). We do not know how the elder Basileus received the title, likely being unaccustomed with the idea of being granted an honorific by another authority, but the later Komnenoi welcomed the dignity, and, over the time, came to use it to use as a pretext for their claims of suzerainty over the Holy Land.


    IV. The Emperor of the Orient


    Alexios of the Komnenoi, the great champion of the Crusades, descendant from the Trojan Hector, had vanquished the Turcomans from the heartlands of Asia Minor, restoring the borders of the empire all the way to Cappadocia, up to the Taurus mountains, and including the outer regions of Syria, and made the Armenians in Cilicia vassals to the Empire. Now, his son and heir, had, side by side with the Franks, restored the presence of the legions and magistrates in the whole of western Asia, and expelled the Saracens from the fallen Kingdom of Armenia.

    While the most formidable Turcoman princes had been undone, allowing for the resettlement of the fairest countries of Anatolia, and reoccupied its largest metropolises, such as Ancyra, Amorium, Iconium, and then Caesarea, Sebasteia and as far as Colonea, most of the country had been overrun by the Mahomedan barbarians since the defeat in Manzikert, in 1071 A.D., or by a multitude of local tyrants and warlords, from the races of Anatolia or of Armenia, who made themselves the formerly free subjects of the Emperor abject slaves, and their sons and grandsons had been born and lived without ever seeing the Imperial banners. Before the Second Crusade, a lot of resources and manpower had been devoted to the extirpation of the last remnants of the Turkic warbands, which, while much less numerous and malignant than in previous decades, nonetheless did thwart the transport and trading flows of the Empire between Europe and Asia. With the borders expanded as far as Armenia, the situation was far more complicated, and the army became stretched far too thin.

    The Basileus knew that any further expansionism might threaten the solidity of the whole edifice that was the Empire, and thus he adopted a policy of perpetual war-readiness and constant attrition against hostile polities, notably the Turcoman principalities of Armenia, Mesopotamia, Jaziria and Syria, not unlike his predecessors in the Imperial throne had done, centuries before, against the still vigorous Arabian Caliphates. The dwindling power of the Seljuqs, if on one hand removed the most formidable existential threat against the Empire, on the other hand, left a power vacuum that was soon enough filled by other dedicated enemies, who referred to themselves as ghazi - champions of the faith, and, thus, a grotesque reflection of the Crusaders -, the most notable of which were the warlords of Mosul, Sinjar and Arbil [Erbil], all of them only nominally submitted to the authority of the Caliph in Baghdad, but nonetheless genuinely devoted to the cause of Islam. To attempt their subjugation was an inexecutable endeavor, and thus the Rhōmaîon soldiers crossed the border to raid and to assault enemy territory - many of them were, in fact, Pechenegs or converted Turcomans, well versed in the art of horse archery -, but, at the time, whole expanses of the border regions had long since become uninhabitable no-man’s-lands. Meanwhile, other resources were invested in the construction of castles and strongholds to preserve the territorial integrity of Anatolia against hostile incursions. In this regard, the Latin-Levantine hosts were particularly helpful; now that Palestine, Lebanon and even Transjordania had been mostly pacified, they were launching incursions against Syria and, in the meantime, often employed their arms in the service of the Empire, expecting to acquire plunder and slaves in eastern Armenia and northern Mesopotamia. With time, some of the more adventurous knights, unaffiliated to the Houses of the Outremer, would go as far as Georgia to seek their fortunes.

    For the whole of his reign, John Komnenos had been all too much of a pragmatist, but, late in life, he became seized by the obsession with the supernatural; well beyond the usual concerns of the afterlife that commonly plagued the citizens of Rhōmanía, he was concerned with the mysteries of existence and of the free will, of the netherworld and the heavens, as well as prophecies and presages. Even the Patriarch of Constantinople expressed his unease with the fact that the Porphyrogennētos seemed to consult more often with astrologians and divinators than with the men of the church on the matters of the preternatural, but no one dared question his judgment.

    His religious obsessions might explain why, even in his late years, he became so invested in the mission of bringing the Christian faith to the infidels, and demanded whole conversion to the Pechenegs that came to inhabit the Imperial provinces after their demise in the battle of Levounion, as well to the Cumans who came into his service, to the Turcomans who had been allowed to settle into Anatolia, and even to the Armenians in Cilicia, compelled to accept orthodoxy and to abjure miaphysitism.

    In this regard, John played a significant role in the evangelization of the race of the Cumans, for he sent various embassies, between 1150 and 1160, to their respective monarchs and despots, called khans, to inspire them to convert to Christianity. Before, he was only preoccupied with reaffirming the Rhōmaîon presence in the Tauric peninsula, for it had been lost to these barbarians that they still called “Scythians”, and thus he sent an expedition to occupy Cherson [OTL Sevastopol] and Sougdaia [OTL Sudak], whose people welcomed their reincorporation into the commonwealth, having languished under the tyranny of the nomads. Now, the Theme of Cherson had been restored with a permanent administration, encompassing the whole coastal region, including the ancient citadel of Bosporus [OTL Kerch], now a shadow of its former glory, and the fortress of Tamatarcha [OTL Tmutarakan], after John Komnenos deposed the last of a succession of Slavic client rulers and installed a military force on the region. Seeing no use in a protracted warfare against the Cumans, however, and knowing that their attentions were turned to raiding the Rus’s territories, the Crown of Constantinople devised a careful diplomacy and appeasement towards them, especially to further their commercial interests in the region, especially to harness the trade routes coming from Outer Asia. To counterbalance a potential Cumanian threat, the Rhōmaîoi established treaties of alliance with the Christian Alans that inhabited the realm north of the Caucasus -, prosperous at last, having suffered centuries under the vassalage to the Khazars of old - and reinstated their friendship with the Georgians, who had now become the undisputed masters of eastern Armenia.

    The steppe warlords of Cumania would only come to truly accept the Christian faith in the dawning of the 13th Century, scantly a couple generations before their ultimate destruction by the Cathayans, but, due to the efforts of the third Komnenos Emperor, some of them became already more inclined to admit the authority of the “God of the Cross” as early as 1160s, as attested by Niketas Choniates, who witnessed a baptism of a few Cuman noblemen in the outskirts of Constantinople, at the hands of Patriarch Theodotus II.

    John Komnenos was fated to die in 1155 A.D., the very year of the aforementioned ecumenical council of Constantinople, shortly before his fortieth cycle of his reign. Archbishop Suger of Jerusalem and Prince Raymond were, at the time, in Constantinople, serving as ambassadors from the Crusader State; they participated of his funeral, and, later in the same month of April, of the coronation of his heir and successor, Manuel [Manouēl I Komnēnos] - John’s fourth son, who unexpectedly outlived his three elder brothers, Alexios, Andronikos and Isaac. The acceding Autokrátōr reaffirmed the commitment of his predecessors of respecting the peculiar autonomy of the Crusader State, and of the “Patriarch of Rome” over the lands of Palestine, in exchange for the respect towards the authority of the Greek Patriarchs of Jerusalem and of Antioch, in the Levant and in Syria, respectively, and even pledged to a joint Crusade against Egypt and against Baghdad.


    In next chapter: back to the Outremer. Suger’s death, and the start of the war between the Frankish nobles.



    _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

    Notes and comments: In part one, we see how the political landscape of Italy will be shaped in a different way in comparison from OTL, because while the Hohenstaufen did not have a substantial base in the peninsula (until Frederick II), the Welfs do seem to control a powerful one. I believe that they might consolidate their position in Italy, and thus prevent, at least for the time being, the feudal and urban fragmentation that we saw after the 13th Century.

    In part two, we see the continuation of the previous chapter, with the solution of the Toulousain Question. I’m not sure if it was a sensible one, but I believe the final result was plausible in the context of the TL, and it is not something that might be more odd than anything that happened in the same time period IOTL. Aquitaine is still far from being independent and a powerhouse in the Mediterranean, but, with time, having secured Toulouse, they might accomplish this. Also, its worth pointing out that elections by acclamation did happen, even more in the Middle Ages, but they were sort of rare. It was, nonetheless, a convenient plot device to explain Bernard’s elevation, considering that he was indeed, according to various contemporary sources, a very skilled orator, who almost single-handedly preached the Second Crusade IOTL. Of his personal character, I figured that he might be exactly the sort of individual that would put the interests of the Church and of the Christian community above those of his own kingdom, as he never demonstrated a particular allegiance to the French Crown, in his position as abbot, I’m not sure that he would do it as Pope.

    Louis, Archbishop of Orléans, is OTL King Louis VII of France. Considering that his elder brother Phillip survived to become King in his own right, Louis is given to a Church career, as it was his initial plan.

    In part three, I decided to approach a topic that I thought I’d be avoiding in the TL, that is, the theological distinctions between Catholicism and Orthodoxy. It was worth studying about, and this will be a theme that will be a recurrent one in the TL, considering that, in spite of their political closeness, the Latin West and the Greek East might become more distinct due to their own cultural, social and linguistic peculiarities, and this was the point I was trying to make in the chapter. For the time being, no full communion; the schism continues.

    Finally, part four is a brief conclusion to the arc related to John Komnenos. Considering his role in the TL so far, I figured it would be unfair to mention his death merely en passant, and took the opportunity to give a bit of an insight in his late reign. As you might have noticed, I emphasized the role the Byzantines will have in the future conversion of the Cumans to Christianity, which will happen in different circumstances than IOTL. This will present interesting divergences for us to explore related to the world of the Pontic-Caspian steppes.

    As for Manuel Komnenos, he will have a significant role to play too. I was thinking about butterflying his ascension, and putting his elder brother Isaac Komnenos on the throne, just for us to have a blank slate of an Emperor to work upon. However, I did not find sources about Isaac’s death, which happened in an unknown date, so I decided to just skip to Manuel, continuing OTL succession pattern of the Komnenoi dynasty, even more because I imagine it would be interesting to see how a vigorous and dedicated Emperor such as Manuel would relate to a more powerful and formidable Crusader State in the Middle East...
     
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    58. The Woes of Archbishop Suger in the Earthly Kingdom of God (1155 - 1160 A.D.)
  • THE WOES OF ARCHBISHOP SUGER IN THE EARTHLY KINGDOM OF GOD (1155 - 1160 A.D.)



    Suger.jpg


    Metropolitan Archbishop and Patriarch Suger of Jerusalem. Contemporary depiction in the stained glass of the Cathedral of Saint Denis in Emèse (c. 1180)


    When Suger of St. Denis was invested in the Metropolitan Archbishopric and Roman Patriarchate of the Holy City, he found an Outremer rather different from the one forged by the swords of the first generation of Crusader conquerors. By the middle of the 12th C., impoverished and insignificant knights from Europe had become barons, while those with more renown and resources, such as the magnates from Toulouse, from Sicily, from Lombardy, from Lorraine and from Bavaria, had grown to become wealthy and formidable dukes, able to furnish a dozens of cavaliers under their banners. In the market districts of the Levantine emporia, one would find so many Italians, and even Flemings and Dalmatians bartering with the Saracens and Syrians, that one might have the impression that they were still in Europe. In some few newly established settlements in the Outremer were being built and were inhabited solely by Franks, with no Syrians or Palestinians to be seen.

    In his first years in the office, certainly driven by an enterprising enthusiasm, Suger endeavored to convert the Saracens of the Outremer en masse to Christianity, and thus, in his view, redeem the Earthly Kingdom of God, still inhabited, as it was, by these heathens. We can infer from his contemporary correspondence with Pope Victor and his successor Stephen, however, that he did not really devise any systematic plan or project to sustain this undertaking, and this explains why it resulted in a complete fiasco and was soon abandoned. While he did commission copies of the Qu’ran from his intellectual peer, future Saint Peter of Montboissier, to assist in the task of converting the Saracens, those among the local Latin clergy never bothered with trying to actually understand the Islamic scripture; they simply read the Islamic message in the light of its inconsistencies and disagreements with the Biblical text and Catholic doctrine, and thus they failed to comprehend the finesses of the so-called “Saracen creed”. Very few of them actually set out to the interior of Palestine and Syria to preach to the Muslims, and one can wonder what impression they ought to make on the jaundiced peoples of the provincial communities, those that scantly a couple generations ago pertained to the most privileged strata of society, and regarded the [Oriental] Christians with contempt. To be fair, Suger’s effort failed not only because of the recalcitrance of the local Muslim communities - who actually had no desire of accessing the privileges and benefits of the Frankish-dominated political universe, and regarded apostasy as the ultimate crime - but also due to the negligence of the local Latin and Greek clergymen, who believed it to be a fruitless task, and of the opposition of the Frankish lords that had carved their fiefs in the Levantine hinterland, whose wealth generally depended on the so-called “Saracen tax”, levied upon the unbaptized subjects.

    After abandoning his initial theological endeavors, Suger nonetheless realized that the were various political, administrative and diplomatic incumbencies to his care. Until his last days in this world, even bone-weary due to the advanced age, he remained vigorous in mind and temper, and sought to leave a dignified contribution to the Earthly Kingdom of God.

    It was surprising to assess that his various predecessors in the Archiepiscopal throne - barring Gregory of Rome, whose political acumen and personal ambitions made him strive to control the reins of the government as must as to join the armies in campaign - , had neglected the actual administration of the State, deferring it to the Princes of Jerusalem, who had become all too used to rule it as a de facto feudal monarchy. Indeed, the Metropolitans seemed to have become all too consumed by the ecclesiastic or monastic matters, or with judicial arbitration, or simply with living a life of leisure in some pleasurable Mediterranean palace. On the other hand, all of the preceding Princes of Jerusalem, men such as Bohemond of Taranto or Richard of Salerno, were solely concerned with warfare or martial pastimes and cared little for the necessities of political management.

    Thusly, the political and legal fabric of the realm had been sewed in ad hoc fashion, to deal with the immediate exigencies of the various peoples that inhabited it, and this explains why the Normans and Provençals had, each, their own customs and ordinances, as did the Bavarians, the Lorrainers, as well as the Venetians, Genoese, Amalfitans and Pisans, all of whom had by-laws to rule their own districts. The Armenians, the Syrians, the Greeks and even the Saracens under Frankish rule all had their own legal systems, usually centered in their proper religious and cultural mores. While Suger understood that these ethnocultural microcosms had to exist in autonomous form to preserve harmony and peace in the Realm, he was concerned with the lack of central norms to discipline concurrent aspects of daily life, such as torts and reparation for wrongdoings, tenure and succession of real estate, contracts and oaths, and usage of violence by Christians, among others.

    One situation that brought him dire concern, for example, was the verification that many serfs had abandoned their bondage in Europe, most notably from France and Germany, and established themselves in the Outremer, which, to a man deeply concerned with the idea of a divinely ordained structure of society, caused an intolerable revulsion and had to be repressed. From a more pragmatic stance, however, seeing that, to ensure the perpetuation of the Earthly Kingdom of God, the Outremer ought to have a sizable population of Europeans, Suger issued charters to preserve the prerogatives and rights of free men, lest they might be maltreated by the caprice of the lay princes, or, even, of the more mundane clergymen. With Pope Stephen’s sanction, he attempted to foster immigration from France, because, as per his own words, recorded in one of his many extant letters to the Holy See: “the virtuous and merry souls of the realm of St. Denis and St. Remy ought to bring the plough, the sickle, the hammer, the loom, the brush, the quern, the chisel, as they too ought to bring the sword, the spear and the helmet, so that they can devote the whole of their lives to the service of the Cross in God’s Kingdom”.

    While the Latin Outremer had a Chancery ever since its formative years, having been created by a bull of Pope Paschal II in 1103 A.D., the production of official documents in the span of more than fifty years seemed rather scarce, and the various Chancellors who headed it cared little about its affairs. Suger sought to remedy this by appointing various notaries from among the monks of the monasteries of Palestine and Transjordania, and commissioned the production of scores of reams of paper that kept the pulp mills of Damascus busy for successive years, something hitherto unseen in the Latin Outremer. Indeed, now that the dust of the conquest wars had finally settled, the Frankish lay nobility, the Church and the monasteries, as well as the guilds, had accumulated patrimony, estates, cattle, precious goods, money, and had to account for multiple sources of revenue and complex expenses, as well as for the produce and dues of the subjects, a grave concern for those that held suspicious oversight over Oriental Christian or Muslim communities.


    ******

    The Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem saw the Pope as being the sole source of spiritual and temporal authority in the Holy Land, and he would never dare forget that his own position, as that of the lay noblemen, was one of direct subordination. Even if the Kingdom had been actually conquered from the infidels by the force of the arms of the Crusaders, it had been founded in earnest by mandate and assent of the Vicar of Christ. This can be seen by the way that Suger more often than not refers to the lay rulers of the Outremer as “delegates” (advocati or sometimes ministeriales), in detriment of their more preferred titles of feudal significance. Indeed, Suger judged that the Pope was much more than a king who held a feudal contract over his vassals; no, the Pope was a representative of God in Earth, and thus he held ultimate suzerainty over the Christian souls, irrespective of their political roles in the feudal legal context. It seems to frustrate him, though, the fact that the equestrian lords were apparently too obnoxious or too arrogant to adjust to this nuanced dynamic, and insisted in addressing their relationship with the Holy See as being that of a mere seigneurial allegiance; one, in fact, that they had more often than not neglected, seeing that the vast distancement of the Papacy towards the realities of the Frankish Orient allowed them to exercise their own personal dictates according to their own desires. In one of his letters, the Archbishop goes as far as saying that, once the Realm has been thoroughly pacified, and the five sees of the Pentarchy are firmly under Christian government, there might be no need for the presence of a knightly class of nobles, and the defense of the holy sites will be confided to the warrior-monks of the armed fraternities - who, according to Suger, are more earnest and disciplined than the bellicose Crusader warlords.

    Suger’s doubtfulness in relation to the Latin-Levantine secular potentates can be understood in the context in which he lived in. Firstly, one can not fail to remember that he hailed from France, a proud kingdom that had de facto fragmented under the rule of various grandees, in Champagne, Anjou, Burgundy, Normandy, Aquitaine, and others, who had grown powerful and tyrannical under the weak government of successive Capetian monarchs. Starting with his original benefactor, King Louis VI, the Kings in Paris would attempt to regain their political strength vis-a-vis the misrule of the great dukes; his successor, King *Phillip II would restore a semblance of dignity to the royal scepter inherited from the Carolingians, but, even then, his overarching ambitions would incite the enmity of his realm’s traditional rivals, England and Germany. Secondly, in the Outremer itself, the Patriarch witnessed various disputes and petty grievances between the lords that, before coming to a solution by arbitration and adjudication, were aggravated by threats of bloodshed and violence. Ever since he arrived in the Outremer, he saw the incumbent Prince of Jerusalem and Duke of Galilee, Raymond II of Caesarea, almost come to blows with his main political adversaries, the Norman magnates that had become the masters of western Syria, chief among them being Tancred of Damascus and Bohemond II of Tyre.

    Their hatred and distrust was mutual, and thus the grievances multiplied over the years. Ever since the start of Raymond’s rule as Prince, Bohemond and Tancred contested his election, in an effort to undermine his legitimacy. Even worse, after the fiasco of the German expedition of the later phase of the Second Crusade, the Normans pointed Raymond as a scapegoat to undermine his authority. After all, he had been the Latin-Levantine herald that commanded the Crusader vanguard when they entered the region of the Nile Delta. It was, of course, all too convenient for them to ignore the fact that the causes of the campaign’s failure were related to the poor and uncooperative leadership - unsurprising, considering that the Crusader lieutenants, notably the Dukes of Bavaria and of Swabia, hated one another -, to natural causes, such as epidemics and climate, and to the assertiveness of the Fatimid army, which saw the opportunities to exploit the weakness of the beleaguered Crusader host. In any case, the Normans expected to galvanize the support of the Lombards and of the French and English Normans who had come to the Outremer more recently, and bonded over with the Bohemondine faction due to similar interests and cultural affinities. On the other hand, the Raymondine faction was coherent in their mutual suspicions against the Normans, who, as a collective entity, had grown far too powerful and wealthy after harnessing the riches of Syria, and was stringed together by a network of marital alliances. Thus, the Provençals and allied with the Aquitanians, the Bavarians and the Lorrainers, and this explains why Raymond was quick to bestow his favor over the lords of Beirut, Tortosa, and Tiberias, respectively.

    The first point of contention, which forced Suger to intervene and plead for Pope Stephen’s mediation, involved the very definition of the military campaigns that the Latin-Levantine princes should undertake to expand the reach of God’s kingdom. To the Archbishop’s astonishment, barely a couple years after the end of the Second Crusade, Raymond was confabulating with his allies to plan another expedition against the realm of Egypt, in a joint invasion with the Rhōmaîoi, with the purpose of eradicating the Saracen presence in that nation. To Suger’s relief, upon establishing diplomatic contact with Basileus John II Komnenos, the latter made it clear that, having only recently reconquered Armenia, he would not employ his forces against the Fatimid Caliphate - not in the least because, unbeknownst to the Franks, the Caliph, after the end of the German Crusade, forged a secret treaty of Constantinople, accepting to pay tribute in exchange for a long-lasting truce. The Basileus feared the Crusader expansionism, and had his own designs in Egypt, which he considered an integral piece of the Rhōmaîon monarchy. In any event, Suger produced a bull, signed by the then incumbent Pope Victor, that prohibited the Latin-Levantine knights of raising arms or levies against foreigners, even Saracens, unless it served to defend the realm against a hostile incursion. The bull would later be ratified by Pope Stephen X, in response to Suger’s concerns with the preservation of Christian manpower and resources, in a period of remarkable scarcity due to the diminishment of commerce and outbreak of epidemics. The legal precedent was the “Peace and Truce of God” policy adopted by the Catholic Church ever since the early 11th Century, which, in its original conception, served to prevent violence between Christians, and now, surprisingly, was used to prevent violence even against the so-called enemies of the faith.

    Needless to say, the Pontifical resolution caused a massive uproar in the Frankish world, dominated as it was by this martial class of knights to whom warfare was not only a fixture or a profession, but a way of life. Even in Europe it saw some criticism, and, in some cases, surprisingly, from those among the clergy, especially in Hispania and in eastern Germany, places where the local Church was frequently involved in the nobles' wars against the Moors and the pagans. In the Outremer, it caused a general sentiment of perplexity, but, seeing that there was disunity among the nobles, no one dared disrespect the Papal determination, lest one might face excommunication and interdict.

    Thus, when Count Tancred of Damascus, in 1150, put the rebellious walled town of Denisine [ancient Dionysias/OTL As-Suwayda] to siege, after they refused to pay extortionate tributes, Raymond of Caesarea intervened and, in the pretense of ensuring the compliance to the Papal determinations, mustered his knights to oppose Tancred. This one, realizing that Raymond had his own designs towards the rulership of the region, named by the locals “Hauran”, and by the Franks “Damascanese” - a particularly fertile expanse of populous cities that served the strategic purpose of securing the eastern frontier of the Latin Outremer -, refused to comply, and only deposed arms when he was faced with the coming of the Patriarch himself, accompanied by the Templarians. Raymond did not waste the opportunity, and, presenting himself as a liberator, freed the local Syrian and Saracen communities from their tributes, and granted the rulership of the region, with the seat in the citadel of Adratum [OTL Daraa], to Bernard of Rodez [Bernat de Rodés], young son of the Gascon Count Hugh II of Rodez [Uc de Rodés]. Bernard was created Count, but his rule would remain challenged by the Normans until the end of the 12th Century.

    Now, in 1151, when the word spread that Raymond was secretly devising an agreement with the Consul of Genoa to prepare an invasion of the Fatimid province of Cyrenaica - likely in response to the Siculo-Norman raid ordered by Roger of Apulia only three years before -, Tancred of Damascus accused the Prince of sedition and demanded a sanction from the Archbishop. Raymond quickly gave up his plans, but, nevertheless, saw himself humiliated, and his distrust of Tancred grew even more.

    Howbeit the Archbishop might, from an institutional point of view, disregard the pretenses of the temporal nobles, seeing them as mere subordinates to the State of the Church established in the Holy Land, he was pragmatic enough to realize, with time, that he could not actually do it in practice, and that the harmony in the realm needed was dependent on the consensus of the nobles and of the legitimacy of his own position. For this reason he, more than any other of the previous Archbishops, often resorted to plead for a direct Papal approbation to sanction his own policies, in an effort to contain the quarrelsome spirit of the barons. Pope Victor had been very sympathetic, but Pope Stephen was an even more dedicated governor, even in absentia. It was certainly this synergy between the Holy See and the Latin Patriarchate that ensured a modicum of stability in the Crusader State in the turbulent years between 1145 and 1160. Inside the Outremer, Suger was very dependent on the support of the Templarians and of the Michaelites to enforce policy in the event of any disobedience.


    ******​


    Circumstances changed greatly after the death of Emperor John II Komnenos, and the accession of his son Manuel. While the deceased Basileus had striven, by diplomacy, to create a modus vivendi between the Crusaders and the declining Shi’ite Caliphate, Manuel dreamed of reenacting the feats of the great conquering emperors of old, from Caesar to Justinian, and saw the weakness of the Fatimid Caliphs as an invitation for a prospective triumph. He knew that the current Vizier, Ibn Maṣāl, was investing vast sums of money of the realm to bolster the armies of the Caliphate, especially by acquiring and training new mamluks to serve as an elite force loyal to the Caliph - and, by extension, to himself as the Vizier -, and, accordingly, he ought to submit the Shi'ites lest they become a force to be reckoned with once again. After all, the Empire had been steadily recovering from the nadir of its fortunes, so it might happen that Fate decreed a Fatimid revival in a near future as well, or so the Komnenoi feared.

    While Manuel had qualms about the swift Frankish expansionism in the Levant, he saw them as the lesser evil, and believed it was better to take advantage of the moment to preemptively overtake Egypt, with the assistance of the Latins, which would be very much necessary to ensure the success of a war of conquest. Indeed, Manuel believed that the Franks might be allowed to share of the spoils of victory, but, once Egypt was secured as an Imperial territory once again, it would reaffirm the subordinate and servile position of the Crusaders to the Crown of Constantinople. Seeing that the submission of Egypt was such an immediate necessity, one can assume that perhaps the Basileus feared that the Crusaders might reduce Egypt before the Rhōmaîoi. They lacked the manpower to do so, but, if the realms of Europe joined in another great Crusade, they might indeed humble the Caliphate. If this did happen, Manuel knew that the Crusaders would become the most formidable power in western Asia, and, likely, rival the Empire.

    Upon the new Basileus' accession and after his throne was secured, however, Manuel had to look to Armenia still, which would be the cynosure of Constantinople’s eyes during the early years of his reign. The successive destruction of the most powerful Turkic princedoms of the region - the Rûm Seljuqs, the Danishmendids, the Artuqids, the Inalids, and the Shah-Armens, among other smaller beyliks -, in the span of a few decades, coupled with the annexation of the Frankish Duchy of Edessa, left the Empire in a better position in Asia. It was, however, badly overstretched and left without significant buffers against the formidable Emirate of Mosul, whose aggressive expansion jeopardized the Empire's interests. The Komnenoi pursued a policy of in-depth defense; they sought to impose military control of the Armenian provinces to allow, in first place, the economic and demographic replenishment of the Anatolian ones, specially Sebasteia, Lykandos, Coloneia, Charsianon and Armeniac; only then would they direct their efforts to repopulate the countries beyond the Taurus: Melitene, Teluch, Mesopotamia and Armenia proper. It meant, in consequence, that the whole vast country between Edessa and central Armenia - now under the suzerainty of Georgia - became a heavily-fortified and underpopulated frontier with few persistent communities of Armenian, Turcoman, Kurdish and Syrian stock, mostly concentrated in the more remote regions of desert or mountains. The occupation and refortification of strongholds such as Samosata, Kharput [OTL Elazığ] and Edessa [OTL Sanliurfa], now mostly abandoned by the Franks, and Constantia [OTL Viranşehir] and Amida [OTL Diyarbakır], were a strategic boon to Rhōmanía. This cordon of fortified settlements, however, while it could deter an enemy bent on territorial conquest, such as the Mosuli or the Seljuqs, hardly impeded the passage and roaming of the various bands of Turcoman and Kurdish ravagers that infested Jaziria and western Armenia, and regularly advanced into the Imperial provinces bordering the Taurus mountains, as well as into the enlarged Kingdom of Georgia.

    The Turcomans might not be an existential threat, because they lacked any organization or even long-term purpose beyond plundering and mayhem, but their very dispersion and unpredictability made them hostile to the harmony of the frontier provinces. Even worse, the Turcomans seemed to be coming in even greater numbers from the periphery of the Islamic world, seemingly attracted by the recent growth of Shams al-Din Ildeniz [OTL Shamseddin Eldigüz], Atabeg of Azerbaijan. A new rival of the Toghtekinids of Mosul, Atabeg Ildeniz “Azam” (i.e. the Great) would achieve prominence in the twilight generations of the Seljuq monarchy, and is fated to become the most powerful of the Islamic potentates in western Persia. In the years of 1156 and onward, he was dedicated to the jihad against the Georgians, and his far-reaching promises of plunder and conquest attracted many adventurers among the Turkic tribes. Many others came to Jaziria to serve under the banner of Emir Shihab ad-Din Muhammad [Şehābüddīn Mahmud], the successor of Sayf al-Islam, and were encouraged to raid deep into Rhōmaiōn Armenia. In the 1160s, Ildeniz would impose himself as a de facto power-behind-the-throne in relation to the weakened Seljuq dynasts and commandeer a vast part of Persia and Mesopotamia in a series of wars against Mosul, Georgia, Fars and Khwarezm.

    While the rise and fall of the Eldiguzids, and the feats and deeds of their progenitor Shams al-Din Ildeniz, will be of minor relevance in our Chronicle, because they were never fated to meet the Crusaders in war or peace, they are worth mentioning for two reasons. Firstly, because it was his agency that resulted in the proliferation of the Turcoman warbands in the late 1150s and over the whole of the 1160s in Armenia, a factor that resulted in an even more aggravated diaspora by the Armenians, whose scores of families migrated to the Crusader State, to the Kingdom of Georgia, and to Rhōmaiōn Cilicia. Secondly, because the instability of the region made Basileus Manuel beseech military support of the Franks, and this in turn produced another chain of events relevant to describe in this passages.

    By the end of the 1150s, the Papal “Peace of God” in the Outremer was conveniently and silently abandoned - even Metropolitan Suger knew that it was unsustainable as a policy, because it would be seen, by their enemies, as a demonstration of weakness. He did dream with an Earthly Kingdom that mirrored a paradise of peace and virtuousness, but he knew too that, against the infidels, God’s princedom had to be protected by the swords of sinful warriors.

    Even then, Suger might have only reluctantly authorized a Latin-Levantine expedition to Armenia, to assist the Rhōmaiōn against the Turcomans. If Manuel indeed needed Frankish assistance, it is doubtful; the Tagmata alone might suffice to contain such a threat. Yet, it seems that his objective, if we can infer that from the account of John Kinnamos Grammaticus, was to ensure that the Crusaders were committed to the causes of the Empire, in the holy wars against the infidels, as per their various agreements established and ratified ever since the First Crusade, and not solely to their own agenda of dominating the Holy Land and Syria. Perhaps Manuel wanted to force the Franks to make good of their promises of allegiance, as should any vassal do towards their liege.

    As it happened, then, according to John Kinnamos, the Doux Frangoi, recently bestowed with the honorific of Megas Konostaulos [lit. “Great Constable”], went to campaign in the seasons of 1159 and 1160 in the former lands of Edessa. It is likely that Prince Raymond either did not actually venture there, or, if he did, it was solely in its initial phase, because, in later events, he is already found in Syria. It was his son, in fact - Raymond-Jordan -, that commanded the Franco-Oriental army, likely joined by his allies of Bavarian Tortosa.

    It is conspicuous that the contemporary Latin and Greek sources give scant detail to the fact that the Franks and Rhōmaiōn suffered a significant tactical reversal while assailing the fortified settlement of al-Ḩasakah. Niketas Choniates, writing fifty years after the event, attributes the victory to the “Scythians that ruled Armenia”, which could refer to the Emirate of Mosul or even the Shah-Armens, considering that, in the very first year of the reign of King George III of Georgia (1156), they staged a large rebellion against him, likely supported by Mosul. The more contemporary account of Ibn al-Qalanisi, then living in exile in Baghdad after the Frankish conquest of Damascus, commemorates the victory against the Franks by the “ghazi” that expelled the “polytheists” definitely from Jaziria. In context, the name ghazi usually refers to the independent Turcoman or Kurdish groups that rampaged through this conflagrated frontier.

    The defeat was, in any case, a momentous one and tarnished the impressive record of successes of the Christians in the region. After this, Manuel Komnenos became more seriously committed to a series of punitive expeditions in the region over the course of the next five years, and sometimes even led the army in person to war against the Turcomans, the Shah-Armens and the Emirate of Mosul. Manuel also reinforced the bonds of alliance by marrying his cousin Andronikos into the House of Bagrationi. Manuel then assisted his ally King George III in quenching the rebellion of the Shah-Armens and Turcomans against his rule, resulting in the execution of Nāṣir al-Dīn Sökmen II, and the extinction of the Ahlatshahs.

    On the side of the Franks, the casualties were significant, and, to the Prince of Jerusalem, particularly severe. His son and heir Raymond-Jordan was captured with other Latin-Levantine knights, and was given as a prisoner to Mosul, where he would languish for two years in captivity.




    ______________________________________________________________________


    Notes and comments: the mention about Suger commissioning the production of paper seems a gratuitous one, but it is a nod to the fact that the middle to late 12th Century saw the gradual shift from the usage of parchment to that of paper, whose fabrication had been mastered by the Muslims. Considering that the Levant is in immediate contact with the Islamic world and that, according to the wiki, Damascus had its own paper industry. I figured that the first real contact of the Europeans with paper ought to happen in the Outremer.

    I admit I had my doubts in relation to the idea that the Papacy would actually foster a period of truce with the Muslims. While it does seems out of character for the Crusaders, I believe it wouldn't be too far-fetched if we consider that OTL Saint Bernard was very reluctant to preach the Papal summon of the Second Crusade. It seems that he, for some time, had some qualms towards the idea of Crusading, as did some of his contemporaries. ITTL, certainly preoccupied with Suger's assessment of the situation in the Outremer. The region is experiencing an economic and demographic recession, and, as we have briefly touched in the penultimate chapter, more tropical epidemics such as typhus and yellow fever are starting to take their toll on the Latin-Levantine communities, as they are seeing, even in the middle of the 12th C., a much greater influx of immigrants and visitors than IOTL, now that the overland route of Asia is much more safer than it was historically, dominated as it was by the Rûm Seljuqs.

    IOTL, Manuel Komnenos married firstly to Bertha of Sulzbach and, after her death, to Maria of Antioch. While Bertha should exist ITTL, her significance in the world stage is non-existent, because her historical father-in-law, Holy Roman Emperor Conrad III, never comes to power. Seeing that the Welfs had no suitable royals to marry into the Komnenoi dynasty, and considering that the Komnenoi are seeking a more significant rapprochement with the Kingdom of Georgia, I figured that it would make sense for Manuel to marry with Rusudan, considering that her historical marriage with Mas'ud Seljuq was in the same timeframe of Manuel's historical marriage to Bertha of Sulzbach. This is particularly relevant, because it means that Manuel's progeny will likely be different from that he sired IOTL.


    Barring Bohemond II of Tyre (who is not an actual Hauteville) and Tancred of Damascus, most of the other characters mentioned in this chapter are historical.
     
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    59. The War Between the Crusaders (1161/1162 A.D.)


  • LIX. THE WAR BETWEEN THE CRUSADERS




    u-g-PCICE70.jpg


    Illumination depicting a battle between the Latin-Levantines in the War of 1161 with the crowned individual representing Prince Raymond II of Jerusalem and Galilee



    The capture of Raymond-Jordan and other Provençal and Bavarian nobles was an embarrassment to Prince Raymond II of Jerusalem, whose authority became, once again, challenged by his inimical rivals of Norman stock and their respective partisans. Among them, the loudest opponent was Tancred of Damascus, last-born son of the previous Prince of Jerusalem, who openly criticized Raymond for permitting the bloodshed and perishment of Christian souls in the fruitless wars in Armenia, to serve the interests of the one he called the “Tyrant of Constantinople”.

    At first, Raymond attempted a more conciliatory approach, likely because, this one time, his own son and the future of his lineage were at stake. Seeing that the Emir of Mosul enjoyed himself in demanding a truly massive sum of money in exchange for the imprisoned Franks - or else they would meet the gallows -, the Prince convened the nobles and burghers of the realm and pleaded for contributions to hoard a significant treasure.

    Now, Raymond’s humiliation only strengthened his adversaries’ resolve to challenge him in his capacity as the Prince. Instigated by Tancred’s vitriol, other noblemen, especially those of Norman and Lombard extraction, simply refused to comply with Raymond’s demands, affirming that they had fulfilled already their campaigning service, and had no other pecuniary obligations.

    Raymond’s reaction, likely incensed by the circumstances, was a grave one. Having never forgotten the very first rebellion conducted by Tancred and Bohemond against his rule upon his accession to the princely throne, he, without sanction of the Archbishop, forwarded to the Court of Grandees an accusation of sedition and conspiracy against Tancred and Bohemond other associated nobles, and proposed their banishment and the revocation of their titles and estates. He then sent his heralds to Damascus and Tyre demanding their immediate submission.

    Predictably, the debacle widened the distance between the Raymondine party and the Normans and their respective allies.

    Bohemond II, as soon as received the ultimatum, went in person to Hôumises, where he interviewed with Archbishop Suger - who was then presiding over the ceremony of consecration of a new cathedral in the metropolis - and, before him, accused Raymond of conspiracy and usurpation. And, indeed, the Patriarch, aghast by what he saw as an arrogation of his Pontifical authority, voyaged to Jerusalem to meet with the irate Duke of Galilee.

    It is likely that, in this period, the alliance between these two branches of the House of Hauteville, the Bohemondines of Tyre and the Richardines of Damascus was well consolidated, and, indeed, they fostered their political allegiance by marriage ties. While Tancred seems to have entertained some ambitions towards the Princely throne, he seemed to realize that his colleague Bohemond was far more popular and was held in much greater esteem among the Normans, the Lombards and the Picards that inhabited the Outremer; thusly, he opted to support Bohemond to the head of the Principality, and, in exchange, he was to receive the lion's share of the provinces of Coele-Syria and Damascanese and be recognized as Duke of Syria, a title that had been created by his father Roger, but which never gained official recognition. In fact, Tancred had more than once petitioned to Raymond for the recognition of the overlordship over the Damascanese, but was always dismissed. Soon thereafter, however, Raymond placed his own partisans in the rule of some of these Damascanese counties, and this left the Normans insulted and deceived.

    This time, realizing that his own arbitration could scantly prevent bloodshed, the Latin Patriarch heeded his friend and ally, the Papal nuncio in Jerusalem, to voyage to Rome and to plead for the Holy Father’s own intervention.

    Fate decreed, however, that Archbishop Suger was to die shortly thereafter, in the onset of winter in 1160, stricken by a lethal bout of pneumonia. The Patriarch, a man of many virtues, had long since abdicated from the excesses and vices of the carnal world, and was permitted by Divine Providence to remain in Earth until almost his eightieth year of life. Now, with a weaker disposition, he was prostrated by sickness in a particularly cold evening, and, realizing that he was living his last breath, asked his friend, Aimery of Limoges, the Prior of the Holy Sepulcher, to administer the last rites. In the very same night, he was at last summoned to the Kingdom of God.

    As per his last will, he was interred in the sacrosanct grounds of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, and his funeral was attended by the various nobles and dignitaries of the Realm, and even by those from the races of the Greeks, the Armenians and the Syrians, all of whom acknowledged Suger as a champion and protector of the whole Christian community. His piety and wisdom became the subject of various appraisals and folk legends, shortly after his passing; accordingly, many of the Latin-Levantines came to venerate him as a saint long before he was to be canonized by *Pope Felix V, various decades after his passing. Due to his work in fostering pilgrimage to the Holy Land, having granted various benefices and allowances for the construction of hospices and sleeping houses, and financing the activities of the Hospitallarians, he would become renowned as a patron saint of the Christian pilgrims.

    Pope Stephen X, soon after receiving the news of Suger’s passing, in his correspondence to the Abbots of Clairvaux and Cluny, dedicated a concise panegyric in homage to the former Metropolitan Archbishop of Jerusalem, praising his devoutness to the cause of Christ in the Holy Land. It is said that Stephen suffered Suger’s deceasement with particular grief, because they had regarded one another as friends. Now, even if the Pope, as a man dedicated to Christ, ought welcome death as a passage to the House of God, he, in the very dusk of his lifetime, became even more dedicated to the cause of the Holy Church after Suger died, and would see more two years in this Earth before he too was to be summoned to the presence of the Creator.

    Pope Stephen X, even if ever preoccupied with the complex political and institutional realities of contemporary Europe, especially with the guarantee of the Peace and Truce of God institutions, and had presided over various synods in Italy, in France and in Germany, and even in Iberia, never set off his sights from the Orient, where the Earthly Kingdom laid. Concerned with the reports of infighting among the Frankish nobles, Stephen believed it would be best to place one of their own in the patriarchal throne of Jerusalem, and thus he invested the suffragan Bishop of Nazareth, Bernard of Vèlay, in the archepiscopalian office. This decision, however, would prove to be a faulty one.

    Archbishop Bernard, known in History as “the Warlike”, had been born in Palestine - thus becoming the first Latin-Levantine prelate to hold the office -, but he pertained to a Provençal noble family of Velay, being, thus, related by blood to the House of Toulouse. Bernard himself had political affinities with Raymond and with his predecessor, Pons of Caesarea, both of whom had bestowed patronage to the Diocese of Nazareth. Now, if Suger’s impartiality and political acumen had sought him to prevent the disputes between the Frankish lords, Bernard decidedly tied his own ambitions and interests to the cause of Raymond, and thus promoted belligerence against what he regarded as common enemies, the Normans.


    ******​


    In 1161, months after Suger’s passing, Bernard of Velay was invested in the archiepiscopalian office of the Holy Land, in Rome, receiving the crown and the regalia from the Pope himself. Thereafter, he voyaged to Constantinople, where he was received by Basileus Manuel Komnenos, before returning to the Outremer.

    It is remarkable that the Rhōmaîon Emperor, in this happenstance, seemingly acknowledged Bernard as the Patriarch of Jerusalem, a political move that brought him at odds with the incumbent Patriarch of Constantinople, Luke Chrysoberges. Indeed, ever since the First Crusade resulted in the establishment of the so-called Latin Patriarchate, as a parallel entity in relation to the already existent Greek Patriarchate, the Komnenoi Emperors since Alexios I had never recognized the Latin Archbishops of Jerusalem as genuine Patriarchs positioned in the ecclesiastical system of the “Pentarchy” - inasmuch the western Popes had long since rejected the pentarchic model, propped as they were in the doctrine of the universal preeminence of the See of Rome. The Emperors had always sanctioned the election of Greek Patriarchs in Jerusalem from among the ranks of the Orthodox Christians, and this became tacitly accepted by the Catholics, including the Popes, ever since the pontificate of Paschal II, and more especially by the Latin-Levantine churchmen themselves, as they seemed to have realized that the Greek clergy had little relevance in the political, ecclesiastical and institutional affairs of the Outremer. As it happened, the Greek Patriarchs had been politically weak and ineffectual, and thus the Latin Archbishops comfortably referred to their own selves as Patriarchs too in official texts and diplomatic correspondence, all while the court in Constantinople seemingly ignored their pretenses, and reserved official recognition to those elected to the office by the synods of Jerusalem.

    Now, likely motivated by the desire of upholding the political suzerainty of the Empire over the Crusader State, it seems that Manuel recognized Bernard as the Latin Patriarch in exchange of ceremonial submission to the throne of Constantinople. To a man like Bernard, whose political ambitions spoke loudly than institutional decorum, the symbolic proskynesis to the Constantinopolitan throne, scantly a couple months after he had been consecrated by the Pope in Rome, was a small price to pay in return for recognition and prestige. Bernard believed that Constantinople was geographically and politically far too detached from the Outremer for him to care about actually upholding the consequences of this arrangement, and it seems that it would prove to be beneficial to him indeed, as it resulted in financial patronage from Manuel to Bernard’s favorite dioceses and abbeys in the Orient and in Provence, and in a new stream of revenue to his own personal estates.

    The problem was that there was still an incumbent Orthodox Patriarch of Jerusalem, John IX [Gr: Ioannes], who had been elected by the synod of Jerusalem, and thus Manuel was gravely admonished by Patriarch Luke, who feared the loss of influence of his own see over that of Jerusalem. Unwilling to sustain a dispute with the clergy, Manuel retroceded to his predecessors’ policy and gave recognition to the Greek Patriarch, John IX, who was to remain in office until 1166. Only afterwards, we will see, in another chapter of this chronicle, the rekindling of the ecclesiastical controversy, this time between the Emperor and the Papacy, regarding the doctrine of the Pentarchy.


    *****​


    Vilified by later historians, who ascribe to Archbishop Bernard a large share of the guilt for initiating a decades-long conflict between the Franks in the Outremer, and regarded as a worldly and self-serving individual, it is noting that we lack contemporary descriptions of his personality and motivations. Those who wrote about him in his lifetime, such as Pope Stephen, and his acquaintances in Constantinople, the brothers Hugh and Leo of Tuscany [Hugo Etherianus; Leo Tuscus], left no useful accounts, and thus we must resort to posthumous assessments, biased and judgmental as they are. Bernard is often compared, in his deeds and attitudes, to his predecessor Suger, universally praised as a virtuous and tactful statesman, whose conciliatory position apparently delayed an inevitable war.

    Indeed, it should testify against Bernard the fact that, not long after his accession to the archepiscopalian throne, in early 1162, the Franks raised arms, with Raymond II, sided by his partisans from among the Bavarians, the Aquitanians and the Lotharingians, marching against the Normans and their Lombard and French allies. The purported casus belli, according to Isoard of Ganges, a Provençal-speaking scholar, was the breach of the feudal contract towards his liege, the Duke of Galilee and Prince of Jerusalem. There are, however, sources - mainly from England and Sicily, which are more biased towards the Norman-Levantines - that describe Raymond as a tyrant who abused his position and arrogated himself a monarch. It is interesting to note, in any case, that in both of these interpretations, the nodal point was related to the dynamic between the feudal lords of the Outremer, and the role played by the paramount temporal authority, who was supposed to be a primus inter pares and an impartial adjudicator of disputes between the nobles, but never a self-serving autocrat. The same should apply to the Archbishop, being the highest spiritual authority of the realm, but, in Bernard's case, he was partial to those he believed that could help him further his own ambitions.

    Raymond, in deploying arms, was swift in movement. It is said that he ordered his men-at-arms and horsemen to gather in the slopes of Mount Carmel, dressed as poor pilgrims, monks and traders, and in this disguise they entered Tyre. Only when some bold knights of their ranks had already entered the city, did they show their arms, overpowering the curtain’s garrisons; afterwards, dressing in armor and joining with their horses, they captured the walls. Within the hour, Count Bohemond was informed of the debacle, but by then Raymond’s men had already forced their entrance and were assembled before the citadel. Such a deception, he realized, had been necessary to avoid a protracted engagement, because Tyre was a formidable stronghold - it was a whole island encircled by walls and sea, with sturdy fortifications, with only a single bridge connecting it to the mainland, famously constructed by Alexander the Great, hundreds of years before the birth of Christ.

    Bohemond at first refused to accept surrender, furiously arguing that Raymond had trespassed his demesne, which, according to him, equated to a violation of the protection of his household. Nonetheless, forced to barricade himself and his own retainers in the citadel, Bohemond was in a precarious situation. While the citadel had its own secluded harbor, to facilitate escape by the sea in the event of a land-oriented assault, Raymond had furnished three galleys - all of them aged vessels which had been captured from Cypriot pirates and gifted to the Franks by the late John Komnenos - and blockaded the port of Tyre. The outbreak of the war greatly displeased the Amalfitans and the Sicilians, who had their own quarters and interests in Tyre, but, in spite of their protests, they remained neutral and did not bring succor to the Count of Tyre.

    Worse even for Bohemond, the place of assemblage of the soldiers vassal to the Count of Tyre and Sidon was in Cana of Galilee [m. Qana], a small rural settlement a few kilometres to the east, which was rapidly occupied by Raymond’s lieutenant, Viscount William III of Acre. Once again taking advantage of the element of surprise, they ambushed and imprisoned in Cana a group of Norman knights which had hurriedly arrived from the garrison of the Hautcastieu [OTL historical Beaufort Castle]. From there, the Provençals assaulted Sidon - supported by their ally, Count William I of Beirut, the grandson of William IX of Aquitaine -, whose castellan was Bohemond’s fourteen-year old son, also named Bohemond, nicknamed “the Dog-Lover”. Young Bohemond opposed the Provençals and Aquitanians, but Sidon was far less challenging as a siege target than Tyre, and the combined resources of the Duke of Galilee, of his vassals and of the Count of Beirut was enough to force the Norman men-at-arms there positioned to capitulate.

    In the span of a couple weeks, Raymond occupied the principal settlements of the County of Tyre and Sidon, and it was a mostly bloodless campaign, only marred by the occurrence of a pitched battle between his army and a levy of Maronite peasants from the rugged Lebanese mountainside, that eagerly joined the side of the Normans in acknowledgment of Bohemond’s special patronage to their communities in detriment of those of the Syrians and Greeks. In spite of this episode, the Maronites did not make any concerted effort to assist Tyre, and neither did Raymond dare threaten their communities, fully aware of their tenacity in battle, and thus the Norman magnate became hopeless.

    Bohemond was completely encircled, even within his own city, and had to accept surrender after successive days of starvation, even knowing that his allies had rebelled against Raymond - his cousin Malger, the Viceduke of Transjordania, and Tancred of Damascus, all of whom were, after all, Hauteville dynasts. Neither Malger nor Tancred, however, threatened Raymond’s position in southern Phoenicia, and their sole contribution to the war effort was a series of raids against Raymond’s estates in Galilee and Samaria. To their surprise and dismay, Archbishop Bernard immediately demonstrated his favoritism towards Raymond by issuing an excommunication against both of them for raising arms against Christians, and summoned the other great nobles of the realm to deter them.

    Unwilling to oppose the Archbishop, the Normans of Tripoli and Balbec remained neutral, as did other minor nobles, such as the Picard Ebles of Daara and Simon of Montfort, the Constable of Hôumises. Those who had already professed allegiance to Raymond joined him at last, such as Eustache of Tiberias and Henry of Tortosa, and directed their resources against Damascus.


    *****

    In spite of being allies and relatives, Tancred and Malger campaigned autonomously and never joined forces. Malger was, after all, Tancred’s bastard brother, one who had been legitimized in Roger’s late life and been granted an important position in the Outremerine feudal society, and for this, Tancred, who had expected to receive the fief of Transjordania as part of the inheritance of Damascus, never forgave their father nor his baseborn sibling.

    Malger was an experienced and accomplished commander, but he lacked the necessary resources and manpower to win this war. Using the castle of Iverbint [mod. Irbid] as a base, he mustered a force of horsemen and men-at-arms from among loyal Normans, Lombards and Burgundians, among those that composed the garrison of the marcher strongholds of Transjordania, as well as levies of Syrians and Arabs that formed the agricultural backbone of the region. At first, he moved to relieve Tyre, but, with the knowledge that Raymond’s forces were occupying the city, he opted to move into Galilee and Samaria, and assailed the forts of the region. Lacking the means to prosecute sieges, he gave up after being impeded from entering Nablus, and went directly to Jerusalem, but, upon arriving there, he was deterred by the Archbishop Bernard himself, who, dressed in armor and helm, cursed Malger and threatened him with battle. Afterwards, Malger’s army went to the sea, and wrought havoc in the villages submitted to the rule of Caesarea, stealing supplies, cattle and expelling the peasants from the land.

    His strategy is fairly difficult to comprehend, in light of his movements; perhaps he intended to create a diversion to attract Raymond, or to force him to divide his forces, and relieve Bohemond. In any case, he was unsuccessful, and failed to prevent Bohemond’s defeat and capitulation.

    On the other hand, regarding Damascus, it seems that Tancred, likely dismayed by the submission of Tyre, lacked spirit to wage war, but was later on persuaded by his warlike spouse, the Anglo-Norman dame Mabel of England [Norm. Mabel FitzRobert], to arm his knights and sergeants, and oppose the enemy. This explains why he did not raise his banners, but closed Damascus off to Raymond and withstood the siege, perhaps expecting to be relieved by Malger or other collaborators.

    When he realized that Malger was waging war on his own terms, Tancred, desperate at the sight of Raymond, Eustace and Henry’s combined armies, demanded trial by combat, but this was too refused, and Raymond in various instances attempted to overcome the defenses and storm the walls, but Damascus had been transformed in a veritable stronghold by Tancred’s father Roger. In spite of his numerical superiority, Raymond failed to take Damascus by force, and thus resolved to set camp and encircle the city until its denizens succumbed to starvation.


    *****​


    Now, it was in late 1162 that the ambassadors of Constantinople came to Raymond and alerted him about Emperor Manuel Komnenos’ imminent coming to the Holy Land, a change of events that greatly surprised him.

    And, indeed, in the month of October, before the coming of winter, the Rhōmaiōn monarch arrived in Jerusalem, having come overland from the route of pilgrimage of Antioch, and assisted by an impressive cortege of military and civilian officials and dignitaries. While Manuel proclaimed to have come to the Holy City to witness the sacrossanct places, to meet the realm of Christ, and to practice penitence before the sight of God, he immediately intervened in the war and demanded that both parties laid down their arms. In this case, perhaps Raymond was as shocked as Tancred by Manuel’s interference, because he admonished the Franks for their violence and intemperance, one that offended Christian principles and norms.

    In an effort to quell the insurgence, Manuel convened an ad hoc tribunal, presided by himself, and attended by various dignitaries from both the realms of the Latins and the Greeks.

    While the sources do not explain details of the proceeding, we can assume that the event - the first one of its kind since the foundation of the Crusader State - produced no little discomfort to the Frankish lords, who had become used to see the Greek Emperors as distant, albeit relevant, authority figures.

    Manuel’s predecessor John had visited Jerusalem decades before, but this one Imperial visitation made a much different impression on the Franks. Manuel did not spare resources to elevate his image, presenting himself as a quasi-divine potentate, and the true earthly sovereign over the Holy Land.

    Sat in a prefabricated gilded throne, decorated with peacock feathers and precious gems, clad in gold, purple silk and jewelled accessories, the Latin grandees were compelled to pay homage and to kneel to their supposed temporal sovereign, and neither Raymond nor Tancred were exempted from the act of proskynesis. If Manuel was a pilgrim, he was certainly the less humble one to visit the realm of Christ and the apostles, because, even while performing the traditional acts of penitence, in the Temple of Solomon, in the Church of the Apostles, and in the River Jordan, which were supposed to evoke an image of humility, the Rhōmaiōn Basileus never shed his own personal authority and gravitas, and positioned himself as the highest and most dignified lay authority in the processions and ceremonies that composed the pilgrimage itinerary.

    Now, when Tancred, Count of Damascus, saw himself unexpectedly a defendant in this judicial court installed by the Emperor, he, believing in the righteousness of the customs of the Franks of Normandy, pleaded once again for a trial by combat. This time, his request was conceded, because, even if the law of the Rhōmaiōi did not recognize it, the law of the Franks did, and the Emperor respected their ways.

    Tancred argued that his honor had been tarnished by Raymond’s accusations levied against him, and resolved to a duel. His chosen champion was a certain Reginald, called “the Foul-Handed” a knight-errant that had come from Normandy to Jerusalem, in the retinue of Lady Mabel, to expiate his sins of having murdered a priest, while Raymond elected to his cause the young knight Blacas, Castellan of Bersheba. The duel resulted, this time, in Tancred’s victory, and thus the court acquiesced with his claim and acknowledged his honor, absolving him from his offenses.

    Malger maintained the hostilities until December until he was defeated in battle by Raymond’s knights.

    While Malger was deposed, Bohemond abdicated in favor of his son, now crowned Bohemond III of Tyre and Sidon. Both of them departed, then, to Italy, in exile.

    Afterwards, as we will see in other passages, the Emperor of the Rhōmaiōi summoned the Franks and other allies to gather to wage a new war against the realm of Egypt, the one supposed to bring the Shi’ite Caliphate to heel.



    In the next chapter: the Rhōmaiōn and the Franks prepare for an invasion of Fatimid Egypt.
     
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    59. Prolegomena of Manuel's War
  • 59. PROLEGOMENA OF MANUEL'S WAR


    1617143000893.png


    Contemporary portrait of Basileus Manuel I Komnenos (c. 1180 A.D.)



    I. Of the Liaisons and Struggles of the Komnenoi and the Fāṭimīds

    Ever since their beginnings, the political relations between the Fāṭimīds and the Komnenoi had been complicated, to say the least.

    When great Alexios was elevated to the purple, he eagerly accepted the friendship and alliance of the Fāṭimīds, seeing that, in spite of their religious divergences, they had a common cause against the Seljuks. And the agreement worked well for some time; while the Rhōmaîoi endeavored to retake Anatolia from the Turks, the Egyptians did reclaim their provinces of Palestine and Syria against them.

    Alexios had attempted to preserve the alliance with the Caliphate even after the Frankish armies of the First Crusade trespassed the Fāṭimīd premises in Syria, but the siege of Jerusalem forced the Rhōmaîoi to make their choice, and this time they opted to support their own coreligionists, breaching the pact with the Saracens. By 1100, when the First Crusade came to its violent end, the Franks having vanquished the Fāṭimīd army in Ascalon after occupying Jerusalem and expelling Saracens from the Holy City, the relations between Constantinople and Cairo became hostile, but not outright violent. Its nadir occurred when the combined Rhōmaîon and Italian armada attacked the Egyptian navy off the Nile Delta and vanquished the Saracens in sea, assisting the Franks during the Turkish jihad against Jerusalem. Afterwards, the Caliphate attempted to counter Rhōmanía by proxy, commissioning pirates based in Libya and Cyprus to prey on merchant vessels, and, during the final period of al-Afdal’s vizierate he even financed the Armenian nobles in Cilicia that opposed the Rhōmaîon hegemony. After al-Afdal was assassinated, the Caliphate fell into another period of instability and factionalism, and abandoned their actions against the Empire, and made only feeble efforts to prevent the Frankish expansionism in the Levant, as we have already described in previous chapters.

    It was in the reign of Emperor John II Komnenos that the relations between Constantinople and Cairo ameliorated, by the initiative of the former, it seems. The Rhōmaîon were now more concerned with restoring their rule over the provinces of eastern Anatolia and Armenia, and, once both the Fāṭimīd Caliphate and the Seljuk Sultanate became weakened, allowing the Empire to arise from a face of certain ruin and reassert itself as the paramount entity in the Orient. These same circumstances, however, permitted the rapid growth and consolidation of the Crusader State, and this alarmed the late Komnenos monarch. The annexation of Palestine and Coele-Syria had been nothing short of impressive, but the conquest of Damascus was a shocking and unforeseen event, and soon enough it inspired a veiled rapprochement between the Empire and the Caliphate; the Crown of Constantinople now saw the necessity of preserving the ailing Fāṭimīds as a regional power to balance the Frankish military presence in the Levant. Under John Komnenos, the Rhōmaîon statecraft was double-edged: it sought to keep the Latin-Levantines and the Crusaders in Europe in line, but also to harness their immense potential as a military asset to fulfill the Empire’s objectives -, and this they did, in earnest, during the Second Crusade, by campaigning in Turkish-occupied Syria, Armenia and Jaziria - all while giving the Fāṭimīds some breathing space. All of this certainly contributed to the Rhōmaîon’s reputation for unscrupulous diplomacy, but it required astute judgment and the foresight that it was necessary for the Empire’s survival.

    Not for any other reason, the unpredicted and unwarranted aggression against Egypt by the German Crusaders, in the very end of the Second Crusade, elicited a stern and vehement diplomatic reaction from John Komnenos against them, and soured the relations with the Latin-Levantines until the end of his reign. If he certainly could not disclose his intent of maintaining Egypt as an adversary to the Crusaders - lest it might cast the Rhōmaîon as traitors to the cause of Christianity in the Holy Land, and, perhaps even justify hostile action by the ever-belligerent princes of Europe - he did issue formal complaints to the Pope, to the Kings of Germany and Hungary, and to the Archbishop of Jerusalem, among other Frankish potentates, arguing that such events could only conspire against the well-being of the Christians residing in the Levant, because it would incite immediate retaliation from the Egyptians. It is interesting to note that, in these exchanges, a few of whose survived in fragments mentioned in contemporary texts, the Saracens of the Nile are portrayed as powerful warmongers and formidable warriors, fanatic in their devotion towards their “Pharaoh”, compared to the Biblical character that became the nemesis of Moses and the Hebrews in the Book of Exodus, a depiction fairly divorced from the reality, because by then the Caliphs were mere figureheads to ambitious viziers, and their army, albeit large, was profoundly fractured by political disputes.

    In any case, after the Second Crusade ended, in 1144, the Franks in the Levant did not deign to produce a serious hostile action against the Caliphate for almost twenty years, not solely because of they had been cowed by the fiasco, but because they were inhibited from doing so by the Emperor in Constantinople, who then found in Archbishop Suger a convenient accomplice. Until the last year of John’s reign, the Latin-Levantines were enticed to campaign solely against the Turkish and Kurdish princelings of Armenia and Syria, while the Italian maritime republics, especially Venice, adopted a more amiable stance towards Cairo to ensure the unimpeded flow of commerce from the Red Sea to the Mediterranean. It certainly helped, also, the occurrence of various destructive wars in the European kingdoms, notably in France, in Italy and in Germany, that dissolved any interest in a new Crusade.

    Once again, however, the circumstances changed once the transfer of power in Constantinople occurred after John’s death, succeeded by his last-born son Manuel. While he was, in some respects, similar to his father, and, during the first years of his reign, he maintained the same policies already in course, soon enough he changed the diplomatic stance towards the Caliphate.

    Even when centuries have elapsed after these events now described in this Chronicle, it is from knowing about Manuel’s actions and policies that we can interpret his objectives, and from the contemporary sources and documents that we can infer his reasoning. Like his predecessors, Manuel was a domineering autocrat whose geopolitical preeminence in Europe was predicated on his position as the latest inheritor of the ancient Roman institutional, political and religious legacy, as well as of a statesman that held supreme political power in one of the most formidable polities of the Mediterranean. Desiring to impose the Rhōmaîon hegemony over this part of the Earth, and dreaming of honoring the memory of his precursors in the throne of Constantinople, he was all too willing to sacrifice the Fāṭimīds in an effort to restore the Imperial presence in Egypt and in Africa. The very fact that, in spite of the fiasco, the Crusaders had so easily plunged into Nile valley, demonstrated to Manuel that the military capacity of the Fāṭimīds was ebbing, even if it still had vast resources and massive manpower to become a formidable power in its own right, provided it was harnessed by capable hands in the Caliphal government. Beyond that, Manuel harbored fears that the Latin-Levantines could act on their own against Egypt - as they had done previously, more than once -, or, even worse, it was only a matter of time before a new Crusade would be proclaimed to reduce Egypt, claiming it to the Latins. And Manuel, who had his own ambitions, could not suffer either of these scenarios. No, Aigyptos was an integral part of the Empire, one that had been cowardly usurped by the Arabs half-a-millennium ago, but was considered still a core province of the Politeia tōn Rhōmaiōn. To achieve this, Manuel expected that the Franks could perform as coadjuvants and to receive their prizes of conquest only by his own magnanimity.


    II. Of the Armenians that Remained Loyal to the Empire

    Now, we must delve in the understanding of the causes that led the Armenians to become friends and allies of Rhōmanía.

    After the fall of the Kingdom of Armenia to the Turks, hundreds if not thousands of Armenians were displaced or departed to foreign lands, especially those that used to live in the depredated core of their realm. While those of the dispossessed nobility went to either Rhōmanía or to Cilicia, to northern Syria and to Mesopotamia, or to the Caucasus to seek new fortunes and estates, many others, those who did not bear arms, mostly traders, craftsmen and artisans, migrated to the more urbanized provinces then ruled by the Fāṭimīds in Syria, in Palestine and in Egypt, to find other livelihoods. A handful of them converted to Shi’ite Islam to be integrated into the Fāṭimīd society and access the bureaucratic apparatus, but others remained faithful to their Christian creed.

    When al-Afdal Shahanshah/Lavendalius ascended to the vizierate - himself son of a Muslim Armenian ghulam, Badr al-Jamali, who had risen to prominence during the wars against the Seljuks in Syria - the standing of the Armenians in Fāṭimīd society was significantly elevated. Even if al-Afdal could only bestow political favor to Muslim coreligionists (and Shiites in this regard), he did not deign to provide assistance and acknowledgment for their exiled countrymen who had remained Christian, because, by the onset of the First Crusade, they formed a significant minority in Fustat, Alexandria and other populous urban centers, whole political chiefs and spokespersons were parochial bishops.

    After the demise of al-Afdal, his son Kutayfāt was eventually deposed and gave place to Bahram al-Armani - who, as the nisba indicates, was of Armenian blood as well - who gave special privileges to his countrymen, irrespective of their faiths, and consolidated their position in the military. His regime was, however, brief, and soon he was overthrown by by Ridwan ibn Walakhshi, a Sunni generalissimo of Arab origin, who, excited by the Arabian elements of the government, pivoted a backlash against Armenians, notably the Christians, and eventually against Copts and Syriacs, which resulted in they being deprived from positions of power and submitted to discriminatory measures, such as increased taxes, confiscations and sumptuary laws. Ridwan’s vizierate was itself very short because he was unpopular due to his Sunnite affiliation, and his ambition and recklessness alienated those who had initially supported him. His bold attempt of overthrowing the Caliph and placing himself as sovereign ruler was discovered by men loyal to the reigning dynasty, and resulted in his capture and execution. The persecution against Christians in Egypt, however, continued in earnest, enforced by other strong-handed viziers such as Ibn Masal, a circumstance that only exacerbated the internal instability in the Caliphate, and prevented them from overturning the tide of Crusader occupation in the Levant.

    To the surprise of the Armenian communities in the Caliphate, who had grown used with oppression under the Viziers, once Manuel Komnenos was crowned, he duly approached the Egyptian-Armenian communities and presented himself as their benefactor and protector, initiating diplomatic overtures to Cairo so as to urge the Caliphs to protect their Armenian Christian subjects from excesses and from tyranny of their lieutenants. Thus far, the narrative adopted by the Armenians in diaspora, from Anatolia to Egypt, was one that cast the Rhōmaîoi Basileus as callous oppressor, a perception derived from the policies of Alexios I and John II Komnenos - the former, after vassalizing the Armenian principality in Cilicia, ignominiously deposed the Rubenids and other nobles, and the latter, after the Second Crusade, removed Armenians from the newly reconquered provinces, dissolving their clans in the mainland European territories of the Empire, and repopulated the desolate plain-lands of Armenia with other gentes, such as the Greeks, the Bulgarians, the Vlachs and the Croats, so as to prevent emancipationist sentiments in the region. Manuel, on the other hand, was more favorable to Armenians, and apparently meant for the protection of the communities in diaspora.

    It happened due to the influence of Manuel’s wife, Basilissa Sophia Vanandi, a noblewoman that descended from the Bagratuni, the former royal dynasty of Armenia. During the reign of his predecessor and father, Manuel had been married to Sophia so as to bind the Komnenoi to an indigenous dynasty and thus, hopefully, attribute more significant legitimacy to the Rhōmaîon rule in Armenia. At the time, it was not a prestigious setup, because Manuel was John’s fourth son and was not expected to rise to the throne, but it was seemingly a happy union, and it ensured the expansion of the Komnenoi dynasty, with the birth of three sons, Alexios, Andronikos and Alexander [Gr. Alexándros], all of whom did survive to adulthood. After becoming Basilissa, Sophia induced Manuel to look after the Armenian communities over the whole Orient, including those subjects to the Islamic potentates.

    As he devised the plans for an invasion of Egypt, the Basileus sponsored a network of agents among more loyal elements of the Armenian exiles in the Fāṭimīd Caliphate - most of them bishops and lowly clergymen, but also traders and servicemen - to gather intelligence to prepare for a dedicated military operation. It helped, actually, the fact that after 1154, the new vizier, Tala’i ibn Ruzzik was another one of Armenian origin, and thus some Armenians affiliated to the Rhōmaîon interests gained access to the upper echelons in the Fāṭimīd court in Cairo.

    The window of opportunity for the Rhōmaîon opened in 1160, when the child Caliph Al-Fa’iz suddenly passed away, and Ibn Ruzzik placed on the throne another underage suzerain, Al-ʿĀḍid. Then, the Empire was at peace, but its purported allies in Europe failed to join for the preparations in time, and promised to gather only in the following years. Afterwards, the initial movements were aborted when the embassies in Constantinople received the news about the death of King Ladislaus II of Hungary, Manuel’s principal ally in Europe, and of Archbishop Suger’s death in the Holy Land. As soon as Manuel heard about the outbreak of the war in the Crusader State, he immediately took steps to end it, because the Franks were his principal allies in the Levant, and needed to be preserved as such.


    III. Of the Allies and of the Latins in Service of the Empire

    In the days of Manuel Komnenos, there were various races in service of the Empire, and, due to their relevance in the military incursions of the age, and especially in the war against Egypt, a mention must be given to the Latins. While many of them had served during the reigns of Alexios and John, most notably the English, the Normans and the Lombards, in the reign of Manuel, their numbers grew tenfold, and they came from many races, alongside the already famous Normans and English: of the French, being them Burgundians, Flemish and Champaignois; of the Germans, such as the Swabians, Saxons and Franconians; of the Italians, certainly from the lands of Tuscany, Spoleto, Benevento and Campania; of the Hungarians, the Carinthians and the Croatians, among others which would make their listings too long. While many, especially nobles and armed gentry, came as mercenaries, such as Theodoric of Flanders, who campaigned for four years against the Hungarians in the end of Emperor John’s reign, some eventually became integrated permanently into the Rhōmaiōn army and received grants of land and revenues from the Emperor.

    Indeed, it is known that Emperor Manuel was an enthusiast of the traditions and ways of the Latins, and sought to emulate among his the peoples subject to him, the Greeks and Asians, their martial ethos. Accordingly, the imperial capital saw many games, such as tournaments and jousts, and festivities inspired in those of France and Italy, to the discomfort of now a few courtiers. In his correspondence with the Catholic monarchs, Manuel consistently solicited the exemption of valiant knights from the feudal service, so that they might come to serve the cause of Christ in the Orient, to protect the holy places - which actually meant to serve the cause of the Empire.

    These Latinikoi that sold their arms and valor, be they permanent vassals or temporary collaborators, were coalesced into a united corps by Manuel, headed by an official named “Domestic of the Latins” [Greek: Domestikos tõn Latinikoi]. In 1163, shortly before the declaration of war against Egypt was to be issued, Manuel granted the office to a Swabian magnate, Frederick of Zollern [Germ. Friedrich von Zollern]; one who, after the failed uprising of the Hohenstaufens against the Welfs, was dispossessed and banished from the Empire. Coming to Constantinople as a mercenary, he distinguished himself in Manuel’s very first military action, the war against the Serbians and Hungarians, then against the Ruthenians. In 1160, rewarded with the title of Patrician [Patrikios], Frederick married into Rhōmaiōn aristocracy and eventually became progenitor of a long-lived lineage, the Tzoleringoi. But it is more likely that the position was given to him by the circumstance that he had more intimate knowledge about the interior of Egypt, having participated in the catastrophic Crusade against Egypt led by his former liege lord, Duke Frederick II of Swabia and Duke Henry X of Bavaria.

    According to John Kinnamos, who allegedly collected the eyewitness testimony of Frederick detailing events of the Second Crusade, the Germans, upon traversing the Sinai desert, were haunted by sinister omens, and, believing that the expedition had been forsaken by God because they had refused the leadership of the Basileus, became devoid of courage and prowess, and thus they were decimated by the heathens, with thousands of them having died to serve as feast for jackals. If we take the narrative at face value, we discover that the Franks, unsettled by the unforgiving heat of Egypt, assailed by venomous critters and dangerous beasts that infested the land, and consumed by pestilent mortalities, formed an army of famished beggars when they arrived near the city of Bilbeis, whereupon they were attacked by the bloodthirsty Saracens and mercilessly massacred and enslaved. The magnanimous Emperor John, however, procured a large treasure from among the riches of the Empire to ransom and free the captive Franks from the clutches of the tyrannical Caliph, and many of the Germans, indebted to the Emperor, paid homage to him and bade the priests and bishops of Germany to pronounce his name in the masses for many years afterwards. While it is probable that part of the narrative is fabricated by Kinnamos - we know that John Komnenos did pay an exorbitant ransom in favor of some imprisoned Crusaders, but nothing more -, and that he, as other contemporary authors, portrays the Latins as superstitious and brutish, so as to contrast with the perspicacious and shrewd Rhōmaiōi, this illustrates the concern of the Rhōmaiōn intelligentsia to explain the causes of the failure of a Crusade, which, according to their worldview, was guided by God, and, perhaps, to legitimize Manuel’s own attempt at leading a Crusade.

    It is almost certain that Manuel, being acquainted with veterans of the Second Crusade, knew mistakes they had committed and would not repeat them.


    ******​


    In the international arena, his principal allies, besides those already employed as standing soldiers and hired mercenaries, were the Republics of Ancona and Ragusa, both of whom had accepted direct Imperial suzerainty, to counterbalance the ascension of the Republic of Venice in the Adriatic Sea. Manuel also proposed treaties to the Republics of Genoa and Pisa, and granted them unprecedented commercial and legal privileges, and even concessions in ports in Paphlagonia and Trebizond to the former and in Cyprus and Crete to the latter, in exchange for their naval assets. The establishment of these treaties excited great concern to the German Emperor and to the Norman Prince of Sicily, both of whom had designs in Italy and in the Mediterranean, and feared the creation of a league of the Italians and Rhōmaîoi.

    The Republic of Venice was too, by treaty, allied to Rhōmanía, and will participate in the war against Egypt. However, their immense appetite for wealth and their pretense to assume prominence over the other Italian states made them very unreliable partners, and they correctly saw Manuel’s movements as a comprehensive maneuver to contain Venetian ambitions in the Mediterranean. In response, they would soon form an alliance with the Empire’s traditional nemesis, Sicily.

    Another nation allied to the Empire, in the eve of the war of Egypt, was the Kingdom of Hungary. In the middle of 1162 A.D., soon after the death of King Géza II, succeeded by the teen aged Stephen III [Hung. István], Manuel immediately invaded Hungary, so as to install late Géza’s brother, also named Stephen, in the throne. The Magyar nobility consented with the deposition of Géza’s son Stephen, but, instead of accepting the pretender Stephen, presented Ladislaus [Hung. László], his elder brother, as a compromise candidate. Manuel, believing that his goal had been fulfilled, acquiesced. As soon as Ladislaus was crowned, Manuel exacted from him the oath of allegiance and the promise of pledging soldiers for the upcoming incursion against the Saracens.

    Surprisingly, however, Ladislaus died in just a semester, and was succeeded by his brother Stephen (IV). Stephen was thoroughly loyal to the Emperor, having married to Maria Komnene, Manuel’s niece, and even accepted the baptism according to the Greek rite, and thus he punctually obliged to provide an army to venture into Egypt. Seeing, however, that the clergy, spearheaded by Archbishop Lucas [Hung. Lukács] of Esztergom, and a substantial part of the nobility still recognized Stephen III as being the legitimate holder to the title, the recently enthroned monarch remained in his nation and delegated the leadership of the Hungarian army to the Count of Csanád. Predictably, this very episode, coupled with the resentment of the Hungarian aristocracy towards Constantinopolitan interference, would precipitate Stephen’s downfall shortly a year after his accession.

    Finally, there would be among the allies those from the gentes of the Ruthenians, a race coming from the princedom of Galicia, whose potentate, Yaroslav [Osmomysl], was a friend of the Basileus. Truthful to the oath of allegiance, Yaroslav provided eight hundreds of archers to the Empire.


    IV. A War or a Crusade?

    While his predecessors in the throne had harbored some distrust over the Crusade a movement, seeing them as a dangerous agglomerations which had to be carefully harnessed to prevent violation of the Imperial domain and sovereignty, Manuel saw the usefulness of incorporating the Crusadist rhetoric as an ideological device to emphasize his own temporal and religious authority, and to garner support from the Latin polities.

    In Catholic Christendom the intelligence of Pope Stephen X had developed the principal topoi of Crusadist doctrine, inspired by concepts such as the Augustinian bellum iustum and the Petrine supremacy. His writings were the first that provided a systematic doctrine to describe and justify the idea of Crusade, and also of the armed monastic fraternities, of which he was an enthusiast. In his concept, there are three defining criteria of a Crusading movement: (1) its promulgation by the Supreme Pontiff or a spiritual authority under Papal delegation, and never a secular one, always at the instigation of the Divine inspiration; (2) its objective, which must always be the preservation of the Church, of holy places or the faithful, be it by defensive or offensive action, such as the conversion or subjugation of the infidels, or even to avenge past grievances against the faith; (3) the existence of a spiritual reward for the participants, such as the remissions of sins, immortality through martyrdom, and the entrance into the House of God.

    In Rhōmanía, in the intellectual circles of the early 13th Century, especially of the Orthodox Church, the idea of Crusading, or even of a holy war, was met with a remarkable skepticism; to these, the very premise of a spiritual authority declaring war, even against infidels, was abhorrent, and violated the thirteenth canon of St. Basil [“Our Fathers did not consider killings in war to be murders, but, in my opinIon, pardoned those who fight in defence of virtue and piety. Still, it is perhaps well to advise them to abstain only from communion for three years, since their hands are not clean”].

    In the age of Manuel, however, when the Crusades, having achieved definitive success, acquired a veneer of legitimacy derived from its supposed divine guidance, many voices came to accept and justify the idea of a sacrosanct conflict, and attempted to conform it with the mores of contemporary Rhōmaîon worldview by consolidating their own theological apology. Drawing from historical precedents to sustain it - notably the examples of Emperors Heraclius, Constans and Nikephoros Phokas, all of whom had been dedicated champions of the religion against the Persians and the Arabs -, this new doctrine emphasized the duty of the eternal Christian Empire of protecting the Holy Land, and in the respective shrines, which had been entrusted to the care of the Emperor since the age of Constantine.

    In the Orient, Manuel Komnenos was thus the first monarch to absorb and adopt the Crusadist doctrine into the overarching premise of temporal superiority that served as the bedrock of caesaropapism, supported by various of his contemporaries of the intellectual circles of the court, most notably Andronikos Kamateros - whose work, “Sacred Arsenal” explicitly attributes the temporal and spiritual leadership of the Crusades to the Rhōmaîon Emperor, based on the historical precedent of Heraclius I, the same one who, during the late Komnenoi period received the sobriquet of “First Crusader” -, and also Euthymios Malakes, and, in later decades, by Theodore Balsamon and Patriarch Michael III of Constantinople. In this newly conceived model, the See of Rome, equated to the other Patriarchates of the Pentarchy, was confined to a secondary, almost accessory position, of merely blessing the Crusade, while the Emperor, by the virtue of the Constantinian inheritance and of his mastery over the Christian nations, held the power to declare war and concord peace with the unfaithful peoples, and to lead their armies in battle, guided by divine will.

    Needless to say, this position of Imperial omnipotence in Crusading was never really accepted in the Catholic intellectual sphere, whose dogma was solidly based on the premise of Papal supremacy.

    When this purported "Rhōmaîon Crusade" against Egypt was indeed initiated, in 1164 A.D., Pope Stephen X had recently died, and thus could not voice any word of support or criticism, and neither would his successors, embroiled as they were to be in the armed conflicts of the Catholic world.


    In the next, two-part chapter, the Byzantines and the Franks (finally) invade Fatimid Egypt.







    Notes and Comments: I admit that when I wrote the final chapter about the Second Crusade, the appearance of the Germans (Bavarians and Swabians) came almost as an afterthought, and this explains why their mention was so short and anticlimactic. Writing this current chapter, I figured it would be important to give at least a few words about this failed German expedition, and how it impacted in the relations between John Komnenos and the Crusaders. On the other hand, it was important to explore one of Manuel's justifications for the war. Why now? This is an attempt of explaining it and giving plausible reasons for him to do so, and to give some more meaning to the events that I gave very little detail when I wrote about them.

    Manuel's wife is fictional. ITTL, his marriages to Agnes of France and Maria of Antioch do not happen, considering that neither of them became proeminent.


    According to the Wiki, it seems that Ancona did accept vassalage to Manuel. There isn't much detail on how it happened, but it did attract Venetian hostility - indeed, Venice triumphed in the end, and eventually crushed Ancona, reducing it to into the footnotes of History as a minor Italian maritime state. I tried to incorporate it ITTL with more plausible reasons. On the other hand, the alliance between the Venetians and the Siculo-Normans is a fictional one, but, I believe, not too far from plausibility, considering that Manuel made enemies of both of them in his lifetime (Venice in 1171 and Sicily in the 1150s).

    The piece regarding the succession of the Hungarian throne is entirely historical, excepting, obviously, the participation of the new Hungarian claimants in Manuel's War against Egypt. Manuel did intervene after Geza II's death, and attempted to install Stephen IV against Stephen III, but the nobles appointed Ladislaus, and Manuel accepted. Stephen III will return soon to claim his throne, however, and we'll see more about it in next chapter.

    Those who know some from the biography of Bernard of Clairvaux will know that he was one of the first Church authorities that sponsored the Templars IOTL, and it was because of his support that they obtained their "Rule" and were recognized as legitimate in the eyes of the Papacy. He was, also, the main historical supporter of the Second Crusade, at the behest of Pope Eugenius. Thus, I figured that, ITTL, in capacity as Pope himself, Bernard would have taken these projects to the next level, directly by his own hand. It is nice to see that, unlike in our History, here the Crusade becomes an actual institutional concept, one that will be appropriated in the theological debates between the Christian denominations. We can expect that others denominations might even provide their own versions of this Catholic-centered doctrine.


    Finally, it is worth mentioning that, once again, according to the Wiki, Ibn Ruzzik’s naval campaign against the Levant has historical basis. I couldn't find much detail, because his biography, like that of the other late Fatimid viziers, is fairly incomplete and difficult to come across useful details, but it seems that he was the last Fatimid Vizier that attempted to counterattack against the Franks, and even tried to make an alliance with Nur ad-Din, but was coup'ed soon thereafter.
     
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    60. The Rhõmaíõn Crusade For Egypt (1164-1166 A.D.) [Part 1/2]
  • 60. THE RHÕMAIÕN CRUSADE FOR EGYPT (Part 1/2)



    640px-Byzantine_Greek_Alexander_Manuscript_Cataphract_(cropped).jpg


    Non-contemporary (c. 14th A.D.) illustration depicting a siege conducted by the Rhōmaîon army in Egypt. The equestrian figure depicted in golden armor is thought to be Basileus Manuel Komnenos.



    I. The Hosts in Movement

    In the months of March and April, 1164 A.D., a Rhōmaîon army assembled in Iconium, comprising mostly the men-at-arms and cavalry from the various themata of Asia, whose names are many. The overall command was given to John Doukas Komnenos governor of the Charsianon theme and Manuel’s nephew, the column marched to Tyana, and then to Caesarea, thus circumventing the Taurus range - the same itinerary followed by the participants of the First Crusade and by Alexios Komnenos decades before - and in Melitene they merged with an Armenian party whose leader was Thoros, Duke of Cilicia. From there, they marched to Antioch and descended the Levant along the valley of the Orontes, aggregating Syrian conscripts and Turkish mercenaries into their ranks. John Doukas’ army would perform as a vanguard, to join the army of the Franks in Palestine, as soon as they assembled, in Caesarea.

    The command of the armies levied from the European themata, those from the nations of Greece, Thrace, Macedonia and Epirus, was confided to Megas Doux Alexios Komnenos, and to Constantine Kalamanos - the son of Boris, a deceased pretender to the throne of Hungary - who would lead the cavalry auxiliaries, such as the assimilated Pechenegs and Vardariotes, as well as Cuman allies. Crossing the Hellespont by the way of Abydos, they followed a more extensive way by following the Aegean and then the Mediterranean coast. They were accompanied, in the sea, by a part of the fleet, which sailed from Greece, and, when they rendezvoused in Samos, the peoples and the beasts were ferried to Rhodes, and then to Cyprus, and, finally, to Frankish Tripoli, whereupon they traversed by overland.

    The largest army was the third one to go on march, to be headed by the Basileus himself, assisted by his lieutenant, Prōtostratōr Alexios Axouch - who had been responsible for gathering this army in Serdica and then conducting it to Nicaea, whereupon they joined with the Tagmata, the Varangians, the Latinikon, and other units subordinated directly to the Autocrat. It included professional soldiers from Bulgaria and Serbia, and also those from the foreign allies, such as the Hungarians, the Croatians and the Russians. Manuel, seeing that this army would be composed by so many nations and races, saw fit to command it in person, so that his own presence and will was to bind them together. The sheer size of the host made its march slow, but, sustained by goods collected from supply depots previously replenished in the themata of Asia, they crossed the whole of Anatolia, from the north in Nicaea to the south in Attaleia, at remarkable speed. There, they would be transported in ships to Antioch, and from there continue overland, but escorted by the navy.

    Adverse climate, however, prevented their sea transportation, and thus Manuel’s army became stranded for more than a month in the Mediterranean coast of Anatolia, but Alexios Komnenos and Constantine Kalamanos arrived fairly quickly in Palestine. In the Frankish Outremer, the arrival of these two large armies, the one from Asia, and the one from Europe, was met with a mixture of celebration and apprehension, due to the logistical difficulties of providing food, shelter and other daily resources, but Manuel had foreseen this, and kept a fleet operational to furnish goods from southern Anatolia and from Cyprus to the Levant.

    Evidently the armies had been fragmented and sent in distinct parts because of the immense logistical necessities that the movement of such a large army would entail - the largest one to traverse Anatolia and Levant ever since the First Crusade. Food, water and drink were staples, and the difficulties of preserving perishable goods forced them to carry utensils such as jars, ovens and carts to carry grain, liquids, oil, and others. There had to be available textiles for clothing; metals not only for weapons, but also for daily items; plenty of wood for construction and repairs; the presence of beasts of burden, cattle for consumption and for riding, from oxen to horses, and from sheep to camels, created various necessities, to provide forage and shelter. Knowing that the movements of these armies would certainly drain the resources of the provinces through which they marched, the Basileus provided fleets to keep them supplied, but even this, over the course of a whole year, strained the supply network, especially in Asia, and more even by the fact that the summer season in the Orient was significantly dry and hot, circumstances that made the armies march slowly and demand more staples to be able to march. And then, even the usage of naval transports for replenishment was not guaranteed to provide adequate logistical support, because wind-powered vessels were mostly dependent on the goodwill and guidance of Zephyrus. In late 1164 A.D., for example, with the coming of autumn, a violent storm wrecked various ships near Tripoli coming from Attaleia, and thus hundreds of consumables and animals were sacrificed to the sea, an episode that forced Manuel - then marching across the Palestine - to detach a part of his army and send them back to Syria-Phoenicia to await for another batch of supplies, lest his soldiers might starve even before they reach their destination.

    The Basileus had purposefully limited the conscription of levies - fearing that the expedition might last well beyond the campaigning season, which would force him to disband the non-professional conscripts during winter - and of unnecessary non-combatants that usually came with the soldiery, such as their wives, children and kinsmen, prostitutes and dancers, tradesmen and entertainers. This meant that the three armies, including those of his allies and mercenaries, were mostly comprised by professional soldiers, maintained by their respective salaries and stipends, a very unusual occurrence in this period, whereas the knightly and gentry classes dedicated to war formed a small part of mostly conscripted armies. Predictably, the financial costs for upkeep were massive, but the Basileus believed that the expedition would pay for itself once they harnessed the fabled wealth of Egypt, which, according to legend, had been accumulated ever since the age of the Pharaoh. There was, nonetheless, a vast following of non-combatants of various specialties: cooks, fishermen and brewers, grooms and shepherds, smiths, woodworkers, tanners, and countless others, whose services were needed to allow for fixtures of daily life in camp.


    ******​


    When the Basileus arrived in Syria, he found out that the army of John Doukas Komnenos, which had been idle for months in Palestine, had returned back to the north, and was camped near the border, from whence they could receive resources from Antioch, Laodicea and Aleppo, while the one commanded by his cousin Alexios and by Constantine Kalamanos had gone to Tripoli and then fragmented, with half of it was dissolved to procure forage and goods. As it happened, their long stay in Palestine, a land notorious for the scarcity of resources, elicited insistent protests by Raymond of Caesarea and Archbishop Bernard, who had argued that the whole Outremer would starve if they remained there, and, even worse, in a breach of the treaties between the nations, the Franks began to exact extortionate prices for simple staples such as cheese and wine, a circumstance that infuriated and alienated the Rhōmaîoi.

    After John Doukas and Megas Doux Alexios returned to Syria, and the latest fleets from Italy finally arrived - that being the one of the Genoese and of the Pisans -, the Franks, commanded by Raymond of Caesarea and his associate grandees, and together with the Italian navies, invaded Egyptian territory in an attempt to reduce the now fortified town of Farama. They gave up the siege upon receiving a herald from Manuel, who ordered them to await for the arrival of the Rhōmaîon armies. To Manuel's consternation, though, Raymond disbanded most of his army so that the farmers could return to their homes for the sowing season, while the Genoese and the Venetians simply disregarding Manuel’s orders and undertook various raids against the coastal ports of Egypt over the following weeks, while the Anconitans and Ragusans remained idle, harbored in Tripoli and Beirut.

    By the time that he arrived in Palestine, already in the month of August, the combined armies of Megas Doux Alexios and John Doukas had indeed trespassed into Egypt, by the way of the Sinai, supported by a part of his fleet, but the Latin-Levantines had yet to re-muster their own troops to join the campaign.

    It was only in September that the whole army reunited, already inside Egypt, to besiege Damietta [Arab.: Dimyat] and Tinnis, in the eastern flank of the Nile Delta, having taken Farama by storm.


    II. The Capture of Rosetta and of Alexandria

    In this part of the Earth, between Asia and Africa, summer is too torrid and dry, and thus autumn is very much welcomed by all the races due to its milder temperatures. In Egypt, in particular, the final months of the year are those in which the floodwaters of the Nile recede, facilitating the movement of armies. In spite of the delays and misconceived operations, the arrival of the self-proclaimed Crusaders of Rhōmanía was timely, because it coincided with some of the best months of the Egyptian year. The window of opportunity, however, was a short one, because the harvest had long since ended, and the army would depend, to survive, on the acquisition of foods already collected and stored for winter. The winter season, by itself, was inappropriate for campaigning, meaning that the host would have to be demobilized.

    The problem was that their winter quarters of the Rhōmaîoi were situated in Syria. Capturing cities and lands in Lower Egypt was, then, a strategic imperative, and Manuel devised a bold stratagem. While the main part of the allied army would reduce Tinnis, Damietta and Sammanud [ancient Sebennytos], opening the road of the Sinai to them, the Rhōmaîon and Italian fleets would be committed to attack, by sea, the largest urban centers of the coast, those being Rosetta [Arab: Rashid] and Alexandria [Arab.: al-Iskandariya]. With this, he intended to subjugate the principal metropolises of the Nile Delta.

    More than three hundred ships were outfitted, drawn from the various nations of Rhōmanía and from the allies, mainly the Italians and the Ragusans, and now, together in a single fleet, they easily eliminated the Fāṭimīd presence in the Mediterranean.

    They remembered that sixty years before, a combined Rhōmaiōn and Italian fleet had decisively defeated the Fāṭimīd navy in the Battle of Sidon (1109). The Saracens, ever since, never recovered their naval capacities. The reconstruction of a fleet was a hard task, even more so for Egypt, because it lacked timber and iron; the main suppliers, in the Mediterranean, were precisely the Franks. Facing a shortage of resources even in those years, Vizier al-Afdal had attempted to acquire it from Al-Andalus, but the fiscal pressure of renewing the fleet proved too great, and, after he died, the attempt was abandoned. Decades later, when the German princes unexpectedly invaded Egypt, in the ending year of the Second Crusade, Vizier Ibn Maṣāl resumed the efforts, and expropriated and repurposed merchant ships operating in the Red Sea to function as a prospective fleet to protect the Nile Delta, employing conscripts and slaves to operate them, and financed Tunisian pirates to act in the behalf of the Caliphate. It was used to great effect by Tala'i ibn Ruzzik, who coordinated the last naval operations in the Mediterranean, and even sacked the port of Beirut. It was, however, a lost cause. Since they lost the Levantine ports, their range of movement was severely limited, and they could scantly threaten the Frankish dominion, by now all too consolidated. Now, in 1164 A.D., this diminished naval remnant was utterly annihilated by the numerically superior adversary, and thus the coast of Egypt became vulnerable to attack.


    ******​


    Manuel’s strategy was a risky one, at best. Oversea maneuvers against coastal centers demanded a significant logistical investment, not only to secure the necessary resources for the transportation of troops, but also to keep them literally at bay if they failed to disembark and obtain a defined position in the littoral, which, as a consequence, would hinder the acquisition of victuals and other resources. In the meantime, once a beachhead was established, if they failed to obtain a fortified position, the disembarked forces would be vulnerable to the counterattack of the defending forces, and replenishment of casualties would be short of impossible.

    As it happened, however, Fortune did favor the bold, in this case, the Christians. After a bad spell of tempestuous weather, the Rhōmaiōi and Italians blockaded Rosetta, a fortified town situated in the western mouth of the Nile. Hundreds of them successfully disembarked in the sandy isthmus situated between the sea and Lake Burullus, and, after crossing the Nile unimpeded, they put the city to siege through its western walls. In short notice, siege engines were employed, likely by assembling prefabricated parts, while the warships assaulted the town with artillery bombardments over its walls. Perhaps due to the fact that the city was relatively far from the national border, and that the main seat of government in the region was Alexandria, Rosetta had only a small garrison, one which, during the assault, remained quartered in the citadel near the shore of the Nile and did little to thwart the Christian advance.

    By the time that the army of Alexandria arrived, expecting to relieve the siege, Rosetta had already been taken, with its defenses overcome, and the city ransacked. The governor of Alexandria was a certain Humam, better known by his honorific Nāṣir ad-Dīn [Latinized Naziradinus], brother of the current Vizier, al-Ḍirghām al-Lukhamī. Nāṣir ad-Dīn attempted to retake Rosetta by force, believing that the Christians could not reestablish the city's defenses so quickly, but he immediately had to return to Alexandria when he heard that a Venetian fleet had blockaded the city and attempted to take the harbor by force.

    Once again, the preferred modus operandi of the assailants consisted of a naval bombardment, employing trebuchets and onagers, to instill fear in the hearts of the Saracens and to dispirit them in their hapless duty of defending the walls. This time, however, they did not disembark, and this left Nāṣir ad-Dīn in a difficult position for three consecutive days, until the ammunition of the attackers depleted. Only then did they attempt, again, to storm the fortifications by penetrating through the harbor. The attack was initiated in the dark of night, but the Egyptians were ready to fight. The besiegers successfully wrestled control of the harbor, but were now stranded in a tactical quagmire, because they needed to overcome the Saracens and their sturdy defenses in the second largest metropolis of the Caliphate. Nāṣir ad-Dīn, realizing their position was hopeless, repelled their attacks and thus his men gained confidence. He needed time, however, for reinforcements to arrive from his brother, because the men at his disposal were outnumbered by the assailants.

    The tide of the battle turned when another Christian army arrived overland, in the following week, having traversed the isthmus of Lake Mariout [Arab: Maryūṭ]: these were the men which had recently stormed Rosetta, and now, having seemingly abandoned their position there, they came to besiege Alexandria from its eastern side. They might have known that Alexandria’s eastern flank was the most vulnerable one to a siege, because it was from the east one accessed the road connecting it to the interior of the country, and now the metropolis was blockaded by both land and sea, a circumstance that demoralized them.

    The siege lasted for barely two weeks, until infighting began inside the city itself, conducted by Coptic and Greek agitators, led by none other than their Patriarch John V [Coptic Yoannis]. The Copts, having suffered various persecutions in the previous decade, welcomed the Christian invaders, and, in particular, the Rhōmaiōn Basileus, as liberators. What is even more startling is the fact that they were supported by some of the Shi’ite Saracens, because they grew to loathe the regime of the Sunni Vizier al-Ḍirghām, believing that he had usurped the throne from the rightful Imam and Caliph. Perhaps they expected that Manuel, who had been less hostile to the Muslims, could restore a semblance of order and political unity in the realm. It is certain, in any case, that Manuel would keenly capitalize on this image, and came to present himself, even among those devoted to Islam, as a restorer of order against hated usurpers. Humam Nāṣir ad-Dīn saw himself forced to sequester himself in the palace, which was eventually stormed, and he was made a prisoner.

    And so it happened that, in an impressive string of triumphs, the Christian allies occupied Rosetta and Alexandria, and, by the time that a reinforcement army from Cairo finally arrived, they had secured too the allegiance of Damanhur [Latinized Damanioris, but better known by its ancient name Hermopolis] and Xois [Arab: Sakha], places with a substantial Coptic population. This Fāṭimīd army was comprised mostly of horsemen, levied from among the Bedouins and mamluks, but led by a cadre of Yemeni cavaliers whose chief was Mulham, another of al-Ḍirghām’s brothers, Nāṣir al-Muslimīn [Latinized Narizalmunzit]. Their mission was to relieve Alexandria, while another, larger army, led by the Vizier himself, would rescue Damietta from the siege.


    III. The Battle of Damietta

    The siege of Damietta was sustained by a large army, supplied almost entirely by sea, so as to avoid the necessity of traversing the Sinai, and by forage. The Pecheneg and Cuman mercenaries were detached and employed as foragers and scouts, while the rest remained in the siege.

    They had recently taken the fortress of Tinnis, which was severely damaged by the use of siege engines, those that we mention below. The stronghold was entrusted to the care of Theodorich of Flanders, a trusted ally of the Basileus, and he immediately provided for the reconstruction of parts of the curtain of walls that had been demolished during the engagement, using rubble from the local houses.

    Manuel brought a number of engineers and operators and they built trebuchets - again, they probably had brought prefabricated parts which were assembled on spot - artillery weapons whose usage was relatively novel in the Orient. They had been used to great effect by the imperial troops during the Second Crusade, facilitating the military acquisition of the Armenian strongholds, but their technology had been significantly refined, especially by the use of a counterweight system, one that made them even more powerful, due to the increasing kinetic energy employed in the missiles. Projectiles were hurled inside the city, to strike its denizens and, once again, instill fear and comply them to surrender. Certainly the shock effect was aggravated by the use of the infamous Greek Fire, an incendiary substance placed inside ceramic vases that, upon impact, immediately became ablaze and could not be quenched by water nor by wine.

    Another novelty which deserves mention, according to John Kinnamos, is the mention of the mass usage of crossbows. These weapons, until the First Crusade, were unknown in Rhōmanía, but were since then adopted by Alexios Komnenos; his successor John provided for large-scale production, realizing that, even if these contraptions were less useful in the field of battle against the Turcomans, they were reliable in siege operations, and fairly more easy to use than bows. Manuel had ensured that his own soldiers would be supplied with a significant number of crossbows, expecting that it would give an edge in this war.

    Now, even in face of the relentless assault, Damietta dared resist. While its denizens were not soldiers, but rather civilians, whose interest in warfare was null, the city, being the principal metropolis closer to the border, was fortified and its rule granted to a Turkish mamluk named Äsem, a loyal lieutenant of the ruling Vizier. In spite of the lack of spirit of the populace, after they suffered so many undignified deaths casualties and destruction, Damietta refused surrender, and this gave al-Ḍirghām the time he needed to assemble his army and to march against them.

    At first, the Saracen general avoided an engagement, fearing that in a pitched battle he would lack advantage due to the numbers of the adversary, and only harassed them.

    As per the norm in the Fāṭimīd army, it was mostly of horsemen, numbering thousands of them, whose way of war had inspirations of the Arabs, as light cavalry, and of the Turks, as archers and lancers. At this point, they were fairly acquainted with the ways of war of the Franks, and employed their preferred tactic of using archery and feigning retreat from the field of battle, so as to attract overeager knights. The tactic did seem to work, when some of the Frankish horsemen - likely those that had recently come from Europe - launched a sortie against the enemy, but were repelled with grave losses. It was, however, the exception rather than the rule: the Christians had erected an improvised defensive camp, using wagons and even parts of dismantled ships, and withstood the siege, believing that Damietta would soon starve - they ought to be consuming all the reserves stored to pass winter. And al-Ḍirghām’s situation was the worst possible one: the besiegers had absolute mastery of the sea, and their ships freely voyaged through the eastern Mediterranean, bringing supplies to the Christians; the Vizier knew that such a display of weakness would instill the boldness of usurpers and might provoke his downfall from among the daggers of courtiers even before the swords of the infidels came to him. While he feared a battle, he needed a quick victory to ensure his position, lest Damietta was to fall too. Not even the fact the Christians were, from the month of November and forward, struggling with a grave epidemic of dysentery seemed to help the Ismaelites, because the defenders of Damietta now resorted to eating dogs and rats to satisfy their hunger.

    In late November, when the winds of the Mediterranean became frigid, kissed by Boreas, the Saracens attempted a desperate attack to expel the besiegers. Apparently an Arab fisherman, known simply as Ahmad, circumvented the blockade and entered the city by swimming in the Nile. Then, requesting an audience with Äsem, he gave the signal for the besieged to launch a sortie concerted with al-Ḍirghām’s army. They executed their plan during the night, and fell en masse upon the camp of the Christians. In the mayhem that ensued, the casualties escalated to various hundreds after various hours of slaughter, but the space was too crowded for the Saracen cavalry to operate adequately, and they, facing spear-men, archers and heavy infantry, were repelled with serious losses too. In the fierce melee in the eastern side of the camp, facing the walls of Damietta, a Bulgarian lancer impaled Äsem, and, in the ensuing bloodshed, many demoralized Turkish mamluks perished, thus leaving the city defenseless. In spite of al-Ḍirghām’s presence, the beleaguered citizens of the city spontaneously proclaimed their surrender, preferring to hope for the mercy of the Christian “polytheists” than to suffer a nightmarish fate of carnage and starvation.

    Once Manuel was welcomed in the city, to the surprise of the besieged and probably of the besiegers alike, the Basileus prohibited his soldiers from sacking the metropolis, and, instead, employed them in the immediate reconstruction of the damaged homes and fortifications. It is almost certain, given the record of battles involving hostile religionaries, that it was the magnanimity of the autocrat that prevented further bloodshed - one, that, it must be said, the Damiettans were likely expecting, considering that the reputation of the Crusaders in Egypt was one of bloodthirsty and rapacity. Instead, the Ismaelites were granted safe conduct to abandon the city, while the Christian inhabitants - mostly Copts, but also Armenians and Syrians - were exempted from tribute.


    ******​


    After the reduction of Damietta, al-Ḍirghām retreated to Bilbeis, expecting to amass a larger army to prevent the inevitable advance of the Christians against Cairo. During winter, however, the momentum of the war reduced. Parts of the Rhōmaîon and Latin-Levantine armies were disbanded, so they could winter in Palestine and in Syria, thus reducing the strain of the logistical necessities of the army that remained in Egypt. The region was proverbially fertile, but in this season, they depended on the goodwill of the local communities in providing for resources stored for their own nourishment. In this regard, the Copts welcomed their correligionaries - certainly the Rhōmaîon more than the Latins - and, influenced by the Patriarch of Alexandria, they obliged to support the war effort.

    Predictably, this only worsened their situation in other parts of the realm: al-Ḍirghām expelled hundreds of them from Cairo, Gizeh and Bilbeis, and forced them to move to either the coastal ports of the Red Sea or to Upper Egypt. As it happened, however, Upper Egypt was enraptured by rebellious elements of his nemesis, the Arab nobleman Shāwar ibn Mujīr al-Saʿdī, the former Vizier, whom al-Ḍirghām had deposed and overthrown after a short rule, in 1162 A.D. Once he came to power, al-Ḍirghām attempted to capture and execute Shāwar, but this one, resourceful as a fox, escaped the clutches of his adversaries and eluded capture. He remained at large in the western deserts, retaining the allegiance of the Bedouins, especially the remnants of the Banu Hillal which had refused the forced migration into Africa; these peoples, recently converted to Ismailism, opposed the ascent of the Sunni elements commanded by al-Ḍirghām, and gave his enemies refuge. Now, just a few years later, as soon as he heard about the Christian offensive, Shāwar returned to Asyūṭ, where he had been governor for various years before his coup. There, he was received as a hero, and obtained the allegiance from various provinces, from there as far as ʾAswān in the border of the realm, rallying those who opposed what they saw as a weak and contemptuous ruler, and promising that he would chase the “polytheists” back to Palestine.

    As one might expect, however, his efforts were directed not against the Rhōmaîoi nor their allies, but rather against al-Ḍirghām’s positions, going as far north as al-Bahnasa [ancient Oxyrrhyncus]. Now, the ruling Vizier sent to the Christians and pleaded for a truce, promising the payment of a tribute in exchange for the interruption of the military operations. The Basileus accepted the terms, and thus the war would be resumed only in the next spring.


    IV. The Fatimids Counterattack

    By the coming of summer, in 1165 A.D., the Christians had obtained control of other important settlements in the Nile Delta. It seems that the Coptic populations in the local communities were fairly favorable to accept the Rhōmaîon autocrat as their new suzerain; the Armenians, doubly so, for the reasons about which we already disclosed in this Chronicle. The Saracens, less so, but their situation was concerning - the Shiites distrusted the Sunni, associated with the leadership of al-Ḍirghām, who had proven unable to deal with the calamity that befell the Caliphate - and they lacked spirit or morale to resist the resolved offensive of the Rhōmaîon and the Franks.

    Nāṣir al-Muslimīn, who had prosecuted the siege of Alexandria for three months, unsuccessfully, was forced to lift once the belligerents agreed to the truce in Damietta. The fact that the Franks had threatened to execute his brother, now imprisoned in Cyprus, seemingly did not concern him; perhaps he expected to have Alexandria for himself once he recaptured it, but, as it happened, he only returned in the spring of 1165 A.D., with a numerous host of conscripts and Bedouin mercenaries. Lacking adequate siege equipment, however, the operation became a protracted engagement, even more so because the Christians could be supplied by sea. Soon enough, the forces that had reduced Damietta arrived to relieve Alexandria, and thus Nāṣir retreated to Gizeh.

    The Vizier, in desperation, attempted to win over to his cause the Banu Kanz - a Bedouin clan that had settled the frontier region between Upper Egypt and Nubia - promising wealth and positions of power in exchange for their arms against Shāwar. They accepted the proposal, more due to the loyalty of their chieftain Kanz al-Dawla [Latinized Chazadarmius] to the Caliph, and, using Qus as a base, they raided into Shāwar’s territory, going as far as ransacking the villages near ʾAswān. This permitted the Caliphal troops to invest more seriously against the Christians in the Delta.

    Al-Ḍirghām consolidated his armies, joining with his brothers, and changed his strategy. Instead of attacking the Christians, who seemed to have established more defended positions in the coastal area, he sought to attract them to a battlefield of his choice: Bilbeis. This took some months, but, by the middle of summer, they indeed came to him, believing that the city - the principal stopping point in the way to Fustat and Cairo - was undefended.

    Bilbeis had been transformed into a veritable stronghold by Ibn Ruzzik, with two concentric circuits of walls, and stone turrets. Laying in between the Nile and a canal, it could only be blockaded by land in the north and south sides. Coming from the north, the Christians realized it would be fruitless to attempt to starve it, and initiated operations to demolish its fortifications. Then, the Vizier, commanding Turkish mamluks and Sudanese infantry, made good use of the terrain and constantly assaulted the besiegers, and maneuvered with his own cavalry to cut their lines of communication and supply to Damietta. He intended for Bilbeis to be the graveyard of these so-called warriors of the faith.

    During summer, the allies attempted to make their way through the northern walls, but they were the most fortified, and were protected by seasoned veterans, whose valor in battle was great. From inside the city, catapults could unleash against the besiegers ammunition containing the “Arabic fire” [naphtha] - and to see many of their brothers in arms immolated alive might have taken its toll on the morale of the assailants. The swollen waters of the Nile made the operations more difficult, because the ground became mud and was prone to constant floods, as well as to infestations. John Kinnamos reports, with some grisly detail, about the case of a dozen Frankish soldiers who, surprised by an intense flooding of the river, in the midst of a storm, were eventually preyed upon and eviscerated by crocodiles.

    They lifted their camp and retreated back to Menouf, where they had erected a defensive encampment, and this time the Saracens came in chase, and, after insistent attacks on their rearguard, even destroyed some of their siege weapons.

    Once again avoiding direct battle in the field, though, the Vizier simply encircled the enemy camp to keep them at bay; but this time he had time to prepare, and had assembled another separate army under the command of his brothers, whose objective was the recapture of Alexandria.


    In the second part of this installment: the War continues. Can the Fatimids turn the tide? In the 8th of May we'll find out.


    ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________​


    Notes and comments: This chapter is fairly big, so, to facilitate reading, I opted to divide it in two parts. Part two is already written, but I need one more day to revise it for publication, so don't worry, it will be due on Saturday.

    Most characters mentioned here are historical, even if more obscure, such as Dirgham and his brothers, and excepting Asem, the Turk, who is invented. I realize that the TL is fairly convergent with OTL, but I figure that while the divergences in the Outremer were massive, they impacted little in the palatine politics of the Fatimid Caliphate. This means that Dirgham rose to the Vizierate on schedule, but Shawar never did, because IOTL, he only came to power in a later date. Here, he does attempt to take power, but in very different circumstances.

    I devoted some attention here to logistics, which are often ignored when people discuss Medieval warfare. The picture I was trying to portray is: it is a friggin' mess, and the whole success of the expedition depended on an amazing and intricate work of logistics. Remember that Medieval societies, in either Europe or the Near East, produced little food surplus, and it was heavily dependent on the seasons. The Byzantines have specialized state apparatus which allows for better communications and logistics, unlike the Franks or the Crusaders as a whole, and this, IMHO, gives a significant edge in the coordination of such a massive campaign, which should be huge for the standards of the period, comparable to Saladin's campaigns and to the Third Crusade, which involved massive armies and complex operations, but over the course of some years.


    The mention about Bilbeis being fortified by Ibn Ruzzik has historical basis. According to the Wiki, when he died, he lamented that he could not use this stronghold to launch an invasion against the Franks in Jerusalem.

    I might have perhaps anticipated a bit the appearance of counterweight trebuchets, which, indeed, would have a large role in Saladin's campaigns before the Third Crusade. However, the Wiki mentions that, at least according to David Nicole, it is likely that they might have been used ever since the 12th Century, but the low-level conflict between the Fatimids and the Franks perhaps did not permit it to develop with the sophistication it would be seen in the late 12th Century. I took some liberties, considering that Manuel had the resources and the Byzantine State had both the technological finesse and the interest in improving it. But note that the Fatimids aren't really behind. The part about Bilbeis mentions the use of catapults too. So, I believe, the matter isn't really about technological advantage by itself, but rather on the overall strategical and tactical capabilities of each state to bring them to war.

    The same goes for the crossbows, which, indeed, were fairly unknown in the Orient before the Crusades. I figure one reason is due to the ubiquitous presence of both professional infantry and horse archery in the region, and the minor focus on siege warfare if compared to High Medieval Europe, but this doesn't precludes the possibility of a more conscientious ruler such as Manuel actively sponsoring it. This will surely have important consequences for the military developments of the post-Crusade military technology in the Middle East.

    Notice, too, the fact that the Franks are having more contact with the Greek Fire. Some passages in previous chapters of this TL mention that the use of incendiary weapons will become more ubiquitous in the following centuries, before the coming and the development of gunpowder. Let's see how this will unfold!
     
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    60. The Rhõmaíõn Crusade For Egypt (1164-1166 A.D.) [Part 2/2]
  • 60. THE RHÕMAIÕN CRUSADE FOR EGYPT (Part 2/2)



    Sem título.jpg


    Non-contemporary (c. 13th Century) detail of an illustration depicting Manuel Komnenos in a meeting with his generals



    V. The Basileus returns to Constantinople

    In the middle of the year of 1165 A.D., Basileus Manuel returned in hurry to Constantinople, by sea, with his guard, leaving John Doukas Komnenos with the overall leadership of the war theater in Egypt.

    As it happened, while the best part of the Rhōmaîoi army was committed to the war against the Ismaelites, two enemies of Rhōmanía raised arms against her, and initiated hostilities.

    The first incursion came from Sicily, whose lord, William, known as “the Victorious” self-proclaimed Prince of Sicily, proclaimed war to avenge previous actions attributed to the Empire against his rule in southern Italy. Manuel, indeed, soon after his coronation, had provided support to rebel nobles who opposed William, and had eventually invaded Apulia, capturing Bari, Taranto and Brindisi, in an attempt to restore the defunct Catepanate of Italy. William successfully retook these urban centers, and defeated the opposition among the Norman aristocrats, thus becoming worthy of his sobriquet. Now, more than a decade later, seeking to take advantage of the fact that Rhōmaîoi were distracted in another war, William assembled a large fleet, commanded by his trusted lackey, Maio of Bari [Italian: Maione di Bari], and preyed upon the coastal cities of the Adriatic and Aegean Seas.

    It was, in any even, an opportunistic aggression, but what William could not foresee is that he would not live enough to see any other victory, because he was fated to die a mere year later. His son, however, also named William, instigated by his vassals, who were desirous of the plunder from the rich provinces of the Empire, would happily continue the war after coming to the throne. As for Manuel, he at first believed these were mere raids and piratical attacks, but it soon became clear that the Sicilians once again invading the Empire, once they captured Dyrrachium [OTL Dürres], and thus he was forced to take action against them.

    The second assailment came from the Kingdom of Hungary. In an extraordinary change of events, the recently-enthroned King Stephen IV, who had been installed into the throne by the assistance of the Rhōmaîoi, was defeated in the battle of Székesfehérvár by the monarch that he had only recently deposed, Stephen III, who returned to Hungary in the midst of winter, between 1164 and 1165, now supported by Kaiser *Henry VI. Sided by Bavarian and Austrian knights, Stephen easily won the favor of the Hungarian nobility and clergy, who held little love for the usurper, regarded as a puppet of Constantinople, and humiliated his partisans. Stephen IV was imprisoned, but, the re-enthroned monarch, likely aware about William’s recent attack against Epirus and Greece, took advantage of the momentum and of the willingness of his own vassals, and invaded Rhōmanía by the way of Serbia. His intention was, perhaps, to force the Empire to acknowledge the suzerainty over Hungary over Serbia and Croatia, which had been aggregated to Constantinople's sphere of influence.

    Although Manuel refused to vacate his army from Egypt, believing it to be a far more significant prize to the realm, the fact remained that such a large part of the soldiery was committed to the campaign in the Nile, that he was forced to raise new forces to check the invasions, mainly from the manpower pools of Bulgaria and western Anatolia.

    In the end, he would be victorious, but the cost would be great.


    VI. The Sieges of Bilbeis and of Athribis


    Only with the advent of autumn, when the floodwaters receded, did the Christian allies, having recently repelled the Saracens, marched to relieve Alexandria, then under siege by the Vizier who de facto governed the Caliphate. Once again, al-Ḍirghām avoided confrontation, in spite of the numbers at his disposal. He did have reasons to fear; a defeat in the battlefield would result in his certain downfall, and he knew that, in spite of his enemy's victories, the circumstances ought to be in his favor if he bade his time. Even now, however, his preferred strategy of exhausting the invaders by attrition incurred in the displeasure of the military leaders subordinated to him, especially the mamluks - the ex-slaves that formed the Caliphal bodyguard - who, in general, believed they ought to exterminate the infidels to the last man in a glorious battle.

    The Vizier’s position was worsened, indeed, by the fact that, during spring and summer seasons of 1165 A.D., the Franks had been reinforced by the arrival of more soldiers from Italy. Emboldened by the replenishment of their numbers, they decided to march once again. Once again, in the cat and mouse game, al-Ḍirghām saw himself in the defensive, against his expectations.

    This time, the Christians avoided Bilbeis, and instead went by the way of the Sebennytic distributary of the Nile, which provided a direct fluvial connection between Cairo and the Mediterranean. With the coming of autumn, the waters of the Nile having been subsided, their march was uneventful, until they arrived in the metropolis of Athribis, another one that had been fortified and reinforced by the Saracens. This was an ancient city notorious for housing the very first Christian church of Egypt, dedicated to Virgin Mary; its Christian population had been significant, but al-Ḍirghām had forcibly removed the Copts from the city, sending them to the fortress of Babylon, further to the south along the Nile, and now it had been reduced to an ad hoc military citadel. The civilians were given arms and conscripted to the defense of the city.

    The Christian army distributed itself evenly along the circuit of walls to besiege it. Once again they employed the dreaded trebuchets to cow its inhabitants into capitulating. Despite the fact that, unlike in Bilbeis, their defenders had no artillery to use, the siege became a bloody engagement once the Rhōmaiōi and the Franks attempted to overcome the soldiers in the walls. The humid terrain impeded the adequate use of siege towers and of sapping maneuvers by the assailants, and thus they resorted to ladders and battering rams, but were received with naphtha devices, boiling oil and heated sand, and casualties grew tenfold.

    Over the course of two months, under constant assault by archers, the besiegers employed “tortoises”, mobile shelters made of wood, usually by re-purposing baggage wagons, covered with metal armor, leather and wet hides, so as to allow the construction of a makeshift sheltered walkway touching what they believed to be the most vulnerable point of the walls; afterwards, they lit fires over various consecutive days to decompose the mortar of the structure and weaken it enough to be collapsed. Even after this breach, however, the walls, when fighting was taken to the streets, the besiegers made little progress.

    Having suffered substantial casualties, John Doukas Komnenos aborted the siege and retreated to Alexandria, which was, once again, under siege by the Saracens.

    When the winter came, in late 1165 A.D., the Imperial armies were still committed to three separate wars, even though the Hungarians and the Sicilians both interrupted their campaigns and disbanded their armies, only to return in spring. Seeing that the strategic situation was a very complicated one, and that, in Egypt, no further progress had been made, Manuel pleaded for a truce with the Fāṭimīds.

    The Vizier accepted the terms, likely hoping to reorganize his forces to face his rival Shāwar in the following months, but his act, seen as the prelude of a dishonorable capitulation by his lieutenants, would soon provoke his downfall.


    VI. The Franks breach the truce


    Even when the campaigning season began in 1166 A.D., Manuel, aware that the Fatimids were weakened by internal conflict, ordered John Doukas Komnenos to refrain from prosecuting the war, likely to allow them to consolidate their conquests, to repair fortifications and, perhaps, to reinforce their taxed manpower. It is likely that they would only return to the conflict later in autumn, to avoid the worst of the Egyptian summer.

    The Vizier, indeed, instead of taking the war against the infidels, marched against the Upper Nile, to quench the rebellion led by his nemesis Shāwar, who had campaigned during winter and pillaged a few towns still loyal to Cairo.

    Damietta had been granted by Manuel Komnenos to Theodorich of Flanders - who accepted the Basileus as his suzerain, and now, in old age, had resolved to remain in the Orient, hoping to find in Jerusalem his place of final rest - while Tinnis was gifted to the Knights of the Orders of the Temple and of Saint Michael - as a demonstration of Manuel’s appraisal of their service in the protection of the pilgrims -, but the whole occupied territory of Egypt was formally annexed into the Empire, with the political seat being Alexandria. John Doukas Komnenos retained the political and military rule, now with the hitherto defunct title of "Exarch", and coins in these years were minted with the effigy of Basileus Manuel.

    Now, in reward for their assistance and allegiance, Manuel partitioned the revenues collected from rural estates and urban settlements among his allies, both the Latinikon of his guard and the Latin-Levantine nobles, and even a few Hungarian gentry-men, who, having recently been deposed and dispossessed by King Stephen III, endeavored to find their fortunes in Egypt, under the leadership of Constantine Kalamanos. This system, unlike that of Europe, characterized by proprietary domain of the land, simply incorporated the practice of tax farming adopted by the Saracens, named iqta. The Franks, who had absorbed the same practice in the Outremer, accepted the rewards, and it seems that they did not expect any actual land grants, which might have been the arrangement proposed by Manuel before the expedition was initiated. In spite of these grants, the Franks resented the fact that the Rhōmaîon autocrat had prohibited them from indulging in plunder and looting, so as to preserve the goodwill of the local Coptic and Ismaelite communities.

    Now, we must explain that Franks of the Outremer, whose army had been mostly disbanded in the end of the previous year, once again mustered in Palestine and marched into Egypt, seeking to obtain plunder. When they found out that Manuel had refused to prosecute the campaign, they grew restless, believing that there was no purpose in preserving peace with the enemies of the faith, unless after their complete subjugation.

    Now, they knew that, in the previous year, the Genoese and the Anconitans had ransacked the ports of Libya, known to the ancients as "Cyrenaica". These towns, such as Barca [Arab: Barqah], made prosperous by commerce and by industry, had been easy prey, distant as they were from the center of power in Egypt, fell easily to the arms of the attackers and suffered various indignities, such as enslavement of their inhabitants and the depredation of their mosques. The Venetians, who had not participated in the action, became envious of the riches accumulated by these Genoese and Anconitan adventurers, and made common cause with Raymond of Caesarea, who desired more plunder for himself and for his brothers-in-arms.

    Their greed, however, made them fall to the allure of other riches, which they believed were hoarded in the golden palace of the Caliph. As the years passed, ever since they first came to Egypt, many tales would be disseminated about the proverbial “treasure of the Pharaohs”, a mythical deposit of precious metals and gemstones hidden in a city made of gold. The legend was to become famous in both Asia and in Europe during the 13th Century, and confounded with the Biblical tradition; according to it, the second son of the Pharaoh who had freed the Hebrews from Egypt, seeking vengeance against them for the ten plagues, exacted tribute for every one of his subjects and accumulated a vast treasure, with which he intended to pay the largest army ever seen, to march into Israel and once again enslave the Hebrews. Before he came to do it, however, God had poisoned the gold and the young Pharaoh became bloated and died, thus ending his lineage. The Franks believed that such fabled treasure would be confined in the halls of the palace in Cairo.

    So it came to pass that, still in 1166 A.D., the Rhōmaîoi received, in Alexandria, heralds from Shāwar. This lord of the Saracens, being of an opportunistic and dishonorable disposition, sent to the Greeks, promising to share the land of Egypt with them, if they were to violate the truce and march against Cairo. While his rhetoric to obtain the support of the Bedouin tribes in Upper Egypt and in the western deserts involved the promise of jihad against the infidels, his obscure objective was, in fact, the overthrowing of the Caliphate itself; he saw that the Fāṭimīds would inevitably fall, if not by the hands of these infidels, by that of another, stronger conqueror, and he believed himself to be the worthier candidate.

    Surprisingly, however, John Doukas Komnenos, after consulting with the Basileus, refused the offer, and honored the truce. It is likely that, while Manuel genuinely desired to preserve his honor and dignity, he was more concerned with practical considerations: the soldiery had suffered with epidemics and deprivation during the war, and he was now determined to campaign against the Sicilians and the Hungarians, and very much needed a respite in the Levantine theater, in which he might have intended to resume operations only in early or middle 1167 A.D.. It is even likely that he realized that it was better to have the Caliphate divided to be more easily conquered, instead of united under a single strongman.

    Now, it is true that Shāwar was as clever as he was deceitful, and, seeing no use in dealing with the more honorable Rhōmaîoi, he sought to confabulate with the Dukes of the Franks, knowing very well that they were of a different disposition. To Prince Raymond - who had then already returned to Caesarea -, the promises were even grander: he would grant fabulous amounts of gold and silver, and spices and horses, to them, and the whole of the coast of Egypt in the Red Sea.

    While the promises might have been too far-fetched, the Franks, driven more by arrogance, believing that they could exact from him such demands, now that Egypt was seemingly on the verge of ultimate conquest, were entranced by them. It is impossible to understand the real motives for them to accept the proposal of the Ismaelite belligerent. It seems that the Latin-Levantines were convinced by Raymond, and, indeed, his personality and demeanor suggest that he held a grudge towards Manuel, having likely been incensed by his intervention during the campaign against the Normans, and now did not see fit solely for the Basileus to claim the laurels of victory; perhaps he had realized that it was in the interest of the Rhōmaîoi to keep the leadership of the Outremer divided; or, it is possible that he sought to obtain leverage against him.


    ******

    To avoid detection, this army of the Franks, going from Damietta, moved up the Nile course along the Phatnitic distributary, as far as Busiris, a town situated near the derelict city of Leontopolis. Crossing the river (Sebennetic distributary), they went by the ancient Roman road connecting it to where the former bishopric of Andropolis had been, now a ruin as well. Now going along the Canopic branch of the Nile, they went directly to Cairo, unimpeded. The speed of their movement, which took them in but a few days from the Mediterranean to the palace of the Caliph, suggests that Raymond had picked a more mobile force of cavalry - likely his own retainers and those of his allied Counts, as well as the Templarian sworn-brothers, and Syrian and Turcopole light cavalrymen, to attempt to surprise the Fāṭimīds by going directly through their defensive lines. It is very much possible that he had received important intelligence about the most favorable venue to attack Cairo, likely from Shāwar or other collaborators.

    A rare eye-witness source of the campaign is the Chanson d’Egipte, by the French trouvère Guiot of Provins, who had come to the Levant attached to the retinue of Yves of Nesle, Count of Soissons, who, himself, came as a companion of Theodorich of Flanders. Yves and his French vassals returned with Manuel to Europe in 1165 A.D., and participated in the war against the Hungarians, but it seems that Guiot remained in Egypt for the remainder of the war, now employed by Simon of Montfort, Castellan and Provost of Emèse. In this song, it is told that the Franks opted to travel during the night, disguised as tradesmen and preachers, in various separate groups, and they rendezvoused near Giza, whereupon they firstly saw the ancient Pyramids. Guiot’s work would become widely popular in Europe, especially in France, and it contains detailed description of the pyramids, which, according to a legend believed by the Crusaders, were granaries constructed by Moses to store food for the exodus from Egypt.

    Only when they arrived in al-Fusṭāṭ did the Franks reveal themselves, and after a day of fighting they defeated and submitted the Sudanese soldiers that formed the garrison of the city. They were likely aware about the fact that the majority of the soldiers that might have been dedicated to the defense of the Caliphal palace were situated further north, in the fortress of Babylon, and so the Christians immediately moved to assail it, perhaps hoping to capture the Caliph himself - referred, by allegory, in contemporary poetry as “Pharaoh”.

    It is worth mentioning another vulgar legend, which seemingly inspired one of the fables of Reynard the Fox, tells of a Lorrainese sergeant that climbed up the walls of the palace in the dark of night and, disguised as a guardsman, in a black veil, entered its premises and stole the gilded robe used by the “Saracen king” during his bath; naked, he was forced to dress himself with the clothes of a woman.

    Entrance in Cairo, however, was denied by the hardened slave-guards of the Caliph, who, in spite of their numerical inferiority, were formidable fighters. After some attempts, the Franks gave up, possibly expecting that the army in Babylon and in Bilbeis would arrive to succor the beleaguered Ismaelite suzerain, and instead they spread out across the whole nearby country, indulging in plunder and mayhem, in the manner of jackals.


    ******​


    The Franks remained at large, in the heartland of Egypt, for almost three consecutive months, even in the height of winter, living off the land and preying upon the hapless peasantry. They were chased by the Turkish mamluks employed by the Vizier, but the fact that they had broken their ranks made pursuit difficult. It wasn’t until January 1167 A.D., when the Franks reunited further south, in the region of Fayyum, near Lake Moeris [modern Qarun Lake], that the Saracens could do battle with them. It seems that Raymond and the Latin-Levantine counts were cornered in the oasis, perhaps expecting to meet with Shāwar, who was seemingly coming from Asyut due to the north. We do not know if Shāwar was actually late or if he deliberately calculated for their adversaries to do battle on their own, but, as it came to pass, the Christians, now outnumbered, entrenched themselves in a fishing village on the side of the Lake.

    The vengeful Ismaelites harassed them with their usual archery tactics, but avoided melee, and only fell upon their line when they flanked their line. The Franks, pressured, were encircled and decisively defeated. Prince Raymond was slain in the engagement, but those who capitulated did not fare better; desirous of exacting revenge for the aggression, the Saracens humiliated and slaughtered most of them, from the counts to the knights alike, sparing only the Templarians, in recognition of their respectful and honorable treatment of Muslim pilgrims. Grandmaster Gerard of Aigremont - a Burgundian aristocrat related to the family of Pope Stephen X -, was made prisoner, but then nonetheless released under a vow of honor, having pledged to raise funds to pay for the ransom of his brothers. The mistreatment of noble prisoners demonstrates, however, an entirely hostile posture of the Ismaelites towards the Franks, certainly as retaliation for their destructive actions in the region of Cairo.

    Now, this unexpected triumph of the mamluks, instead of bolstering the Vizier’s reputation, instead jeopardized it. These slave-soldiers, proud of their victory, proclaimed their own captain, a certain Fakhr ad-Din al-Aymak al-Ghazi [Latinized Facrilidinus], to be the champion of the Caliphate, and he promptly entered in Cairo and demanded from Caliph al-ʿĀḍid li-Dīn Allāh a honor; he was then granted the honorific title of al-Malik al-Afḍal (“most excellent king”).

    Al-Ḍirghām, discovering about this, realizing that he had been deposed, and predicting his own assassination, quickly abandoned Bilbeis, with only a handful of followers, and spirited himself away to Al-Qusayr [OTL El-Qoseyr], the principal harbor of the Red Sea coast. There, he welcomed the arrival of a thousand Yemeni mercenaries, whose service he had acquired in the middle of the year, and entrenched himself in resistance against the new Vizier, al-Aymak al-Ghazi.

    The ascension of al-Aymak initiated a new phase of the war, in which the Saracens organized a counteroffensive.


    VII. The Mamluks Take the Reins of the War

    Al-Aymak, the mamluk warlord, mustered an army and, by the summer of 1167 A.D. and committed himself to retake Alexandria. By then, the position of the Rhōmaîoi was fairly secure; they had constructed various holdouts in the region surrounding Alexandria, using timber from Anatolia and Bulgaria and even stone debris from nearby ruins, and convinced many of the Coptic peons to join their cause; prohibited from holding weapons for centuries, they were not accomplished warriors nor soldiers, but once outfitted with crossbows, spears and shields, and sat atop the walls of these towers, they formed a formidable deterrent against an army bent on assaulting Alexandria.

    As the former Vizier had done, al-Aymak simply bypassed the other settlements that had pledged allegiance to Manuel, seeing that they lacked any strategic significance whatsoever, and instead invested against actual military targets. The army at his disposal was largely composed of professional soldiers, headed by the mamluks, but including the palatine guards, the Sudanese and Bedouin auxiliaries. He had conscripted levies to prosecute the sieges, but did not lead them into the field of battle.

    Now, the Saracens brought their own machines to overcome the defenses constructed by the Christians, and, perhaps in retaliation to their constant use of the Greek Fire, employed their own incendiary devices of naphtha, to demoralize the enemy. By the month of October, they were encircling Alexandria, having suppressed other rebellious elements in the western branch of the Nile. Their violence was directly mainly against Copts - and this period witnessed several martyrdoms, the most notorious one being that of the “children of Xois”, twelve teenagers allegedly crucified by the Saracens after having participated in the defense of a tower constructed in a nearby grotto - but also Armenians and Jews.

    Notwithstanding the acts of violence, the Rhōmaîoi remained steadfast and, when put to siege in 1167 A.D., they received reinforcements from Genoa and Pisa, and also from Greece, numbering in many hundreds of men-at-arms, and successfully repelled various assaults by the Muslims. On the other hand, the besiegers repulsed two attacks launched by the Franks coming from Damietta, and put to death all prisoners captured during these encounters.

    Manuel himself had returned briefly to Egypt in June, coming by sea, with more reinforcements, but left after a short stay, going back by the way of Cyprus. At the time, the Sicilians, while committing most of their efforts to conquer Epirus and Greece, apparently had a fleet operating in the eastern Mediterranean, whose objective was raiding coastal towns and disrupting commerce. Apparently, they had been welcomed by Count Bohemond III and were using Tyre as a base to raid the more vulnerable provinces of the Empire, mainly Cyprus and the Cibyrrhaeots.

    In Alexandria, even if encircled by land, the defenders could be supplied by sea, and, when the year came to its end, al-Aymak desisted from the siege.

    Fortunately for him, he had obtained a significant victory in the later part of the year, when the Bedouin chieftain Kanz al-Dawla captured Shāwar and surrendered him in chains, to be immediately executed. Al-Aymak then turned from the Nile Delta to Upper Egypt, and, assisted by the Banu Kanz the fierce Turkish champion launched a punitive expedition against the Makurians, in retaliation for raids they had been undertaking since 1166 against the mosques and rural estates in the region, and also against the Bedouins inhabiting the western oases, who refused to accept his ascension to the Vizierate.


    ******​


    In 1168 A.D, with the coming of spring, al-Aymak endeavored once again to expel the Franks from Egypt, and this time he came for Damietta, aware that the Latin-Levantine army had departed to Palestine to face an invasion of the Sicilians, led by none other than the deposed Bohemond II. Now, there were many Franks in Damietta, whose holder was Matthew of Alsace, Theodorich's son, who assumed the defenses after his father went to Jerusalem in the beginning of the year. Matthew came to Egypt accompanied by a host of Flemish and Frisian Crusaders, and they were ready to fight against the Fāṭimīds.

    Once again, the fact that the city could be supplied by the sea prevented starvation, and they received assistance from the Venetians, who had acquired half of the city of Damietta as a colony, but casualties amounted over the course of the following months after various attempts of the Saracens of storming the fortifications. Their manpower was seemingly endless, and the situation of the defenders became dire, even more so because they could scantly hope for reinforcements.

    Then, Matthew's surprise, the Saracens in the month of August simply raised camp and abandoned the siege, to no little celebration of the Franks. He then moved west, once again to Alexandria.

    As it happened, al-Malik al-Aymak received heralds from Cyrenaica, telling him about the arrival of a large host of Berbers coming from Tripolitania, allegedly numbering in more than forty thousand horsemen.

    Their commander was Abū Ya‘qūb Yūsuf, the self-proclaimed Almohad Caliph, one who had recently made himself the master of the whole of the Maghreb, from beyond the Atlas range to Tripolitania. The Almohads presented themselves as allies and brothers to the Fāṭimīds, to protect the House of Islam against the infidels, and they readied their spears and sabers to fight the Christians, starting in Alexandria.

    Unbeknownst to the Fāṭimīds, their ultimate and secret purpose, however, was to conquer Egypt and to extirpate the Shi'ite heresy once and for all.



    In the next chapter: Double trouble for the Byzantines and the Franks, with the Almohads joining the Fatimids. This convenient alliance, however, is not bound to last.


    _______________________________________________________________


    Notes and comments: It might seem strange the idea of the belligerents striking a truce in the middle of the war. But these occurrences were relatively commonplace in Medieval warfare. One example is Saladin's truces with the Kingdom of Jerusalem and other Crusaders before and during the Third Crusade, with Richard Lionheart. This can be explained by the fact that it was very expensive to maintain armies for long periods in campaign.

    The simultaneous wars between Byzantium and Hungary and Sicily are historical, and happened in this very timeframe. It is impossible to correctly point out the "casus belli" for them, but both do seem like opportunistic attempts of Manuel's enemies of attacking him to save face from the humiliations he imposed to them. In this case, I figured that, with a large part of the army pinned down in Egypt, both William I and Stephen III would have even better reason to make their attempts.

    Maio of Bari is an interesting historical character, even if many details of his life are obscure. IOTL, he should be dead already, but he was historically assassinated by a cabal of nobles inimical to (King) William, who produced a large-scale rebellion against his rule, one that came to almost depose him. ITTL, the revolt did happen, but it was much minor in scale - the circumstances that made it happen, such as the formation of the Kingdom of Sicily by Roger II and the support of the Papacy against the Norman monarchs - did not happen in the alternate TL, so it became more of a footnote in History. This means that Maio either never suffered an attempt against his life, or survived it unscathed. In any event, he was not particularly old, so I believed he could have lingered for some years more.

    Most of the characters here are historical, excepting Al-Aymak, who is invented.

    "Tortoises" did exist, even if they did not seem to be common in sieges, perhaps the effort simply wasn't worth it. But I thought it would be a nice touch to the story.

    "Ismaelite" here is being used as a synonym of Semitic/Arab Muslims or of "Saracen", not necessarily those adepts of Shia Islam. It harkens to the old-fashioned idea that the Arabs, and Muslims by extension, descend from Abraham's son Ishmael.
     
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    61. The Epilogue of Manuel's War (1169/1174 A.D.)
  • Hey, guys, as promised, the next chapter is here! I'll be answering the posts of the previous week just tomorrow, but don't be shy, and say your words about the latest one too! Thanks in advance!



    THE EPILOGUE OF MANUEL'S WAR (1169/1174 A.D.)


    DNTdC8gXUAAQxtu.jpg


    "The Turks besiege Alexandria", detail from miniature in the "Skylitzes Continuation" (manuscript of uncertain date, from the late 12th Century) portraying the Siege of Alexandria of 1169 A.D. The illustration is unusual for depicting "Turks" [Tourkoi"] - likely in reference to the Caliphal Mamluks, who were mostly of Turkish or Cuman origin -, instead of the more traditional "Arab" stereotype commonly used when depicting the Saracens (with turbans and robes).


    Of the Origins and of the Feats of the Almohad Caliphate

    The creation and ascension of the Almohad Caliphate owes to the agency of Abu Abd Allah Muhammad Ibn Tumart, a Berber scholar and philosopher who initiated a puritanical movement deeply influenced by Ash’ari doctrine, Ẓāhirī jurisprudence and Sufi esoterism, whose main tenet was the absolute rejection of polytheism - in his age usually associated with anthropomorphism -, and the premise of the oneness of God. The very name of the movement, al-Muwaḥḥidūn, means “those who affirm the unity of God”. Initiated as a movement of religious revivalism among the Berbers inhabiting the westernmost expanses of the Almoravid monarchy [al-Murābiṭūn], in the desertic region south of Marrakesh, it was rapidly absorbed and retooled by the Hintata, a tribal confederation of the Masmuda race of Berbers, whose chieftain, Abu Hafs Umar ibn Yahya al-Hintati, saw in this the perfect opportunity to rebel against the despised Almoravids, whom they saw as decadent and irrelevant.

    From humble beginnings, in 1122 A.D., based in a ribat situated in the High Atlas mountains, in a single generation the Almohads cannibalized the Almoravid territories in the whole of western Maghreb. Its first Caliph, ʿAbd al-Muʾmin, conquered Marrakesh, extinguished the Almoravid presence in most of Maghreb al-Aqsa [i.e. the Farther Maghreb], and imposed hegemony over the fragmented Islamic states in Al-Andalus, eventually checking the offensives of Castille, Portugal and Aragon against Cordoba. By the year of his death, in 1163, he had expanded this newborn Caliphate as far as Tunisia, expelling the Siculo-Normans from Mahdia and Tunis, thus becoming the master of Ifriqiya as well.

    It is worth noting that this constant state of warfare and political upheaval in the Maghreb scarcely impacted in the influxes of human movement and economic exchanges, whose protagonists were the nomadic groups of the Berbers and of the Bedouins - the latter being mainly those descended from the Banu Hillal, who had migrated from Arabia to Maghreb during the 10th Century A.D. To them, travelling across seas of sand to find pastures was a way of life, and they saw the benefits of joining the expansionist project of this new Caliphate as mercenaries and traders.

    Al-Mu’min’s son and successor, Abū Ya‘qūb Yūsuf, a man of savant-like erudition and warmongering appetites, saw a stable succession in 1163 A.D., and immediately set upon the consolidation of this collection of provinces and tributaries, so as to ensure that it would not crumble onto its own weight. In Maghreb itself, the Almoravids had ceased to be a threat to their power, and internal discontentment had been suppressed with such brutality that the subordinate Berber war-chiefs became fiercely loyal, but Yūsuf knew very well that the survival of the Caliphate was predicated on its continuous territorial expansion and economic predatism, so as to ensure a constant flow of plunder and new revenues to the military aristocracy that ruled it. His first campaigns were directed to subdue the few remaining Berber groups active in Ifriqiya, and the ease of his advance is demonstrated by the fact that, in the span of a single year, his armies went as far as Syrte, effectively annexing the whole of Tripolitania, and thus the Caliphate came to border Cyrenaica, the westernmost province of the Fatimids.

    These advances of the Almohads in Maghreb al-Adna [i.e. the Nearer Maghreb] certainly made them more acquainted with the political situation of the Fāṭimīd Caliphate, and it is likely that the new Berber Caliph ought to have known about the Rhōmaîon invasion of the realm of Egypt, and the violent conflict that unfolded.

    Even with this foreknowledge, however, it does strike as surprising that the Almohads, whose political core was in the western extreme of the Maghreb, decided to intervene in the war in Egypt, instead of continuing their advance into al-Andalus. While there were certainly economical and military considerations, it seems that the main motive was of political and ideological nature: Yūsuf desired to be recognized as a legitimate Caliph in the “House of Islam”, and Egypt was regarded as a fundamental piece of the primordial Islamic Caliphate, corrupted by deviant sect of the faith, and was, also, the gateway of the Mashriq [i.e. Levant] As their future actions demonstrated, their ultimate goal was of uprooting this perceived heretic Caliphate and restoring Sunni rule over Egypt.

    At first, however, the Almohads presented themselves to the Fatimids as friends of the same devotion whose mutual enmity against the “polytheists'' demanded their action. They portrayed themselves as ghazi, hardened by lives dedicated to religious war, and were now ready to face the enemies of their faith. Much like other contemporary movements, then, the central aspect of the Almohad ideology was its dedication to religious warfare against the “infidels”.

    We have no contemporary accounts of the reaction of Fāṭimīds to their arrival; it is likely that the Almohads, being Sunnis who had obliterated other Islamic states in Mauritania and Africa and slain many of their correligionaries in their wars of conquest, were seen with suspicion and distrust, but the fact remained that their assistance could be helpful.

    Heavily bolstered by these unexpected reinforcements, the Fāṭimīds in a single campaign finally defeated the Christian alliance, which so far had been in control of the Nile Delta. The final phase of the war was even more bloodier than the ones that preceded it, resulting in a relatively brutal conflict even by the standards of the age. The Mohammedans devoted themselves to a merciless campaign and no quarter would be given to the defeated.

    Alexandria was the first to fall, in 1169 A.D. The Rhōmaîoi soldiers fought well, but it was a hopeless battle, even more so after Venice deserted from the war effort, an act of cowardice that imploded their diplomatic relations with Rhōmanía. To be fair, it seems that, in face of a relentless assault of the Mohammedans, that their presence would have hardly made any difference. In the month of June, in a sultry day of grey clouds and scorching heat, the western walls were collapsed and the assailants overwhelmed the defenders in a barbarous display of violence. Various of the races of the Latins and Rhōmaîoi, and others that bore the cross in their banners, were slain. The Copts suffered many casualties during the melee and were only barely spared from butchery once they capitulated. Each of their clergymen, from bishops to monks, were slaughtered, and hundreds of others were enslaved and forced to work on the construction of new fortresses.

    The recapture of Alexandria provoked an almost immediate and irreversible collapse of the Rhōmaîon and Frankish presence in the Delta. Their Coptic and Armenian collaborators, less desirous of martyrdom after they heard of the grisly fate of their correligionists in Alexandria, abandoned the cause of the Empire and proclaimed allegiance to the Caliphate.

    The Franks in Damietta attempted to save face by securing a separate truce with al-Aymak al-Ghazi, but he refused and demanded unconditional surrender.

    Expecting reinforcements from Italy and Frisia, the Duke Otto of Damietta at first defied fate, and it was only when the combined Islamic host encircled the city that he gave up any attempt of resistance. Confident in al-Aymak’s promise of safe-passage back to Palestine, thousands of Franks departed in the beginning of 1169 A.D., but they would be ambushed by mamluks in the desertic region near the border of the Sinai and ignominiously slain to the last man. The hatred towards the Franks was immense, but it seems that the purpose of this carnage was not to satisfy their generations-old thirst for vengeance, but rather to send a message to Manuel and other Christian princes: the Crescent would triumph over the Cross.


    Sunni versus Shia


    The Rhōmaîon navy would stay in operation in the eastern Mediterranean, ranging from Crete and Cyprus, to assail and harass the ports under the control of the Fāṭimīds and of the Almohads. In any event, however, it was all but evident that the invasion of Egypt had failed; Manuel, having recently defeated Hungary, but still campaigning against Sicily, was nonetheless committed to the war, and promised revenge against the Berbers and the Egyptians.

    It soon proved to be a worthless effort: the Almohads were a land-based power and had left their principal harbor-towns of Tripolitania and Africa to their own devices. The fact that the Rhōmaîoi would, for example, successfully capture Syrte, Tripoli and Sfax in between 1170 and 1171 was to yield no further strategic gains to Constantinople, and they would soon relinquish these conquests. The Fāṭimīds, on the other hand, were now focused inwards, even more so after the war devastated and took a grave toll of human lives in the Delta region, leaving Alexandria as a depopulated urban husk and serving only as a stronghold to protect the northwestern province of the Nile.

    Predictably, the relations between the Shiite Fatimids and the Sunni Almohads soured as soon as their common Christian enemies were out of the picture.

    The Berber conquerors, confident in the strength of their arms and in the weakness of the Egyptians, ushering the support of dissident elements of the Fatimid regime, notably Bedouins, who had been ostracized during the short reign of Vizier al-Aymak, produced an act of aggression soon afterwards.

    As early as 1172 A.D., the Almohad Caliph trespassed into Cyrenaica, rapidly occupying the port-towns with the assistance of the Bedouins, and then advanced overland into the Nile Delta. Al-Aymak, with his a loyal army of Turkic mamluks, Arab ghazi and Yemeni mercenaries, soon joined battle against the despised Berbers.

    The war would be a quick, but needlessly bloody one. The Malik gave brutal treatment to the Sunnis, seeing them as no better than the Christians, and one could be pardoned to think that the Almohads and the Fāṭimīds had never been allies before. As it might be expected, however, this only strengthened the resolve of the Almohads and their Berber collaborators against the mamluks, and in the years of 1173 and 1174, the region of the western Delta, near Alexandria, was the stage of a dedicated and grueling conflict, with frequent skirmishes and, during the spring, one pitched battle in which Abū Ḥafṣ ʿUmar ibn Yahya defeated Al-Aymak, forcing him to retreat to Alexandria. They did not, however, take the metropolis, and instead retreated to Cyrenaica. Another remarkable military engagement occurred later that year, when Abū Ḥafṣ ʿUmar and an elite group of camel riders traversed the western desert from the Siwa Oasis, bypassing the fortresses of the Delta, and arrived in Cairo from the west. The mamluks were taken by surprise, and the Almohads came as far as attacking the outskirts of Fustat, massacring hundreds of inhabitants. The Turkish guardsmen nonetheless made a heroic stand, which gave Al-Aymak enough time to flank the Berbers with his Yemeni auxiliaries, and expel them from the region.

    In just these couple of years, many other thousands might have perished in the midst of war and the concurrent disasters of famine and disease that followed it.

    After this, the Almohads gave up warring in Egypt for the time-being. ʿUmar’s soldiers had grown restless, almost mutinous, and the theater was too far from their base of power and logistical centers, and thus Caliph Yūsuf finally made peace with Egypt and devoted his attention to Al-Andalus, where he would thence prosecute a decades-long war against the Iberian princes.

    Even so, the damage to the Fāṭimīds was done. Ruthless and cruel, Al-Aymak remained in power after installing a regime of terror in Cairo and Fustat, but the central authority in the Caliphate finally dissolved in the wake of these foreign invasions. The Caliph himself, despite being the nucleus of the institutional and religious framework, had become so politically irrelevant that even the palatine servants in Cairo rarely saw him, considering that had become a de facto prisoner, and the farce of his “protection” was necessary to attribute a veneer of legitimacy to the mamluk despot and his lackeys. But violence by itself, as gruesomely as it might be displayed, could not preserve the structure of a state, certainly not one as fractured as the Fatimid monarchy.


    Of Manuel’s Victories Against the Hungarians and the Sicilians


    Manuel’s war against Hungary was unexpectedly resolved in a single campaign. Knowing that most of the Hungarian army was concentrated in the Danubian border to reduce Sirmium and Belgrade, Manuel sent an army from Thrace that marched through Galicia and traversed the Carpathians into Transylvania, while his Cuman auxiliaries crossed into Wallachia, and went as far as the Olt valley, performing an expansive flanking maneuver focused in attacking the core of the Hungarian realm. The towns and hamlets of the regions beyond the Carpathians were thoroughly ransacked; according to one source, the local Transylvanian nobles came to the King with only their clothes to implore for deliverance against the Greeks and the Cumans.

    Not long thereafter, in 1167 A.D., the less disciplined Hungarian army was crushed by the Rhōmaîon army near Sirmium. Stephen III, profoundly humiliated, sued for peace, for fear that Manuel would once again depose him. As per the terms of the peace treaty, once again Hungary relinquished its claims to the suzerainty over the Croatians and the Serbians in favor of the Empire.

    As for the Normans, the ruling Prince of Sicily, William III, was not of a warlike disposition, but his vassals were very much, and they pressured him to prey upon the Empire whilst it was distracted with the wars in Hungary and in Egypt. Maio of Bari, the famous Admiral who had grown to be the most influential authority of the Sicilian monarchy, was the principal conduit of this Sicilian aggression; in a single audacious offensive, he captured various islands off the Adriatic coast and went as far as Euboea and Attica, where he pillaged the Piraeus - the famous ancient port of Athens. In the following year, seeing no counterattack from Constantinople, it is said that he boasted that he would make his liege William the “King of Greece” (Graecorum Rex), and continued his raids, this time in Lycia and Pamphylia in southern Anatolia, before being chased by an armada from Attaleia, and returning to Brindisi.

    Manuel’s diplomatic reaction against the unwarranted and opportunistic Norman aggression was stern and surgical; his envoys to the Lateran convinced Pope *Lucius III about the illegality of William’s hostility, and the Supreme Pontiff issued a bull of excommunication, repudiating the aggression against a fellow Christian nation who was then prosecuting a holy war against enemies of the faith. For the time being, however, it did little to solve the matter. William produced whatever justification he could conceive to appease the Holy See, but it was clear that he would not desist from campaigning as long as it was profitable to the Norman and Sicilian aristocrats that eagerly rattled their swords.

    This being said, only after defeating the Hungarians did Manuel turn his attention to Sicily. In spite of the naval superiority of the imperial war-fleet, which could probably decide the outcome of the conflict in sea, the Basileus had been profoundly incensed by the debacle and decided he ought to bring the war to the peninsula to avenge his honor. The complex logistical apparatus of the Constantinopolitan state allowed him to assemble another army soon after the peace was made with Hungary, mainly of mercenaries from the Lombards, the Croatians and the Germans. From Dyrrachium, they crossed the Adriatic Sea, disembarking near Bari, and put the city to siege.

    The city fell in early 1169 A.D. and would serve as a base of operations in the mainland. Manuel knew he could not hope to maintain his presence in Apulia, not with an army of mercenaries, but he could, and he would, wreak havoc in the region, even more so when he realized that William was avoiding pitched battle for fear of betrayal from his own vassals. After reducing Andria and Trani, the Rhōmaîoi captured and destroyed Melfi - an important center of the Norman dominion in the region, which had served as one of their first strongholds. The Normans had underestimated Rhōmanía’s capacity for war; expecting easy gains against a distracted enemy, they were now on the losing side of a war that became increasingly destructive, and pleaded for the intervention of the Papacy and of the [Holy] Roman Emperor, *Henry VI.

    With a symbolic gesture of penitence, William prostrated himself before the Pope, in August 1169, and proclaimed repentance, renewing his oath of vassalage to the Holy See. While Pope *Lucius III might have been pleased by the humiliation of the Normans, he was not desirous of a Rhōmaîon re-establishment in southern Italy, and sent envoys to Manuel, who briefly commanded the army in field, headquartered in Bari.

    As for the Bavarian monarch, in spite of the fact that the Welfs cultivated good diplomatic relations with the Komnenoi, Henry feared too that Manuel might attempt a restoration of Constantinopolitan rule in the peninsula, and pleaded for peace between the belligerents.

    The harshness of Manuel’s acts of war, which resulted in the sacking and destruction of various cities in Apulia, made Lucius condemn his actions and summon Henry and the Bavarian army to Italy. Manuel, however, did not concede. Instead, he answered to the Pope that the Normans had brought war to Jerusalem, and violated the sanctity of the holy places - indeed, a Sicilian army had disembarked in Tyre in 1169 A.D. propping up Bohemond II, Manuel’s sworn enemy, against his ally Raymond III, and sparked a proxy war those loyal and those inimical to Constantinople. Such a crime against the faith out to face severe punishment.

    By the advent of spring in 1170 A.D., however, Manuel did not pursue any further military action, threatened with war against the Germans, and accepted the Pope's offer of peace. The peace treaty was signed a few months later, by the terms of which the Sicilians agreed to withdraw from the Outremer and to the annexation of Bari by Rhõmanía.

    The gains were of very little significance if compared to the expenditure of the campaigns: by that year, the revenues of the Empire were severely compromised by the war effort, and the payment of armies of mercenaries indebted the coffers. More than once, Manuel was forced to turn to the wealthy land-owners and to the Church - both of which had profited from the repopulation of Anatolikon, Cappadocia, Charsianon and Sebastea - to borrow money, and, unable to pay them in kind, granted them even more fiscal and political privileges.

    For the purposes of this Chronicle, it is important to note that, even after the war, the relations between Lucius and Manuel remained friendly. At the behest of the Greek Emperor, indeed, the Pope proclaimed a Crusade against the Almohads, in the bull of 1171 A.D.

    Indeed, it seems that until then, the leaders of Latin Christendom had not yet realized that the Al-Andalus and the Maghreb, from Mauretania [i.e. Morocco] to Tripolitania, were under a single government of souls - the Islamic populations of these regions, be them Andalusians, Berbers or Arabs, were all called “Mauri” (Moors), and those that contacted them more often, such as the Sicilians or the Spaniards, could not grasp the whole picture. The Rhōmaîoi already understood it, both in regard to their immense territorial and political reach, and to their military capabilities, and thus Manuel saw it was necessary to forge an alliance between the Christian races to stall their advance and weaken them. The rhetoric used to convince the Roman Pontiff was, evidently, an Apocalyptic and Crusadist: the armies of Christ had to be summoned to safeguard the Holy Land against these Moorish barbarians, more ferocious than even the Saracens; for the first time, though, it would not be directed to Asia, but rather to Africa. Manuel most likely feared that a new Crusade might be directed to Egypt, and this would thwart his own designs to this realm, so his missives and embassies were emphatic in arguing that the cross-bearing armies ought to march to Africa and to Mauretania to subdue these infidels, and alluded to the necessity of liberating ancient Carthage and Hippo Regius from their yoke.

    It is rather surprising that Manuel, who had very recently absorbed the Crusadist rhetoric and presented himself as the sole legitimate authority to proclaim it and to lead the Christian pilgrimages, now turned to the Papacy and attempted to induce them to unleash another Crusade. Evidently, this was an act of pure realpolitik; if it might, to the Pope, appear to be an implicit admission of Petrine primacy by the Rhōmaîon Basileus, to Manuel it was but a necessary diplomatic compromise to obtain a more decisive, even if indirect, solution to his predicament in the Egyptian war. He had realized that even if the Fatimids were somehow taken out of the picture, the Almohads might jeopardize his triumph, and he knew from History that these sorts of opportunistic aggressions could very much succeed, as the Lombards and the Arabs had done, centuries before. Perhaps he did not believe that the Almohads could be vanquished, but they could certainly be restrained, and this would allow for the Rhōmaîoi to finally complete the (re)conquest of Egypt.

    The Papal summon was met with enthusiasm by the Iberian princes, especially by King Alfonso VIII of Castille - a zealous warmonger who desired to impose Christian hegemony over the Islamic race of Al-Andalus, and who now happily proclaimed himself a Crusader - but elsewhere the reception was lukewarm.

    At the time, Catholic Christendom was once again fractured by an ecclesiastical controversy, the “Stefanese Schism”.


    Of The Stefanese Controversy


    In spite of the name historians attributed to it, the schism actually began in the wake of Pope Stephen’s succession, during the Pontificate of *Lucius III.

    In 1167 A.D., after Stephen’s aforementioned successor Lucius was elected, he immediately devoted himself to the solution of a grave political and military conflict between the Houses of Toulouse and of Barcelona that arose from the ownership of the fief of Provence. As it happened, both dynasties claimed the possession of this southern part of the Kingdom of Arles, the former by ancestral birthright, and the latter by marriage.

    Alfonso-Jordan, then Count of Toulouse, in the 1130s had agreed to the partition of the fief of Provence with with the Count of Barcelona, Ramon Berenguer IV - who had inherited the claim from his mother Douce -, by the terms of which the former obtained the Marquisate of Provence, west of Forcalquier, and the latter obtained the County of Provence, east and south of the Durance river. Alfonso, however, was succeeded by his son Raymond [Duke of Septimania] who was of a warlike and adventurous disposition, and who reneged on the partition of Provence, claiming the whole fief. His ambition was to restore his dynasty’s preeminence in Languedoc, both against the Aquitanians in Toulouse and against the Catalans in Provence, and, in both pretenses, he was supported by King *Phillip II. For this reason, Raymond refused to acknowledge imperial suzerainty over the Marquisate of Provence, arguing that it belonged to the realm of France, while Ramon Berenguer IV quickly swore fealty to the [Holy] Roman Emperor, *Henry VI, in his position as King of Arles, and thus placed himself under imperial protection. Henry, believing that military action would be insufficient to submit Raymond, sought in the Papacy a coadjutor to support his own side; Pope Lucius, who was concerned with the preservation of the “Peace of God” in the region, acquiesced and intervened, demanding from Raymond obedience to his liege lord, the Emperor, and the renunciation of fratricide violence against the Catalans.


    Phillip, however, was infuriated by Lucius’ ultimatum to Raymond, seeing in this yet another inopportune interference of the Holy See in matters of temporal and feudal nature, not unlike what had happened decades previously, in the conflict between the Houses of Poitiers and of Toulouse. Now, however, the King of France, through his brother, Louis, Archbishop of Rheims, enjoyed substantial influence over the French clergy, including the monastic orders, such as that of Saint Denis, of Cluny and of Cîteaux, to whom he had bestowed great patronage ever since the *Second Crusade.

    Louis summoned in 1171 A.D. an ecumenical council in Rheims, where he and the majority of the French prelates agreed that Pope Stephen X had, during his pontificate, revocated the In nomine Domine bull of 1059 A.D. - the one that established the cardinal-bishops as the sole electors of the Pope - and had thusly voided the power of the college of cardinals to elect the Patriarch of Rome. Louis argued that only the ecumenical councils had enough legitimacy and spiritual inspiration to elect the Pope, and solely by acclamatio could a Christian Apostle be chosen from among the faithful. In accordance to this that soon became called the “Stefanese doctrine”, this new council declared that *Lucius could not be recognized as Pope if he lacked the consent of the clergy, and, in another act, they elected, once again by acclamatio, another Pontiff, supposedly in succession to Pope Stephen X. The one chosen was Peter [French: Pierre] of La Châtre, Archbishop of Bourges, who adopted the Papal name of Stephen XI in homage to his celebrated predecessor and to the patron saint of his archdiocese.

    While one could easily see King Phillip’s hand behind the act, and argue that the ecumenical council had been, in this circumstance, appropriated by the French Crown to serve her own interests, the fact remained that the doctrine, as a theological concept, found agreement by various clergymen outside of France proper, most notably in Normandy and England, in Scotland and also in Flanders and Lorraine. One ardent defender of this premise of “ecumenical legitimacy” was Thomas Becket, the influential Archbishop of Canterbury, who convinced the King *William IV of England to renege on the recognition of Lucius’ pontificate, and to acknowledge Stephen XI as the legitimate Pope.

    Lucius branded Stephen XI an antipope and schismatic, and put him, the Archbishop of Rheims and various other prelates of France under interdict, arguing that they had usurped a Papal prerogative of summoning ecumenical councils, and produced illegal offense to God and to the Holy Church.

    The French claimant was not acknowledged by Emperor Henry VI, but his political rivals in Lorraine and Swabia opportunistically bestowed support to Stephen to weaken Henry’s position, a situation that would jeopardize peace inside the Empire.

    In other kingdoms, such as Poland, Hungary and in other Catholic monarchies without ties to France, Lucius was recognized as the legitimate Patriarch of Rome.

    In one of those odd gists of fate, it came to pass that Stephen would outlive his principal adversaries. Emperor Henry VI died in the midst of autumn in 1171 A.D., and Pope Lucius too passed in the last week of the same year.

    The Roman Curia, still convinced about the ilegitimacy of Stephen XI's claim, convened the Cardinal-Bishops to another conclave, and in the spring of 1172 A.D., they elected yet another Italian aristocrat, related to the noble Crescentii family, who adopted the name of Sylvester IV. His very first act as Pope was to ratify Lucius’ condemnation against Stephen XI and his partisans in the clergy of France. Sylvester would then find in Henry’s successor, also named Henry [VII], nicknamed “the Lion”, a dedicated champion. The Emperor's embassy attempted to convince the King of France to drop support for Stephen XI, proclaiming him a schismatic usurper, but the terms of the diplomatic contact were so harsh that it was clear to Phillip that the Bavarian monarch was inviting war.

    The controversy between the Popes would sour the diplomatic relations between the Empire and France to a breaking point, and the dispute between the rulers of Provence, would result in the outbreak of a war between these crowned princes, as early as 1173 A.D., the first of various wars to be hosted in Europe between the Capetians and the Welfs.

    This is sufficient to explain why whatever interest there might be in the Crusade proclaimed by Pope *Lucius III against the Moors withered almost immediately after his death. This episode marked the first event in which a Papal summon was ignored and disregarded by the Catholic princes, and it would take one more decade for the Third Crusade to be actually executed.


    The Last of the Fāṭimīds

    As for Manuel, by 1173 A.D., having realized that there would be no actual Crusade against the Mohammedans in Africa or in Egypt, gave up his grand diplomatic course of action, and decided to take the matter in his own hands, resuming military actions in the southern littoral of the Mediterranean Sea.

    Over the course of the following years, the imperial armada ranged throughout the eastern and central Mediterranean, attacking the naval bases and commercial ports of Egypt, Cyrenaica and Africa, perhaps hoping to strangle trade and dry the economic prosperity of the Islamic realms.

    To avenge Rhõmanía against the Almohads, he gave support to the Banu Ghaniya, a remnant of the Almoravid dynasty established in the Balearics.

    As for the Fāṭimīds, while their economy was certainly damaged, they would endure further, given a lease of life by the agency of al-Aybak al-Ghazi al-Malik, who transformed the Caliphate into a de facto stratocracy, effectively governed by his loyal mamluks. The Rhōmaîoi would not, however, undertake further amphibious or overland assaults against the Egyptian mainland, and this allowed the Vizier to consolidate his power.

    Through the next years, al-Ghazi would dedicate a resolved campaign to eliminate the perceived enemies of the regime, notably the Sunnis and, more particularly, the Bedouins, who finally deserted [pun intended] to the Almohads.

    Seeing to be in a state of permanent hostility against the Christians, the Vizier also refused to make peace with the Franks, and prosecuted various raids against Palestine in between 1173 and 1178. In one of these attacks, he would go as far as ransacking the Templarian fortress of Hebron (1178 A.D.). Raymond avoided confrontation, perhaps fearing to suffer the same fate of his father, or simply concerned for the lack of adequate manpower, and pleaded for Manuel's support and for reinforcements from Europe. The Rhõmaîoi would keep a division of soldiers operative in Tyre and Sidon, but they never marched beyond the border of Palestine. Once again, during these years, the Sinai became a no-man's-land dividing the Christian and the Islamic realms, even more so because al-Ghazi demolished the few cities and fortifications in the region, notably Farama, in the Mediterranean coast.

    Only by bloodshed and despotism, however, he could not preserve the fabric of an unstable and disgraced state, whose political and institutional structure had been disintegrated by constant factionalism and religious conflict. Al-Aymak himself would face a premature death in 1178 A.D., falling from his horse during a hunt, and with him would die any hopes of a genuine Fāṭimīd resurgence. After him, the political framework of the Caliphate would collapse entirely, and its pieces would be fiercely disputed by a myriad of tyrants.

    It was certainly not evident to those who lived in this generation, which witnessed too many wars between brothers in faith, both in Christendom and in Islam, but this chain of events would, in the long run, all but ensure the ultimate triumph of the Catholic Crusaders in Egypt; this in detriment of Rhõmanía, whose agency, however, had permitted the final destruction of the Shiite Caliphate.



    __________________________________________________________________


    Notes and comments: This chapter was more of a "sum-up" of the previous events, and an introduction of important divergences. I believe that it might have by now become all too clear that the idea of a shared Crusader-Byzantine rule in Egypt won't become a reality. I apologize in advance to burst the bubble of the many readers that were hopeful to see an ever stronger Byzantium, and who expected to see how such a system would work out, but my purpose, as stated in other opportunities, was to conceive a plausible way to see an actual Crusader Egypt, sans Byzantium. Unfortunately for the Byzantinophiles, this means that, sooner or later, I must "sacrifice" Byzantium, somehow, to allow an unimpeded Frankish hegemony in the Levant and in Egypt. But wait for it!! The Komnenoi emperors still have a long way to go, Manuel included :)

    For the same reason, in fact, the conflict between the Fatimids and the Almohads found such a quick and direct solution. One poster here, indeed, pointed out that there was no plausible way for the Almohads, centered in Marrakesh, to wage a long-running war against the Fatimids, who are on their home turf. Spain is nearer and much more relevant as an economic and military target. So, don't keep hopes for another war between them, it will almost certainly not happen. However, the fact that the Bedouins joined the "anti-Shia" bandwagon and were subsequently persecuted by al-Aymak al-Ghazi might have important effects down the line in regards to the Bedouin demographics in northeastern Africa.

    The idea of a doctrinal controversy arising from the idea that Popes should be elected is an invented one, but one that, I hope, makes some sense in the context of the TL, especially because it was indeed something like that before the bull of 1059 A.D., and before the Popes were de facto nominated by the HREmperors; the Pope was supposed to be elected by the clergy with the consent of the laity. One of its provisions, in fact, was something like: "The remainder of the clergy and laity retain the right of acclaiming their choice". Now, I made it made vague on purpose if Stephen X/Bernard of Clairvaux did actually revoke the Papal bull. I believe he didn't, but, again, the matter is more political this time than actually canonical.

    Despite the heavy-handed foreshadowing about this war between Phillip and Henry the Lion, the conflict won't be so different from the low-level scale of warfare common at the period, focused in sieges and raiding instead of in set-piece battles. The King of France at the time was not really powerful and the French great nobles have no stakes in the war; Henry, while having a lot of resources, is severely constrained by the constant threat of rebellion from the Hohenstaufen and the associated nobility in Swabia and in Lorraine.

    The conflict between the House of Toulouse and the House of Barcelona regarding the partition of Provence is also invented, but has basis in history. Historical Alfonso-Jordan did seem to have fought a war to retain the whole of Provence, but failed; here, his successor Raymond [historical Raymond V of Toulouse] is desperate to secure Provence to his family after they effectively lost the demesne of Toulouse and Quercy. He can be bold, however, because Phillip is backing his every movement.

    King William IV of England is a fictional character, he is the son of alt-William Adelin, who, ITTL, did not die because the White Ship incident never happened (See Chapter 56). All the other characters mentioned here, excepting Al-Aymak and Sylvester IV, are historical, but are living alternate lives right now.
     
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    62. The Second War Between the Crusaders (1168 - 1173 A.D.)
  • Alright, let's get the train going again. This one is by far one of the largest (if not the largest) chapters I've written for the TL. At first I intended to break it up, but then, I figured it was worth of being posted whole, because there is but a single narrative theme in all the following subchapters.



    THE SECOND WAR BETWEEN THE CRUSADERS (1168 - 1173 A.D.)



    Sem título.jpg


    Illumination in the Cronica Hierosolimitana depicting the Battle of Saflat [Safed]



    Raymond-Jordan is Nominated Prince of Jerusalem and Duke of Galilee

    Now, we ought to reminisce that, in 1168 A.D., in the shores of Lake Möeris, called Qarun or Karun in the tongue of the Saracens, Raymond, second of this name of the Princes of Jerusalem, gave battle to the infidels and there he perished. In that day, many other lords and knights of the Outremer were ignominiously slain after being deprived of their armament and armor, such as Eustace of Tiberias and Alexander of Tripoli, as well as some of the clergy, such as Bishop Hugh of Haifa. All of them would be recognized as martyrs of the Christian faith by Pope *Lucius III.

    The news about the death of the Prince swiftly came to the Templarians in Jerusalem, and they immediately gave notice to Archbishop Bernard, who, having ventured into Egypt in the very first year of the war, had since then remained in the Outremer, to perform his various administrative, ecclesiastical and judicial duties, trusting the practice of war to the equestrian nobles. Now, he knew, the untimely death of these warriors was to have serious consequences for the Crusader State.

    Tancred of Damascus and other Norman and Lombard nobles affiliated to him had remained in Damietta after Raymond marched in his doomed expedition to take Cairo. Likely out of fear of treachery from Tancred, who was a detested enemy, Raymond did not deign to summon him to the incursion into the Nile River, so that he would not have to share the spoils of the triumph that, ultimately, never happened. Even after the battle of Lake Möeris, Tancred and his sergeants stayed in Damietta. He and his soldiers would later participate in the hopeless defense of this metropolis against the Fāṭimīds and the Almohads.

    As it happened, then, the Archbishop of the Holy Land, in the beginning of 1169 A.D., saw fit to nominate Raymond’s son, also named Raymond [III], known as “the Thrice-Christened”, as the new Prince of Jerusalem and Duke of Galilee, and he thus became the third of this name in the temporal rulership of the Outremer.

    Though the laws of the Earthly Kingdom had yet to be codified, and there was no Papal-sanctioned rule provisioning for the election of the Princes of Jerusalem, his measure incurred in the dissatisfaction of the lay aristocracy, seeing it had already become an established custom for at least four generations, ever since the First Crusade. Of course, they preferred a genuine elective system, in which they were equals and by the terms of which any of them - at least those who held the vote, influence and prestige - could be selected to be the first among them.

    Bernard was no fool, and predicted the nobles might oppose his abrupt intervention in the selection procedure of the lay prince. As a countermeasure, he solicited, in 1168 A.D. from Pope Lucius a proclamatio confirming his own supreme authority as the Papal legate active in the Holy Land, and institutional powers to nominate and depose the lay prince by his own volition. Indeed, according to the Pope’s own words, in his capacity as “Apostolic Legate”, the Archbishop of the Holy Land ought to receive divine inspiration to choose the defender of the Holy Sepulcher from among the most virtuous and pious of the Crusader knights, and to grant him the banner of the True Cross.

    In spite of this formal sanction of Pontifical legitimacy, the Frankish grandees knew all too well that Bernard, an ambitious and worldly character, had his own agenda, one that sought to establish the spiritual authority as being superior to the temporal one. This Bernard exemplified by ordering the minting of coins with the effigy of the Pope (of whom he himself was a direct political representative), instead of using the traditional and more conservative abstract images representing the cross on one side and the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, which were symbols of Jerusalem proper.

    The nobles knew, too, that Raymond-Jordan could be a convenient instrument to Bernard's desideratum. At the time of his accession to the Princely throne, he did not have much to show for. Aged twenty one years old, he was young and had little experience in matters of war or of the administration of the state, while most of his predecessors, such as his own father, were older or at least seasoned in the battlefield. His depiction by contemporary troubadours, as the perfect model of a chivalrous knight: valiant, gallant, god-fearing and generous, is all too suspect, especially considering that his family consistently bestowed patronage to them. However, it might be more fitting with reality the much less acclamatory portrayal of Ralph of Coggeshall - the English monk who became Metropolitan Bishop of Damascus at invitation of Countess Mabel -, in his “Chronicon Terrae Sanctae”, describing Raymond-Jordan as timid and mercurial personage, who seemingly had little desire to actually rule.

    In any case, whatever resentment the lay nobles might have towards Bernard and Raymond-Jordan was not demonstrated at the time. On the contrary, all of them attended a gathering presided by Raymond-Jordan in Nablus, in the spring of 1169 A.D., with the intent of mustering another army to relieve Frankish-controlled Damietta. The new Prince, however, was eventually forced to turn to the Michaelites and to the Hospitallarians for reinforcements and material assistance, considering that the war in Egypt had consumed a substantial portion of the Frankish manpower, mostly from disease and attrition during the various sieges, but also from his father’s last stand in the desert.

    Before the Franks could even arrive in Egypt, however, they received grim news: Damietta had fallen to an allied army of “Saracens and Moors” (i.e. the Almohads), and, after being expelled from it, thousands of Christians, notably Franks and Armenians, were mercilessly slain, including Tancred of Damascus. The cruel barbarians did not deign to give them proper burials, and thus their corpses were left to jackals and vultures, and their skeletons became interred in the sands in the fringe of the Sinai desert.

    Raymond then returned to Palestine, and granted the control of the castles of the Sinai and of southern Palestine, which pertained to his own personal demesne, to the Templarians, so as to protect the southwestern border of the Earthly Kingdom against a possible assault from the Egyptians.


    Bohemond II returns to the Outremer


    In 1169 A.D., to the great astonishment of Raymond and Bernard, Bohemond (II) Red-Face, the dispossessed ruler of Tyre, disembarked in that city, together with a small army of Sicilians and Lombards commanded by Simon of Taranto, and reclaimed his titles and estates. It is probable that Bohemond did know that Raymond II had been slain in Egypt in the previous year, and now sought to capitalize in the inevitable competition for succession. The Sicilian intervention in the Outremer, in support of Bohemond, must be situated in the larger context of the war between Sicily and Rhõmanía, likely devised by the Prince in Palermo to create a diversion and open another front of war against the Rhõmaîoi. We do not know about the conditions of the alliance of Bohemond and Prince William III of Sicily; no source suggests that Bohemond accepted vassalage to William, nor that the latter regarded him as anything but an equal. On the other hand, it seems that Simon of Taranto and his men were hired by Bohemond as mercenaries, thus forming one of the first companies of this kind. William of Sicily liked expected, in the event that Bohemond achieved mastery over the Outremer, to share whatever economic rewards he might obtain, while Simon’s soldiers expected immediate payment.

    Even if Bohemond, at first, presented himself merely as an wronged nobleman, who sought to reclaim his birthrights in Tyre against the tyrannical acts of an unjust suzerain (Bernard, in this case), it became all too clear from the start that Bohemond desired to depose Raymond, and place himself as the ruling Prince of Jerusalem, as well as to force the Archbishop of Jerusalem into political submission.

    Bernard, shocked by Bohemond’s sudden appearance, convened the Court of Grandees and proclaimed that, since Bohemond had been banished from the realm and stripped of his honors and patrimony, his unauthorized return made him liable to the pain of death. He thus summoned the vassals of the realm to subdue this Norman aristocrat that he deemed a “wretched criminal”.

    Bohemond, however, was held in great regard by the Normans and Lombards of Phoenicia and also by the Maronites, to whom he had pledged many benefits during his early years, and they mustered to him, seeing that his sentence had been unjust and unworthy of his valor and his position. Now he had another formidable ally, this being Richard, Lord of Arca [Arqa], brother of the deceased Count Alexander of Tripoli, and who claimed his inheritance. Alexander, after perishing in Egypt, was nominally succeeded by his son William (III), who, however, was still a minor, and had his accession challenged by Richard. The latter proclaimed allegiance to Bohemond while William was supported by Bernard and Raymond.

    Now, Bohemond, sided by Richard of Arca and other minor nobles of both Syrias, pleaded to the Court of Grandees for an election so that the Prince of Jerusalem and Duke of Galilee could be chosen by his peers. It is likely that was all but a ruse to gain time, because Bohemond immediately assembled the men-at-arms at his disposal and his allies, and, joined by the Sicilians, marched on Jerusalem. At the time, Raymond was in Caesarea, and thus, when the Normans arrived in the Holy City, Bernard was bereft of soldiers, the defense of his capital attributed to only the urban guardsmen and the knights of the military fraternities. The latter, however, having their manpower reduced by the Egyptian war, and by the necessity of maintaining the border fortresses, were in few numbers in Jerusalem. The Archbishop nonetheless refused to admit Bohemond’s entrance, accusing him of sedition and even of heresy and the situation rapidly escalated. The Count of Tyre, incensed by the debacle, initiated siege operations after the Templarian sworn-brothers charged against his men, being repelled only after a fierce melee. Bohemond knew, however, that triumph could only be certain if the Archbishop capitulated and accepted his conditions.

    Raymond, having hastily mustered an army of Frankish knights, Palestinian levies and Genoese mercenaries, attempted to surprise the Normans by attacking them from the rear, but failed to do so and was repelled in a brief engagement. Bohemond, however, could not besiege Jerusalem with the forces he was commanding, and, indeed, it seems that the very thought of shedding blood in the Holy City appalled him, so he raised the camp and returned to Tyre, so as to await for the arrival of Richard with reinforcements. He did arrive a few days later, bolstering the Norman, Lombard and Sicilian army, and thence they marched against the territories that belonged to the Prince of Jerusalem, regarded as nothing more than a pawn of the devious Archbishop.

    It was good news to Bohemond, then, that Mabel, the dowager Countess of Damascus, joined his cause and demanded an election to choose another Prince of Jerusalem and Duke of Galilee by the body of grandees.

    It is worth noting that neither she nor Bohemond or any of his partisans saw it too wise to directly challenge the Papal proclamatio, perhaps wary of being accused of religious schism. In fact, they acknowledged its terms, but instead challenged the premise that Raymond was indeed the “most virtuous and pious” of the Crusader knights, and argued that he was untested in battle and held no virtues whatsoever. Needless to say, it was a poor argument, and it scantily contradicted Bernard’s accusations of lèse-majesté against the Pope, but, in the end of the day, might still made right in the Frankish Orient, and Tyre and Damascus hoped that, in the event of a military defeat, Bernard would be forced to acquiesce Bohemond’s claim anyway, or would be forcefully removed from power.

    While she ruled nominally as a regent to her child son, Roger II of Damascus, Mabel was a fierce fighter and a proud descendant of William the Conqueror, who dressed in armor and led men in the field of battle, and thus her support was very much welcomed by Bohemond. According to Ralph of Coggeshall, a young English monk who had come as a pilgrim to the Holy Land and was created Metropolitan Bishop of Damascus - and who wrote one of the principal sources of the period, having been an eyewitness of many of its events -, she intended to avenge perceived humiliations against her family attributed to the dynasty of Toulouse.

    Raymond, believing himself to be outnumbered, retreated to Caesarea without giving battle to Bohemond and Richard, so as to await for his own allies to succor him. Meanwhile, Mabel hastily assembled her retainers, vassals and levies in Damascus.

    Raymond’s cousin Godfrey of Tiberias had only been recently elevated to the comital throne in Tiberias, after his brother Eustace died in Egypt, but he had proved his valor in the war against the Saracens in Egypt, and was also quick to assist Raymond with the host of Tiberias. In an engagement near Acre, he successfully thwarted Bohemond’s advance along the Mediterranean littoral, but Raymond arrived too late with his own men to assist Tiberias, and this allowed the Normans to retreat in good order. Then, the Prince refused to undertake pursuit, preferring to await the arrival of the Marquis of Tortosa.

    His indecisiveness, however, gave Mabel the time she needed to assemble her own levies, and, in the beginning of the following month, she fell upon Godfrey’s lands north of Lake Tiberias, and put the fort of Saflat [Isr. Safed] to siege. She found the stronghold undermanned, with many of its soldiers having joined Godfrey’s field army. It is said that she, cleverly taking advantage of the manly vices, employed various prostitutes to seduce the soldiers there standing, mostly of Palestinian and Armenian stock, and convinced them to abandon their posts, in exchange for a night of drunkenness and debauchery. In the dark of night, the gates were opened and the Damascene soldiers entered and put the stupefied defenders to death, some of them still embraced by the treacherous seductresses, who supposedly relished in the grisly outcome. Afterwards, Saflat was to be used as an advanced base of operations for Bohemond and Mabel.


    *******​


    After taking Saflat, the Normans attempted to force Raymond into battle when he was afield, but, when the Prince refused, opting to retreat once again, the Damascenes launched various raids to ravage Lower Galilee. In retaliation, the Toulousains raided the Syrian communities south of Tyre.

    In spite of the fact that Raymond preferred to avoid direct confrontation, instead opting to sustain a war of attrition against the Normans, especially against the demesne of Tyre, Bernard demanded immediate action against Bohemond. He himself donned his armor and mace, and assembled the Templarians in arms, and then marched directly against Saflat, urging Raymond and Godfrey to join him. Even if the Templarian sworn brothers had no particular love towards Bernard, they respected his authority as the Apostolic Legate, and gave almost fanatical devotion to the Papacy, especially to the memory of Pope Stephen X, who had been their greatest benefactor. The Knights of Saint Michael, however, refused to raise arms against fellow Christians, condemning the bloodshed, and argued that they ought to join together against the infidels, but to this Bernard responded with hostile threats, proclaiming that those inimical to the Earthly Kingdom were no better than heretics. It must be mentioned that dynastic and cultural affinities might have mattered in this specific case, unlike that of the Templarians - because the current Grandmaster of the Michaelites, Otto Gastald [It. Oddone Castaldo] was a Lombard nobleman whose family was related by marriage to the House of Salerno - but the whole debacle provoked the discontentment of the monastic orders, namely the Michaelites and the Cenaculiarians, whose masters exhorted Bernard to attempt a peaceful solution. The Archbishop, however, would have none of it, and refused any sort of settlement.

    Godfrey and Raymond followed Bernard, the former eager for battle, and the latter much more reluctant. Their enemies incited the Archiepiscopalian army to assault their fortified positions, but then they found that Bohemond’s army had established an improvised camp near the fortress of Saflat, which itself was situated atop a mountain, garrisoned by the Damascene heavy infantry and archers. Thus, the Jerusalemite army had to either divide its forces to attack both of these fortified positions, or to concentrate against one of the targets, and thus open themselves to flanking maneuvers from the other one.

    Firstly, Bernard attempted to attack Bohemond’s army in ground level, believing it to be an easier target, but they were repelled with substantial losses due to the concerted attack of Amalfitan and Sicilian mercenaries that had come with him to the Outremer. Employing many hundreds of crossbows - weapons of war whose usage had been banned by the Papacy decades before -, they exsanguinated the skirmishers and light infantry of Syrians and Palestinians conscripted by Caesarea and Tiberias. Afterwards, Bohemond’s seasoned warriors, who had themselves served as mercenaries in Africa and in Italy, sustained a bloody melee against Bernard’s troops, who, demoralized and struggling with inarticulate leadership, almost collapsed in a general rout. The day was saved by the Templarians, whose Grandmaster Gerard of Aigremont charged against Bohemond’s own position and unhorsed five of his sergeants, thus allowing for Raymond and Godfrey to sound retreat.

    Secondly, they attempted to reduce the fortress of Saflat, but the effort was doomed. The stronghold resisted various attempts of the assailants of storming its bastions and curtains, and, after they resigned to encircle it to await for the besieged to starve, attrition among the besiegers increased, especially because Bohemond constantly harassed them. Sapping operations against Saflat were fruitless due to the rugged terrain, and the employment of battering rams or towers was impossible, because there was but a single narrow road allowing access from the feet of the mountain to the castle.

    The situation transitioned into a stalemate, because the attackers failed to either dislodge Bohemond or to capture Saflat, but, then, they had also thwarted the Normans from advancing into lower Galilee, notwithstanding constant desertion and abounding attrition by camp fever. The war then became one of maneuvers, with the forces of both sides mostly balanced in terms of manpower and available resources.

    With the coming of winter, the parties agreed to an armistice, and disbanded parts of their levies, but the Normans refused to surrender Saflat, and thus, hostilities were expected to resume with the advent of spring in early 1170 A.D.

    Bohemond, however, had no intention of staying idle during the truce.

    He did not take further action in Palestine, but then, in the height of winter, he, with the Sicilian mercenaries, advanced against Tripoli, and, joined by Richard of Arca, they successfully deposed the infant ruler, his nephew William, who was ignominiously imprisoned, and ransacked the Tripolitanian treasure. His retainers, receiving hefty payments, then defected to Richard and to Bohemond.

    As it happened, the ruler of Beirut, also named William, the incumbent Seneschal of Jerusalem, opted to celebrate a separate peace with Bohemond and Richard, considering that his own fief was situated just between theirs, and rightly feared their might; he lacked enough men or resources to resist a siege, so, preserving neutrality was not a convenience, but a necessity. Even then, he provided constant overtures to Bernard to protect himself against retaliation, and even to the Pope, to whom he sent his wife, Joan of Albret [Occ. Jeanne d’Albret] as an emissary to plead his intervention to cease the bloodshed in the Outremer.

    To his felicity, Pope Lucius III would indeed give him ears, and would in time assemble a committee to assess the situation in Jerusalem.


    ******​


    The aggression against Tripoli violated the established peace and overturned the political and military balance of power between the belligerents, but the conflict was indeed only resumed in the following spring.

    Bernard and the Provençal and Lorrainer lords once again invested against Saflat, seeing that it was too near Tiberias for comfort; if Tiberias itself fell, the whole of Palestine would be open to their enemies. They were reinforced by Saracens [i.e. Arab] conscripts levied from Transjordania and also Armenian mercenaries from northern Syria.

    This time, they found Bohemond alone with his own army. It seemed that neither Mabel nor Richard had joined him. It was but a ruse. While the field army of Jerusalem was committed to the siege of Saflat, the army of Tripoli and of Damascus traversed Syria southward flanking the Anti-Lebanon mountains, and then entered the Jordan valley skirting the eastern shore of Sea of Galilee. They then crossed the Jordan river near Bassania [Isr. Beit She’an], and spread their parties of war into lower Galilee and in Samaria, with the intent of devastating the agricultural backbone of Palestine. Only Nazareth was spared, because of its religious significance, as well as Nablus, because it was strongly fortified, but the various villages and parishes in the region were depopulated and incinerated. This forced Raymond to return in a hurry with his army to protect his lands in Samaria, and Jerusalem herself. His recklessness, however, put himself in harm’s way; in an engagement near Nablus, he successfully thwarted an assault against Caesarea, but was almost slain in the field of battle, and his men became demoralized.

    In retaliation, Raymond ordered his younger brother, William-Berengar [Occ. Guilhèm-Berenguer], Viscount of Acre, to conduct a seaborne assault against Tyre. Caesarea had a small fleet of half a dozen galleys, but he had contracted a group of Genoese mercenaries, who arrived in the Outremer in May 1170 A.D., and thence they raided along the Phoenician coast, focusing in Tyre and in Tripoli. William-Berengar disembarked in Tortosa, and from there, finally reinforced by the troops of his uncle, Henry the Constable, they marched against Tripoli. The city was a formidable stronghold, and resisted siege, but the outlying country was devastated. The coastal town of Calemont [Leb. Al-Qalamoun], which had been colonized by Beneventan Lombards, was completely destroyed, and its denizens were slaughtered, regardless of them being fellow Christians.

    Once again, however, in spite of these bold advances, no side obtained a genuine breakthrough. The environmental devastation and the human casualties were significant, and so was the disruption of commerce resultant from the state of warfare, but the core centers of power in Caesarea, Jerusalem, Tiberias and Tortosa, in one side, and Tyre, Tripoli and Damascus, in the other, remained intact, and most of the castles erected in Palestine and Syria did not change hands. Transjordania, the Damascanese, Beirut and Émèse remained untouched by war.


    The Coming of the Embassy from the Holy See and of Pilgrims of England and France


    In late 1170 A.D., an embassy of Cardinal-Bishops and Archdeacons came from Rome to assess the situation, at behest of Count William of Beirut, and the arrival of these Pontifical dignitaries imbued with the Papal auctoritas was enough to impose a (undesired) truce between the belligerents. Evidently, it was of great concern to the Holy See the fact that the Earthly Kingdom of God itself was suffering with what they regarded as yet another instance of knightly violence, and, their mission was to bring peace to the Realm.

    Their leader was the Papal chamberlain [Ita. camerlengo], Cardinal-Bishop John of Naples [Ita. Giovanni da Napoli]. The situation of the conflict was appalling, as was the loss of human lives. It was, then, somewhat surprising that the most vocal opponent of a definitive settlement was none other than the Archbishop of the Holy Land himself, Bernard, who insistently affirmed that the Count of Tyre had previously been judged for previous offenses and that his sentence had been ultimate, and that he, now, was but a criminal and offender to the divine order in the Realm of God, as were his associates. It seems that they soon enough realized, with appropriate disquiet, that Bernard had been one of the instigators of the conflict, and then sought to curb his institutional influence in the procurement of a solution to the debacle.

    John of Naples was of a more pragmatic demeanor; he saw it was necessary to promote conciliation and understanding between the belligerent parties, not in the least because the Realm needed the valor and fortitude of these knights in their war against the infidels. Thus, when Bernard attempted to summon, once again, the High Court of Jerusalem to pass trial to Bohemond, he was rebuked by Papal chamberlain, who arrogated himself with higher authority in the solution of disputes.

    John’s very first act was to summon the leaders of these parties to a summit in Jerusalem. There, he severely chastised them for these unlawful acts of fraternal violence, scantily a few years after many of the flock of God had perished in the dreaded land of Egypt. Then, in a symbolic act inviting penitence, they were prevented from entering the Temple and the Sepulcher, and ordered to atone for their sins. After they did, they received an also symbolic embrace into the Church, and then the Treuga Dei [truce of God] was finally established, under promise of future adjudication of the respective claims in a new Pontifical trial. Accordingly, Bohemond, Mabel, Raymond, Godfrey and the associated princes deposed arms, and awaited for the formation of the grand trial. It was all convenient that autumn was under way and winter was coming, and keeping the levies mustered was exacting its toll on the prosperity and well-being of their lands.

    The problem, however, was that John of Naples saw this act of reconciliation as enough in itself for the time being, and, instead of immediately undertaking the inquest, he decided the opportunity was good enough to install a synod to address various other questions, mostly of ecclesiastical nature. This can be understood in its historical context; under the pontificates of Stephen X and his more conservative successors such as Lucius III and Sylvester IV, there was a great concern with clerical discipline, doctrinal fundamentalism and with the institutional health of the Church-maintained organizations, such as the parishes, the monasteries and the armed fraternities. Having received various reports of dissoluteness and indiscipline of the Outremerine clergy, as well as of preoccupying denounces of simony related to the sales of supposedly holy relics, the Holy See had entrusted Chamberlain John with the task of correcting these transgressions and restoring moral purity among the men and women of God in the Holy Land. It is noticeable, from the wording of the contemporary documents, that as early as 1170 A.D. we see some prejudice from European prelates, such as John of Naples himself, against the native “Poulain” clergymen, of which Bernard was the most notable example, who are seen as more susceptible to the vices of concupiscence and of venality due to their contact with the Syrian races, an odd animosity that is almost certainly grounded in the historical contemptuousness of the Orient as a degraded and decadent reality.

    This apparent disinterest in the more pressing matter of the political dispute between the lay princes aroused the irritation of the involved nobles. In this case, the fact that the Church was seemingly interfering in a temporal matter was irrelevant; men such as Raymond and Bohemond were all too pragmatic, and were more concerned about having their conflict solved by a legitimate authority, be it spiritual or temporal.

    They would have to wait, however.


    ******​


    In the same year of 1170 A.D., the Outremer saw the coming of an entourage of notables, lay and ecclesiastical noblemen from France and England. It might not have amounted to anything more than some a few hundreds, comprising the feudatories and the churchmen, and their respective retainers and assistants. Among them, must be mentioned Robert Capet, Count of Dreux, brother to King *Phillip II of France, who was also, by right of conquest, Duke of Émèse [Homs]; as well as his brothers Henry, Bishop of Beauvais, and Peter of Courtenay, and their friends and associates, Rotrou IV of Perche and Henry I of Champagne, who were two of King Phillip’s most loyal vassals. Also noteworthy was the presence of Henry of Winchester, youngest son of King *William III of England, and his cousin Eustace IV of Boulogne, as well as John of Ponthieu, heir-apparent of the County of Alençon, and Joscelin, Bishop of Salisbury.

    Their voyage was part of a “Peregrinatio Pacifica” sanctioned by *Pope Lucius III at behest of Thomas Becket and of Louis Capet, who were, respectively, the Archbishops of Canterbury and of Archbishop of Rheims, so as to expiate the sins committed by these nobles, all of whom had been involved in the war between the feudatories of Perche and Alençon (1166-1169), a bloody conflict which had been instigated by King Phillip II against William III of England. Although the expedition is referred as a Crusade in the contemporary English sources, it does seem that, in reality, it was all but a large-scale pilgrimage of warriors orchestrated to solve a political and military conflict between the monarchs of France and England. None of them seemed actually interested in undertaking a long-lasting campaign in the Holy Land, excepting for Peter of Courtenay, who would soon join the Templarian Order as a “lay brother”. The stories about massacre of the Frankish Crusaders after the fall of Damietta, once Phillip of Flanders and his veterans returned to their homeland and spread the tales about the deeds and the misfortunes of the Franks in Egypt, certainly produced outcry back in Europe, but it also served to discourage any ideas of another campaign against the Fāṭimīds so soon.

    They followed the Via Francigena from northern France to Rome, whereupon they were received, as pilgrims and penitents, by Pope Lucius, and from there they went to Capua, whereupon they embarked in four Amalfitan galleys financed by them with silver borrowed from the Templarians.

    The majority of them stayed in the Outremer for only a brief period, in some cases for scantily less than a month. They did entertain some ideas to campaign in Egypt, but the idea was not welcomed by Cardinal John, who instead gave them indulgences as soon as they finished the usual sight-seeing itinerary comprising the holy sites in Jerusalem, in the Jordan valley, in Nazareth and Bethlehem. The English and the Normans also had a predilection towards Lydda in Samaria, the birthplace of Saint George (regarded by them as the very first Crusader). It was this novelty that inspired one of theirs, Ralph de Warenne, the youngest son of William II, Earl of Surrey, to accept the offer of a money-fief associated with the town of Lydda and some neighboring villages in southern Samaria, and then he proclaimed allegiance to the Holy City and fealty to the Holy Father. Soon afterwards, he would marry Mabel of Damascus - who, like himself, was an Anglo-Norman aristocrat -, thus becoming rising from a destitute noble to one of the most prosperous lords of the Outremer.

    By the time that the participants of this pilgrimage were ready to return to Europe, Robert of Dreux, with his brothers and their respective employees and servants traveled instead to Émèse, whereupon they were received with honors by Simon [III] of Montfort, Count of Ioannine [Syr. Salamiya] and Gravanssour [Syr. al-Qusayr].

    The former lords of Montfort, after their predecessor Amaury came with King Phillip during the *Second Crusade and decided to start his life anew in the Orient, had become one of the wealthiest families of the Outremer, and their position as regents of Émèse over the course of the three decade-long absence of their liege-lord had allowed them to freely exploit the land to their benefit. Simon had ruled Émèse with iron fist, and, under his purview, the country had been greatly fortified by new castles, a cathedral had been constructed in the capital city, and taxes from the peasantry and the merchants were levied regularly.

    Then, it came to pass that Robert, Lord of Dreux, decided that he would prolong his stay in the Outremer, so as to survey the realm that had been carved to himself during the *Second Crusade, almost thirty years before. Ralph of Coggeshall affirms that Robert was greatly impressed by the wealth and exuberance of this land of Syria, where olives, oranges, sugar beets and cotton grew abundantly from the earth, and spices from India and Cathay could be found in most markets. It is said that, after participating in a procession conducted by the Archbishop of Émèse, he vowed to dedicate himself, once again, to the cause of the cross to protect and guard the Holy Land.

    His decision to remain would forever change the history of the Crusader State.


    The first Synod of Jerusalem


    As described in aforewritten lines, Chamberlain John of Naples installed an ecumenical synod in Jerusalem. The proceedings were held over various months from late 1170 A.D. well into the spring of 1171 A.D., when the council was finally dissolved and the Papal embassy left the Outremer.

    Being the first ecumenical synod held in the Holy Land in more than a millennium, and because it involved not only Catholic, but also Orthodox, Armenian and Syriac prelates from the regions under the Frankish and Rhõmaîon administration, it has a highly symbolic significance because it demonstrated the new possibilities of the dialogue between the European and Asian Churches resultant of the settlement of the Franks after the First Crusade. Its objective, however, was not to delve into doctrinal or theological controversies - it seems that Pope *Lucius III indeed intended to summon another ecumenical council to address these matters, but he would not live enough to see it fulfilled - but rather in more “mundane” aspects of the local religious institutions, such as to solve disputes involving the distribution of serfs, slaves, benefices and lands to the monasteries and the armed fraternities and to prosecute accusations of simony, and even of heresy, directed against purported adepts of Nestorianism in northern Syria, under the suzerainty of Damascus. All of these proceedings, especially the inquiries of heresy, in fact, created an awkward sentiment in the native Syriac clergy, because their religious practices were markedly different from both the Catholic and Orthodox ones, and, in spite of being subjects of the Crusader State and of the Empire, they never sought adhesion to the Catholic or Orthodox rites.

    One important event was the accusation of clerical indiscipline forwarded against Bernard by the Cenacularians. Indeed, they argued that Bernard, by actually engaging in military campaigning and even in battles and sieges, had produced grave offenses and incurred in sins of pride and wrath. The Archbishop, used as he was to the exercise of political power, was disconcerted to see himself as a defendant in an ad hoc ecclesiastical court, where he lacked influence. The accusations, grave as they were, endangered Bernard’s political position; Cardinal John, accordingly, issued a suspension order against Bernard, and, as a substitute, until the end of the trial, was placed in the Archepiscopalian chair another Italian Cardinal, Walter of Albano [Ita. Gualtiero d’Albano]. Bernard immediately sent emissaries to Rome so as to appeal directly to the Pope.

    The Holy Father, however, did not deign to appreciate his appeal before judgment was passed in the synod of Jerusalem. It did came to happen only in the week preceding Christmas, after which the court was adjourned to the following year. The court, by a significant majority, condemned Bernard for having instigated, and, in some cases, actually participated in acts of violence involving Christians. His sentence was of deposition from his office, and thus his position was Archbishop was voided, although he, after public acts of penance during Christmas - by which he dressed as a beggar and, deprived from food, he mortified himself by staying afoot in the cold of winter in the top of the Calvary over the course of two weeks, until the day of Epiphany, when he was once again welcomed into Jerusalem - he retained the pallium, even though his ascending career was effectively over. After this, he returned to Italy, and, after failing to overturn his sentence, even more so because Pope Lucius died before he could appreciate the appeal, and his successor Pope Sylvester was anything but sympathetic to his cause, Bernard would eventually abandon hopes for receiving another position, and devote himself to monastic life, whereupon he disappears from History.

    Walter of Albano, despite being a Cardinal-Bishop himself, accepted the office of the Archbishopric, seeing it as a more prestigious position due to the association with the Holy City of Jerusalem.


    ******​


    The judgment of the lay princes was initiated only after the inquiries of the clergy finished, already in January 1171 A.D.

    The trial was conducted simultaneously with the synod, but, seeing that a matter of non-ecclesiastical nature had to be decided by another institution, an ad hoc court of clergy and lay nobles was installed by the decree of the Chamberlain. The participants of this court of justice, then, were three prelates - Walter of Albano, Raynald of Gaeta [Ita. Rainaldo di Gaeta], and Henry of Beauvais - and three laymen - Robert of Émèse, Henry Doria [Ita. Enrico Doria], the Genoese governor of Jaffa, Paul Morosini [Ita. Paolo Morosini], a Venetian Patrician who was, at the time, Chancellor of Jerusalem. It seems that they were chosen out of the expectation of impartiality, being unrelated by marriage or evident political interests to the ruling lords of the Realm, and unlikely to favor any of the involved parties.

    The verdict was favorable to Bohemond, and it is probable that personal sympathies greatly benefited him in this trial, whose result was much more political than legal; Bohemond was the (maternal) grandson of the most famous Prince of Jerusalem, who had, now decades after his death, achieved a fabled reputation, and was seen as a worthy inheritor of the genuine Crusadist tradition and ideology. Besides, in person, he was well regarded by the Italian nobles resident in Jerusalem, considering that he had, before his exile, granted them extensive estates in Phoenicia, as well as commercial privileges. To avoid a genuine condemnation due to the ascribed sins of violence perpetrated during the war, he also provided a public demonstration of penance, as did his former associates, Richard of Arca and Mabel of Damascus.

    In the case of Richard of Arca, his usurpation against his nephew William was also condemned, but he, perhaps seeing that challenging it would yield worse results, accepted the verdict and abdicated from his position as Lord of Tripoli, and resigned also from the regency to his restored liege. As his later actions demonstrate, however, he, in this event, was simply biding his time. Soon enough he would press his claim to the county once again.

    The problem, however, was that the court also confirmed Raymond’s position as the sole Prince of Jerusalem and Duke of Galilee. Despite the fact that it seemed to exist a lingering desire from the nobles to call for another election, John of Naples emphasized that Prince Raymond had been elevated not by Bernard’s fiat but rather by the authority delegated to him by the Supreme Pontiff himself, and the fact that Bernard was now deposed was irrelevant, and did not void Raymond’s elevation. Thus, it would have been awkward to the judges to interfere in this matter, lest they might be seen as usurpers of Papal prerogatives.

    In any event, this was evidently a political defeat for the Provençal nobleman and his partisans, because they expected that the High Court’s previous sentence, condemning Bohemond and ordering his exile, would be upholded. Now, the blocs of influence, pitting the Prince of Jerusalem, Tiberias and Tortosa, in one side, and Tyre, Damascus and, indirectly, Tripoli, in another - with the others, from Emèse, Beirut and Transjordania, apparently unaffiliated and more interested in preserving the status quo. However, the overall result was that Raymond’s political position was severely weakened; he had to admit that he lacked actual suzerainty or agency in the affairs of the Latin-Levantine grandees, who were, by now, quasi-independent, and would not accept Raymond’s preeminence. The seeds of another conflict were again sowed, especially because, to his allies, Bohemond made no secret that he desired the princely crown, and his claim had been supported by the Sicilians and by the most formidable of the Latin-Levantine magnates.

    Then, by the time that the Pontifical committee departed from Palestine, the animosity between the former belligerents only grew. Walter of Albano was, much like other of his predecessors such as Gregory and Suger, a pragmatist, but he would fail to thwart another military escalation involving these same lords.


    The Sicilians and Latin-Levantines go to the Sea


    With the advent of spring, 1171 A.D., five or six galleys came from Italy and harbored in Tyre. They presented the flag of the Republic of Ancona, but they were, in fact, Amalfitan vessels under service of Prince William of Sicily; the deception permitted them to voyage from the peninsula to the eastern Mediterranean unmolested, safe from the surveillance of the Rhõmaîon warships, who, after two years, were counter-attacking Maio of Bari’s forays against the Mediterranean provinces of the Empire.

    The Sicilians and Amalfitans were welcomed by Bohemond, who had only recently been recognized in Jerusalem as the legitimate ruler of the County of Tyre and the associated demesne and estates. In Tyre, the Italians were given supplies, weapons and a reinforcement of three hundred men-at-arms, whose commanders were Richard of Arca and Bohemond’s brother-in-law, Roger “Felix” Drengot, the Vidame of Banaïs de Chulam [i.e. Banias of the Golan Mountains]. Not a few of the knights and soldiers of Tripoli deserted the suzerainty of the infant Count William and banded to the persona of Richard, who was a far more charismatic character.

    From Tyre, they undertook various raids over the whole of the eastern Mediterranean, directed against the imperial provinces. It seems that their objective was not to wage a war of conquest, but rather to distract Constantinople to, perhaps, facilitate the advances of Maio of Bari in the Aegean and in the Adriatic Seas. Thus, they acted much like pirates, seeking easy victories against unprotected harbors and merchant ships, and avoiding naval confrontation.

    Laodicaea was the first to fall. It was the main port of the Empire in Syria, but the city had been severely damaged by an earthquake that happened in June 1170 A.D., one that devastated the main urban settlements of the region, from Antioch and Aleppo all the way to Ahmàt [Syr. Hama], and its defenses had yet to be properly rebuilt. In the places where the stone curtains collapsed, the local garrison placed improvised wooden palisades, likely not expecting a seaborne attack. Once the attackers disembarked and destroyed the defenses, the local garrison capitulated without fight; they were too few to resist. They were made prisoners and forced to man the galley’s oars.

    Afterwards, the Normans entered Cyprus, by the way of Limassol. After the Egyptian War, during which the island had served as an important base of naval and logistical supply, no greater care was given to its military protection, considering that the Empire did not expect to face any threats whatsoever in the region: the Fāṭimīds lacked a navy, and the Latin-Levantines were friendly and allied. Thus, it came as a shock that these ships, holstering the symbols of Ancona, were actually hostiles; their deception allowed them free passage into the harbor, and, once they had disembarked, it was easy enough to overpower the local garrison and then imprison them. Still under deceptive disguise, they were welcomed in Nicosia by the local governor, an elderly captain of Armenian origin named Abraham [Arm. Avrahamos], who believed them to be merchants and mercenaries, and put his bodyguards to death in a brief engagement. Abraham was also made a prisoner and hostage, and over the course of almost a whole month, Richard and Roger and their men had free reins to perpetrate various heinous acts, plundering, raping and enslaving the hapless Cypriots. They only departed after the irate peasants banded together into an impromptu militia and killed some of their men while they were drunk in a feast in Nicosia.

    When the court in Constantinople finally reacted the news about the plundering of Laodicaea and Cyprus - at first believing that it was an act of treachery from the Anconitans - they had to deploy a reserve war-fleet, established in Crete, to scour the sea against these freebooters. At the time, Manuel was campaigning in Apulia, and thus the imperial domestic affairs were under the purview of his elder son, Alexios Porphyrogenitus [Gre. Aléxios hoPorphyrogénnētos], who was then in Thessalonica.

    The fleet intercepted them off the coast of Attaleia, after they had fattened their bags of plunder with the loot from the defeated town of Kalonoros, former Coracesium [Tur. Alanya], and, rather surprisingly, they managed to flee, courtesy of a storm that wrecked some of the Rhõmaîon dromonoi.

    By the end of 1171 A.D., the Rhõmaîoi had demonstrated their clear military superiority by reducing various fortresses in Apulia, which made these naval forays of little to no strategic value in the grand scheme of the war. Maio of Bari was forced to abandon his project of an amphibious invasion of Greece, and had to return with his galleys to defend the island of Sicily itself, once an (real) Anconitan fleet allied to the Komnenoi outmaneuvered him, bypassing Calabria and going as far as Syracuse, which was captured and ransacked.

    After peace was established between Rhõmanía and Sicily, Manuel did not forgot about the hostile acts perpetrated by the Latin-Levantine men allied to the Sicilians, and, soon enough, before 1172 A.D. dawned, he was preparing another military expedition to punish all those who had offended the integrity of the Empire and of its citizens.


    Manuel Komnenos Marches into the Outremer

    As we have aforementioned, the political context of the Crusader State saw various changes since the Egyptian Crusade. For the first time, a seated Archbishop of the Diocese of the Holy Land had been deposed, and held accountable for political acts.

    Despite the fact that the trial of 1171 A.D. had expressly recognized Raymond-Jordan [III] as the legitimate Prince of Jerusalem and Duke of Galilee, it had also resumed the status quo ante bellum by granting a general pardon to the nobles that had opposed him and Bernard, chief among them being Bohemond [II], Count of Tyre.

    Now, this left Raymond in a precarious position, from a political standpoint. While Bernard’s erratic decisions had brought intestine conflict in the Realm, Raymond knew that he had been his principal benefactor and colleague, and no other Apostolic Legate would adopt the same stance towards him.

    To him (and to all the other Poulain, for the matter) Walter of Albano was strange to his causes and to the relevant matters that resulted in the disputes between the armed aristocrats. In fact, his life work in the Orient was dedicated to the organization of the Latin Church’s institutions and to his attempts of bringing the native liturgies - Syriac and Armenian - into accordance with the Catholic one. While he was very much concerned with the episodes of fratricide violence between the Latin-Levantine lords, he saw their disputes as beneath him, and earnestly believed that the correct and conscientious exercise of his judicial prerogatives as the Apostolic Legate in Jerusalem would be enough to pacify conflicts and quench animosities. In this regard, it seems that he grossly misunderstood the context of the political and military struggles involving the Provençals and the Normans and their respective allies.

    Raymond’s authority as Prince had been gravely undermined. If his allies in Tiberias and Tortosa remained steadfast and supported him, they did so only due to familial bonds and in evident expectation of favoritism and patronage, but others, notably those of Damascus and Tyre, remained inimical to him. He realized that the nobles might have finally accepted his elevation to the head of the principality by Papal fiat, but they denied him obedience.

    In fact, Bohemond had, even after the truce, refused to surrender the fortress of Saflat, which pertained to the domain of Tiberias, Raymond’s brother-in-law. Raymond issued an ultimatum to Bohemond to either surrender Saflat or to destroy its fortifications, but the Count of Tyre refused to do so, affirming that Tiberias lacked the necessary manpower to garrison it, and that these defensive structures were necessary to protect the Jordan valley from the incursions of the Muslims into Palestine. Saflat, however, is distant less than a single day’s march to Tiberias or to Acre, and thus Raymond and Godfrey were sure to fear Bohemond’s presence so near them.

    Raymond attempted to obtain the support of Paul Morosini, the Chancellor of Jerusalem, who was also the Viceduke of Transjordania, by promising him the grant of all the lands, benefices and castles as a hereditary allodial patrimony. The Viceduke, however, an elderly Venetian aristocrat of mild disposition, devoted his attention to commerce instead of to war, and knew that this was but an empty promise, as it was dependent on Papal sanction. In any event, when Raymond attempted to extract from the Viceduke the promise of joining him in another war against Bohemond to take Saflat, the latter refused, being wholly unwilling to participate in the bloodshed against Christians.


    ******​


    In the summer of 1173 A.D., Manuel marched from Aleppo into the Crusader State, at the head of an army comprising perhaps more than seven thousand soldiers. His intent was not clear at first; the anxious Archbishop Walter perhaps expected that his objective was to, once again, invade Egypt. He attempted to convince him otherwise, arguing that Palestine lacked the necessary resources to nourish his men during the march.

    Soon, however, the Archbishop found out that Raymond and Godfrey too had mustered their knights, and then the Basileus’ intent became clear. His ambassador in Jerusalem, heeding the imperial envoys, communicated that the autocrat had come to punish transgressions and violations of the laws of God and of the Empire, perpetrated by Bohemond of Tyre, by Mabel of Damascus and by Richard of Arca, as by other nobles and commoners associated to them. He argued that they, moved greedily and contumely, had created a state of unlawful violence in the Holy Land, and usurped the lands and honors that pertained to the Realm.

    While the sources do not attest it clearly, it seems that Raymond, having failed to extol obeisance from the Norman lords, presented his case directly to the Basileus; John Kinnamos records that, in the year before that, William-Berengar, Raymond’s brother, was received with honors in Constantinople, and to him and to Raymond, the Basileus granted the honorifics of Hypatos and Patrikios. Afterwards, William-Berengar remained attached to the Basileus’ retinue until his coming to Jerusalem. This hardly seems a coincidence, and it is likely that Raymond realized that remaining in Manuel’s grace would allow him to lever up his position in the Frankish Levant.

    In any event, Manuel had reasons of his own to seek justice. The attacks of the bandoleers commanded by Richard and Roger Felix of Arca against Laodicea, Cyprus and the southern littoral of Asia Minor aroused his wrath - according to John Kinnamos, he, having heard about these raids while campaigning in Apulia, had summoned God’s vengeance, in the same way He had purged the Philistines.

    Now, Manuel ordered these culprits to abandon their castles and arms to face the Emperor’s justice.


    ******​


    Theological and political incompatibilities notwithstanding, Manuel had, over the course of his reign, maintained good relations with the Latin Popes, especially with Stephen X and *Lucius III after him; with Lucius’ successor Sylvester IV was not different. Manuel officially acknowledged him as the legitimate holder of the Patriarchate of Rome, refusing to recognize the French-backed candidate Stephen XI. This, then, put Sylvester in an awkward position when he was informed by the emissaries of Constantinople that the Basileus had marched into the Holy Land with a large army; the newly-elevated Pope, who had already upholded the decretals of the I Synod of Jerusalem and of the sentence produced by the so-called "Ioannine Court”of 1171 A.D. (thusly called in reference to its president, Cardinal-Bishop John of Naples), urged Manuel to acknowledge and respect the authority which had produced a peaceful solution to the conflicts between the Crusader knights of Jerusalem, and to refrain from introducing an armed force into the Earthly Kingdom of God if not imbued with the intent of waging war against the infidels.

    Manuel, however, answered that the Realm of God was under his protection as the Emperor, the commander-in-chief of God’s armies, and the high guardian of the Holy Sepulcher, and thus it was his mission too to purge the land from traitors of the faith and usurpers. He recognized Raymond III as the legitimate Prince of Jerusalem, but Bohemond, Richard and Mabel were decried as usurpers.

    This time, however, there would be no trial. If before Manuel had opted for a more diplomatic and legalist approach, convening a judicial court of Frankish aristocrats to settle the disputes between the warring nobles, now he outright accused these Norman aristocrats of sedition and unlawful violence and demanded their immediate capitulation.

    Bohemond’s refusal to acquiesce to the ultimatum resulted in a declaration of war.

    Richard of Arca, who, after being deposed from the lordship of Tripoli, had been welcomed in Bohemond’s court as the Constable of Tyre, hastily assembled the sergeants and conscripted levies, hoping to thwart Manuel’s advance against Tyre.

    This time the odds were wholly unbalanced against the Normans. They could not commit to a pitched battle, and thus they produced skirmishes in an attempt to force the Rhõmaîoi host to the more mountainous terrain of eastern Phoenicia - where their numerical disadvantage could be compensated -, but they were quickly outmaneuvered by the Turkish and Pecheneg light cavalry at service of the Empire, whose assaults in fact contained the Norman cavalry. Then, Bohemond saw himself entrapped in the Litani valley and was forced to face battle. Enjoying superiority in numbers, Megas Domestikos Alexios Axouch completed a pincer movement, encircling the Norman army. The bloodshed was enormous, and Richard of Arca perished in the melee, as did many Norman and Lombard knights, and hundreds of Syrian soldiers who had been conscripted to fight in this hopeless war.

    The Count of Tyre himself, with a handful of men, fought his way out of the engagement and over the next following days attempted to muster his broken army, but, then, in desperation, he opted to flee to Hautchastel [OTL Beaufort Castle]. He was intercepted by the Armenian rangers loyal to Tiberias. Thinking him to be a lesser knight, they killed him on the spot, and, only then, after retrieving his signet and his shield, did they bring him, the corpse already empty of soul, to their liege-lord, who, nonetheless, congratulated them for the grisly deed.


    The Downfall of the Bohemondines


    His son and successor, Bohemond III, attempted to negotiate terms for peace, but Manuel was resolute in unconditional capitulation. Tyre briefly entertained resistance, but if this could do something to preserve the honor of the Norman magnate, it did little to save what was now a hopeless cause. On the very first day that the trebuchets were employed against the fortifications, Bohemond opened the gates and bent the knee.

    The Rhõmaîon autocrat demonstrated no mercy to the Bohemondines. Proclaiming that they had been pardoned once, now their crimes could not be tolerated, even more so because they had marred with violence the sanctity of the Earthly Kingdom of God. Bohemond III was deposed and stripped from his titles, as were his closest relatives and his immediate vassals and retainers. They were then forced into an ignominious exile and would return to Europe in dishonor. And so it ended, after three generations, the Hauteville dominion in the Orient, one that had been forged from the crumbling edifice of the Islamic principalities by the audacity of Bohemond of Taranto. In the end, his nemeses, the Rhōmaîoi, had triumphed, and eradicated his lineage and legacy in the Holy Land. Although his cognates in Sicily would endure as champions of the Crusader heritage, notably in the prosecution of holy wars in Africa, Bohemond’s own progeny would fade from History after 1173 A.D.

    The lands and estates that comprised the former County of Tyre were given by the Basileus to Doux Andronikos Dalassenos Komnenos - Manuel’s brother-in-law, and who was, in fact, of Norman descent, his grandfather having been one of the veterans of the war of Robert Guiscard who defected to Rhõmaîon cause. He had some familiarity with the Norman language and respectful of his ancestry, so he was expected to be a more palatable candidate to placate the Frankish minor aristocrats and gentry who were now forced to pay homage to him.

    At the time, the Lateran could do little in regards to Manuel’s intervention. Pope Sylvester protested against the fraternal violence between those imbued with the will of pilgrimage and crusading; however, he was much more concerned by the revolutions of the Stefanese Schism and the subsequent war between the King of France and the Kaiser, and the situation in the Outremer soon enough became a faît accompli.


    ******​


    Unlike in the previous years, this time Mabel of Damascus did not come to the succor of the Tyrians. At the time, she was pregnant, awaiting what would be her second son, this one sired by her new husband, Ralph de Warenne, who had only recently departed to England, where he intended to procure money to sustain his fief and free men and their families willing to settle in Syria.

    Manuel, during his brief stay in Jerusalem, during which he had left his army garrisoned in Saflat and in Caesarea, summoned the Archbishop and the Frankish lords and bade them to renew their oaths to him as their liege-lord. Mabel refused to allow her son, the Count of Damascus, to join the gathering, arguing that he was but a child, and she herself was carrying a baby in her womb, meaning that neither of them could afford the risks of travelling overland.

    Nonetheless, seeing that she had been part of the same conspiracy that had attempted to dethrone Raymond years ago, Manuel decided Damascus had to give a demonstration of obeisance as well, and there he went to, accompanied by his guard as well as by Walter of Albano, and by the lords of Caesarea, Tiberias, Tortosa and Transjordania. In Damascus, they were received with honors and feast by the infant Count Roger - then aged 10 years-old - and Mabel, in her capacity as regent and steward. Silently withstanding the humiliation, Mabel saw her son being admonished to prostrate himself and pay homage to the Basileus, but the worst she suffered was seeing him be taken as a hostage to Constantinople, with other sons of Frankish nobles, to receive education in the imperial court. To add insult to injury, Manuel voided her position as regent, and installed Gerard of Aigremont, the Grandmaster of the Templarians, as the ad hoc governor of Damascus until Roger came of age.

    As it happened, then, the rapid and unforeseen destitution of the Bohemondines shocked their former colleagues among the Frankish aristocracy that ruled and governed the Outremer, and bred discontentment against the Manueline suzerainty. Indeed, the Franks had grown all too accommodated to the status quo, one of a distant, albeit influential, sovereign, to whom they could pay only lip service of vassalage, without inconvenience to their own interests and agendas; now, Manuel had made it all too clear that he was the ultimate master of the fates of the Outremer, and that the Franks were supposed to be his attendants, or, worse even, his underlings.
     
    63. The Alliance Between the Lords of Syria (1171 - 1173 A.D.)
  • 63. THE ALLIANCE BETWEEN THE LORDS OF SYRIA (1171 - 1173 A.D.)



    Robert.jpg


    Effigy depicting Duke Robert of Emèse, in the Church of Saint Peter of Dreux (c. 1280s). Being a non-contemporary piece, it does not actually depicts Robert's likeness - unlike the effigy of the Cathedral of Emèse -, but the most unusual aspect of the portrayal is that it emphasizes his role as a Crusader, him being depicted with sword and chainmail, and crown-less, not unlike a lowly knight. The leonine figure at his feet likely evokes Oriental exoticism associated with the memory of the Crusades in the Occident; in folk legends related to the Crusades, the meeting or the battle between the pious Christian knight and the noble lion is a common motif.


    Of the Character and of the Aspirations of Robert of Dreux in Syria


    In scholarly circles dedicated to the historiography of the Crusades, there is some debate to ascertain the causes of the decision of Robert Capet of remaining in Syria, to effectively exercise his position as Duke of Emèse, instead of returning to France, where he had lived most of his life. Indeed, ever since the establishment of this Crusader fief, during the *Second Crusade, he, then twenty years of age, had, by all means, abandoned it to its own devices under the rulership of his vassals, chief among them the Norman Montforts, who had distinguished themselves during the war in Armenia.

    Commentary from the primary sources usually attribute to Robert the general purposes of the Crusadist conduct: the yearning to live and die in the land where Christ had lived and died, the dedication to spiritual growth and, of course, the pious devotion to the war against the enemies of the faith. While we have no reason to doubt that these motives existed and were genuine, as were to many other Crusaders that preceded him, more mundane motivations are ignored by these sources, and they have kindled the curiosity of modern-day academics. It has been suggested that the root causes were in fact his worldly ambitions and his desire for renown and preeminence among the princes of Christendom, in face of his self-perceived failure to obtain noteworthy achievements in his homeland of France.

    In point of fact, it seems that his relation with his elder brother, King *Phillip II of France, then already known by the infamous sobriquet of “the Wrathful” due to his irascible demeanor, played a significant role in this decision. The French monarch, howbeit reverential to his dynasty, which he sought to aggrandize by placing his kinsmen in prestigious and relevant positions of political, ecclesiastical or diplomatic interest, harbored little fraternal love to his brothers; they were his vassals first, and siblings second. In the case of Robert, the County of Dreux was an appanage granted by Phillip in accordance to the dying wishes of their late father, Louis VI, but then, over the years, Phillip demonstrated no particular favor towards Robert. The latter became bitter and disappointed over the years in regards to the lack of expected favoritism that he ought to receive being the King’s brother. Indeed Robert had accumulated a substantial allodial patrimony by marriage, most notably after he married Agnes of Baudemont, who held in suo jure various fiefs in the region of northwestern Champagne, but he had nonetheless expected grants from his liege, notably the lordships and castles in the regions of Montfort and Évreux, and then of the Vexin and Mortain, all of which were disputed in the wars of the French King with the Norman Kings of England.

    Given the circumstances, we can infer that, now in advanced age, Robert, festering with resentment, overturned his perspectives and expectations, and decided that being a great lord in the Outremer would garner him greater reputation and esteem than being a lowly vassal of the ungrateful King of France.

    It does not seem that coming to establish residence in Syria was Robert’s original intent when he came to the Outremer in the trucial pilgrimage, but one that emerged and grew during his stay. His wife Agnes returned to France in 1170, but in the same year she delegated the administration of all her fiefs to her elder son Robert (II); two years later, she went again to the Holy Land and would thus never return to Europe. Considering that their son had no will to leave France, Robert Capet partitioned his inheritance already in 1175 A.D., provisioning in his testament that their firstborn son Robert and his respective heirs would inherit all the properties and titles in France, while the second-born son, Henry of Dreux, would receive the whole of the Syrian inheritance. Considering that, at the time, Robert the younger was already married, but Henry was not, the latter’s designated successor was Robert Capet’s youngest son, John, who was then aged six years. Henry was betrothed to Alicia of Savoy, daughter of Count Humbert III of Savoy, as early as 1171, in spite of the fact that she was, at the time, 5 years-old.


    ******​

    Emèse, sometimes called “La Chamelle[1] was, herself, an impressive metropolis, rivaling, in size and prosperity, Aleppo and Antioch, all of them paling only to Damascus. Like other cities of the Levant, it existed since time immemorial, having been founded by Aram, grandson of Noah by his son Shem [2]; she grew under the reign and the heirs of Sampsiceramus but saw its apogee after it was incorporated into the Roman Empire. It was, in fact, during the twilight years of the Roman Era that the Christian faithful received the revelation of the head of John the Baptist, found concealed in a holy grave; the Arabs a couple centuries took it to Damascus, where it remains to this day in the appropriately named Basilica of Saint John the Baptist [3].

    During the Crusader Era, it seemed fated to be reduced to a shadow of its former self, having suffered through consecutive generations of warfare and rapine and declining commerce and tourism. Even worse, then, it suffered a severe earthquake in 1157, which demolished many of its buildings and of neighboring cities and towns. When an even more devastating earthquake happened a mere thirteen years later, in 1170, one so massive that was felt from Antioch to as far as Balbec, it seemed like a divine coup de grace against the beleaguered urban center, whose various districts were levelled. When Robert did visit the seat of the duchy for the first time, it was a veritable ruin.

    Reconstruction of Emèse and other large settlements such as Ramât [Syr. Hama] and Chayzèr [Syr. Shayzar] began immediately, and, unsurprisingly, it was undertaken according to the urbanistic and architectural patterns adopted in France, but using the materials available in the region. As it was the norm in the Outremer, stone was plentiful for masonry, as was clay to make bricks and mortar, but for woodwork the builders brought cedar from the mountains of Phoenicia. Unlike in Europe, slave workforce was readily available and abundant, and thus hundreds of Saracen and Turcoman captives were employed over the following years to undertake the physical labors, overseen by Christian Syrian ruasa [4] or Armenian captains subordinate to the Frankish bailiffs or provosts, and thus the destroyed cities were rapidly rebuilt in the very own image of the French ones. During Robert’s reign, immigrants from France, especially from the regions of Champagne and Anjou, and also from Italy, would be encouraged to settle in Emèse, and their descendants will constitute a significant part of the Latin-Levantine demographics [5].

    It did help Emèse the fact that it was situated in a privileged geographic and climatic position; in a fertile plain near the Orontes valley, whose agricultural fields were supported by an aged but reliable irrigation system, the regional farms were dedicated to the production of wheat, millet, cotton and exotic fruits, all of which had substantial value in the European markets; the city itself produced many handicrafts, from jewelry to textiles, all of which became treasured exports to France and Italy as well.


    ******​


    Robert of Emèse was deeply proud of his heritage; a scion of the kings who had inherited the Carolingian oriflamme. Moved by tremendous ambition, he would endeavor to accrue prestige and wealth to his principality in the Orient, and to leave his own mark of grandeur in History.

    His political ambitions were manifested not long after he became resident in Emèse. Ever since he arrived, he witnessed Archbishop Bernard’s downfall, Manuel’s invasion and the resultant destitution of the Bohemondines, and the establishment of a Rhõmaîon government in Tyre. These latter events created a seething dissatisfaction and resentment among many of the Frankish nobles, especially because they came to perceive Prince Raymond III of Jerusalem and Galilee as a subservient and weak lackey of the Greek Emperor instead of the champion of the Latin cause that he was supposed to be. They feared even that Manuel was about to dethrone and expel the Frankish lords from the Outremer; indeed, regardless of the fact that Bohemond II of Tyre had been formally accused and condemned by a court years before was seemingly irrelevant, because to most of the Franks, Manuel was regarded as a tyrant and imperious monarch.

    It was in this scenario of disaccord that Robert saw the perfect opportunity to rise into prominence; his dynastic pedigree, his wealth and his personal charisma were tools that allowed him to easily ascend to the apex of the Latin-Levantine political preserve, as an active member of the Court of Grandees, not to little chagrin of some members of the established Frankish nobility - those that the French chroniclers at the time derisively called poulains or pulani - who saw him as an opportunistic adventurer. Soon enough it became clear, at least to Raymond and his own associates, that Robert had designs towards the princely throne, and the animosity between them and the nobles of Emèse grew immediately. What they did not fathom is that this was just the beginning of his stairway to even grander majesty.

    Now, in among the disaffected nobles of Syria, that is of Damascus and the Damascanese and the Houran, Robert found natural allies, opposed as they were to Raymond and the Franks established in Palestine. Robert realized that they seemed to believe that Raymond had accepted a genuine vassalage towards Constantinople, to his benefit only, and in detriment of the God-given mission of vanquishing the infidel, and also feared that the Rhômaîoi, now too close for comfort in the newly created “Catepanate of Syria”, were about to impose direct imperial rule over the Crusader State. The Italo-Normans, in particular, bitterly remembered that the same name of “Catepan” had been used to refer to the Emperor’s lieutenant in southern Italy, and were grimly suspicious that Rhomaîoi desired to conquer Syria from them.

    As for Raymond, it seems that he, truth be said, was regarded by Robert himself as a lesser evil; his conduct in the war against the Bohemondines had demonstrated an unassertive character and timid demeanor, and his conduct in the future war against the Saracens in Egypt would be a testament to this perceived pusillanimity. However, his favorites with whom he shared the temporal power in the Crusader State, namely the Counts of Tiberias and Acre, the Viceduke in Transjordania and the Marquis of Tortosa, all constituted a formidable network of alliances. More concerning even, especially to the rulers of Damascus and the other lords of the Damascanese, was the fact that the Templarians, under the tenancy of Gerard of Aigremont, had demonstrated a clear political affinity towards the Provençals.

    It seems, then, that as early as 1171 A.D., Emèse initiated rapprochement with Damascus, but there are no extant documents describing it, so it ought to have been an informal agreement. This friendship of convenience became a alliance once Robert brokered a marriage contract between Mabel of Damascus and Simon [III] of Montfort, thus uniting Emèse and Damascus.

    In any event, Robert also made overtures to the Rhõmaîon Emperor: in early 1172 A.D., he himself voyaged to Constantinople from Emèse - supposedly to undertake pilgrimage and to become acquainted with the “queen of cities”, with a small retinue of nobles, but whose actual purposes were diplomatic and political rather than religious: to introduce the French prince to the Emperor. There, according to the chronicle of Niketas Choniates, Robert was received with honors in the imperial court, befitting his standing as a royal prince of the Franks, and to his position as Duke. Cognizant of the performative role of the ceremonies, he formally paid homage to Manuel, and pledged his undying support to the cause of Christ in the Holy Land.

    Robert knew all too well that he needed recognition from the established potentates of the Orient; and, to Manuel, he wanted to be regarded as a friendly and compliant Latin-Levantine peer. It seems that his charismatic presence did garner him approval from the Basileus, and he was formally confirmed in his capacity as the suzerain lord of Emèse and the associated demesne. It was in this very encounter that Robert was gifted with a reliquary vial, covered in enamel, gold and ivory, supposedly containing the milk of the Virgin Mary, one that, a few generations later, would be gifted by one of Robert’s successors in Emèse to the King of France.


    Of the Creation of the Catepanate of Syria


    As it happened, after the Tyrian War, the political situation of Damascus was a bizarre one: Count Roger [II], still a minor, had been brought to Constantinople to be educated in statecraft and liberal arts - a figment of diplomatic rhetoric that barely disguised the fact that he was a hostage with various other Frankish scions -, and while the Countess dowager Mabel remained in Damascus, having received the Basileus’ pardon because she did not raise arms against the Emperor when he came to the Orient, the regency and actual government of Damascus had been entrusted by Manuel to his nephew, Andronikos Kontostephanos, one of his most loyal agents. Indeed, Damascus, being the largest and wealthiest metropolis of Syria, was highly regarded, and Manuel hoped, with this expedient, to directly interfere in the local Syrian politics, so as to keep the Franks at bay, and, perhaps, to enforce their terms of vassalage to his own imperial person. However, it must be said that, while more recent historiography rejects the premise that Manuel was masterminding a plan to abrogate the political rule of the Crusader State, there is a certain consensus that he intended to compel the Franks to join him in yet another campaign against the Fāṭimids in Egypt, and thus, it was convenient to have administrative, logistical and naval bases from whence to launch this new campaign.

    Now, Andronikos, who held the title of Megas Doux - the commander-in-chief of the imperial navy - was an accomplished commander, with an extensive military record, but had a much less impressive administrative acumen, and did not seem to be up to the task, even more so due to the antipathy of the Frankish elite ruling in Syria. While he had previously acted as governor of Hellas, the Peloponnese and Crete, administering a far-away province inhabited by a multi-ethnic and even multi-confessional populace was another task altogether, and, to be fair, he did not seem to care much about it. Even Niketas Choniates, who usually depicts him as a heroic personage dedicated to the defense of the imperial honor and dignity, records that the Patriarch of Antioch transmitted to Constantinople some complaints about Andronikos erratic composure during the years of 1172 and 1174 A.D., involving corruption and debauchery. Oddly enough, the contemporary Frankish sources scantly mention his presence, but they do give attention to the fact that, as per the Basileus’ will, Andronikos had positioned himself in Damascus with a bodyguard of Turkoman mercenaries, widely renowned for their savagery and bellicosity, and who routinely preyed upon the locals. Another Frankish source, writing two centuries ahead, however, attests the existence of a folk tale among the rural population that describes the Countess dowager Mabel seducing the Greek lieutenant named “Drurios” and convincing him, now maddened by passion, to march against Babylon to obtain the diadem of the Babylonian queen, a folly which results in his untimely death. Perhaps this legend arose from the circumstance that Mabel, in spite of her demotion, remained active in Damascus and in the Outremerine politics as a whole, and left her mark in the local consciousness during her rule over Damascus.

    As for Andronikos, his premature death in 1174 A.D., while he was preparing for the Egyptian campaign, aroused Manuel’s suspicions of treachery against the Franks, but he soon quelled his wrath, once he found out that Andronikos’ death, while caused by foul act, owed no relation to the Franks, but rather to the hand of a Syrian young woman against which the Greek general had attempted to force himself. To his malicious advance she responded by stabbing his throat. She would never be found, but the infuriated Turkoman horsemen, when they found out about the murder, exacted revenge upon the hapless Damascene citizens with bloody furor, until some sworn-brothers of the Knights of Saint Michael, in patrol from a nearby tower, retaliated against them. The engagements lasted for two whole days, until Mabel, having gathered a small army of Norman knights, fell upon the Turks while they feasted in the comital palace and contained them after a brief slaughter.

    Out of necessity, a dispirited Manuel granted the rulership of Damascus and the command of Kontostephanos’ dispersed soldiers to Andronikos Dalassenos Rogerios, the Catepan of Syria, who would then lead the campaign against the Fāṭimids in 1174 A.D.

    Established in Tyre, the newly-created “Catepanate of Syria” was Constantinople’s latest attempt of political-administrative growth, inspired in the defunct Catepanate of Italy - a gubernatorial unit, smaller than a Theme, headed by a “Catepan” [Gre. Katépanõ], who held absolute administrative and military powers and under the immediate authority of the Emperor - and, from its very beginnings, it aroused the indignation of some of the Franks, especially those in Syria. Of Bohemond’s knights and bailiffs, either Normans and Lombards, only a few remained in the County of Tyre, for most of them preferred to profess fealty to other lords, chief among them being those of Tripoli and of Emèse.

    Ostensibly to maintain order in the region and to protect the Jerusalemite holy places, the Catepan commanded a standing army of fifteen hundred spear-men and five hundred archers, likely from the various subject races of the Empire, such as the Greeks, the Bulgarians and the Pechenegs, among others; the Frankish sources usually give more attention to the presence of Turkish soldiers, who, despite having converted to Christianity and adopting the Greek customs and dress, still went to battle using the same tactics that their savage forefathers used, and came to settle, during this period, in the environs of Tyre and of Damascus by imperial decree.

    We know today that this Catepanate of Syria would to be short-lived, not in the least because of the hostility and antipathy of the native Franks to the Rhõmaîon presence in the Outremer, but, in the following years, it would play an important role in Manuel’s imminent war into Egypt.


    Of the Marriage between Damascus and Emèse


    In 1172 A.D. Mabel of Damascus married Simon of Montfort, the most formidable vassal of Emèse, a match arranged by none other than Duke Robert himself. That Simon was many years her senior and that both of them had sons of their own to succeed in their respective realms was irrelevant to Robert, who desired, above all, to associate Damascus to Emèse, and form a bloc of alliance able to oppose that of the Provençals.

    In spite of the fact that Mabel had fallen from grace, she still enjoyed the loyalty and respect of the knights of Damascus, and held greater legitimacy towards the rule over the fief than the Greeks - at least according to the Frankish perspective. While no source mentions it clearly, it is apparent that Robert, from that year onward, endeavored to restore Mabel to power, likely expecting to secure his own influence over Damascus, in detriment to that of the Greeks.

    As for Simon, his family had, ever since their departure from France, substantially increased their fortunes. After the *Second Crusade he had relinquished his ancestral property in Montfort-l’Amaury to King *Phillip II of France, and abdicated of Évreux in favor of his son Amaury [III] - an act that sought to solve the uncomfortable feudal situation that the Montforts saw themselves, being vassals to both the King of France and the King of England (in his capacity as Duke of Normandy), but, in time, would serve to foster further conflict between the two crowned princes, because Phillip II claimed Évreux to himself after Amaury received fiefs in England [6] - in exchange for being placed by King Phillip as the regent of Emèse. And Simon did benefit from his new position in Outremer; the money-fiefs of the fertile provinces of Gravanssour and Ioannine [7] gave him plentiful revenues from the land but he had long since realized that, in the Orient, money came mainly from trade, and he then erected towers and placed his knights to exact tolls from the pilgrims and merchants, and also taxed important industries and productions such as salt, marble and cotton.

    Duke Robert, in reward for his service, granted to Simon the office of Seneschal hereditarily and in perpetuity and gave his family the most privileged position in Emèse, and, accordingly, they would rise even more into prominence among the noble families of the Outremer.

    With the benefit of hindsight, we now know that this alliance between Emèse and Damascus, soon to be joined by other Frankish nobles dissatisfied with the current situation, would fundamentally change the balance of power in the Outremer, and, at last, pave the way for the future formation of the Crusader Kingdom of Syria under the Capetians.


    In the next chapter: The Byzantines and the Franks of the Outremer will invade Fatimid Egypt again. Can they succeed this time?

    ___________________________________________________________

    Notes:
    [1] "La Chamelle" is an historical name for Homs, likely owing to the fact that the promontory where its historical citadel was constructed made it appear like the hump of a camel from those viewing her from far away.
    [2] In-universe, due to the ecclesiastic influence in western historiography, Biblical narratives are commonly used as authoritative historical sources.
    [3] The cathedral is in fact the (extant) Umayyad Mosque of Homs, itself adapted from an ancient Christian basilica dedicated to Saint John the Baptist, revered in both Christianity and Islam.
    [4] "Ruasa" is the plural of "ra'is", which, in the context of the Frankish Outremer, are local leaders - usually Muslim, but sometimes they refer to Syrian Christians as well - who are co-opted as provincial agents of the Frankish elite over the native Palestinian and Syrian populations.
    [5] The immigration of French people to Syria will probably be detailed in a future installment.
    [6] This is a significant divergence in relation to OTL, where the Montforts kept both fiefs, and remained vassals to both the Kings of France and of England, and they eventually banded to the side of England during the reign of King Henry II - Simon IV of Montfort would later on marry into the Anglo-Norman aristocracy, becoming Earl of Leicester. ITTL, they effectively surrender all their French fiefs to King Phillip, thus enlarging the French royal demesne, but a dispute will arise from the inheritance over the Norman fief of Évreux, which will be claimed by Phillip as well.
    [7] Ioannine is OTL As-Salamiya; in-TL, the Crusaders believe that the name of the city is an homage to the Biblical figure Salome, granddaughter of Herod the Great, who, in the gospels, is responsible for the execution of John the Baptist. For this reason, the Franks changed the name of the city to homage John the Baptist instead.

    Comment: This chapter, as you might have realized, is dedicated to fleshing out a character who is poised to play a more significant role in the TL, Count Robert I of Dreux. He's a mildly interesting, if fairly obscure character IOTL, who apparently even attempted to usurp the royal throne from Louis VII of France. We don't know a lot about him, but he was the progenitor of the future ducal house of Brittany, and his sons held important ecclesiastical offices (such as Henry of Dreux, mentioned in this chapter, who was historically one Bishop of Orleans); he and his successors seem to have been ambitious and were interested in the dynastic game of thrones in Medieval France, so I hope to be doing them some justice in this fictional narrative.

    I had some doubts about the direction I was taking the narrative, so, after sketching some scenarios, this was the one I found the most interesting to explore, in which a scion of the royal house of France becomes a monarch in the Outremer - unlike what happened IOTL, in which the historical Kingdom of Jerusalem was governed by a series of ducal and comital-level dynasties, such as the Angevins and the Lusignans - and, thus, we can expect they will have significant political and diplomatic connections to their kingdom and to the other royal houses of Europe. Let's see how this will play out.
     
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