Crusades [9] 9781409402862, 9781315271583

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Edited by Benjamin Z. Kedar, Jonathan Riley-Smith and Jonathan Phillips with William J. Purkis

Crusades covers seven hundred years from the First Crusade (1095–1102) to the fall of Malta (1798) and draws together scholars working on theatres of war, their home fronts and settlements from the Baltic to Africa and from Spain to the Near East and on theology, law, literature, art, numismatics and economic, social, political and military history.

The editors are Professor B.Z. Kedar of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Professor J.S.C. Riley-Smith of the University of Cambridge, Professor Jonathan Phillips of Royal Holloway, University of London, together with Dr William J. Purkis of the University of Birmingham as associate editor.

Volume 9 • 2010

Ashgate publishes this journal for The Society for the Study of the Crusades and the Latin East. Particular attention is given to the publication of historical sources in all relevant languages – narrative, homiletic and documentary – in trustworthy editions, but studies and interpretative essays are welcomed too. Crusades also incorporates the Society’s Bulletin.

Crusades

Crusades

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crusades volume 9  •  2010

For subscriptions or information about this journal please email [email protected] ISSN: 1476-5276

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Published by Ashgate for the Society for the Study of the Crusades and the Latin East

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Crusades Volume 9, 2010

Crusades Edited by Benjamin Z. Kedar, Jonathan S.C. Riley-Smith and Jonathan Phillips with William J. Purkis Editorial Board Benjamin Z. Kedar (Editor; Hebrew University, Jerusalem, Israel) Jonathan Riley-Smith (Editor; University of Cambridge, U.K.) Jonathan Phillips (Editor; Royal Holloway, University of London, U.K.) William J. Purkis (Associate Editor; University of Birmingham, U.K.) Christoph T. Maier (Reviews Editor; University of Zurich, Switzerland) Denys Pringle (Archaeology Editor; University of Cardiff, U.K.) François-Olivier Touati (Bulletin Editor; Université François-Rabelais de Tours, France) Michel Balard (University of Paris I, France) James A. Brundage (University of Kansas, U.S.A.) Robert Cook (University of Virginia, U.S.A.) Jaroslav Folda (University of North Carolina, U.S.A.) Robert B.C. Huygens (University of Leiden, The Netherlands) David Jacoby (Hebrew University, Jerusalem, Israel) Kurt Villads Jensen (University of Southern Denmark, Odense, Denmark) Thomas F. Madden (Saint Louis University, U.S.A.) Catherine Otten (University of Strasbourg, France) Jean Richard (Institut de France) Crusades is published annually for the Society for the Study of the Crusades and the Latin East by Ashgate. A statement of the aims of the Society and details of membership can be found following the Bulletin at the end of the volume. Manuscripts should be sent to either of the Editors in accordance with the guidelines for submission of papers on p. 311. Subscriptions: Crusades (ISSN 1476–5276) is published annually. Subscriptions are available on an annual basis and are £65 for institutions and non-members, and £25 for members of the Society. Prices include postage by surface mail. Enquiries concerning members’ subscriptions should be addressed to the Treasurer, Professor James D. Ryan (see p. 232). All orders and enquiries should be addressed to: Subscription Department, Ashgate Publishing Ltd, Wey Court East, Union Road, Farnham, Surrey, GU9 7PT, U.K.; tel.: +44 (0)1252 331600; fax: +44 (0)1252 736736; email: [email protected] Requests for Permissions and Copying: requests should be addressed to the Publishers: Permissions Department, Ashgate Publishing Ltd, Wey Court East, Union Road, Farnham, Surrey, GU9 7PT, U.K.; tel.: +44 (0)1252 331600; fax: +44 (0)1252 736736; email: [email protected]. The journal is also registered in the U.S.A. with the Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers MA 01923, U.S.A.; tel.: +1 (978) 750 8400; fax: +1 (978) 750 4470; email: rreader@ copyright.com and in the U.K. with the Copyright Licensing Agency, 90 Tottenham Court Road, London, W1P 9HE; tel.: +44 (0)207 436 5931; fax: +44 (0)207 631 5500.

Crusades Volume 9, 2010

First published 2010 by Ashgate Publishing Published 2016 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017, USA Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business Copyright © 2010 by the Society for the Study of the Crusades and the Latin East All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. ISBN: 978-1-4094-0286-2 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-3152-7158-3 (ebk) ISSN 1476–5276 Typeset by N2productions The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of the American National Standard for Information Sciences – Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1984

CONTENTS Abbreviations

ix

Articles Orientalis Ecclesia: The Papal Schism of 1130 and the Latin Church of the Crusader States Miriam Rita Tessera

1

On the Books of Maccabees: An Unpublished Poem by Geoffrey, Prior of the Templum Domini Eyal Poleg

13

The Rabbinic Master Jacob Tam and Events of the Second Crusade at Reims Norman Golb Gerusalemme crociata e le immagini sacre: exempla, notazioni estetiche e accenti devozionali nelle fonti medievali Giuseppe Marella The Byzantines and Saladin: Opponents of the Third Crusade? Savvas Neocleous

57

69 87

New Perspectives on the Old French Continuations of William of Tyre Peter W. Edbury

107

Swicherio miles cividalese e le origini della Quinta crociata Bruno Figliuolo

115

A Diversion That Never Was: Thibaut IV of Champagne, Richard of Cornwall and Pope Gregory IX’s Crusading Plans for Constantinople, 1235–1239 Nikolaos G. Chrissis Mighty Towers and Feeble Walls: Ayyubid and Mamluk Fortifications in the Late Twelfth and Early Thirteenth Centuries in the Light of the Decline of Crusader Siege Warfare Kate Raphael John Pecham on the Crusade William C. Jordan 

123

147 159

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CONTENTs

The Fortunes of War: An Eleventh-Century Greek Liturgical Manuscript (Sinai gr 512) and Its History Andrew Jotischky

173

Reconstructing the Hospitaller Church of St. John, Acre, with the Help of Gravier d’Ortières’s Drawing of 1685–1687 Vardit Shotten-Hallel

185

Reviews Giles Constable, Crusaders and Crusading in the Twelfth Century (James A. Brundage) Robert Heś, Joannici na Śląsku wśredniowieczu [The Hospitallers in Silesia in the Middle Ages] (Darius von Güttner-Sporzyński) Natasha R. Hodgson, Women, Crusading and the Holy Land in Historical Narrative (Christoph T. Maier) Richard W. Kaeuper, Holy Warriors: The Religious Ideology of Chivalry (James M. Powell) Anthony Luttrell and Elizabeth A. Zachariadou, Sources for Turkish History in the Hospitallers’ Rhodian Archive 1389–1422 (Jonathan Riley-Smith) Laurence W. Marvin, The Occitan War: A Military and Political History of the Albigensian Crusade, 1209–1218; Mark Gregory Pegg, A Most Holy War: The Albigensian Crusade and the Battle for Christendom (Jessalynn Bird) Petrus de Dusburgk, Chronica terrae Prussiae, ed. Jarosław Wenta and Sławomir Wyszomirski (Darius von Güttner-Sporzyński) Simon Phillips, The Prior of the Knights Hospitaller in Late Medieval England (Gregory O’Malley) Prier et combattre: Dictonnaire européen des ordres militaires au Moyen Âge, ed. Nicole Bériou and Philippe Josserand, with preface by Anthony Luttrell and historiographical introduction by Alain Demurger (Christoph T. Maier) Denys Pringle, The Churches of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem: A Corpus. Volume IV: The Cities of Acre and Tyre with Addenda and Corrigenda to Volumes I–III (Adrian J. Boas) Projets de Croisade (v. 1290–v. 1330), ed. Jacques Paviot (Helen J. Nicholson) Teresa Shawcross, The Chronicle of Morea: Historiography in Crusader Greece (Christopher Wright) Marek Smoliński, Joanni w polityce książąt polskich i pomorskich. Od połowy XII do pierwszego ćwierćwiecza XIV wieku [The Hospitallers and Their Involvement in the Politics of Rulers of Poland and Pomerania. 1150–1315] (Darius von Güttner-Sporzyński)

199 200 202 205 206

208 213 215

217 218 221 223

225

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Short Notices David Jacoby, Latins, Greeks and Muslims: Encounters in the Eastern

227 311 313

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Abbreviations Albert of Aachen, Historia Ierosolimitana. History of the Journey to Jerusalem, ed. and trans. Susan B. Edgington. Oxford, 2007 AOL Archives de l’Orient latin Autour Autour de la Première Croisade. Actes du colloque de la Society for the Study of the Crusades and the Latin East: Clermont-Ferrand, 22–25 juin 1995, ed. Michel Balard. Paris, 1996 Cart Hosp Cartulaire général de l’ordre des Hospitaliers de Saint-Jean de Jérusalem, 1100–1310, ed. Joseph Delaville Le Roulx. 4 vols. Paris, 1884–1906 Cart St Sép Le Cartulaire du chapitre du Saint-Sépulcre de Jérusalem, ed. Geneviève Bresc-Bautier, Documents relatifs à l’histoire des croisades 15. Paris, 1984 Cart Tem Cartulaire général de l’ordre du Temple 1119?–1150. Recueil des chartes et des bulles relatives à l’ordre du Temple, ed. Guigue A.M.J.A., (marquis) d’Albon. Paris, 1913 CCCM Corpus Christianorum. Continuatio Mediaevalis Chartes Josaphat Chartes de la Terre Sainte provenant de l’abbaye de NotreDame de Josaphat, ed. Henri F. Delaborde, Bibliothèque des Écoles françaises d’Athènes et de Rome 19. Paris, 1880 Clermont From Clermont to Jerusalem: The Crusades and Crusader Societies 1095–1500. Selected Proceedings of the International Medieval Congress, University of Leeds, 10–13 July 1995, ed. Alan V. Murray. International Medieval Research 3. Turnhout, 1998 Crusade Sources The Crusades and their Sources: Essays Presented to Bernard Hamilton, ed. John France and William G. Zajac. Aldershot, 1998 CS Crusade and Settlement: Papers read at the First Conference of the Society for the Study of the Crusades and the Latin East and Presented to R.C. Smail, ed. Peter W. Edbury. Cardiff, 1985 CSEL Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum EC, 1 The Experience of Crusading 1: Western Approaches, ed. Marcus G. Bull and Norman J. Housley. Cambridge, 2003 EC, 2 The Experience of Crusading 2: Defining the Crusader Kingdom, ed. Peter W. Edbury and Jonathan P. Phillips. Cambridge, 2003 AA



ix



abbreviations

Fulcher of Chartres, Historia Hierosolymitana (1095–1127), ed. Heinrich Hagenmeyer. Heidelberg, 1913 GF Gesta Francorum et aliorum Hierosolimitanorum, ed. and trans. Rosalind M.T. Hill and Roger Mynors. London, 1962 GN Guibert of Nogent, Dei gesta per Francos, ed. Robert B.C. Huygens CCCM 127A. Turnhout, 1996 Horns The Horns of Hattin, ed. Benjamin Z. Kedar. Jerusalem and London, 1992 Kreuzfahrerstaaten Die Kreuzfahrerstaaten als multikulturelle Gesellschaft. Einwanderer und Minderheiten im 12. und 13. Jahrhundert, ed. Hans Eberhard Mayer with Elisabeth Müller-Luckner. Schriften des Historischen Kollegs, Kolloquien 37. Munich, 1997 Mansi. Concilia Giovanni D. Mansi, Sacrorum conciliorum nova et amplissima collectio MGH Monumenta Germaniae Historica MO, 1 The Military Orders: Fighting for the Faith and Caring for the Sick, ed. Malcolm Barber. Aldershot, 1994 MO, 2 The Military Orders, vol. 2: Welfare and Warfare, ed. Helen Nicholson. Aldershot, 1998 MO, 3 The Military Orders, vol. 3: History and Heritage, ed. Victor Mallia-Milanes. Aldershot, 2008 Montjoie Montjoie: Studies in Crusade History in Honour of Hans Eberhard Mayer, ed. Benjamin Z. Kedar, Jonathan RileySmith and Rudolf Hiestand. Aldershot, 1997 Outremer Outremer. Studies in the History of the Crusading Kingdom of Jerusalem Presented to Joshua Prawer, ed. Benjamin Z. Kedar, Hans E. Mayer and Raymond C. Smail. Jerusalem, 1982 PG Patrologia Graeca PL Patrologia Latina PPTS Palestine Pilgrims’ Text Society Library RHC Recueil des Historiens des Croisades   Darm   Documents arméniens   Lois   Les assises de Jérusalem   Oc   Historiens occidentaux   Or   Historiens orientaux RHGF Recueil des Historiens des Gaules et de la France RIS Rerum Italicarum Scriptores   NS   New Series ROL Revue de l’Orient latin RRH Reinhold Röhricht, comp., Regesta regni hierosolymitani. Innsbruck, 1893 FC



RRH Add RS Setton, Crusades SRG WT

abbreviations

xi

Reinhold Röhricht, comp., Additamentum. Innsbruck, 1904 Rolls Series A History of the Crusades, general editor Kenneth M. Setton, 2nd edn., 6 vols. Madison, 1969–89 Scriptores Rerum Germanicarum William of Tyre, Chronicon, ed. Robert B.C. Huygens, with Hans E. Mayer and Gerhard Rösch, CCCM 63–63A. Turnhout, 1986

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Orientalis Ecclesia: The Papal Schism of 1130 and the Latin Church of the Crusader States Miriam Rita Tessera Università Cattolica del Sacro Cuore di Milano [email protected] When the deep division among cardinals in February 1130 produced the dual, irregular, election of Gregory of St. Angelo as Innocent II and Peter Pierleoni as Anacletus II, the latter, thanks to his connections with Roman families, quickly gained control of Rome and compelled his rival to take refuge in France, where Innocent arrived in the subsequent August. Cardinals of both factions tried to publicize their own account of the disputed election to gain support all over the Christian world. One of their preferred instruments for this purpose was the position of the church established in the crusader states, that is the Orientalis ecclesia. On 11 May 1130, Innocent’s supporters wrote a rhetorical letter to Emperor Lothar III showing that their candidate had won the support of the entire Orientales et Occidentales ecclesiae, whilst Anacletus was only able to hide in his dark mansions of Rome. However, a fragmentary letter preserved at Montecassino in the so-called “register of Anacletus” (MS Cassinese 159) seems to demonstrate that Pierleoni looked to the crusader states for confirmation immediately after his election, in particular to the Latin kingdom and church of Jerusalem. Following his predecessors’ policy, and in particular Paschal II’s interpretation, the pope claimed This paper is based on a relevant chapter of my book, Orientalis Ecclesia. Papato, Chiesa e regno latino di Gerusalemme nel XII secolo (1099–1187) (Milan, 2010). My particular thanks are due to Professor Jean Richard, who encouraged me to write this essay, and to Jonathan Weatherill, who helped me with the English text.   For the papal schism of 1130, see Hans W. Klewitz, “Das Ende des Reformpapsttums,” Deutsches Archiv 3 (1939), pp. 371−412; Pier Fausto Palumbo, Lo Scisma del MCXXX. I precedenti, la vicenda romana e le ripercussioni europee della lotta tra Anacleto II e Innocenzo II col regesto degli atti di Anacleto II, Miscellanea della regia Deputazione di storia patria 13 (Rome, 1942); Franz J. Schmale, Studien zum Schisma des Jahres 1130, Forschungen zur kirchlichen Rechtsgeschichte und Kirchenrecht 3 (Köln-Graz, 1961); Pier Fausto Palumbo, “Nuovi studi (1942–1962) sullo scisma di Anacleto II,” Bullettino dell’Istituto storico italiano per il Medio Evo e Archivio Muratoriano 75 (1963), pp. 71−103; Luigi Pellegrini, “Osservazioni per la duplice elezione papale del 1130,” Aevum 39 (1965), pp. 45−65; idem, “La duplice elezione papale del 1130. I precedenti immediati e i protagonisti,” in Raccolta di studi in memoria di G. Soranzo (Milan, 1968), pp. 265−302; Werner Maleczek, “Das Kardinalskollegium unter Innocenz II. und Anaklet II.,” Archivum Historiae Pontificiae 19 (1981), pp. 27−78; Mary Stroll, The Jewish Pope: Ideology and Politics in the Papal Schism of 1130, Brill’s Studies in Intellectual History 8 (Leiden, New York and Köln, 1987).   “Udalrici Codex,” in Monumenta Bambergensia, ed. Philippus Jaffé (Berlin, 1869) no. 248, pp. 429−31: “Orientales et occidentales ecclesiae praedictum invasorem pari voto parique consensu unoque spiritu anathemate condempnant; dominum verum Innocentium papam, a catholicis catholice electum, catholice consecratum, sicut universalem patrem et beati Petri vicarium amplectuntur, venerantur suisque nuntiis frequentant.” 



Miriam Rita Tessera

that the Roman church was the main defender and patron of the Holy City since the conquest of Jerusalem in 1099. So he himself would engage in preserving and paying honour to the Latin church and kingdom. We do not know if this statement implied the confirmation of the royal title of Jerusalem, which Baldwin II obtained from Honorius II in 1128, and the subsequent supremacy of the church of Jerusalem over the see of Antioch (as Gilles of Toucy, cardinal of Tusculum, now sided with Anacletus, suggested during his legation to Antioch in the same year). In any case, both Innocent and Anacletus tried to use the Orientalis ecclesia to demonstrate the validity of their election according to Pope Pelagius I’s theory regarding the pre-eminence of the apostolic sees. In actual fact Pelagius had stated that, in case of dispute and schism within the Church, the judgment of the five apostolic sees (that is, Rome, Constantinople, Jerusalem, Antioch and Alexandria) was to be considered as conclusive in solving the question. Pierleoni’s situation, however, was strengthened by his favoured relationships with the church of southern Italy. In October 1130, Anacletus II wrote to John, the provost of St. Bertin, who was struggling against his archbishop, Rainald II of Reims, that he had received homage from Roger II. Pierleoni also stated that he was recognized as rightful pope by “all the archbishops and abbots of Apulia and Calabria” and that “the whole Orientalis ecclesia – that is Jerusalem, Antioch and Constantinople – sided with him.” On 25 February 1131, Pierleoni wrote to the people and clergy of France, Bourgogne, Aquitaine and Normandy to publicize the sentence of excommunication expressed against Innocent II and his party during the Council of Canosa (9 November 1130). In the same letter, Anacletus called for a Christendom-wide great council on 1 October 1131 at Rome and emphasized the presence of “all the Orientalis ecclesia” and the severe sentence pronounced at Canosa against his rival.   Anacletus, Epistolae et privilegia, PL 179:711 (Regesta pontificum Romanorum ab condita ecclesia ad annum post Christum natum MCXCVIII, ed. Philippus Jaffé and Samuel Loewenfeld, 2 vols. (Leipzig, 1885–88), no. 8393; hereafter cited as JL); Palumbo, Lo Scisma del MCXXX, no. 25, p. 660; idem, “La cancelleria di Anacleto II,” in Scritti di paleografia e diplomatica in onore di Vincenzo Federici (Florence, 1944), pp. 79−131; Herbert Bloch, “The Schism of Anacletus II and the Glanfeuil Forgeries of Peter the Deacon of Monte Cassino,” Traditio 8 (1952), pp. 159−264.   Rudolf Hiestand, Vorarbeiten zum Oriens Pontificius, III: Papsturkunden für Kirchen im Heiligen Lande, Abhandlungen der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Göttingen, Phil.-hist. Klasse III/136 (Göttingen, 1985), no. 32, pp. 141−42 (JL 7341; RRH, no. 122), dating the papal letter 29 May 1129 (but Fulk sailed in April 1129 at the latest: see Hans Eberhard Mayer, “The Succession to Baldwin II of Jerusalem: English Impact on the East,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 39 (1985), p. 143, n. 23). For Gilles of Tusculum, see Daniel Misonne, “Gilles de Toucy,” in Dictionnaire d’Historie et de Géographie ecclésiastiques (hereafter cited as DHGE), 20:1402−3; see also The Historia vie Hierosolimitane of Gilo of Paris, ed. C. W. Grocock and Elizabeth Siberry (Oxford, 1997).   Michele Maccarrone, “‘Fundamentum apostolicarum sedium.’ Persistenze e sviluppi dell’ecclesiologia di Pelagio I nell’Occidente latino tra i secoli XI e XII,” in idem, Romana Ecclesia cathedra Petri, I, Italia Sacra 48 (Rome, 1991), pp. 395−400.   Anacletus, Epistolae, PL 179:717−18 (JL 8413); Palumbo, Lo Scisma del MCXXX, no. 44, p. 666, and pp. 342−43 (where the addressee is specified).   Paul M. Baumgarten, “Ein Brief des Gegenpapstes Anaclet (II.),” Neues Archiv 22 (1897), pp. 576−78: “Notificamus dilectioni vestre, karissimi, de illis quondam fratribus, nunc autem sue matris



The Papal Schism of 1130 

The inclusion of Byzantium within the Orientalis ecclesia was a device used by Cardinal Cono of Preneste back in 1111, when the papal legate, shocked by the news about Pope Paschal II’s imprisonment by Henry V, chose to anathematize the emperor by means of councils held not only in Jerusalem and in Europe, but also in Constantinople. Cono clearly referred to Pelagius’s theory. Even if the Byzantine see was held by a Greek patriarch, Pelagius’s idea applied to the authority of the see in itself, and not to the rite of the actual patriarch. So it is possible that Anacletus II used this notion of Orientalis ecclesia and extended its meaning also to the Greek church established in southern Italy – as it had already been used during Pope Urban II’s tour in 1089 – in order to summon, for the planned council in Rome, a vast majority of clergy coming from Roger II’s lands and well disposed to condemn Innocent II. Anacletus’s scheme of 1130–31 regarding the Orientalis ecclesia was especially conceived to gain favour in the kingdom of France. Even though the pope numbered among his French supporters Archbishop Gerard of Angoulême, backed by the powerful William VI of Aquitaine, and Hildebert of Lavardin, the lettered bishop of Tours, between the autumn of 1130 and March 1131, Innocent II succeeded in strengthening his position thanks to the Council of Etampes and some successful meetings with Louis VI of France, Henry I of England and Emperor Lothar III.10 In 1130–31 the choice of the Orientalis ecclesia seemed the best way to overturn Pierleoni’s difficult situation. Recent historiography, based upon the report of the Council of Canosa, seems to consider that at first Jerusalem and Antioch sided et ecclesie catholice inimicis, qui a nobis exierunt et ad vos confugerunt, ut eos pro excommunicatis habeatis et nullatenus eis communicetis, siquidem iudicio sedis apostolice et totius orientalis ecclesie in concilio Canusino, quod ibi Deo auctore cum omni orientali ecclesia V idus novembris solemniter celebravimus, eos excommunicavimus, quippe qui canonice admoniti resipiscere noluerunt”; “Veniant igitur securi, veniant et ex nobis quicumque voluerint archiepiscopi, episcopi et alii, nosque faciemus orientalem ecclesiam ibidem convenire, et quidquid ibi virtute Spiritus Sancti universalis ecclesie sententia iuxta actionem cause fuerit diffinitum, nos absque ulla ambiguitate subibimus.”   For Cono of Praeneste, see Charles Dereine, “Conon de Préneste,” in DHGE 13:461−71; Rudolf Hiestand, “Legat, Kaiser und Basileus. Cuno von Praeneste und die Krise des Papsttums von 1111–1112,” in Aus Reichsgeschichte und Nordischer Geschichte. Festschrift Karl Jordan, ed. Horst Fuhrmann, Hans Eberhard Mayer and Klaus Wriedt (Stuttgart, 1972), pp. 141−52; Attilio Cadderi, Conone di Preneste: cardinale legato di Pasquale II, Gelasio II, Callisto II (?–1122), Collana di studi storici, religiosi, letterari 6 (Rome, 1974). For the implications of Pelagius’s theory, see Maccarrone, “Fundamentum,” pp. 397−99.   For the meaning of Orientalis ecclesia, see Paolo Tomea, “In merito al concetto di Apostolicae Sedes in Gerhoh di Reichersberg,” Aevum 49 (1975), pp. 91−93; Miriam R. Tessera, “Tra Oriente e Occidente: Guglielmo di Tiro, l’Europa e la nascita degli stati latini di oltremare,” in Studi sull’Europa medioevale. L’Europa di fronte all’Oriente cristiano tra alto e pieno Medioevo, ed. Annamaria Ambrosioni, Studi di Storia greca e romana 6 (Alessandria, 2001), pp. 112−13. For Urban II, see Alfons Becker, “Urbain II et l’Orient,” in Il concilio di Bari del 1098. Atti del Convegno storico internazionale e celebrazioni del IX Centenario del Concilio, ed. Salvatore Palese and Giancarlo Locatelli (Bari, 1999), p. 124. 10  Palumbo, Lo Scisma del MCXXX, pp. 324−44; Bloch, “The Schism of Anacletus II,” pp. 169−72; Aryeh Graboïs, “Le Schisme de 1130 et la France,” Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique 76 (1981), pp. 593−612.



Miriam Rita Tessera

with Anacletus II, because of the existing relationship between Pierleoni and Roger II, a redoubtable neighbour for the crusader states.11 However, Baldwin II of Jerusalem, who may have already received news regarding the papal schism in late spring 1130, had no interest in supporting someone whose candidacy might result in heavy interference in Antiochene internal affairs, as the connections with Sicily suggested. Bohemond II of Antioch was killed in battle in February 1130 and at the end of the summer, after the election of William of Messines as the new patriarch of Jerusalem, King Baldwin II travelled north to oversee the succession in the principality, where his daughter Alice had maintained the regency in the name of the little princess Constance. A decisive element in engaging the king and the Latin clergy of Jerusalem in Innocent’s favour was the influence of Bernard of Clairvaux, and his connections with the newborn Order of the Temple. Already committed to Innocent II’s defence, the abbot of Clairvaux had displayed personal acquaintance with both the late Patriarch Stephen and his successor William of Messines (who endowed Bernard with relics of the True Cross), as well as with the king of Jerusalem himself.12 Right at the outset of the papal schism Baldwin II made use of Bernard’s activity to help the development of the Templars in the East. Men like the Templars Andrew of Montbard, Bernard’s uncle, or Hugh of Troyes, former count of Champagne and Bernard’s close friend, allowed the abbot of Clairvaux’s propaganda to reach the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem.13 As for the Templars, their leading role is clear from the outcome of the Council of Pisa in 1135. During the assembly, Innocent II praised their activity during the papal schism and fostered a fraternitas between the poor knights of Christ and the bishops assembled there.14 Close relations with Bernard and with the Templar Order were also shown by Cardinal Matthew of Albano. The former prior of Cluny cooperated with the abbot of Clairvaux in ratifying the Templar rule during the Council of Troyes in 1129, and was one of the staunch allies of Bernard in the Roman curia at the outset of the papal

11  Rudolf Hiestand, “Antiochia, Sizilien und das Reich am Ende des 12. Jahrhunderts,” Quellen und Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken 73 (1993), p. 88 (stating that Bohemond II of Antioch was still living in summer 1130). 12  For Bernard and the patriarchs of Jerusalem, see Rudolf Hiestand, “Bernhard von Clairvaux, Norbert von Xanten und der lateinischen Osten,” in Vita religiosa im Mittelalter. Festschrift für Kaspar Elm zum 70. Geburtstag, ed. Franz J. Felten and Nikolas Jaspert (Berlin, 1999), p. 315; Simonetta Cerrini, La rivoluzione dei Templari. Una storia perduta del dodicesimo secolo (Milan, 2008), pp. 74−75. 13  Sancti Bernardi Vita et res gestae libri septem comprehensae, PL 185:316; Bernard of Clairvaux, Lettere, in idem, Opera, ed. Ferruccio Gastaldelli, VI/1–VI/2 (Milan, 1986), VI/1, no. 175, pp. 738−39; Hiestand, “Bernhard von Clairvaux,” pp. 304−8, 317−19. For Bernard and Hugh of Troyes, see also Cerrini, La rivoluzione dei Templari, pp. 64−65. 14  Dieter Girgensohn, “Das Pisaner Konzil von 1135 in der Überlieferung des Pisaner Konzils von 1409,” in Festschrift für Hermann Heimpel zum 70. Geburtstag am 19. September 1971 (Göttingen, 1972), pp. 1098−99; Cerrini, La rivoluzione dei Templari, pp. 160−61.



The Papal Schism of 1130 

schism.15 According to the Annales Reichersbergenses, written after 1166, “the sees of Antioch and Jerusalem rejected Pierleoni and approved Innocent because the latter had two of the three rightful ordinatores at his side, that is Cardinals Matthew of Albano and John of Ostia, while the former had only one, that is Peter of Porto.”16 Cluniacs also seem to have had great influence over the choice made by the Latin church of Jerusalem. In addition to Matthew of Albano’s position, additional evidence comes from the Epistola de schismate, written in December 1130 by Reimbald, canon of St. Lambert in Liège, to defend Gerard of Angoulême’s work. Reimbald ascribed the recent acceptance of Pope Innocent II in the Orientalis ecclesia to Cluniac propaganda. Indeed, in the same period, Cluny’s new abbot, Peter the Venerable, maintained friendly relationships with the church and the kingdom of Jerusalem.17 Moreover, the reference to Gerard of Angoulême’s firm support of Anacletus II is much more significant in this context. The archbishop’s choice had caused open rebellion in many local canonical communities, which were severely persecuted by Gerard himself. Amongst these, Fulcher, abbot of Cellefrouin, pretended to sail for the Holy Land causa orationis (that is, to pray there) to escape Gerard’s wrath, but on his arrival in Jerusalem he entered the chapter of the Holy Sepulchre and began a brilliant career in the East.18 Shortly after 1130 the kingdom of Jerusalem was considered to be a good shelter for Innocent II’s supporters. Consequently, we can conclude that in the same period the Latin church of Jerusalem – and the king too – quickly recognized Pope Innocent, offering him the spiritual and political authority originating from both the presence of the Holy Sepulchre and the old patriarchal see of Jerusalem.19 15  For Matthew of Albano’s role, see Rudolf Hiestand, “Kardinalbischof Matthäus von Albano, das Konzil von Troyes und die Entstehung des Templerordens,” Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte 99 (1988), pp. 295−325; Annamaria Ambrosioni, “Bernardo e il papato,” in Bernardo cistercense. Atti del XXVI Convegno storico internazionale. Todi, 8–11 ottobre 1989, Atti dei Convegni dell’Accademia Tudertina e del Centro di studi sulla spiritualità medievale, n.s. 3 (Spoleto, 1990), pp. 65−66; Stroll, The Jewish Pope, pp. 53−54. 16  Annales Reicherspergenses, MGH SS 17:454; Tomea, “In merito al concetto,” p. 93, n. 81. 17  Reimbald of Liège, Libellus de schismate anacletiano, in idem, Opera omnia, ed. Carolus de Clercq, CCCM 4 (Turnhout, 1966), pp. 117−21; (see Stroll, The Jewish Pope, pp. 176−77). Reimbald was interested in news coming from the Latin East; in 1119 he possibly wrote a complaint about Baldwin I’s death: Chronicon rythmicum Leodiense, in Reimbald, Opera, pp. 132−33, vv. 281−84. For Peter the Venerable’s letters, see The Letters of Peter the Venerable, ed. Giles Constable, 1 (Cambridge, Mass., 1967), nos. 82−83, pp. 219−20. 18  Hubert Claude, “Autour du schisme d’Anaclet: Saint Bernard et Girard d’Angoulême,” in Mélanges Saint Bernard (Dijon, 1954), pp. 80−94. For Fulcher, who witnessed at first as a canon of the Holy Sepulchre between 25 December 1133 and 31 August 1134 (RRH, no. 152): WT, p. 643; Charles Dereine, “Foucher,” in DHGE, 17:1255−57; Klaus-Peter Kirstein, Die lateinischen Patriarchen von Jerusalem. Von der Eroberung der Heiligen Stadt durch die Kreuzfahrer 1099 bis zum Ende der Kreuzfahrerstaaten 1291, Berliner Historische Studien 35 (Berlin, 2002), pp. 273−91. 19  As for the schism of 1130, William of Tyre expresses no clear reference to the position of the Orientalis ecclesia, focusing his interest on the division among cardinals: WT, pp. 642−43.



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Reference to the Hierosolymitana ecclesia among Anacletus’s supporters at Benevento in October 1130 derives from single members of the Latin clergy of Jerusalem who were in southern Italy by chance and whose presence was emphasized by Pierleoni in his letter.20 Indeed, during the papal schism of 1130 some religious crusader establishments in the Latin East received rich endowments in those territories controlled by Anacletus’s powerful ally, Roger II. For example, the abbey of St. Mary of Josaphat received many gifts in tithes and estates from the Norman nobility connected with the Aleramici family, that is the family of Adelaide del Vasto, Roger II’s mother. In 1126 and 1137 Roger himself supported the monks of Josaphat when they were involved in disputes over the properties of the abbey in southern Italy.21 It is therefore highly probable that envoys of Josaphat could not immediately recognize Innocent II, and were obliged to side with Anacletus before taking notice of the “official” position of the church and kingdom of Jerusalem. The case of the principality and the patriarchate of Antioch – openly mentioned by Pierleoni in his letter of October 1130 – is quite different. When Princess Alice of Antioch rebelled against her father Baldwin II in 1130 she was flanked by a consistent faction of her nobility; in contrast, however, the ecclesiastical hierarchy of the principality was deeply divided.22 Patriarch Bernard of Valence led the proJerusalem party and he was the man mostly responsible for summoning Baldwin II and for his subsequent regency in 1130–31. Thus it is possible that the Norman clergy who settled there after Bohemond II’s accession tried to overcome the patriarch’s position and sided with Alice, supporting her scheme because of the Antiochene clergy’s connections with Roger II. After an initial (and failed) negotiation with Zengi, the atabeg of Mosul, the princess turned quickly to Roger II – a solution she tried to repeat one year later, in September 1131, against the new king of Jerusalem, Fulk of Anjou.23 Alice had no scruples about using ecclesiastical tithes to finance her vassals against the kings of Jerusalem in 1130–32, as was the case in Jabala, which was part of her dowry. She also hindered the patriarch’s affairs in the region, as apparently shown by a papal privilege granted to Romanus, bishop of Jabala.24 On 27 May 1133, Innocent II confirmed to the bishop of Jabala all the possessions of his church that had originated from Bernard of Valence’s grants or from gifts disposed by 20 

See Maccarrone, “Fundamentum,” p. 397. Geneviève Bresc-Bautier, “Les possessions des églises de Terre-Sainte en Italie du Sud (Pouille, Calabre, Sicile),” in Roberto il Guiscardo e il suo tempo. Relazioni e comunicazioni nelle prime giornate normanno-sveve (Bari, maggio 1973) (Rome, 1975), pp. 17−25; Graham Loud, “Norman Italy and the Holy Land,” in Horns, pp. 51−59; Hans Eberhard Mayer, Bistümer, Klöster und Stifte im Königreich Jerusalem, MGH Schriften 26 (Stuttgart, 1977), pp. 311−14. 22  For Alice, see Thomas S. Asbridge, “Alice of Antioch: A Case Study of Female Power in the Twelfth Century,” in EC, 2, pp. 29−47. 23  For Bernard of Valence, see Bernard Hamilton, The Latin Church in the Crusader States: The Secular Church (London, 1986), pp. 21−30; Thomas S. Asbridge, The Creation of the Principality of Antioch, 1098–1130 (Woodbridge, 2000), pp. 200−213. 24  For the church of Jabala, see Hamilton, The Latin Church, p. 26; Hiestand, Vorarbeiten, pp. 75−76. 21 



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other nobles. But, as the papal chancery pointed out, Bernard’s grant had to be a canonica restitutio and other grants were recovered by the bishop after having been unlawfully alienated – as a matter of fact by the princess and her vassals.25 In his history, William of Tyre actually accused Alice of richly financing the nobles of her party, and again in 1145 Bishop Hugh of Jabala complained to the papal court that the princess had alienated the episcopal tithes of his see for herself.26 Links between Roger II’s court and the Antiochene clergy loyal to Alice clearly aided the princess’s scheme of governing her principality without any interference from Jerusalem. A case study is represented by Arnulf, the Calabrian archdeacon of Antioch who, after the end of the Antiochene crisis, played a leading role in the subsequent struggle against the new patriarch Ralph of Domfront and finally came back to southern Italy. Then, between 1141 and 1147, he was elected bishop of Cosenza with Roger II’s favour.27 Thus in October 1130 at Benevento, in the presence of Roger II, ecclesiastical envoys from Alice’s faction represented that “church of Antioch” mentioned by Pope Anacletus II, who seems to have been unaware of the deep political division existing in the principality. In any case, internal factions among the Antiochene clergy persisted as shown by the irregular election of patriarch Ralph of Domfront in late summer 1135 and the subsequent struggle against the cathedral chapter of Antioch.28 In September 1131, with Fulk of Anjou’s accession to the throne, the news that the kingdom and the church of Jerusalem had openly sided with Innocent II was well known all over the Christian world. Between June and October 1131 a letter written by Bernard of Clairvaux to the bishops of Aquitaine, in an attempt to persuade them to abandon Gerard of Angoulême, referred to “all the church of the East” (universa Orientalis ecclesia) and to other Western archbishops and bishops flanking Innocent’s party. One year later, Bernard of Clairvaux repeated the same argument to Geoffrey “Babio” of Loroux, a famous preacher who had not yet decided between the two rival popes.29 Thus, throughout the schism of 25  Hiestand, Vorarbeiten, no. 33, pp. 142−44 (JL 7627; RRH, no. 143), previously edited in Dino Puncuh, Liber privilegiorum ecclesiae Ianuensis, Fonti e studi di storia ecclesiastica 1 (Genoa, 1962), no. 112, pp. 153−54. The Genoese heading for this entry speaks of the church of Gibelet (Byblos), but Hiestand showed that the privilege concerns the church of Gibellum, that is Jabala (Gabula). 26  WT, pp. 624, 636, 639; Otto of Freising, Chronica de duabus civitatibus, ed. Adolf Hofmeister, MGH SS 45 (Hannover-Leipzig, 1912), pp. 364−65. 27  WT, p. 691; Norbert Kamp, “Der unteritalienische Episkopat im Spannungfeld zwischen monarchischer Kontrolle und römischer ’libertas’ von der Reichsgründung Rogers II. bis zum Konkordat von Benevent,” in Società, potere e popolo nell’età di Ruggero II. Atti delle terze giornate normannosveve. Bari, 23–25 maggio 1977 (Bari, 1979), p. 123, n. 89. 28  For Ralph of Domfront, see Bernard Hamilton, “Ralph of Domfront, Patriarch of Antioch (1135– 1140),” Nottingham Medieval Studies 28 (1984), pp. 1−21. 29  Bernard of Clairvaux, Lettere, VI/1, no. 126, pp. 578−601, here p. 592: “Taceo multitudinem ceterorum, Tusciae, Campaniae, Longobardiae, Germaniae et Aquitaniae, Galliarum denique et Hispaniarum omnium, necnon et universae Orientalis Ecclesiae, tam archiepiscoporum, quam episcoporum quorum nomina sunt in libro vite (Phil. 4:3), sed epistolae brevitas non admittit”; no. 125, pp. 574−77: “Alemanniae, Franciae, Angliae, Scotiae, Hispaniarum et Hierosolymorum reges, cum



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1130 Bernard was instrumental in creating and spreading the idea of the authority acknowledged to the Orientalis ecclesia. Later on, around 1138, he was also able to exploit it to solve the disputed position of the see of Tyre (between the patriarchates of Jerusalem and Antioch), to the advantage of the Roman primacy.30 Meanwhile, at the latest in autumn 1131, an official delegation left Jerusalem to bring to Innocent II the recognition of the Latin church of the crusader kingdom. On 2 February 1132 the pope wrote a joyful letter to his staunch ally, Louis VI of France, recounting that when he himself had arrived at Cluny a day before, he had found news from Patriarch William of Messines and Anselm, bishop of Bethlehem, a copy of which (unfortunately lost) he had sent to the king. In this letter, the Jerusalem clergy proclaimed obedience and submission to Innocent II.31 The pope’s success in gaining recognition from the Orientalis ecclesia also allowed him to employ this important instrument to solve the difficult situation the schism had created in northern Italy. Here, the pope had to confront the powerful alliance between Pierleoni and the commune of Milan, before he confronted Roger II’s firm position in southern Italy. In 1133, the kingdom of Jerusalem took part in the great attempt Innocent II made to reconcile Genoa and Pisa. The two rival towns were struggling for the supremacy in the Tyrrhenian Sea and had just concluded the treaty of Grosseto (20 March 1133, renewed on 25 May), thanks to Bernard of Clairvaux and Cardinal Aimery, chancellor of the Roman church.32 The oldest surviving copy of the Genoese Libri iurium, the so-called Vetustior (copied in the thirteenth century from a twelfth-century exemplar), preserves a puzzling universo clero et populis, favent et adhaerent domino Innocentio, tamquam filii patri, tamquam capiti membra, solliciti servare unitatem spiritus in vinculo pacis (Eph. 4:3).” 30  Bernard of Clairvaux, Lettere, VI/2, no. 392, pp. 508−12; no. 393, pp. 512−19. For Bernard’s role during the schism in France, see Elphèce Vacandard, “Saint Bernard et le schisme d’Anaclet II en France,” Revue des questions historiques 43 (1888), pp. 61−123; Jaqueline Bernard, “Bernard et le schisme d’Anaclet II,” in Papauté et épiscopat selon saint Bernard de Clairvaux (Saint-Lô, 1963), pp. 349−54; cf. Ambrosioni, “Bernardo e il papato,” pp. 71−75. 31  Luc D’Achery, Spicilegium sive Collectio veterum aliquot scriptorum qui in Galliae bibliothecis delituerant, 3 vols. (Paris, 1723, repr. Farnborough, 1967–68), 3:488 (JL 7531): “Sani, Deo gratias, et incolumes Kalendis Februarii Cluniacum pervenimus, ubi cum fratribus nostris, episcopis, abbatibus et aliis sapientibus et religiosis viris Purificationis beatae Mariae festivitatem solemniter et honorifice celebrantes, a fratribus nostris Guillelmo patriarcha Jerosolymitano, et A(nselmus) Bethlehemiticae civitatis episcopo, litteras obedientiae et subjectionis suscepimus. Quia igitur causam Ecclesiae cum omni constantia et fortitudine certis experimentis te nobiscum portare, et nostris prosperitatibus congaudere jamdudum agnovimus, earumdem litterarum transcripta serenitati tuae duximus transmittenda, ut quos nimirum tuae charitatis sinceritas sociabili foedere copulat, de prosperis quoque successibus nihilominus gratulentur” (same text edited in Mansi, Concilia, 21:401, and in RHGF 15:374). 32  For Genoa, Pisa and the papal schism, see Valeria Polonio, “San Bernardo, Genova e Pisa,” in San Bernardo e l’Italia. Atti del Convegno di studi, Milano, 24–26 maggio 1990, ed. Pietro Zerbi, Bibliotheca erudita 8 (Milano, 1993), pp. 69−99; Pietro Zerbi, “I rapporti di San Bernardo di Chiaravalle con i vescovi e le diocesi d’Italia,” in idem, Tra Milano e Cluny. Momenti di vita e cultura ecclesiastica nel secolo XII, Italia Sacra 28 (Rome, 1991), pp. 14−29; Maria Luisa Ceccarelli Lemut, “La sede metropolitana e primaziale di Pisa nei rapporti con i pontefici da Onorio II a Innocenzo II,” in Nel IX centenario della metropoli ecclesiastica di Pisa. Atti del Convegno di studi (7–8 maggio 1992), ed. Maria Luisa Ceccarelli Lemut and Stefano Sodi (Pisa, 1995), pp. 143−70.



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letter written in Pisa to Archbishop Siro of Genoa and the Genoese consuls by Baldwin, chancellor of King Fulk, and by Bernard Vacher, a prominent familiaris of the king of Jerusalem. The Jerusalem envoys warned the Genoese not to proceed in ratifying a treaty – the tenor of which was not explicitly mentioned – with their rivals from Pisa, because of the Pisan consuls’ opposition. Also, Baldwin and Bernard asked their correspondent to continue the effort involved in this mysterious task – where, they said, the Genoese had already earned honour and glory – and to send a complete account of the mission to the king and the patriarch of Jerusalem as soon as possible.33 This letter was written after 20 March 1133, when Bishop Siro of Genoa became archbishop by papal order to the detriment of the hostile church of Milan, and before spring 1134, the last possible sailing date to allow Bernard Vacher to be back in attendance on his king in that very autumn.34 Both Baldwin and Bernard were prominent people in the kingdom of Jerusalem. The former, already in office from 1130 under King Baldwin II, carried out many diplomatic missions and became archbishop of Caesarea in 1141/43. The latter was one of Baldwin II’s homines novi and expanded his influence at court especially after September 1134, having helped King Fulk against the native barons’ uprising and become his standard-bearer.35 Therefore the mission conveyed by Baldwin and Bernard could be the mirror of Innocent’s intense activity to create a wide network of alliances in order to make peace between Genoa and Pisa, thus preparing the pope’s travel throughout Italy with a strong support against Roger II and Anacletus II. The Jerusalem embassy, with its ideological halo of Orientalis ecclesia, intended to engage Genoa and Pisa to fight together against the Muslim expansion in the Latin East, as Baldwin and Bernard themselves wrote regarding the honor et gloria already earned by the Genoese people. Similar expressions referring to Genoese warriors had been used by Pope Innocent II in the above-mentioned privilege of 33  I Libri iurium della Repubblica di Genova, ed. Antonella Rovere (Genoa, 1992), no. 30, p. 48 (RRH, no. 153): “Ad responsa Pisanorum confusi sumus et sensus noster ebuit quia illud quod de illorum perfidia a vobis predictum fuerat, cum causas abreviati termini opponerent, continuo claruit. Mandamus itaque vobis ne diem termini observetis, quia, ut aiunt, vobiscum non possunt hoc tempore, renuentibus consulibus, federari. Rogamus autem ne vestri ardor propositi sopiatur, ne gloria vestra et honor quem iam super hoc negotio acquisistis aliquatinus obscuretur. Petimus etiam ut sicut ex nunc et deinceps nominis vestri famam curabimus predicare ita et vos domino patriarche et regi laborem nostrum et conversationem quam cicius poteritis vestris studeatis litteris intimare.” 34  For Siro’s primacy, see Polonio, “San Bernardo, Genova e Pisa,” pp. 84−85. Favreau-Lilie ascribed the letter to 1131–32, connecting the Jerusalem embassy with the devolution of the principality of Antioch to Raimond of Poitiers: Marie-Luise Favreau-Lilie, Die Italiener im Heiligen Land vom ersten Kreuzzug bis zum Tode Heinrichs von Champagne (1098–1197) (Amsterdam, 1989), pp. 156−57. 35  For Baldwin’s career, see Rudolf Hiestand, “Ein neuer Bericht über das Konzil von Antiochia 1140,” Annuarium Historiae Conciliorum 19 (1987), p. 345, n. 149; Hans Eberhard Mayer, Die Kanzlei der lateinischen Könige von Jerusalem, MGH Schriften 40 (Hanover, 1996), 1:48−49 (also FavreauLilie, Die Italiener, p. 156, n. 11). For Bernard Vacher, see WT, p. 683; Usama ibn Munqid, Le lezioni della vita. Un principe siriano e le Crociate, ed. Mirella Cassarino (Milan, 2001), p. 114; Hans Eberhard Mayer, “Angevins versus Normans: The New Men of King Fulk of Jerusalem,” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 133 (1989), pp. 13–14; cf. idem, Die Kanzlei, 2:854.

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27 May 1133 (two days after the renewal of the treaty of Grosseto), when the pope confirmed to Bishop Romanus of Jabala all the possessions belonging to his church. Retracing the origins of the church of Jabala back to the liberatio ecclesie model (Jabala had been under Muslim dominion for a long time, but now, according to God’s plan, it has been delivered from slavery), Innocent II especially mentioned the great fighting effort made by the Genoese in order to assure freedom and dignity to this church.36 Between the years 1133 and 1135 the church of Antioch actually depended on political choices made by the church and kingdom of Jerusalem; thus, King Fulk may have offered the renewal – or the extension – of the Genoese privileges in the principality of Antioch in exchange for military aid against Zengi.37 Papal involvement in securing privileges to the Italian communes at the eve of a military expedition in the Latin East was not a novelty. In 1120, sponsoring the so-called Venetian crusade, Pope Calixtus II assured the Venetians that he himself had obtained the confirmation of all the privileges granted to Venice in the principality of Antioch and in the kingdom of Jerusalem from King Baldwin II – who was also regent of Antioch, just as Fulk of Anjou was to be about ten years later.38 New tensions between Genoa and Pisa in 1134 caused the failure of Innocent II’s scheme and dissolved the involvement of Jerusalem without any advantage for the defence of the Holy Land. As Baldwin and Bernard outlined in their letter, the failure was ascribed to Pisa (but the Genoese also entered negotiations with Roger II, according to two worried letters by Bernard of Clairvaux).39 Not surprisingly, Fulk of Anjou immediately changed his policy towards the Pisans at the same time and possibly revoked all the privileges they had obtained in the city of Tyre and its surroundings.40 Nonetheless, Innocent II succeeded in obtaining the vast majority of consents and he summoned a great council at Pisa in late spring 1135 (30 May–6 June).41 During the solemn assembly the pope renewed excommunication against 36 

Hiestand, Vorarbeiten, no. 33, p. 143. Favreau-Lilie, Die Italiener, pp. 351−57. See also Michel Balard, “Communes italiennes, pouvoir et habitant des états francs de Syrie-Palestine au XIIe siècle,” in Crusaders and Muslims in TwelfthCentury Syria, ed. Maya Shatzmiller, The Medieval Mediterranean 1 (Leiden, 1993), pp. 43−64. 38  The involvement of the pope is clearly recorded in the so-called Pactum Warmundi between the patriarch of Jerusalem and Venice: see the new edition in Marco Pozza, “Venezia e il Regno di Gerusalemme dagli Svevi agli Angioini,” in I comuni italiani nel regno crociato di Gerusalemme, ed. Gabriella Airaldi and Benjamin Z. Kedar, Collana storica di fonti e studi 48 (Genoa, 1986), pp. 351−99, here p. 377; see also David Jacoby, “The Venetian Privileges in the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem: Twelfth and Thirteenth-Century Interpretations and Implementations,” in Montjoie, pp. 155−75. For the Venetian crusade, see Jonathan Riley-Smith, “The Venetian Crusade of 1122–1124,” in I comuni italiani, pp. 339−50. 39  Bernard of Clairvaux, Lettere, VI/1, no. 129, pp. 606−11; no. 130, pp. 612−14; cf. Erich Caspar, Ruggero II (1101–1154) e la fondazione della monarchia normanna di Sicilia (Rome and Bari, 1999), pp. 132−35. 40  Favreau-Lilie, Die Italiener, pp. 156−57. 41  For the Council of Pisa, see Robert Somerville, “The Council of Pisa 1135: A Re-examination of the Evidence for the Canons,” Speculum 45 (1970), pp. 98−114; Girgensohn, “Das Pisaner Konzil” (see n. 15). 37 



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Pierleoni and his supporters. Then he also extended the same remissio peccatorum given by Urban II to the first crusaders on their way of Jerusalem to military service against Roger II and Anacletus II in the name of the libertas ecclesie. Thus Innocent II extended the original meaning of the libertas ecclesie moulded by Gregory VII and the canonical background of the crusade to develop a new idea of crusading to support the papacy against its own enemies within the boundaries of the Christian world.42 After 1135 the role of Jerusalem and of the Orientalis ecclesia came to an end. A new dispute over the ecclesiastical province of Tyre and the challenge posed to the Roman supremacy by the new patriarch of Antioch, Ralph of Domfront, allowed the papacy to apply to its own advantage the supreme authority all the Christian world had now acknowledged. In any case, the Latin church of Jerusalem retained the strong tie with Rome created by the papal schism of 1130. On 18 October 1138, right at the end of the schism, Bishop Roger of Ramla dated a grant for St. Mary of Josaphat with the clause: “Romanam ecclesiam regente Innocentio papa.”43 As a matter of fact, in the final years of the papal schism Innocent II rewarded those ecclesiastical institutions of the Latin East which supported him during the difficult struggle against Anacletus II. First to be recognized was the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem. On 26 July 1138, the pope confirmed the way of life of the canons, based on the so-called Augustinian rule, and he established a comparison between the regularis militia of the canons and the secularis militia exercised by those knights vowed to defend Christ’s tomb with sword and shield. This privilege, renewed on 27 April 1139, specifically mentioned all the properties in southern Italy belonging to the Holy Sepulchre, which were threatened by Roger II.44 So, around 1138, thanks to its prominence even in the principality of Antioch (where the lasting regency of the kings of Jerusalem had allowed the canons to recover all the properties the Holy Sepulchre held there before the Turkish invasion in tempore Grecorum),45 the Holy Sepulchre gained royal favour and established itself as the richest and most powerful ecclesiastical institution of the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem. Great impulse was given to liturgy and to cultural life, with production of luxury manuscripts, such as the so-called “Queen Melisende’s psalter,” and engraved gold crosses containing precious relics of the True Cross.46 But the 42  Girgensohn, “Das Pisaner Konzil,” pp. 1099−1100; cf. Norman Housley, “Crusades against Christians: Their Origins and Early Development, c.1000–1216,” in CS, pp. 17−36. 43  Chartes Josaphat, no. 20 (RRH, no. 190, with a new dating in Mayer, Die Kanzlei, 2:858). 44  Hiestand, Vorarbeiten, no. 37, pp. 147−48 (JL 7907; RRH, no. 177); no. 39, pp. 150−52 (JL 8019; RRH, no. 189). See also Kaspar Elm, “Die ‘Vita Canonica’ der regulierten Chorherren vom Heiligen Grab in Jerusalem,” in La vie quotidienne des moines et chanoines réguliers au Moyen Age et Temps Modernes, ed. Marek Dervich (Breslau, 1995), pp. 181−92. 45  See, for example, Cart St Sép, no. 74 (RRH, no. 157, dated 2 August 1135), where Patriarch Bernard of Valence supported the canons of the Holy Sepulchre against the church of Antioch, a situation that mirrors the deep division of the Antiochene clergy. 46  For a full discussion of these topics, see Hugo Buchthal, Miniature Painting in the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem (Oxford, 1957); Jaroslav Folda, The Art of the Crusaders in the Holy Land, 1098–1187 (Cambridge, 1995), pp. 97−105, 137−63, 166−69 and passim; Cristina Dondi, The Liturgy of the Canons

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papal schism of 1130 also allowed other ecclesiastical institutions of Jerusalem to gain political independence from the overwhelming authority of the patriarch by means of a direct connection with the church of Rome. For example, in autumn 1138 Geoffrey, prior of the Templum Domini, obtained the title of abbot and major revenues from the Transjordan region.47 As for the papacy, the notion of the Orientalis ecclesia that developed during the schism was used as a favourite device to strengthen the position of the Roman curia when a crisis broke out, even if Pelagius’s theory of the five apostolic sees never supplanted the primacy of Peter.48 As a matter of fact, during the subsequent papal schism of 1159 Gerhoh, provost of Reichersberg, stated in his Opusculum ad cardinales (dated to 1165) that the final condemnation of Anacletus II and the full recognition of Innocent II was due to the apostolic sees of Outremer (rei veritate comperta de consensu apostolicarum sedium transmarinarum) conferring a special place to Jerusalem and Antioch.49 In any case, in 1159 the roles of the church and the kingdom of Jerusalem were completely different and were largely confined to papal propaganda. At the beginning there was no agreement between Patriarch Amaury of Nesle and King Baldwin III over the rightful candidate for pope, and the crusader states played no major part in the political struggle that involved Alexander III and Victor IV.

Regular of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem: A Study and a Catalogue of the Manuscript Sources, Bibliotheca Victorina 16 (Turnhout, 2004); Laura Minervini, “Produzione e circolazione di manoscritti negli stati crociati: biblioteche e scriptoria latini,” in Medioevo romanzo e orientale. Il viaggio dei testi. III Colloquio internazionale, Venezia, 10–13 ottobre 1996, Atti, ed. Antonio Pioletti and Francesca Rizzo Nervo (Venice, 1999), pp. 79−96; Miriam Rita Tessera, “Dalla liturgia del Santo Sepolcro alla biblioteca di Sidone: note sulla produzione libraria latina di oltremare nel secoli XII–XIII,” Aevum 79 (2005), pp. 407−15. 47  For Geoffrey, see Rudolf Hiestand, “Gaufridus abbas Templi Domini: An Underestimated Figure in the Early History of the Kingdom of Jerusalem,” in EC, 2, pp. 48−59. 48  Cf. Maccarrone, “Fundamentum,” pp. 403−4. 49  Gerhoh of Reichersberg, Opusculum ad cardinales, ed. Peter Classen, in idem, Opera inedita, 1 (Rome, 1955), p. 328; Maccarrone, “Fundamentum,” pp. 400−401; Tomea, “In merito al concetto,” pp. 77−80.

On the Books of Maccabees: An Unpublished Poem by Geoffrey, Prior of the Templum Domini Eyal Poleg University of Edinburgh [email protected] The cultural creativity in the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem left little evidence. Among the few remnants of its original poetry the Templum Domini takes a place of honour. There, in the abbey church established in the Dome of the Rock, three lengthy poems were composed, which narrated in Latin verse the history of the Temple, the canonical Books of Maccabees and Josephus’s Jewish Wars. In this article I wish to bring to print the second poem – a revision of 1 and 2 Maccabees written by Geoffrey, the second prior and first abbot of the Templum Domini (d. ca. 1160). Prefacing the edition, a brief survey of extant manuscripts and analysis of biblical and extra-biblical sources will ascertain its authorship and demonstrate the concerns of a leading clergyman in the kingdom. An unnoticed fragment from the abbey of St. Bertin will shed additional light on the complex diffusion of the poems. Information on Geoffrey (or Gaufridus) exists mainly from the time of his abbacy. Witness lists from the Latin kingdom establish Geoffrey’s importance and his affinity to the “Queen’s part” in the conflict between Melisende and Baldwin III. They also fix the beginning of his abbacy to the end of 1137 and its conclusion to a time between 1160, his last appearance as abbot, and 1165/6 when his nephew Hugh succeeded him. During Geoffrey’s abbacy the Templum Domini was renovated and consecrated (March 1141) in the presence of Bishop Alberic of Ostia (the papal legate) and leading church dignitaries. Abbot Geoffrey also acted on two different occasions as an envoy to the Byzantine Emperor John II Comnenus and to his son, Manuel I Comnenus. These enabled Geoffrey to put into practice his knowledge of Greek, noted by William of Tyre. Little is known of Geoffrey’s life beforehand and of his short priorate, between the last appearance of the abbey’s first prior, Achard d’Arrouaise, on 1 November 1135/6, and the beginning of his abbacy in 1137. It was during that time that Geoffrey compiled a letter to Count Geoffrey Plantagenet of The article is based on my MA dissertation in the Department of Comparative Religion, the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. I am grateful to B. Z. Kedar from whose kind guidance I have benefited throughout. The Centre for the Study of Christianity in the Hebrew University has supported this work and HaNadiv Foundation enabled its revision for publication. I thank Adam Stein for his meticulous proofreading and Alun Ford and Damien Kempf for their advice.   Rudolf Hiestand, “Gaufridus abbas Templi Domini: An Underestimated Figure in the Early History of the Kingdom of Jerusalem,” in EC, 2, pp. 48–59; Amnon Linder, “An Unpublished Charter of Geoffrey, Abbot of the Temple in Jerusalem,” in Outremer, pp. 119–29.   WT, pp. 703, 846.

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Anjou (discussed below) in search of support for the Templum Domini. The poems composed by Geoffrey can shed additional light on this period and on aspects of his persona, less evident in official correspondence. Three manuscripts contain all three poems and follow the same order: the three poems begin with a verse rendering of Temple history from biblical times to the construction of the Dome of the Rock, followed by the poem on the Books of Maccabees and concluding with the rewriting of Josephus. The first poem was composed by Achard d’Arrouaise – the abbey’s first prior – and besought King Baldwin (either the First or the Second) to restore the possessions of the Templum Domini plundered during the conquest of Jerusalem in 1099. Clear and explicit introduction, conclusion and acrostics identified its author, address and agenda. The poem relies heavily on the Bible (especially Kings, Chronicles and the Gospels) and concludes with the assertion that the Dome of the Rock was built by a Byzantine emperor. Written in 817 lines of 15 syllables Achard’s poem befits an oral performance, as supplemented by internal evidence (e.g. ll. 9, 26, 43, 44 and 261). The two remaining poems were written by Geoffrey and introduce new form and content. They were written in octosyllabic leonine couplets and do not contain any acrostics; the second poem refers to visual, rather than vocal, acts of writing and reading (e.g. lector ll. 214, 1156; volumen 27, 105, 1154; scribere 1157; digressionem facere … inserere 104–5; stilus noster 143). There is little reference to Temple history in the second poem: whereas Achard’s poem takes care to narrate the construction, structure and function of the Temple, Geoffrey paid little attention to Temple history and took the connection between the Templum Domini and the biblical Temple for granted; although paraphrasing 1 and 2 Maccabees at length, he failed to note or expand on episodes of direct relevance to the Temple, such as its glorification by Simeon (1 Macc. 15:9). The heading “Poems on the Lord’s Temple” for all three poems, common among modern researchers, appears therefore to be superficial. I have therefore preferred, for the second poem, to follow the medieval title “Prior Geoffrey of the Temple, on the Books of Maccabees,” as preserved in Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Laud. Misc. 406 fol. 1r. Research on the three poems has placed those of Geoffrey in the shadow of Achard’s, with the former mentioned in passing, usually in the context of ascertaining copying relations. First to note their existence was Albert Clark whose early twentieth-century study of Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Bodley 603 suggested

  Paul Lehmann, “Die mittellateinischen Dichtungen der Prioren des Tempels von Jerusalem Acardus und Gaufridus,” in Corona Quernea: Festgabe Karl Strecker zum 80. Geburtstage dargebracht, MGH Schriften 6 (Leipzig, 1941), pp. 296–330. All references to Achard’s poem will follow Lehman’s numbering.   Denys Pringle, The Churches of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem: A Corpus, 3 (Cambridge, 2007), pp. 397–417; Sylvia Schein, “Between Mount Moria and the Holy Sepulchre: The Changing Traditions of the Temple Mount in the Central Middle Ages,” Traditio 40 (1984), p. 181.



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a revision of Achard’s poem and noted the existence of Geoffrey’s poems. The identification of Besançon, Bibliothèque municipale MS 187 soon enabled E.-G. Ledos to conduct a detailed comparison between the versions of Achard’s poem. He then suggested that the two additional poems were written by Achard, encouraged by the success of his first poem and influenced by the religious atmosphere at SaintNicolas d’Arrouaise. The most extensive analysis of all three poems was carried out by Paul Lehmann in 1941, who introduced Laud. Misc. 406 and provided a critical edition for Achard’s poem. Although Lehmann’s interest lay firmly with the first poem, he made a valuable contribution to the study of Geoffrey’s poems. These poems were introduced, some of their digressions transcribed, and attempts were made to identify their sources. More recently, the poems were evoked in A. G. Rigg’s analysis of Bodley 603, which ascertained its reliance on Laud. Misc. 406. Below is a brief description of each of the known manuscripts, accompanied by an additional fragment, currently at Saint-Omer Bibliothèque municipale. The Manuscripts Besançon, Bibliothèque municipale MS 187 (V) This dates, on palaeographical evidence, to the end of the twelfth century. Its provenance is ascertained by a fourteenth-century note on the first folio, assigning it to the monastery of Saint-André at Villeneuve. The manuscript is written in several hands and styles and contains theological works such as Micrologus de omnibus ecclesiasticis officiis, a poem on the Mass, Augustine’s sermon on the sacrament of the altar, and citations from Jerome and Augustine. It measures, in its modern binding, 220×134 mm (written text 173×115 mm). All three poems are written in one hand, in two columns of 35 lines with a dry-point ruling; red initials identify major sub-divisions and red dots the beginning of verses and proper names. Lack of catchwords and a very tight modern binding prevent collation and inhibit the identification of a few words in the first column of each recto. The text is heavily contracted and interspersed with errors resulting from the scribe’s unfamiliarity with biblical terminology (e.g. binarum instead of minarum, l. 1062) or expanding abbreviations (e.g. disponitis ll. 673, 920; imponita l. 929); single consonants are at times doubled and double ones made single; cases and declinations are occasionally erroneous. V’s orthography is inconsistent: y and i are interchangeable at the   Albert C. Clark, “Achard d’Arrouaise poème sur le temple de Salomon, fragment inédit,” ROL 12 (1911), pp. 263–74, relying on Marquis de Vogüé, “Achard d’Arrouaise, poème sur le Templum Domini,” AOL 1 (Paris, 1881), pp. 562–79.   E.-G. Ledos, “Un nouveau manuscrit du poème d’Achard d’Arrouaise sur le Templum Domini,” Bibliothèque de l’Ecole des chartes 77 (1916), pp. 58–73.   A. G. Rigg, “Medieval Latin Poetic Anthologies (III),” Medieval Studies 41 (1979), pp. 468– 505.

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beginning of proper names, h before o is at times inserted or omitted; f is preferred to ph, ie replaces ge (i.e. proienie l. 20), mp shortened to m (promtissimos l. 397) and d and t used interchangeably (e.g. dereliquid l. 405; Galaat l. 582). Numbers are written in roman numerals. Despite its shortcomings, V preserves important variants, especially for the lacuna in L. Oxford, Bodleian Library MS Laud. Misc. 406 (L) On palaeographical evidence, this is dated to the end of the twelfth century, possibly from northern France. It is written in one hand throughout, and contains, apart from the three poems, several theological works (e.g. Eugenius of Toledo, Pseudo-Damasius, various prologues to the Psalter). The manuscript today measures 226×161 mm (written text 155×105 mm) and is written throughout in a single column of 22 lines (apart from fol. 45v) with plummet ruling; paragraph marks identify major and minor division, while alternating red and green initials mark each verse. The gathering of the poems is of eight folios (four bifolia) quires, without catchwords but having consecutive numbers on the verso of the last folio of each quire. The fourth quire is of five folios (missing leaves in the third, fourth and fifth positions in between fol. 26v and 27r), which accounts for a lacuna in the text between lines 323 and 454. Minims are separated, u and n differentiated and double consonants, in most parts, avoided. It prefers h before o at the beginning of words and ph to f. Its orthography of biblical names is at times inconsistent (Nicanor spelled also as Nichanor (ll. 726, 729), Apollonius/Appollonius (ll. 44, 884 and 893) and Ioppe/Iope (ll. 892, 894)). Oxford Bodleian MS Bodley 603 (O) This was written, as demonstrated by Rigg, between the canonization of Thomas Becket (1173) and ca. 1200. It contains theological works (such as the works of Alain of Lille and religious poetry) and shares with L Achard’s and Geoffrey’s poems, Pseudo-Damasus and Eugenius of Toledo, in the same order. This, alongside a correlation between marginal paragraph marks in L and decorated initial in O, has led Rigg to suggest O’s dependence on L, albeit with the assistance of an additional manuscript. O is written in one hand throughout, mainly in a single column of 32 lines. It is ruled in plummet with added red bounding line; a red dot marks the beginning of each new line; alternating red and green capitals in varying sizes mark minor and major divisions. It currently measures 212×144 mm (written text 163×107 mm) with quires of eight folios, numbered on the last verso of each quire to the end of quire ix (fol. 68v). All of the poem’s quires are intact. At times O presents a variant reading to that of V and L. O’s unique reading is probably a scribal revision and applies both to Achard’s and Geoffrey’s poems. In the poem on the Books of Maccabees metre is at times ignored (e.g. ll. 656 and 1105) or modified (e.g. ll. 631, 751, 793, 799). The affinity between O’s reading and the



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Vulgate (as in ll. 73, 282, 492, 656, 772, 838, 897, 1008, 1028 and 1073) raises the possibility of a scribe’s reliance on the Vulgate in correcting the original, at times flawed, text. O’s scribe has a strong tendency for transposition, often corrected by a mark above the line (as in ll. 175, 279, 417, 478, 753 and 769). Such a tendency makes other transpositions less reliable. On the whole ae is identified by an e caudata and double i’s are discerned by light diagonal lines. O’s orthography prefers adm to amm, single p to double, and f to ph. Orthography of biblical names is at times inconsistent, with Lisias spelled either as Lysie or Lisie (ll. 494 and 505 respectively). Saint-Omer, Bibliothèque municipale MS 776, fol. 65r (S) This manuscript contains a fragment which has escaped the attention of scholars. The fragment is of the poem’s closing lines (1131–70), but a lack of rubrics has led to its classification as a chronicle of the kings of Asia. The poem is followed immediately, within the same side, by a chronicle of French monarchs (Franci origine Troiani). The manuscript itself is a miscellany in modern bindings of fragments from the monastery of St. Bertin. It contains texts in hands ranging from the tenth to the sixteenth centuries, with the poem and subsequent chronicle written in the same late twelfth-century hand. Other works in the miscellany are a chronicle of Flanders, genealogy of French monarchs since Charlemagne, the vita of Amicus and Amilius, Ganalonis proditoris perfidia, a fragment of Turpin’s chronicle and Charlemagne’s life. Interestingly, the modern manuscript contains the Gesta Francorum expugnantium Iherusalem in a similar twelfth-century hand alongside a plan of Jerusalem. The fragment is written in two columns of 26 lines with plummet ruling. The poem is written continuously with the beginning of each line marked by a red dot in the middle of the first letter; sub-divisions marked by alternating red and blue initials. In its modern binding the poem and subsequent chronicle measures 225×150 mm (written text 163×115 mm), with quires of eight folios marked by consecutive roman numerals on the verso of the last folio of each quire, made at or near the time of compilation. The gathering is most revealing. The poem is part of a new quire, which ends on fol. 67v with the mark xii. Only folios 65, 66 and 67 form part of the original quire (in the sixth, seventh and eighth positions in the quire) with their stubs identifiable between folio 62v and 63r. Folios 63 and 64, which form part of the quire in the modern binding, were sewn at a later date. The quire numbering suggests that 93 folios (five folios of the present quire and eleven quires of eight folios each) preceded the fragment. As the fragment’s forty lines take less than a single side, all three poems could have easily preceded the fragment. However, as the fragment is of the second poem, and followed immediately by a different   H. V. Michelant, Manuscrits de la bibliothèque de Saint-Omer, Catalogue général des manuscrits des bibliothèques publiques des départements 3 (Paris, 1861), pp. 352–53.

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work altogether, the sequence is unlike any of the other manuscripts. Rather than preserving all three poems in sequence, the original manuscript either placed the third poem at a different location, or, more likely, omitted it altogether. The text does not differ significantly from other manuscripts; its orthography presents some biblical names or terms with an additional h (e.g. Ihericho, thori) and others without any (e.g. Ptolomeus). The Text Geoffrey’s poem is a verse rendering of the canonical Books of Maccabees. Its structure follows closely 1 Maccabees while incorporating key episodes of 2 Maccabees: the poem begins with 1 Macc. 1:1–11 and ends with 1 Maccabees chapter 16; elements from 2 Maccabees are woven into the historical sequence of 1 Maccabees, with the most important insertions being on the corruption of the priesthood (2 Maccabees chs. 3–5 = ll. 31–213) and the persecutions of Antiochus (2 Maccabees chs. 6–7 = ll. 269–353), two elements key to Geoffrey’s unique interest in Maccabean history. The author had had the Bible, in the translation of the Vulgate, before his eyes: numerous biblical elements both within and without the Books of Maccabees are brought verbatim and minor biblical references are expanded beyond 1 and 2 Maccabees (e.g. ll. 407–32). The biblical text was shortened and altered to accommodate the poem’s metre and rhyme, with a tendency to preserve biblical phrases and foreign words. The simplification of the biblical text is at times cumbersome, as in the lack of Eleazar’s identification as a Maccabee (ll. 661–68) or in the service of Triphon (ll. 953–54). Some of the poem’s biblical references are best seen as liturgical echoes. The Bible punctuated monastic life and biblical texts were chanted and read at Mass and Office throughout the day. The author’s reference to old and young, matrons and virgins (“senes atque iuvenes anus simul ac virgines” l. 65) thus extends beyond 2 Macc. 3:19 (“Accinctaeque mulieres … et virgines quae conclusae erant …”) to echo the words of Ps. 148:12 (“juvenes et virgines; senes cum junioribus”). Rather than a verbatim quotation, it is best seen as a verbal echo of a text which was chanted daily at Lauds. Similar references are in lines 1087 (Ps. 106:37) and 1113 (Ps. 77:54). Other liturgical references are more obvious. The perennial nature of David’s reign in line 423 (“A seculo et in seculum et nunc et in perpetuum”) constitutes a clear echo to the Lesser Doxology (“Gloria patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto. Sicut erat in principio, et nunc et semper, et in saecula saeculorum”); Christ’s sacrifice (l. 219) echoes elements from the Ordinary of the Mass. Liturgical echoes in the story of the mother and seven children reveals a delicate subtext which connects the poem to the Templum Domini. The mother, after the death of all seven sons, did not lament their loss and suffered martyrdom. This section is infused with Marian attributes: she is referred to as the blessed mother (felix mater l. 354) as well as a mother standing immobilized (Stabat mater immobilis l. 348). The former is a



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common Marian attribute, as in the first nocturne for Christ’s Nativity in Abelard’s Hymnarius Paraclitensis. The latter attribute is taken from the Passion narrative of John (20:11), read on Good Friday and later made into the well-known hymn Stabat Mater. The strong Marian undertone complements the nature of worship at the Templum Domini, which was dedicated to the Virgin Mary. The narration of Maccabean history reveals important traits and emphases beyond the biblical text. The overall structure of Maccabean history is subjected to links of causality, which weave together seemingly detached biblical elements. Thus, the corruption of the clergy is seen as the cause for the (apocryphal) diminishing of the sacred fire and the waves of persecutions instigated by Antiochus. The martyrdom of the seven brothers and their mother is then depicted, in a unique transition, as means of appeasing God: the blood of the martyrs cleansed the stains of sins, thus enabling the subsequent Maccabean revolt (ll. 358–61). Links of causality also stand behind Judas Maccabeus’s untimely death, caused by seeking peace with the Romans. This follows Geoffrey’s concern with piety and reliance on God alone, reiterated repeatedly throughout the poem. An array of biblical exempla, from Abraham to Daniel, makes the rewards of piety explicit (ll. 407–32). In connecting the image of the Maccabees to the Latin kingdom, Geoffrey followed a well-trodden path. As demonstrated recently, the image of the Maccabees permeated crusading narratives from versions of Urban II’s address at Clermont, through descriptions of the siege of Antioch, to the epithet on Baldwin I’s tomb, described according to the pilgrim Theoderic as “the other Judas Maccabeus” (Alter Iudas Machabeus).10 The Maccabees were seen as a role model for the Franks, characterized by their piety and willingness to fight for Temple and rituals. The comparison between Maccabean history and the present was frequent among authors in the Latin kingdom. Thus the battles for Antioch were compared to those of the Maccabees by Raymond of Aguilers, Guibert of Nogent and Fulcher of Chartres, all praising the Maccabees for their faith in God, rather than their own might.11 The comparison between Franks and Maccabees had always left the latter lacking, as the eras were inherently different: the Franks were fighting for, and in knowledge of, Christ, while the Maccabees had fought for circumcision and archaic dietary laws. Such a comparison is clearly and explicitly rejected by Geoffrey. The poem’s coda rather reiterates the similarities between the eras and admonishes those whose ignorance led them to see the Maccabean past as inferior to the present:

  Hymnarius Paraclitensis, ed. Werner Robl, http://www.abaelard.de/abaelard/050603hymnarius. htm (2002), accessed 1 November 2009. 10  Christoph Auffarth, Irdische Wege und himmlischer Lohn: Kreuzzug, Jerusalem und Fegefeuer in religionswissenschaftlicher Perspektive (Göttingen, 2002), pp. 123–50; Mary Fischer, “The Books of the Maccabees and the Teutonic Order,” Crusades 4 (2005), pp. 59–71; Peregrinationes tres: Saewulf, John of Würzburg, Theodericus, ed. Robert B. C. Huygens, CCCM 139 (Turnhout, 1994), p. 154. 11  Raimundus de Aguilers, Historia Francorum, qui ceperunt Iherusalem, RHC Oc 3:245; GN, p. 240 (also p. 290); FC, p. 589 (also pp. 116–17).

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Nunc autem dicunt plurimi Huic nostro similia Qui si nossent preterita

preteritorum nescii nunquam fuisse tempora, hec dicerent felicia. (ll. 1168–70)

The poem follows works from the Latin kingdom in assigning the name of the Maccabees to the sons of Mattathias, the instigators of the Maccabean Revolt. Thus it differs from church fathers such as Augustine and Bernard of Clairvaux or from the Chronicles of Caffaro, all using the name “Maccabees” to refer to the seven brothers and their mother, whose torments are narrated in the seventh chapter of 2 Maccabees.12 It was the seven brothers, rather than Mattathias’s sons, who were commemorated in Catholic liturgy and whose relics were identified in Antioch, Constantinople, Rome and Cologne. The torments of the seven brothers and their mother are narrated at length in the poem, following the biblical narrative. The wording of the poem attests to a discussion, which occupied Bernard of Clairvaux at the very same time the poem was written. In Epistle 98, Bernard replied to an anonymous question on the nature of the Maccabees as Christian martyrs. He claimed that the Maccabees alone were admitted as martyrs of the Old Testament due to the nature of their torments and death, which prefigured Christian martyrdom. However, as they died before the advent of Christ, they could not have been admitted to heaven upon their death, but only to limbo, where no festal joys awaited them. The poem does not explicitly confront the theological complexities of the brothers’ arrival in heaven, yet addresses it in a delicate subtext. It follows 2 Maccabees in describing the brothers as awaiting Resurrection, but emphasizes the brothers’ faith in meeting Christ beyond that of the biblical text. The words of the mother to the youngest son (“… sed transi per martyrium ad ipsorum consortium” l. 332) place the brothers at the same level as that of Christian martyrs in its use of the term consortium, common in descriptions of saints and martyrs. The modification of the words of the third brother from spero to non dubito (2 Macc. 7:11 = l. 302) further enhances the connection between the brothers and Christian martyrdom. This link concords with Geoffrey’s overarching assertion of the similarities between the eras as well as the Marian attributes of the mother. Geoffrey’s use of Maccabean history differs from that of other authors in the Latin kingdom. Whereas the poem, much like the above-mentioned chronicles, supplies a typological understanding of Maccabean history, it takes the connection between the Maccabees and the Latin kingdom for granted. Relying upon consensual understanding of the importance and relevance of the Maccabees to the kingdom, the author used events from the Books of Maccabees to address his main concern – the 12  Augustine of Hippo, De civitate Dei contra paganos, ed. Bernard Dombart and Alphonse Kalb, Corpus Christianorum Series Latina 48 (Turnhout, 1955), p. 632; Bernard of Clairvaux, Epistolae, ed. Jean Leclercq and Henri Rochais, Sancti Bernardi Opera 7 (Rome, 1974), no. 98, pp. 248–53; Caffaro, Liberatio Orientis, in Annali Genovesi di Caffaro e de’ suoi Continuarori, dal MXCIX al MCCXCIII, ed. Luigi Tommaso Belgrano, 1 (Genoa, 1890; repr. Turin, 1969), p. 103; Margaret Schatkin, “The Maccabean Martyrs,” Vigiliae Christiana 28 (1974), pp. 97–113.



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problem of simony. He wove events from the Books of Maccabees together with other biblical occurrences to address the buying and selling of spiritual goods, which he feared threatened the Catholic Church. At the crux of his argument, as well as the connection between the biblical past and his own time, lies an excerpt from the works of Augustine (ll. 104–43). This quote is taken not from Augustine’s De haeresibus (PL 46), as argued by Lehmann, but rather relies on a work attributed to Augustine, extant in Algerus Leodiensis’s Liber de misericordia et justitia 3:42 (PL 180:951). There, an apocryphal element is added to the Books of Maccabees, linking the selling of the priesthood to Jason with the dying out of the sacred flame in the Temple, the same flame that survived under water for the seventy years of the Babylonian captivity, as narrated in 2 Macc. 1:19–22. The story is then connected, in the poem as in the Liber de misericordia, to the fact that Potiphar, who bought Joseph from the Midianites, was a eunuch (Gen. 37:36). In the poem the castration takes place after the purchase, echoing Jerome’s apocryphal story, in which Potiphar was castrated by God to prevent his original intention of purchasing Joseph for indecent purposes.13 Pseudo-Augustine utilized the connection between the selling of Joseph and the sterility of Potiphar, the purchase of the high priesthood and the quenching of the sacrificial fire, to claim that the Holy Spirit is devoid from those practising simony. This conclusion was reiterated by both Geoffrey and Algerus. The similarity between the two texts (e.g. “quod significavit ignem Spiritus sancti in Simoniacis non lucere” (PL 180:951) and “Nec lucet ignis spiritus in ipsorum ordinibus” (l. 142)), raises the possibility of a mutual source, if not of Geoffrey’s reliance on Algerus. The latter text was copied into Gratian’s Decretum, and from there to Peraldus’s Summa and Wyclif’s On Simony.14 Pseudo-Augustine enabled Geoffrey to connect the biblical narrative to his own reality. This was done clearly and explicitly, as the digression begins and ends with a reflection on the act of writing (“Videtur non inutile digressionem facere” l. 104; “Nunc stilus noster redeat ad id quod proposuerat” l. 143). Two additional digressions, beyond a brief introduction and conclusion, are also characterized by writing in the first person and present tense, while connecting biblical history to Geoffrey’s own time. The second digression (ll. 214–40) is signalled by direct references to the author’s present and audience (“Ammonemus hoc carmine lectores … Nos monent, ne Catholici conmaculentur heresi”) and expands upon the dangers of simony. Building on the first digression, it provides a clear definition of simony as buying, as well as selling, spiritual goods. The term is then expanded with references to the story of Simon Magus (Acts 8:9–25) and that of Giezi, Elisha’s servant, who attempted to charge Naaman for his miraculous cure of leprosy (2 Kings 5). Thus the author, in accordance with other writings on simony, defined it as the act of 13 

Jerome, Liber Hebraicarum quaestionum in Genesim, PL 23:995. Gratian, Decretum (Concordia discordantium canonum), ed. Emil Friedberg (Leipzig, 1879), col. 371; Peraldus, Summa aurea de virtutibus et vitiis (Venice, 1497), fol. 238vb; Iohannes Wyclif, Tractatus de symonia 1, ed. Dr. Herzberg-Fränkel and Michael Henry Dziewicki (London, 1898), pp. 13–14. 14 

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buying spiritual goods (simonite) as well as selling them (giezite), both seen as a dangerous and immanent threat to the Catholic Church. The third digression (ll. 798–812) reflects the author’s concerns for the kingdom, and is the least evident of all three. It builds upon an erroneous reference to Pope Gregory’s Moralia in comparing the death of Judas Maccabeus (1 Macc. 9:1–19) and Joseph’s incarceration in Egypt (Genesis 40–41). Both episodes exemplify, according to the poem, the need for piety and reliance solely on God. Judas’s wish to sign a peace treaty with the Romans led to his untimely death, just as Joseph’s reliance on Pharaoh’s butler led to an additional two years spent in prison. The relevance to the author’s own time is intriguing, as he deduces that in the present hope should be placed solely on God and not on men, nor the gold of Arabia (“Est ergo bonum ponere in deo iusto iudice / Spem nostram non in homine vel in auro Arabie,” ll. 811–12). I was not able to identify the reference to Arabian gold, and its connection to the Latin kingdom remains to be examined. The poem’s concern with buying and selling spiritual goods unravels the rationale for its structure and the author’s interest in Maccabean history. It can further assist in establishing Geoffrey as its author. An epistle written by Geoffrey during his priorate (November 1135–end of 1137) to Count Geoffrey Plantagenet of Anjou (†1151) has recently been analysed by Rudolf Hiestand.15 In the epistle the prior besought the count’s assistance, evoking the dignity of the Temple and telling about the writing of a book which contains its mysteries. The similarities between the epistle and the poem are striking: not only is Geoffrey’s explicit concern with buyers and sellers (vendentes et ementes) present, but the epistle displays, in the midst of what appears to be an appeal for (material) support, the story of Christ driving the moneylenders from the Temple (Mt. 21:12–13). With the poem in mind we can now adequately address Hiestand’s note that “it is not clear why Geoffrey insisted on this episode [ejecting the vendors and moneylenders from the Temple by Christ] or what particular parallels he saw in it to his own time.”16 Geoffrey’s concern with simony and the numerous parallels he saw between its biblical manifestations and his own times are provided, explicitly and repeatedly, throughout the poem. Geoffrey’s interest in simony, alongside the resemblance between the poem and epistle, suggests a new identification of the book mentioned in it, which would describe the mysteries and profound dignity of the Temple (“Ipsius [templi] enim dignitatem et mysterii profunditatem scribere libri potius esset quam epistole”). The hypothesis that Geoffrey revised Achard’s poem cannot be fully sustained, given the differences in style, metre and reliance on biblical sources (cf. Achard ll. 520–22; Geoffrey ll. 119–21). Furthermore, Geoffrey’s typology, unlike Achard’s literal understanding, better corresponds with the epistle’s “mysterium.” Hiestand’s identification of Geoffrey as the author of all three poems, based on MS L (fol. 1r), should now take into account the full title of the work: Incipit opus Gaufridi prioris 15  16 

Hiestand, “Gaufridus abbas Templi.” Ibid., p. 53, n. 28.



On the Books of Maccabees

23

de templo super libris Machabeorum. The work attributed to Geoffrey was, first and foremost, the second poem. The title, when combined with the epistle to Geoffrey Plantagenet, raises the possibility that the poem was written during Geoffrey’s time as prior. Geoffrey’s interest in simony, as displayed in the poem’s three digressions, occupies a fraction of its length. The first two digressions, alongside the biblical episodes they relate to, comprise the poem’s first 240 lines. The remaining 930 lines, apart from the death of Judas and the reference to Gregory’s Moralia (ll. 774– 812), simply reiterate 1 Maccabees. Thus, most of the poem has little to do with Geoffrey’s main concern. This discrepancy suggests a pattern for the compilation of the poem: Geoffrey, following the reference to driving the moneylenders from the Temple, utilized a text rife among contemporary authors which connected the books of Maccabees and the threat of simony. This text then served as the impetus for compiling an entire poem in which Maccabean history was subjected to the author’s interest in simony and the threat it raised for the Catholic Church and the Latin kingdom. Perhaps of lesser literary value, the poem preserves important evidence of the cultural creativity in the kingdom, and draws unique parallels between biblical history and contemporary threats.

24

Eyal Poleg

Transcription of Prior Geoffrey of the Temple on the Books of Maccabees This edition is based on all three manuscripts and the St. Bertin fragment. I have omitted meaningless readings from the apparatus criticus, alongside readings which do not infringe on meaning (e.g. et/ac, quidem/vero). Transpositions which do not alter metre or rhyme were passed over silently. The orthography followed mostly L, while aiming at uniformity and simplicity; c/t and u/v have been modernized throughout, with other spellings left intact. Punctuation was kept to the necessary minimum. Metre was preferred to proximity to the Vulgate text (e.g. ll. 45, 427). The text is followed by a chart showing the poem’s reliance on 1 and 2 Maccabees; where both books are evoked simultaneously the main referent precedes the auxiliary.

Rex Alexander Macedo 5

10

15

20

25

Qui fuerat rex Grecie Medorum quoque regio Illius; quam celerrime Tunc exaltatur nimia Nec est contentus aliquo Sed congregans exercitum Reges terrarum, nobiles, Expugnavit viriliter Resistentes imperio Et reservavit ceteros Sicque terram pertransiit Civitatem permaximam Quam sitam maris littore Hic anno duodecimo Correptus egritudine Nutritos secum nobiles Et locis quibus voluit Qui sibi diademata Transacto multo tempore Exortus est Antiochus Qui avidus pecunie Antiochus hic filium Sed peior patre filius Nam templum Ierosolimis

percusso rege Dario [V:114vb; regnavit et in Perside   L:19v; O:85] est addita dominio sic cuncta cedunt prospere. cor illius superbia coangustari termino. magnum nimis et validum tyrannos atque principes ac triumphavit iugiter. peremit omnes gladio quos fecit tributarios. que coram illo siluit. construxit Alexandriam, suo vocavit nomine. regni eius explicito [L:20; O:85v] cum desperaret vivere, fecit vocare iuvenes regnare quosque statuit; imposuerunt singula. ex ipsorum progenie rex Asie nequissimus [V:115ra] periit in templo Nanee. generavit Antiochum. vita fuit et moribus, spoliavit divitiis;

1 Explicit liber primus [Incipit secundus L] add. VL   3 Medorum quoque] Medorumque O   8 Terrarum reges trp L   15 eius] iam O, eius eius V 17 vocari V   22 Nanee] Minee L   24 patre peior trp V



Prophanans sanctuarium

exterminavit populum.

Machabeorum prelia Sed prius causas expedit Terre depopulatio Quamdiu lex a populo Hostilis hunc incursio Sed potius ab omnibus Templum dei vel populus In tantum ut rex Asie De propria substantia Conferret atque victimas Tunc styrpe Beniamineus Instinctu diabolico Urbique fraudes pessimas, Onias illo tempore; Sacerdos summus restitit Mox ducem Celesyrie Adivit Apollonium Qui retulit innumeras Erariumque plurima Que non sit necessaria Gavisus Apollonius Narravit verba Symonis Communibusque copiis Rex misit Eliodorum Ut tolleret pecunias Ab Onia pontifice Palam cunctis aperuit, Statim cepit inquirere Que in gazophilatio Vel sacerdote maximo Quod ut audivit pontifex Et dixit Eliodoro: Recondita sunt orphanis Et ab Hyrcano cetera Nec potes ista rapere Contempsit Eliodorus

decrevimus perstringere que commiserunt plurima. narrare, cur contigerit templique desolatio. conservabatur sedulo, non conterebat prelio. venerabatur gentibus quem protegebat dominus. Seleucus assidue templo multa donaria immolaret pacificas. Symon templi prepositus machinabatur populo et tendebat insidias eius tante nequitie ne faceret quod voluit. et Fenicis provincie contra leges et populum, communes esse copias esse plenum pecunia, ad templi sacrificia. adivit regem protinus; de tollendis pecuniis que erant Ierosolimis. virum sibi fidissimum, erario repositas. susceptus honorifice qua causa missus fuerit. que summa sit pecunie, a Iudeorum populo sit congregata studio. Onias tristis factus est “Quedam que in erario deputantur et viduis habentur hic reposita. sine tui discrimine” pecuniarum cupidus

Brevi quidem volumine 30

35

40

45

50

55

60

On the Books of Maccabees

25

[L:20v]

[O:86]

[V:115rb] [L:21]

27 devcreveram V   32 hostiliter V   32 conterrebat O   42 faceret] fieret O 44 legem O   45 Qui] Cui L   47 templi] dei O   50 communibus V, communibus et O   55 Sed add. V   58 ut corr. V   62 rapere] capere O

26

65

70

75

80

85

90

95

Eyal Poleg

Onie verba, nescius Tunc senes atque iuvenes Deprecabantur dominum, Templi eius sacrarium In manus daret gentium Sed conservaret integra Intravit Eliodorus Ut seras comminueret Sed iusta satis ultio Equus enim mirabilis Adornatus apparuit Sessor equi terribilis Visique sunt preterea Adolescentes alii Et plagis multis impium Qui dissolutis omnibus Quam citius obmutuit Qui venerat tam tumidus, Sed sella gestatoria Mox quidam necessarii Ad sacerdotem veniunt Ut deprecetur dominum Ab Onia oratum est Ut reddita est sanitas, Et obtulit pacificas Dehinc ad regem rediit

quid sit futurum citius. anus simul ac virgines ne foret in obprobrium et ne gazophilatium Iudeos odientium, que sunt ibi reposita. cum suis satellitibus, pecuniamque tolleret. est subsecuta subito, operimentis optimis qui calcibus hunc perculit. armis fulgebat aureis circumamicti gloria duo speciosissimi cedebant Eliodorum, corporeis virtutibus et tremefactus corruit. hic iam non suis pedibus defertur ad hospitia. ipsius Eliodori humiliterque suggerunt, illi fore propitium. et infirmus sanatus est. egit Onie gratias in templo dei victimas. enarrans quod acciderit.

ymon delator patrie Ut vidit non proficere In Oniam pontificem Et per eum quam plurima Necnon et Apollonius, Dux Fenicis provincie Iniquitatem Symonis Quod Onias ut comperit, Videbat sine regia Se posse contradicere

communisque pecunie, que disponebat facere, exercebat tyrannidem fiebant homicidia. de quo dixi superius, simul et Celessirie summis fovebat studiis. ad regem sese contulit; nequaquam providentia delatoris malitie.

S

[O:86v] [L:21v]

[V:115va]

65 Cf. Ps. 148:12, chanted daily at Lauds.   66 Relying on 1 Macc. 4:45. 65 virgines anus simul ac iuvenes O   69 cum servaret L   73 Eques O   78 multis plagis trp V   80 citius] totius VL   81 tam] iam O   89 quod] quid O, corr. V 93 quam] quod L;   fiebat V



100

105

110

115

120

125

130

On the Books of Maccabees

Sed mortuo Seleuco Tunc quidam Iason nomine Largitus regi pretium Expellens fratrem proprium

regnum cessit Antiocho. predicto peior Symone suscepit sacerdotium Oniam virum optimum.

Et quedam hic inserere Ab Augustino presule Hic adversus hereticos Errorem contra Symonis, Spiritualem gratiam Brevem quidem sed misticam In testamento veteri Ignis in sanctuario Cum Iason sacerdotium Hic ignis sacrificii Accendebatur sedulo Nam ignis hic aliquando Sola dei clementia Cum plebs Israelitica Septuaginta denique Captivitatem populi Cyro rege qui Baltasar Nescientes omnimodo Quid oporteret fieri Non enim erat licitum Quamvis turbati nimium In eo, cum descenderent Aquam crassam inveniunt Struem lignorum construi Et fudit aquam desuper Statimque ammirantibus Ignis ex aqua prodiit, Exemplum ponit aliud De Ioseph et Phutiphare Hic autem dato pretio

digressionem facere excepta de volumine conscripto in Cartagine. componens libros plurimos volentis ab apostolis habere per pecuniam, hinc protulit sententiam: figura ammirabili extinctus est continuo, adeptus est per pretium. per sacerdotes domini ardens iure perpetuo. servatus est in puteo sine ligni materia, esset in Babylonia. annorum lapso tempore solvente Christo domini interfecit in Sennaar, sacerdotes cum populo de igne sacrificii, succendi ignem alium. accesserunt ad puteum, et ignem ibi quererent, haustamque vasis afferunt. iussit sacerdos domini agens fiducialiter universis astantibus quod natura non habuit. Augustinus episcopus eunuchorum principe: pro abutendo puero

Videtur non inutile

27

[L:22]

[O:87]

[L:22v] [V:115vb]

104–43 Algerus Leodiensis’s Liber de midericordia et Justitia 3:42 (PL 180:951). 121 Combining Ezra 1 with Dan. 5:30.   124 Lev. 6:13.   128 Identified in 2 Macc. 1:27 as Neemias.   133–35 Combining Gen. 37:36 with Jerome’s Liber Hebraicarum quaestionum in Genesim (PL 23:995). 105 excepta] excerpta corr. O   106 conscripto] et scripta O   113 cum] dum O

28

135

140

145

150

155

160

Vires gignendi perdidit Ioseph et sacerdotium, Figurant non venalia Hec, cum a Symoniacis Spirituales filios Privantur pro pecunia Unde prestare nequeunt, Nec lucet ignis spiritus Nunc stilus noster redeat

et in lumbis emarcuit. hic venditus hoc venditum, dona spiritualia. comparantur pecuniis, non generant sed spurios, spirituali gratia. quod ipsi non accipiunt in ipsorum ordinibus. ad id quod proposuerat.

ason fungens officio Contaminavit omnia Nam iuxta ritum gentium Iudeos fecit denique Ponebat autem optimos Quod scelus esse maximum Tunc sacerdotes ceteri Amabant ludos scenicos Grecas vero gloriolas Obliviscentes dominum Ipse Iason argenteas Misit, in sacrificiis Sed rex qui presens affuit In sumptus vero navium Profectus inde rex Iopen Susceptus est a Iasone In tubis et lampadibus Rex rebus Ierosolimis Reversus est per Syriam

pontificis pro pretio divina sacrificia. constituit gymnasium. Antiochenos scribere. in lupanari pueros, ignorat nullus hominum. contempto templo domini plusquam honores patrios. existimantes optimas, palestre dabant studium. didragmas Tyrum plurimas ut offerrentur herculis. hoc fieri prohibuit. iussit poni triremium. pervenit in Ierusalem. nequissimo pontifice et magnis apparatibus. gentiliter dispositis et venit Antiochiam.

Est missus Antiochiam Legatus hic pontificis In se per maius pretium Mox Iason sacerdotio Qui tam crudelis fuerat Cum Ammanitis profugus Sed Menelaus aurea Furatus vendit aliqua

Menelaus a Iasone portans regi pecuniam. frater predicti Symonis retorsit pontificium. expulsus a Menelao, quod fratrem captivaverat moratus est diutius. de templo vasa plurima Andronico dans cetera;

I

Exacto brevi tempore

165

170

Eyal Poleg

[O:87v] [L:23]

[V:116ra]

[L:23v]

165 Above 38ff. 138 comparentur V   142 ipsorum] eorum O   146 ritus O   168 quod] qui OL



175

180

185

190

Ea de causa scilicet, Quod ausus sit corripere Onias Antiochie Corruptus avaritia Andronicus pontificem Tunc Iudei profecti sunt Contra nequam Andronicum Rex contristatus nimium Flevit et impiissimum Menelaumque subito Cui nomine Lisimacus Hic asportato plurimo Et erga templum aliis In ipso est erario Sed noluit omnipotens Que gesta sunt tam pessime Per celos et per aera Videntur discurrentia Equi, currus et lancee, Armati quoque milites

ut Oniam occideret reum de furti crimine. erat in illo tempore; acceptaque pecunia occidit virum celebrem. ad regem et conquesti sunt qui fecit hoc flagitium. super Oniam mortuum interfecit Andronicum, privavit sacerdotio; successit frater ipsius. auro de sanctuario commissis sacrilegiis, interfectus a populo. iudex fortis et patiens impunita relinquere. signorum multa genera futurorum presagia: lorice, scuta, galee et committentes acies.

Arma currus et milites, In mari quoque bellicas Dehinc Egyptum petiit Cui nequivit resistere Sed veritus Antiochum Antiochus exercitum Totamque terram proprio Pro devictis Egyptiis Cor illius intumuit Precepitque militibus Viris ac mulieribus, Fiebat cedes nimia, Completo toto triduo Et quadraginta milia Eiusdem quoque numeri Intrans templum preterea Expoliavit omnia Altare tulit aureum

parat in Antiochia elephantos ac pedites. naves construxit plurimas. et prelium constituit, Ptholomeus rex patrie; init fuge presidium. superavit Egyptium subiugavit dominio. successibusque prosperis Ierusalemque petiit, ne parcerent aliquibus: nec pueris nec senibus. nam octoginta milia occisi sunt de populo dira passi sunt vincula, alienis sunt venditi. rex cum magna superbia divitiis et gloria: et luminis candelabrum,

Antiochus interea 195

200

205

210

On the Books of Maccabees

29

[O:88]

[L:24]

[V:116rb]

[O:88v]

172 ea] hac O   175 correptus V;   acceptaque avaritia trp. O   176 virum] verum V   182 nomine O   193 milites] equites O   199 dominio] imperio O

30

215

220

225

230

235

240

245

Eyal Poleg

Velum, coronas aureas, Thesauros quoque plurimos Et postquam cuncta rapuit

mensas, vasa, fuscinulas, quos invenit absconditos. in terram suam abiit.

Perpendant, quam nefarium Nunc temporis per pretium Non enim adeps pinguium, Nunc immolatur domino Immo caro cum sanguine Assumpsit dei filius Si ignis tunc extinctus est, Pontificali gloria Quid fieri nunc, credimus, Extinguitur emptoribus Adheret lepra Giezi Dona dei gratuita Petri verbis apostoli Qui emunt a vendentibus Emptores Symoniaci Giezite vocati sunt Cum Giezi similia, Non attendunt sed premia Hic sanitatem vendidit, Tunc principi militie Ille lepra percussus est Quod fecit illo tempore Prophete imprecatio, Fit animabus omnium Hec dicta contra pessima Nos monent, ne Catholici

lectores ut sollicite sit contra sanctum spiritum ambire sacerdotium. taurorum vel arietum in nostro sacrificio, quam de Maria virgine pro nobis peccatoribus. quando Iason potitus est data regi pecunia, de igne sancti spiritus simul ac venditoribus. his et eorum semini, qui vendunt pro pecunia; multantur Symoniaci carisma sancti spiritus. dicuntur, et a Giezi venditores qui faciunt dum personarum merita pro sua avaritia. quam Heliseus reddidit a rege misso Syrie; qua Naaman mundatus est. in venditoris corpore hoc modo sine dubio dona dei vendentium. hereticorum genera conmaculentur heresi.

ost duos annos iterum Et tributorum principem Hic rupto pacis federe Residuumque populi Pauci qui fuga lapsi sunt

fortem nimis exercitum rex misit in Ierusalem. destruxit muros undique consumpsit ore gladii. in abditis conclusi sunt

Ammonemus hoc carmine

P

[L:24v]

[V:116va] [L:25]

[O:89]

217 Cf. Lev. 4:35.   219–20 Paraphrasing the Ordinary of the Mass, especially the Nicene Creed.   225–26 2 Kgs. 5.   227–28 Acts 8:18–24. 213 abiit] habiit V, rediit O   214 admoneo O   217 vel] et O   219 Maria in cap OL   221 tunc] quod corr. V   228 a] ac L   233 vendidit … reddidit] vendidit … tradidit V, perdidit … reddidit O   240 conmaculemur O



250

255

On the Books of Maccabees

In speluncis et montibus, Quicquid in urbe fuerat A principe collectum est Tunc militum presidia Qui munierunt turribus Et possederunt omnia Aurum, vestes et pecora, Tunc fit hostilis vastitas, Secundum suam gloriam Festi dies in gemitum Mutatur in obprobrium,

in silvis et paludibus. quod dudum rex reliquerat, et in arcem portatum est. constituerunt in ea, altis et muris fortibus interfectorum spolia domos et utensilia. tunc desolatur civitas; est passa ignominiam. convertuntur et sabbatum honor eius in nichilum.

ost hec scripsit Antiochus Ut esset unus populus Quidam vero de populo Et spretis sacrificiis Sacrificabant ydolis Super altare sculptile Rex stravit aras domini; Prohibuitque populo Iudeos cepit cogere Et pecora communia Si mulieres parvulos Iugulabantur pariter

in cunctis suis finibus gentilis et Iudaicus. consenserunt Antiocho legisque cerimoniis in urbibus et viculis. ponens abominabile construxit aras Baali sacrificare domino. suillas carnes edere que lege sunt prohibita. circumcidebant filios, infans recens et mulier.

Cogebatur atrocius Porcinas carnes edere Sed vir dignus memoria Nolebat vesci carnibus Ipsi tortores regii Ob eius reverentiam Volentes ei parcere “Simula te comedere “Absit” ait “ut vetulus Recedendi a legibus, Et dum flecti non potuit

cui nomen Eleazarus, a regis exactoribus quod non licebat facere. fervens in lege patria prohibitis in legibus. compatientes homini, et etatem decrepitam, ceperunt ei dicere: et permittemus vivere” exemplar sim iuvenibus quas nobis dedit dominus!” feliciter occubuit.

P

260

265

270

275

280

Vir senex atque providus,

Cum matre septem filii

31

[L:25v]

[V:116vb]

[O:89v]

[L:26]

in conspectu Antiochi

253 Cf. Is. 1:7.   260–63 2 Par. 33:3–7.   272 Cf. 2 Macc. 8:21. 248 adduxi arce VLO   250 Qui] quam O   257 hoc L   278 ait] eis V 281 Cum] Eum V

32

285

290

295

300

305

310

315

Cruciabantur variis Eo quod leges patrias Iratus rex Antiochus Succendi iussit subito Qui primus loqui ausus est Videntibusque ceteris Precisis quoque manibus Corpus iam trunco simile Nec contristata mater est Sed hortatur superstites Optent fraterne glorie Primo fratre sic mortuo Secundus ad suplicia “Tu quidem scelestissime Sed faciet nos vivere Hic quoque cute capitis Prioribus similia Et hoc defuncto tertius Paratus ad suplicia “E celo hec possideo Que me rursus a domino Post hec quartus similiter Et ait ad Antiochum “Est bonum mori citius Nobis quidem qui maximam Tibi vero aliquando Non erit, sed perpetuo Dehinc quintus admotus est “Tu, cum sis curruptibilis, Sed patienter sustine Adeo iusto iudice Post hec sextus illuditur Is dum mori inciperet “Ne putes” ait “pessime Dum hec tormenta patimur Que miser sine termino Ammiratur Antiochus Quod mori non timuerint

Eyal Poleg

tormentorum supliciis, zelarent plusquam regias. ollas cum sartaginibus igne grandi subposito. lingua statim privatus est; abstracta cute capitis ac pedum summitatibus rex torret in sartagine. quod filius extinctus est, ut fieri participes qui iam potitur requie. applicatur continuo dixitque voce patria: nos perdis hoc in tempore, secum semper rex glorie” dempta membrisque ceteris sustinuit suplicia. profert linguam cum manibus et ait cum fiducia: sed eadem despicio, [L:26v] recepturum non dubito” [V:117ra] torquebatur atrociter, videns se morti proximum: [O:90] quam vivere diutius resurgemus ad gloriam. ad vitam resurrectio cremaberis incendio” et regi sic locutus est: nunc facis nobis prout vis. et tu videbis concite atrocius torqueri te” et ad tormenta trahitur. et in regem respiceret: te frustra nos occidere. ab eternis eripimur, tu sustinebis aliquo” de sex defunctis fratribus, sed gratanter obierint;

299 Summarising 2 Macc. 7:10. 282 cruciabantur] trucidabantur O   296 faciat V   302 a] an L 310 nunc] om. O   311 tu] tunc V   314 respiceret] inspiceret O



320

325

330

335

340

345

350

355

On the Books of Maccabees

Sese delusum estimat Adolescenti quomodo Cum iuramento denique Beatum illum facere Etate quidem iunior Tam blandimenta regia Tunc rex matri locutus est Ut de salute filio Libenter ait genitrix Dehinc digressa paululum “Non te seducant fili mi Festina, ne diutius Sed transi per martyrium Tyrannus iste perdere Sed animam occidere Nam ille formidandus est Qui vitam dat hominibus Ego quidem te genui In ventre meo quomodo Age fiducialiter Pro eo qui creavit te, Resuscitare poterit Ut verba matris filius Prosiliit in medium “Minas tuas non timeo! Fac et michi quam totius Ut se delusum comperit Et debacatur sevius Stabat mater immobilis Et quos carne pepererat Premisit gaudens ante se Si antequam occumberet, Secura iam de premio Post filiorum obitum Felix mater plus nimio Martyrii tripudio O quam vera fraternitas, Nequivit in certamine

et diligenter cogitat reservet vitam septimo. cepit ei promittere si vellet adquiescere. sed ceteris ferventior contempsit quam suplicia. eamque deprecatus est persuaderet unico. “hoc facio quod suggeris” alloquitur sic filium: verba regis Antiochi; separeris a fratribus ad ipsorum consortium! te potest solo corpore, non poterit aut ledere. qui in utroque potens est, in maternis visceribus; vitam dare non potui; apparuisti nescio. et morere feliciter qui animam cum corpore cum iudicare venerit!” intellexit velocius et dixit ad Antiochum: promissiones respuo! hoc quod fecisti fratribus!” Antiochus infremuit in isto quam in fratribus. orbata septem filiis non dolet quod amiserat. quos metuebat perdere. illos mori non cerneret. spreto rege Antiocho perpessa est martyrium. que reddidisti domino quos genuisti seculo. quam hostilis crudelitas ab invicem divellere.

33

[O:90v] [V:117rb]

348 Jn. 20:11, key in the liturgy of Good Friday.   354 common Marian attribute; cf. the first nocturne for Christ’s Nativity in Abelard’s Hymnarius Paraclitensis. 328 hoc] om. O   357 divellere] dividere O

34

P

360

365

370

375

380

385

390

395

Eyal Poleg

lacata est his hostiis Insontis unda sanguinis Tunc placuit altissimo Ut suscitaret aliquem Rex deputat satellites Ut conterant exiguas Si facere contempserint

ira superni iudicis; detersit nevos criminis. pro liberando populo de plebe sua principem. seuos et detestabiles Iudeorum reliquias, quicquid, eis preceperint.

Habebat quinque filios Iohannan, Eleazarum, Et Ionathan cum Symone, Ad bellum robustissimos Hi videntes que populo Ierusalem reliquerant Illuc cum detestabiles Et coegissent populum Non domino sed Baali Quidam Iudeus impudens Et cedens iussis regiis Quod Matathias intuens Sacrificantem gladio Et fecit aram destrui Occisus est et nuntius Mox derelictis omnibus Cum filiis et fratribus Legem dei zelantibus Sumebant sibi pabula, Postquam compertum est ab his Quos rex illic reliquerat Profecti sunt ut guererent Et expectantes sabbatum Arma non est arripere Ubicumque reperiunt Et perierunt sabbato Ut cognoverunt ceteri Videntes sic residuum Exibant et per sabbatum

de sacerdotum semine sapientes et strenuos: Iudam quoque Machabeum tam animo quam corpore consilioque providos. fiebant ab Antiocho, et in Modin confugerant. pervenissent satellites offerre sacrificium iuxta iussum Antiochi. paternam legem respuens sacrificavit ydolis. iratus est et irruens trucidat coram domino, ne immolarent ceteri. quem miserat Antiochus. absconditur in montibus et aliis quam pluribus ibique cum pecoribus herbas agrestes, folia. qui erant Ierosolimis quod Matathias fecerat. et eum interficerent; quando Iudeis licitum vel operis quid facere, inermes interficiunt. mille viri de populo. hec facta die sabbati, posse perire populum contra hostes ad prelium.

Vir Matathias nomine

Matathias ut comperit

[O:91]

[V:117va]

quod terminus advenerit

358 ira superni] ara fratrum V   359 nervos V   369 bella V   389 est] om. O



400

405

410

415

420

425

430

On the Books of Maccabees

Quo mori iam oporteat Exhortaturque singulos In defendendis legibus “Sit” ait “dux militie Precedat vos in prelio Symon prudens consilio Ad nutum cuius omnia Pugnabitis cum gentibus Legisque cerimoniis Quem dereliquit dominus Que iussit facientibus Dum Abraham temptatus est Non parcens unigenito Promeruit a domino Cui reputata etiam Ioseph autem in tempore Cum non consensit domine Solutus nexu carceris Sic Phinees dum percutit A domino perpetuum Explorans terram Iosue Sucessor factus Moysi Caleph dum in ecclesia Prout vidit in omnibus Chebron accepit predium David quem unxit Samuel Accepit regni solium A seculo et in seculum Propter misericordiam Cum reprobato Saule Cum eum Saul quereret Helyas dum zelatus est Sydrach, Mysach, Abdenago Liberantur a domino, Non consenserunt aureum

in unum natos convocat esse semper promptissimos et protegendis fratribus. Iudas vir fortis robore. ut vos defendat gladio. erit vobis subsidio, constituentur prelia. pro vobis et pro fratribus et gloriosi eritis. de universis patribus? non est auditum penitus? et fidelis inventus est quem diligebat filio benedici perpetuo est fides ad iustitiam. doloris et angustie sed restitit luxurie prelatus est Egyptiis. quos fornicari conspicit accepit sacerdotium. ut iussum est a Moyse effectus est dux populi. testificatur omnia chananeorum finibus laboris sui premium. in regem super Israel semenque eius post eum et nunc et in perpetuum, quam conservavit etiam quem posset interficere ut eum interficeret. legem in celum raptus est. de fornacis incendio dum pro regis imperio adorare simulacrum.

35

[O:91v]

[V:117vb]

407–9 Gen. 21:1–19.   411–13 Gen. 39–41.   414–15 Num. 25:7–13. 416–19 Num. 13–14.   420 Josh. 14:13–14.   421–22 1 Sam. 16:13. 423 Paraphrasing the Lesser Doxology.   425–26 1 Sam. 24:3–7, 26:8–12. 428 Preferring the Babylonian names to the Hebrew ones (Ananias, Azarias, Misahel) of 1 Macc. 2:59.   429–30 Dan. 3. 396 natos] omnes O   399 sic O   407 cum O   427 raptus] receptus O

36

435

440

445

450

455

460

465

Eyal Poleg

Sic Danielem dominus Dum timuit plus dominum His exemplis edocuit Ac deinde defunctus est

salvavit a leonibus quam instituta satrapum.” Matathias quos genuit. et in Modin sepultus est.

ost mortem patris filius Ut gygas invincibilis Auxiliante domino Tam prudenti consilio Et velut leo rugiens Inimicorum omnium Sed filios superbie Ut nec nocte quiesceret Exterminatis hostibus Persequebatur impios Quos perturbarunt populum Et congregans Iudaici Ingenti cum letitia Crevitque nomen illius Dehinc dux Apollonius Iudee gentis emulus Virtute quoque maxima Cum Iuda bellum iniit Nam ensem apolonii Cum hoc pugnavit gladio

exurgens Iudas Machabeus accinctus armis bellicis castra sua cum populo protegebat quam gladio. super hostes insiliens non metuebat impetum, sic ventilabat undique cum ita res exigeret. de Iuda civitatibus longe vel prope positos. succendit flammis ignium. dispersionem populi constituebat prelia in cunctis terre finibus. de quo supra iam diximus collectis exercitibus ascita de Samaria, a quo victus occubuit. accinxit suo lateri post hec in omni prelio.

eron quidam de Syria Facta de Apollonio Congregavit exercitum Manu forti committeret Egressus Syria Seron Et cum eo quam plurimi Quorum innumerabili Satis putabat facile At Iudas non in numero Paucos elegit socios Cum autem castra fortia Dixerunt Iude: “Quomodo

audivit de victoria et his qui erant cum eo. ut contra Iudam prelium nomenque sibi faceret. pervenit usque Bethoron fortes auxiliarii confisus multitudini Iudeos interficere. confisus sed in domino ad bellum contra plurimos. conspicerent hostilia poterimus in prelio

P

S

[O:92]

[V:118ra]

[L:27]

[O:92v]

432 Dan. 6.   441 1 Macc. 2:47 .   449 Above, 43ff.   458 Cf. Exod. 13:14 433 expletis O   435 Iudas] om. O   441 ventilabat] expugnabat V   442 cum ita] suta V   445 correxi. VLO qui; perturbabant O; flammas V   454 hoc] quo O 459 correxi. VLO Syriam



470

475

480

485

490

495

500

On the Books of Maccabees

37

Tot milibus resistere Fatigati ieiunio “Non est deo difficile” Omnes in nostris manibus Nec est pugne victoria Sed salus est a domino Iudas ut loqui desiit Seron vero perterritus Ante Iudam contriti sunt Nam octingenti subito Et expertes consilii Tunc timor per circuitum Nam narrabantur prelia Eiusque fama nimium

presertim cum nos hodie simus et pauci numero?” respondit istos “tradere si de ipso confidimus. in pugnatorum copia qui potens est in prelio” mox super hostes irruit, tam ipse quam exercitus et plures interfecti sunt. corruerunt in prelio fugati sunt residui. [V:118rb; concussit corda gentium   L:27v] Iude per orbis climata perturbavit Antiochum.

Delerentur reliquie Tunc congregatis copiis Aperuit erarium Sic est exhausta plurima Tributa quoque regia Erant in Antiochia Causa fuit discordie Circumquaque provincie Hinc detrectabant undique Propterea per medium Nam gestiens de Perside Partem sibi dimidiam Committens cuidam Lysie Qui ei fidelissimus Hunc super cuncta regia Iubens ut eius filium Precepit illi etiam Gentis Iudee tolleret Iudeam nationibus Rex iturus in Persidem Et ubique tyrannica Nam cupidus pecunie

moliebatur quomodo de Iudeorum semine. multis belloque strenuis in annum dans stipendium. de thesauris pecunia. tunc temporis permodica dissensionis gratia. quod cogebantur singule leges suas deserere, tributa regi solvere. partitur rex exercitum, tributa sua tollere. retinuit residuam viro de regum semine erat et bello strenuus. constituit negotia enutriret Antiochum. ut penitus memoriam et sorte distribueret Iudeos persequentibus. pertransiit Eufratem ferebatur insania, nulli sciebat parcere.

Rex contristatus animo

[O:93] [L:28]

498–99 Cf. 1 Macc. 12:55. 470 ipso] eo O   471 non VO   478 concussit] percussit O   483 multisque bello O   489 desere V   492 sua] sueta VL   502 vesania O

38

505

510

515

520

525

530

535

540

Electis tribus ducibus Qui Lysie remanserat Ptholomeo, Nichanori, Hi erant amicissimi Qui ducentes exercitum Que sita in campestribus Colligitur preterea Ut partes regis foveat, Mercatores provincie Convenerunt ut emerent Dato pro eis pretio Nam Nichanor et socii Putabant de Iudaici Quem disponebant vendere, Talenta duo milia Iudas sciens exercitum In domino fiduciam Sed vineas plantantibus Et uxores ducentibus Precepit domum regredi Et postquam hi recesserant “Nunc pugnemus pro legibus, Nam mori bello melius Contritionem populi Gorgias sumptis fortibus Venit nocturno tempore Sed Iude res innotuit Et montis per crepidinem Factoque grandi impetu Iuvante dei gratia In fugam versis hostibus Fugientes persequitur Ad terminos Ydumee, At Gorgias diluculo Dum cernit suos fugere Non presumens committere Accipiensque spolia Iacinctum atque purpuram

Eyal Poleg

commendatur exercitus sicut rex disposuerat: Gorgie nam Antiochi et ad bella promptissimi; venerunt usque Ammaum est in Iudee finibus. exercitus de Syria Iudeos bello conterat. cum auri multitudine servosque sibi facerent si fugerent de prelio. iuxta iussum Antiochi captivitate populi tributum posse solvere Romanis pertinentia. applicuisse Ammaum habens processit obviam; domos edificantibus formidolosis omnibus secundum legem Moysi. ait his qui remanserant: pro filiis et fratribus. quam videre diutius templumque dei pollui” bellatorum sex milibus castra Iude percutere. et mox de castris exiit descendit in planitiem, occidit de exercitu virorum tria milia. castra succendit ignibus. itinere quo pergitur Azoti, atque Iamnie. de montis supercilio de castris flammas surgere cepit et ipse fugere. castrorum Iudas omnia aurique multam copiam

[V:118va]

[L:28v]

[O:93v]

531 Cf. Judith 7:3. 508 venerunt … Ammaum] usque ad campum Amaum O   510 colligit V 515 iussa V   525 et] pro O   531 in] per V   535 quod V   538 flammam O



545

550

555

On the Books of Maccabees

Ingenti cum letitia At Lysias ut comperit Anno sequenti validum Ulcisci volens nimiam Et venit cum superbia Confisus manu valida Occurrit illi Machabeus Ceduntur quinque milia In fugam vero reliquus Dum suos de certamine Dum non valet resistere Cum maximo dedecore Collecturus exercitum Iam tristior de proprio Regreditur ad propria

revertitur ad propria. quid Gorgie contigerit congregavit exercitum Gorgie ignominiam. spe fruendi victoria quam adduxit de Syria. cum decem tantum milibus. qui venerant cum Lysia conversus est exercitus. Lysias cernit fugere, Iudeorum audacie, quo venerat itinere et rediturus iterum. quam Gorgie obprobrio succensus ira nimia.

“Proficiscamur socii Ab universis ydolis Quas gentes ibi faciunt Venientes Ierusalem Ornant coronis aureis Prophanatum a gentibus Novumque reedificant Et facta est letitia Intus ponunt candelabra, Foris emundant atria, Muros turresque construunt Et congregant exercitum Prevaleant ulterius

ait Iudas victoribus: mundare templum domini et cunctis inmunditiis et sancta nostra polluunt” decenter templi faciem et ornamentis variis. altare tollunt penitus sollempniterque dedicant. in populo non minima. accendunt luminaria. portas et pastoforia. et montem templi muniunt, ne nationes gentium sicut fecerunt hactenus.

Ubicumque reperiunt Quod ut audivit Machabeus Exivit de Ierusalem Ad Ydumeos properat Ipsi enim peremerant Hos omnes Iudas perdidit; Quod fecerat Ydumeis

quod mons templi munitus est Iudeos interficiunt. pro ulciscendis fratribus et tendens ad meridiem, ut eos interficiat, de Iudeis quos poterant. urbes eorum diruit. hoc fecit Amon filiis,

Tunc effugatis hostibus 560

565

570

575

Ut gentibus compertum est

39

[L:29]

[V:118vb]

[O:94]

[L:29v]

547 Cf. Ps. 30:7, 135:12.   560 Combining 1 Macc. 3:58 with 2 Macc. 10:5. 551 cum O   552 cum O   564 Novumque] domumque O   567 portas et] et intus O   568 montes L

40

580

585

590

595

600

605

610

Nam egerant hostiliter Ut cuncta demolitus est Cui mox de Galadithide Rogant eum ut veniat Et eruat ab hostibus Cuius in audientia Supervenerunt alii Narrant de Ptholomaida Exisse iam ad prelium Qui habitat in omnibus Tunc ait Iudas Symoni: Ad Galileam propera Ego vero et Ionathas Fratres nostros eripere Symon cum tribus milibus Committit atque superat, Expavefactos effugat Cum fratre Iudas altero Discurrit usque Galaad Cum accessisset propius Ad quas Iudei fugerant Cernit gentes innumeras Balistas atque iacula Mox tanquam leo rugiens Occidit primo impetu Virorum octo milia Erat fortis exercitus Quos quotiens aggressus est, Ereptis tandem fratribus Urbes eorum plurimas Ne convalerent amplius Et congregans Iudaici Cum magna multitudine Dei misericordia Ut nec unum de omnibus

Rex interim Antiochus

Eyal Poleg

Amonite similiter. in Iudeam reversus est. allate sunt epistole qui habitabant Galaad iam obsessos in turribus. dum legitur epistola de Galilea nuntii, gentes cum manu valida ut perdant omnem populum Galileorum finibus. “assume partem populi fratresque tuos libera. imus ad partes alias qui sunt in Galadithide” occurrit Ptholomensibus; interficit et sauciat, et Galileos liberat. Iordanis amne transito ut obsessos eripiat. illis munitionibus quos hostes iam obsederant, ferentes scalas machinas ad capienda menia. ignaris superveniens de ipsorum exercitu diripuitque spolia. et dux eorum Timotheus victoria potitus est. et demolitis hostibus turresque munitissimas adequavit solotenus. dispersionem populi venit de Galadithide. potitus hac victoria amitteret militibus.

[V:119ra]

[L:30]

[O:94v]

[L:30v]

dum in Persarum finibus

596 Gen. 31:21. 581 qui V   582 habitant in O   583 et] ut O   588 habitant O   596 Iudas cum fratre alio   Iordane amne transito O   599 quos] quas O   606 egressus L 612 ac potitus L, potitus hac O



615

620

625

630

635

640

645

650

On the Books of Maccabees

Gestit ab Elimaide Que Alexander Macedo Fugatus inde turpiter Vermes de eius corpore Internus dolor viscerum Nam qui multorum viscera Torsit, et ipse tortus est Habebat hic Antiochum Quem commendarat Lysie Sed cum sentiret proximum Philippo collactaneo Versabatur tunc temporis Coronam, stolam, anulum Quod Lysias ut comperit Quem nutriebat iuvenem

aurum vel arma tollere, ibi liquit aliquando, occumbit infeliciter. scaturiebant undique, iuste torquebat impium. per gravia suplicia quoadusque defunctus est. adolescentem filium qui erat Antiochie. instare vite terminum qui in eius collegio curam dedit regiminis: et nutriendum filium. statim regem constituit cognominans Eupatorem.

Machabeus cum exercitu Arcem cum viris impiis Volens eos disperdere Diversis nationibus Quod regi seu Lysie Rex iratus et Lysias De urbibus maritimis Et adducunt de Asia Tam peditum quam militum Et loricatas bestias Elephantos videlicet Venitque per Ydumeam Tunc exiens Ierusalem Et contra castra regia Confestim rex ad prelium Tunc constipantur cunei Et legiones singulas Ferentes turres ligneas Intus magister bestie Triginta duo singulas

et Perside vel Media, obsedit in circuitu qui erant Ierosolimis, qui erant pro munimine Iudeos odientibus. nuntiatur celerrime adsciscunt sibi copias et de diversis insulis; centum viginti milia doctissimos ad prelium triginta duas maximas, ut vel per eos superet. et circumsedit Bethsuram. Iudas direxit aciem sua figit tentoria. preparavit exercitum. per legiones singuli habebant secum bestias et super turres machinas qui novit eam regere. conscendunt viri machinas.

Dum hec fiunt in Asia

41

[V:119rb]

[O:95]

[L:31]

644 Num. 2:3; below l. 752. 623 commendaret L, corr. V   624 instare] adesse O   630 vel] et O   631 cum] om. O   633 pro] in V   635 quo V   636 correxi. adciscunt O, adscacunt V, absciscunt L   637 diversis] universis O   638 adducunt] ad ducem L   641 vel per eos ut O

42

655

660

665

670

675

680

685

Eyal Poleg

Mille quingenti singulis Ne ab eis discederent Qui tegebantur ereis Uve morique sanguinem Ut acuantur bestie Terra movetur sonitu Erat enim exercitus Et resplendebat aureos Tunc invocato domino Se confidenter obicit Eleazar vir nomine Cernit unam de bestiis Ibique regem estimans Dextra levaque proterit, Et se subponit bestie Que moriens occubuit Collecto Iudas agmine Videns virtuti regie

sunt deputati bestiis, quocumque sese verterent loricis atque galeis. apponunt ante faciem cum ceperint committere. tanto propinquant impetu; magnus nimis et validus splendor solis in clipeos. Machabeus periculo et sexcentos interficit. dum fortiter vult agere que preminebat ceteris; et constanter appropians quos obpugnantes repperit, quam perforavit cuspide, et occidentem conterit. recessit a certamine, non posse se resistere.

Sed conclusis in Bethsura Illo tunc anno septimo Compulsi sic inedia Dispositis custodibus Ad montem templi domini Pugnavit multo tempore Defecerat preterea Tam hostibus exterius Tunc nuntiatur Lysie Philippum Antiochie Et dixit regi Lysias: Et locus hic munitus est Philippus Antiochie Quare videtur utile Et his pacatis hostibus Cum Philippo contendere Hic sermo regi placuit, Iuravit eis itaque Sed rupit pactum citius

urbem quidem firmissimam. non erat alimonia sabbatizante populo. relinquunt regi menia. convertens castra citius et locum sanctuarii nec valuit irrumpere. [L:32] ciborum habundantia quam obsessis interius. regressum iam a Perside se regem velle facere. “Habemus escas modicas nec cito capiendus est. parat tibi resistere, cum istis pacem facere poterimus liberius qui te vult regno pellere” obsessis pacem annuit se nichil mali facere. [V:119vb] eiectis his de menibus, [O:96]

Tunc rex obsedit Bethsuram

[V:119va] [L:31v] [O:95v]

656 propinquat V, propinquante O   662 prominebat V   664 reperit O 669 fortissimam O   670 erant O   671 illo] illuc V   672 sic] sunt V 684 paccatis VL   687 eis] ei L; se … facere] et recessit pacifice O



690

Nam pactum pendens nichili Et rediens per Syriam Philippum bello superat

precepit muros destrui. pervenit Antiochiam, et civitatem occupat.

nterea Demetrius Ab urbe Roma rediens Intravit urbem Asie Post reditum Demetrii Interimens Antiochum Tunc Alchimus vir impius Affectans sacerdotium Falsis Iudam cum fratribus Commovit regis animum Rex fungi sacerdotio Et dedit ei comitem Hi duo secum maximum Et missis dolo nuntiis Sed Iude res innotuit Nonnulli tamen Alchimo Dicebant enim apud se: Nequaquam nos decipiet Sed quadraginta protinus Vix evaserunt ceteri Similiter et Bachides Deseviebant pariter Tandem commisit Alchimo Ac deinde reversus est Mox Alchimus auxilia Et veniebant plurimi Quorum fretus auxilio Discurrens multos hominum Ut vidit Iudas Alchimum Crudeliorem ducibus Pro legibus et populo In desertores itaque Nec iam valebat Alchimus Resistere certamine Sed rursus regem adiit

Seleuci regis filius paterna iura repetens in maris sitam littore. exercitus Antiochi transivit ad Demetrium. cum pessimis comitibus perrexit ad Demetrium; accusavit criminibus, in populum Iudaicum. statim concessit Alchimo in omni malo Bachidem. adduxerunt exercitum verbis fantur pacificis. et decipi non potuit. occurrerant de populo, “Cum sit de nostro genere aut mali quicquam faciet” occidit scribas Alchimus hoc scelere perterriti. et ipsius satellites in populum crudeliter, Iudeam cum auxilio ad regem a quo missus est. contraxit sibi de Iuda ex Israel nequissimi per regionem sedulo occidit innocentium. contra leges et populum qui venerant de gentibus, opponit se periculo cepit vindictam facere. Iude suisque fratribus vel populum disperdere, auxiliumque petiit.

I

695

700

705

710

715

720

725

On the Books of Maccabees

43

[L:32v]

[L:33] [O:96v] [V:120ra]

707 Aaron’s seed, which constitutes priesthood (1 Macc. 7:14).   709 1 Macc. 7:16 names 60 murdered. 719 ut] et V   722 cepit … facere] vindictam cepit agere V   723 alchimus] amplius O

44

730

735

740

745

750

755

760

Eyal Poleg

Statim misit Nicanorem Cum magna multitudine Mittuntur a Nicanore Qui dicant Iude nuntii, Et habito colloquio Sed Iudas fraudis nescius Salutaverunt itaque Nec procul hostes aberant Ut Iudam dolo caperent At ille dolo cognito Nec voluit ulterius Denudato consilio Cesisque quinque milibus Fuga salvantur ceteri

rex virum detestabilem Iudeos interficere. quasi sub pacis federe ut occurrat Nicanori conspiciant se mutuo. cum paucis venit obvius utrimque se pacifice. qui propter hoc convenerant et eum interficerent. recessit inde subito videre vultum illius. palam contendunt prelio Nicanoris militibus mortis metu perterriti.

ic superatus Nicanor Et totam multitudinem Sed cum intrasset atrium Iuravit cum superbia Sinon ipsius manibus Post hec exivit de Syon His sacerdotes domini In templi stantes medio “O dominator domine Hoc pessimo Nicanore, Qui domum tuam concite Machabeus interea Applicuit in Adasa Et sic oravit: “dominum Sennacherib rex Rapsacem Cum infinito populo Sed tu misisti angelum Et interfecit ilico Virorum centum milia Et octoginta milia Similiter nunc domine Ut sciant gentes undique Tunc inito certamine A Machabeo reliquus

efficitur crudelior convertit ad Ierusalem. et templi sanctuarium se destructurum omnia, daretur Iudas Machabeus. et venit usque Bethoron. sermonibus perterriti fundebant preces domino: vindictam fac in homine nec cedat ei prospere minatur se succendere” et viri tria milia figens illic tentoria dominatorem omnium, direxit in Ierusalem ut exprobraret domino. qui liberaret populum unius noctis spatio ante lucis exordia necnon et quinque milia. exercitum hunc contere quod non est deus preter te” occisoque Nicanore contritus est exercitus

S

754–59 2 Kgs.19; Sir. 48:20. 751 At add. VL   759 quinque] octo O

[L:33v]

[O:97]

[V:120rb]

[L:34]



765

770

775

780

785

790

795

On the Books of Maccabees

Extincto namque principe Victores autem acrius Et exiebat populus Ac ventilabat cornibus Nec unum quidem hominem Tunc Iudas cepit omnia Pro zelo domus domini Dextram quoque cum humero Evulsam linguam faucibus Caput manum cum humero

ceperunt omnes fugere. instabant fugientibus de viculis et urbibus via diei unius reliquere superstitem. interfectorum spolia. abscidit caput impii et rediit cum gaudio. in escam dedit avibus; suspendit in patibulo.

Quod sint potentes prelio Adquiescentes omnibus Societatis federa, Amicis sint subsidio Quoscumque velint elevent Decrevit amicitie Legati Romam missi sunt Annuitur societas Mandatur ne Demetrius Demetrius ut comperit Tam Alchimum quam Bachidem Iudas cum tribus milibus Qui Bachidis exercitum Ceperunt se subtrahere Octingenti tantummodo Ceperunt tamen dicere: Non possumus committere Sed differamus prelium Respondit autem Machabeus: Absit rem istam facere, Et crimen detestabile Tunc diu decertatum est Et in Modin a fratribus

de Romanorum gloria et providi consilio ab eis postulantibus quod sine avaritia et hostibus exitio, et quos velint humilient. ab eis fedus querere. et honeste suscepti sunt. firmatur per epistolas. Iudeos vexet amplius. quod Nicanor interiit [O:97v] rursus misit Ierusalem. [L:34v] descendit ei obvius cernentes esse plurimum et a castris recedere. dederunt se periculo, “Hoc in presenti tempore cum tanta multitudine. et congregemus populum” [V:120va] “Pugnemus nunc pro fratribus! ne videamur fugere inferre nostre glorie” et Iudas interfectus est sepultus est cum patribus.

anctus papa Gregorius Ioseph et Iudas Machabeus

hinc dicit in moralibus quorum protector dominus

Audit Iudas interea

S

769–73 2 Macc. 15:30–33.   773 Gen. 40:22, prefacing the following digression. 798–810 I was not able to find this excerpt in the Moralia, nor anywhere else. 767 viam O   768 reliquerunt O   772 cum faucibus add. O   774 audit V 786 descendit] occurrit O   793 respondit autem] responditque O   799 et] om. O

45

46

800

805

810

Istius in certamine Sua misericordia Dum ponunt spem in homine Privati sunt continuo Ioseph de domo carceris Pincerna non eripuit Sed delectatus prosperis Qui toto post biennio Machabeo nil profuit Societatis gratiam Nam mox ut his potitus est Est ergo bonum ponere Spem nostram non in homine

et illius in carcere cuncta regebat opera. non in superno numine divino adiutorio: et de manu Phutipharis in quo spem sibi posuit, oblitus est interpretis addictus est suplicio; quod cum Romanis habuit sive pacis concordiam, a Bachide peremptus est. in deo iusto iudice vel in auro Arabie.

ox Iude post exequias Sublimatus in principem Et mille viri Bachidis Eodem vero tempore Interiorem Alchimus Sed voluntate domini Primo quidem obmutuit, Tormento cum durissimo Post mortem eius Bachides Ad regem statim rediit Tunc cepit nomen Ionathe Quapropter quidam invidi “En Ionathas cum fratribus Hic confidenter habitat Tu ergo veni subito Ut una nocte pariter Tunc Bachides secretius Mandavit per epistolas Res est comperta Ionathe, Profectus est in Betbesi Et restauravit diruta Obsessi sunt a Bachide Quos dum non posset capere

frater ipsius Ionathas pugnavit contra Bachidem sunt interfecti gladiis. cepit domum destruere sacerdos impiissimus dissolutus paralisi; nec multo post occubuit iusto satis iudicio. in arce ponens obsides et terra parum siluit. famaque eius crescere. nuntiaverunt Bachidi: remotis procul hostibus et nil de bello cogitat. occultiusque solito comprehendantur leviter” amicis suis omnibus ut caperetur Ionathas. qui mox cum fratre Symone ne traderetur Bachidi ipsius urbis menia. in urbe multo tempore, tractat de pacis federe

M

815

820

825

830

835

Eyal Poleg

[L:35]

[O:98]

[V:120vb] [L:35v]

800 Gen. 39:20–41:45   816–17 In the Vulgate (1 Macc. 9:54) the reference is to the internal walls of the Temple. 801 regebat] reget L, disponit O   802 numine] iudice O   826 hic] sic O 833 instauravit O; dirupta L   835 non] nunc V; mandat V



840

845

850

855

860

865

870

On the Books of Maccabees

Et iurat mali protinus Laxantur nexi mutuo Illos occidit gladio Et exiit celerius

nil se facturum amplius, captivitatis vinculo. quorum venit consilio de Iudeorum finibus.

Hostis quidem Demetrii Quod audiens Demetrius Optat pacem componere Dat potestatem Ionathe Necnon ut arma fabricet Redduntur illi obsides, In arce Ierosolimis Alexander ut comperit Cum Symone vel Ionatha Corona quidem aurea Glorificavit Ionatham, Ut summo sacerdotio Mox bellatorum copias Et fabricari plurima Quod audiens Demetrius Nam fedus amicitie Alexander cum Ionatha Scribamus et nos Ionathe Et dimittamus amodo Quas persolvebat hactenus Ascribantur interea De populo Iudaico Et de expensa regia Concedamus ut ceteri His aliisque pluribus Volebat hos avertere Sed memores iniurie Rex egit multo tempore Ob hoc spreto Demetrio Cum Alexandro mutua Uterque rex exercitum Vi magna decertatum est,

receptus Ptholomaide regnare cepit inibi. tristis nimis ac territus cum Ionatha vel Symone. exercitum colligere et socium se nominet. quos iam regressus Bachides reliquit in custodiis. Demetrius quid egerit [O:98v] misit eisdem munera: veste quoque purpurea. Concessit ei etiam [L:36] fungeretur in populo. coadunavit maximas precepit arma bellica. ait suis: “quid fecimus, anticipavit facere et misit ei munera? et populo provincie prestationes populo in regis rationibus. virorum tria milia qui nobis sint presidio [V:121ra] accipiant stipendia. sint a tributo liberi” promissis rex Demetrius ab Alexandri federe. quam in eorum genere nolebant ei credere. a Ionatha vel populo firmantur pacis federa. preparavit ad prelium. Demetrius contritus est.

Alexander hoc tempore

47

843 1 Macc. 9:70.   861 1 Macc. 10:36 names 30,000. 838 gladio] ilico O   839 scelerius V   845 ut] et O   856 Nam] Iam O   868 rex egit] peregit VL   870 firmarunt V   871 Uterque] iterum O

48

875

880

Et Alexander patrium Nam pater fuit ipsius His Egypto temporibus Et huic erat filia Hanc secum ducens filiam Quam Alexander proprio Profectus est et Ionathas A regibus premaxima Et magna cum letitia

recepit regni solium, illustris rex Antiochus. imperabat Ptholomeus cui nomen Cleopatra. pervenit Ptholomaidam copulavit coniugio. ad Alexandri nuptias. susceptus est cum gloria reversus est ad propria.

A Creta venit insula, Totius dux exercitus Iste dum esset Iamnie “Solus audes resistere In petris et in montibus Veni nunc in planitiem Et videbis quis ego sum Electa sunt a Ionatha Et tollens secum Symonem Obsedit Iopen undique Quos illic Apollonius Captaque Iope exiit, Cui statim Apollonius Fidens innumerabili Sed adiuvante domino Quam plures interfecti sunt In Azotum confugiunt Sed Ionathas cum Symone Urbem templumque pariter Et cesa sunt a Ionatha Ascalonitas denique Et redit cum letitia Hinc Alexander gaudio Eumque statim fibula Et pretiosa munera

paterna morte cognita possedit maris littora. fit quidam Apollonius. mandavit dicens Ionathe: magne nostre potentie. confidis et in vallibus. ut comparemur invicem et qui sunt hi qui mecum sunt” virorum decem milia descendit in planitiem. nec poterant resistere posuerat in menibus. In plano castra posuit cum suis venit obvius [L:37] virorum multitudini. a Ionatha continuo [V:121rb] et reliqui fugati sunt. et Beth Dagon ingressi sunt. ignem succendit undique, vorat flamma celeriter virorum octo milia. coniungit sibi federe potitus hac victoria. repletus est non modico glorificavit aurea misit ei quam plurima.

In Alexandrum pessima De toto regno Asie Ob hoc legatos clanculo

omni plenus perfidia cogitabat consilia volens eum expellere. mittit dicens Demetrio:

Demetrius interea 885

890

895

900

905

Ptholomeus interea

910

Eyal Poleg

[L:36v]

[O:99]

875 rex imperabat add. VL   888 in] ad VL   889 qui sunt] qui sint O   890 Electa] collecta O   895 venit] exit O   897 iuvante O   902 cesi O



915

920

925

930

935

940

945

950

On the Books of Maccabees

“Quod meam dedi filiam Nunc penitet fecisse me Sed federemur invicem Eandem hanc Cleopatram Et placuit Demetrio Quo federe composito Colligitur exercitus Nullamque moram faciens Dispositis militibus Tendebat Antiochiam Alexandro de socero A quo sublata filia Invadit regnum Asie, Ut se delusum comperit Et dimicat cum socero, Et passus hanc iniuriam At socer post victoriam Impositaque duplici Tanto promotus scelere Alexander dum fugeret A Gadiele Arabe Quod mittitur Ptholomeo; Rex Ptholomeus obiit, Et regnavit Demetrius Hic etiam cum Ionatha Videns quod terra siluit Dimisit mox exercitum Antiochenus populus Ad propria redierat Cepit ei resistere Quo rex comperto scelere Ut ei adiutorio Cui missa sunt a Ionatha Dictu quidem mirabile Nam vera est hystoria Ab his in Antiochia Rex ipse liberatus est Post hec alienavit se Nec conservavit pristinam Sed gravi nimis onere Nec putabat ulterius

Alexandro Cleopatram nam me querit occidere. et dabo tibi coniugem quam Alexandro dederam” hec coniugalis pactio confestim a Ptholomeo cuius non erat numerus. per Palestinam transiens in cunctis civitatibus nec rem prodebat cuiquam. nulla fuit suspicio Demetrioque tradita palam fiunt insidie. Alexander infremuit sed superatur prelio confugit in Arabiam. intravit Antiochiam corona suo capiti rex appellatur Syrie. Arabiamque pergeret perit truncato capite sed idem die tertio vitam regnaque perdidit. contritis cunctis hostibus. inivit pacis federa. nichilque ei restitit in locum quemque proprium. ut vidit quod exercitus solusque rex remanserat volens eum occidere. mandavit statim Ionathe in hoc foret negotio virorum tria milia. nec tamen incredibile que hec enarrat omnia. ceduntur centum milia, et civitas succensa est. a Ionatha vel Symone cum eis amicitiam, cepit eos comprimere egere se alicuius.

915 Eandem] Tandem V   940 permanserat V   944 cui] et V

49

[O:99v]

[L:37v]

[V:121va]

[L:38]

[O:100]

50

S

955

960

965

970

975

980

ed erat eo tempore Qui Alexandri filium Hic adversus Demetrium Exivit e vestigio Pugnavit cum Demetrio Post adeptam victoriam Tunc Alexandri filius Ad quem redit exercitus Scripsit et ipse Ionathe Composuit cum Ionatha Fratremque eius Symonem A Tyro usque terminos Tunc perlustravit Ionathas Et cepit urbes plurimas Ascalonite Ionathe Sed Gazenses resistere Que erant in circuitu Obsessam urbem deinde Tandem dederunt obsides Nam rogaverunt Ionatham Relicto fratre Symone In Galileam propere Nam principes Demetrii Cum magna multitudine Cum his committens prelia Habensque multa spolia At Symon arcem Bethsuram Quam tandem captam proprio

vir quidam Triphon nomine nutriebat Antiochum. de regione Arabum cum apparatu bellico. quem superavit prelio. possedit Antiochiam. coronatur Antiochus quem dispersit Demetrius. et fedus amicitie largitus ei munera concessit esse principem qui concludunt Egyptios. regiones maritimas longe vel prope positas. occurrunt honorifice, parant omni conamine. primo succendit impetu coangustabat undique. ut viverent superstites et dedit eis dexteram. qui dux erat provincie recto pergit itinere. in Galilea positi querebant eum perdere. occidit tria milia reversus est cum gloria. obsedit munitissimam, subiugavit dominio.

ost hec direxit Ionathas Ut renovaret pristinas Perlecte sunt epistole, Sic fecit et Spartiatis Romani vel Spartiate Nam captus Ptholomaide Triphon enim vir perfidus Querebat regem perdere

ad Romanos epistolas cum eis amicitias. novantur amicitie. antiquis suis sociis. nil profuerunt Ionathe post brevi vixit tempore. Antiochi nutricius et fieri rex Asie,

P

985

Eyal Poleg

[L:38v]

[V:121vb]

[O:100v]

[L:39]

969 The cities surrounding Gaza (1 Macc. 11:61). 953 Triphon] Seron O   964 concludunt Egiptios] ducunt ad Egiptios V 969 qui V   974 pergit] tendit O   980 dominio] imperio O   984 antiquis] aliquis V 986 post] pro O   987 enim vir] etenim O



990

995

1000

1005

On the Books of Maccabees

Nec ausus est presumere Moliebatur itaque Ut sic regem posterius Et venit usque Bethasan Cui Ionathas fit obvius Et cum venisse validum Tristatur et venisse se Mandavit dicens Ionathe: Ut fatigares populum Dimissa multitudine Daboque tibi munera, Sit tua Ptholomaida Amici sive socii In cunctis tuo amodo His verbis nimis credulus Cum tribus tantum milibus In Galileam postea Cum mille tantum sociis

timore pressus Ionathe. hunc primitus occidere occideret securius. spirans corde malitiam cum quadraginta milibus. vidit Triphon exercitum simulavit pacifice. “Quid voluisti facere cum non sit nobis prelium? cum paucis mecum remane vestes et vasa aurea. et reliqua presidia. omnesque michi subditi obediant imperio” pene dimissis omnibus remansit fraudis nescius. remisit duo milia moratur in tentoriis.

Et intrans Ptholomaidam Mox omnes interfecti sunt At ipse comprehenditur Festinat Triphon deinde Ut Ionathe residui Sed fieri non potuit, Et hostibus resistere At hostes tanta cognita Committere non ausi sunt Illi quidem Ierusalem Narrantes ei omnia

complere Triphon cogitat deduxit secum Ionathan. qui cum ipso ingressi sunt custodieque traditur. in Galileam mittere interimantur socii. nam res eis innotuit constructa parant acie. Iudeorum audacia sed ad Triphonem redeunt. regressi sunt ad Symonem que facta sunt de Ionatha.

ymon defensor patrie Et hoc evento territum “Vos scitis quanta fecimus Patres fratresque pariter Et nunc solus superstes sum, Pro defendendis legibus; Sed vindicabo socios, Quos cogitant disperdere Auditis his sermonibus

surrexit loco Ionathe alloquitur sic populum: pro patria, pro legibus quid passi sunt pro Israel. mori tamen paratus sum nec melior sum fratribus viros, uxores, liberos collecte gentes undique” accensus omnis populus

Tunc scelus quod conceperat 1010

1015

1020

1025

S

51

[V:122ra] [L:39v]

[O:101]

[L:40]

994 et] ut L, corr. O   995 simulatur O   1007 ceperat V   1008 et] om. O 1013 ei L   1017 quidem] vero O   1020 correxi. eventu VLO

52

1030

1035

1040

1045

1050

Elegit sibi principem Triphon a Ptholomaida Adducto secum Ionatha Cui Symon venit obvius Quod postquam Triphon comperit Mandavit dicens Symoni: Pro regis rationibus Sed nunc argentum dirige Ut obsides hos habeam Sed Symonem non latuit Tamen nimis reveritus Sinon argentum redderet Quod causa avaritie Talenta centum reddidit Pater et duo filii Et ablata pecunia Symon autem recognita In Modin secum detulit Et super mortem Ionathe Septem fecit pyramidas Bis binas quoque fratribus Sibi construxit septimam Columpnas circumposuit Ut posset ab hominibus Omni videri tempore

in loco fratrum Symonem. devenit in terram Iuda sed tento sub custodia, ad bellum paratissimus. perterritus extimuit; “Fratrem tuum detinui quas non persolvit hactenus. duosque natos Ionathe reddamque tibi Ionatham” quod Triphon cogitaverit; [V:122rb] ne estimaret populus, et obsides non mitteret mors inferretur Ionathe, natosque eius tradidit. [O:101v] cadunt in ore gladii Triphon redit ad propria. interfectorum corpora et sepulture tradidit. plebs luxit multo tempore. patri matrique singulas expolitis lapidibus, ad eternam memoriam. [L:40v] quas in sublime extulit in mari navigantibus hoc decus memorabile.

Ipsum regem Antiochum Sumptoque diademate At Symon omni tempore Triphonem habens odio Quem Triphon superaverat Dum in Persarum finibus A duce regis Arsacis

non timuit occidere fraudis ipsius nescium. regem se fecit Asie. pro morte fratris Ionathe federatur Demetrio et de regno fugaverat. moraretur Demetrius conicitur in vinculis

Minarum mille clipeum Complacuerunt munera; Scripserunt autem regibus Ne quis Iudeos amplius

Romanis misit aureum novare fedus pristinum. firmatur amicitia. cunctisque regionibus vexaret in aliquibus.

Triphon post mortem Ionathe 1055

1060

1065

Eyal Poleg

Tunc Symon per Numenium

1028 fratris O   1030 sub] in O   1032 Triphon] Symon O   1039 amitteret V 1040 inferetur L, refferretur V; Iuda om B   1041 est om B   1043 de om B 1051 possit O   1060 convincitur V   1064 regionibus] nationibus O



On the Books of Maccabees

S

1070

1075

1080

1085

1090

1095

1100

ymon autem Iudaici In cunctis agens prospere Tandem eiectis omnibus Comminuit simulacra Cui deputans custodiam Adhuc in arce fuerant Transacto multo tempore Sed non sinebat egredi Nec erat eis emere Ob hoc quam plures nimia Urgente fame ceteri Gaudebat ergo populus Hi enim eum maxime Cum hymnis atque canticis Symon arcem ingressus est Tunc circumquaque terminos Nam cepit urbem Bethsuram Similiter et Gazaram, Nec fuit hostis aliquis Qui perturbaret populum Sub vite quisque propria Plantabat quisque vineam Et complacebat populis Nam gentis sue gloriam

dux et sacerdos populi obsedit Gazam undique. urbis habitatoribus et habitavit in ea. perrexit Ierosolimam. quos ibi constituerant [L:41; potentes reges Asie.   V:122va] Symon quemquam vel regredi [O:102] quid licitum vel vendere. consumpti sunt inedia, relinquunt arcem Symoni. depulsis sevis hostibus, gravabant omni tempore. cum cytharis et cymbalis eique dominatus est. dilatavit Iudaicos sitam contra Ydumeam Iopen quoque maritimam. cunctis diebus Symonis ut antea Iudaicum. sedebat aut ficulnea. terram colens fructiferam. potestas iusta Symonis querebat plusquam propriam.

Qui dum esset in insulis Misit ei epistolam Ipsius et auxilium Et placuit pax Symoni Tunc congregans exercitum Construxit naves bellicas Ne mari aliquo modo Post hec cum multitudine At Triphon fugit in Doram Quem obsedit Antiochus Per terram cum hominibus Misit ei preterea Symon cum vasis aureis

Demetrius Antiochum audita fama Symonis requirens amicitiam contra Triphonem pessimum, [L:41v] iuxta verbum Antiochi. Antiochus maritimum aptans in eis machinas Triphoni sit refugio. intravit terram Syrie. civitatem maritimam missis per mare navibus centum viginti milibus. virorum duo milia muneribusque plurimis

Habebat autem filium

1087 Ps. 106:37. 1070 Qui V   1073 regredi] ingredi V   1074 quod V   1098 Syrie] Asie LO

53

54

1105

1110

1115

1120

1125

1130

1135

Eyal Poleg

Que noluit recipere; Legatos in Ierusalem “Si arcem non reddideris Similiter et Bethsuram Continuo disperdam te A regibus possessa sunt Respondit Symon nuntio: Aliena non tulimus Hec nostra est possessio Distributo funiculo Antiocho non reddimus Tunc rex iratus nimium Iussit ire Ierusalem Nolens ipse recedere Triphon tamen navicula Quem fugientem fluctibus At Cendebeus maximum Pervenit usque Iamniam, Tunc Symon dixit filio “Fili vides quod senui; Cum Cendebeo dimica Fac ut fecerunt ante te Ego fratresque hactenus Et dedit nobis dominus Tu quoque non sis degener Et erit tibi dominus Elegit ergo de Iuda Commisit cum Cendebeo Cesis duobus milibus Regressus est Ierusalem

sed rupto pacis federe misit dicens ad Symonem: quam tenes Ierosolimis necnon Iopen et Gazaram, et populum provincie. et mei iuris ista sunt” “Hec dicetis Antiocho: sed propria recepimus. nobis iubente domino a Iosue Nun filio. quod dedit nobis dominus” ducem suum Cendebeum et expugnare Symonem, ne posset Triphon fugere. fugit in Ortosiada persequitur Antiochus. secum ducens exercitum vastare cepit patriam. Iohanni primogenito: tu ergo sis dux populi. fratresque tuos libera. de quorum es progenie. pro patria pugnavimus victoriam frequentius. sed vade fac similiter adiutor et propitius” viginti tantum milia et superavit prelio. Cendebei militibus ad patrem suum Symonem.

Qui dum esset de Iericho Inferre mortem socero Nam Symonis hic filiam Nec erat mala socero Descendit ergo Iericho;

vir Ptholomeus nomine moliebatur clanculo et fungi sacerdotio. habebat tori sociam suspicio de genero. susceptus est hospitio

Erat eodem tempore

[O:102v] [V:122vb]

[L:42]

[S:65ra]

[O:103, L:42v]

1113 Relying on Ps. 77:54, combined with the Book of Joshua. 1105 in] suos O   1107 et] et bos add. V   1108 disperdam te] disperdantem V 1113 distributa VL   1117 possit V   1119 fluctibus persequitur] protinus prosequitur O 1120 nimium VO   1131 et] quem O



1140

1145

In Doch munitiuncula Et cum utroque filio Qui misit viros concite Sed nuntiatur citius Quid Ptholomeus fecerit Et missos a Ptholomeo Iohannis facta fortia In libro sacerdotii

cum Iuda et Matathia. occisus est a genero Iohannem interficere. de patre vel de fratribus vel quid de ipso iusserit occidit omnes gladio. que multa fecit postea eius habentur alibi.

Nam plura pretermisimus Et nostra est intentio Ex his libris ostendere Exortum est a Symone Est et in hoc opusculo In illis voluminibus Que primo quidem facta sunt Unde lectoris animus Nos autem rem ex ordine Ut quod illic implicitum Est aliud preterea Quod tot tam brevi tempore Qui fugarentur prelio Quod tot commissa prelia Nam novem regum subito Anno quippe centesimo Hec incipit narratio Atque septuagesimo Sunt anni hoc in spatio Nunc autem dicunt plurimi Huic nostro similia Qui si nossent preterita

sub brevitate maxima de multis pauca diximus. de symonie vitio quod ab antiquo tempore et post a quodam Iasone. quod attendendum estimo: de quibus hec excerpsimus posterius conscripta sunt, conturbatur frequentius. aggressi sumus scribere hic cunctis sit perspicuum. retinendum memoria fuerunt reges Asie vel interirent gladio, tot interfecta milia. est habita successio. tricesimo et septimo et desinit centesimo quartoque vix explicito. triginta septem numero. preteritorum nescii nunquam fuisse tempora, hec dicerent felicia.

Digesta est hystoria 1150

1155

1160

1165

1170

On the Books of Maccabees

55

[V:123ra]

[S:65rb] [L:43]

[O:103v]

1153–56 Cf. 2 Macc. 6:12.   1164 1 Macc. 1:11.   1166 although 1 Macc. 16:14 gives the year 177. 1149 multa L, corr. O   1156 Inde B   1158 Ut] Et O   1162 interfectorum B 1164 quidem O   1170 explicit add. V; explicit liber secundus. Incipit tertius de septem libris Iosephi add. L

56

Eyal Poleg

Appendix: The Poem and the Books of Maccabees Poem 1–21 21–22 23–26 31–89 90–103 116–31 144–91 192–201 200–13 241–68 269–80 281–353 365–71 372–94 395–434 435–514 515–18 519–70

Macc. i 1:1–11 ii 1:13–16 i 1:11–67 ii 3 ii 4:1–9 ii 1:19–22 ii 4:7–5:3 i 1:17–22 ii 5:12–21; i 1:23–29 i 1:30–67; ii 5:24–6:10 ii 6:18–31 ii 7 i 2:1–6 i 2:15–41 i 2:49–70 i 3:1–41 ii 8:10 i 3:42, 3:56–4:60

Poem 571–613 614–21 622–23 624–91 692–773 774–83 784–97 813–14 814–39 840–907 908–80 981–1018 1019–57 1058–60 1061–65 1066–80 1081–89 1090–1121 1122–47

Macc. i 5:1–54 i 6:1–9; ii 9:1–12 i 3:32–33 i 6:13–6:63 i 7:1–47 i8 i 9:1–19 i 9:28–31 i 9:49–72 i 10 i 11:1–66 i 12 i 13:1–34 i 14:1–3 i 14:24; i 15:18–9 i 13:42–51 i 14:4–12, 14:35 i 15:1–14, 25–41 i 16

The Rabbinic Master Jacob Tam and Events of the Second Crusade at Reims Norman Golb The University of Chicago [email protected] While Odo of Deuil’s account of the Second Crusade is an invaluable source for many aspects of the expedition, it does not actually describe the itinerary of the crusaders through northern France in 1147, with two brief exceptions. First, he wrote that after King Louis had departed with his troops from Saint-Denis, he made “the archbishop of Reims” – that is, Samson – Abbot Suger’s “associate in the administration of the realm” during the king’s absence (in regni cura vobis dedit socium Remensem archiepiscopum). Secondly, that once arrived at Metz, “he found [there] all subject to him voluntarily, as had already been true at Verdun (omnes tamen invenit ex gratia, sicut Vereduno iam fecerat).” These statements, occurring within only a few lines of each other, are sufficient to serve as an indication that, after leaving Saint-Denis, the initial march of Louis’s army first led to Reims. For the period 8–15 June Luchaire, in his Études sur les actes de Louis VII, described two acts written in Reims. (However, the actual dates given may be inaccurate.) With regard to the early phases of the crusade, such as the mustering of various forces in diverse towns and cities, the gradual assemblage of those troops in major centers, and their movement eastward until joining up with Louis’s men at Metz or later at Worms, relatively little has been said by historians except for mention of certain magnates from among the lengthy list of leading northern French and English crusade personalities recorded by an anonymous chronicler and published by Auguste Molinier. Concerning events between the convocation at Étampes of 16 February 1147 and the arrival of King Louis’s army in Worms at the end of June, however, considerably more information can be derived by recourse to a Hebrew source dealing precisely with this period. First of all, however, we may note that Odo, in describing the   Odo of Deuil, De profectione Ludovici VII in orientem, ed. and trans. Virginia G. Berry (New York, 1948), pp. 20–21.   For the route taken by Louis’s army from Reims to Metz, cf. Auguste Longnon’s description (citing Itinerarium Antonini 364) of “la voie directe de Reims [Durocortorum Remorum] à Metz, Divodorum, par Verdun,” Dictionnaire topographique du Département de la Marne (Paris, 1891), p. xxiii. We note in passing the ancient term for Reims, Durocortorum Remorum which, as we shall see, appears in later texts as Civitas Remorum and then further transmutes itself.   Achille Luchaire, Études sur les actes de Louis VII (Paris, 1885), nos. 219 and 221.   Cf. below, n. 30.   Cf. Auguste Molinier in the appendix to his Vie de Louis le Gros (Paris, 1887), pp. 158–59. See also Jonathan Phillips, The Second Crusade: Extending the Frontiers of Christendom (London, 2007), pp. 115–27.



57

Map 1 Proposed Crusader Itineraries to Reims and Worms, 1147 ad



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encampment of Louis’s army at Worms at the end of June 1147, stated that the king “decided to await the venerable Arnulf, bishop of Lisieux, and his Normans and English (cum suis Normannis et Anglis).” This is, of course, an entirely different contingent than the multi-ethnic force that in June of the same year embarked for Portugal and some months later succeeded in conquering Lisbon. Arnulf was the only Norman bishop present at the Vézelay gathering of 1146. Odo’s account might suggest that the English and Norman crusaders first gathered at Lisieux and then under the leadership of Arnulf began their journey eastward to meet Louis’s forces at Worms. Coincidentally, Ephraim of Bonn in his Hebrew chronicle of the Second Crusade described attacks on the Jews of three towns – Carentan, Ham and Sully – whose Hebrew onomastic counterparts may be located in, or around, the Cotentin peninsula. English crusaders disembarking, for example, at Cherbourg and Ouistreham on their way to join Bishop Arnulf and the Norman crusaders in Lisieux would have passed by or near these towns, and the descriptions of attacks upon Jewish communities that took place in 1147 offer no reason to exclude the likelihood of such events taking place in the Cotentin peninsula and nearby at that time. Let us now consider the case of Reims. That crusade forces actually did arrive and camp there on their way eastward has not been, and cannot definitively be, demonstrated from any known Latin source, but may be shown by recourse to the aforementioned Hebrew source. Furthermore, in combination with a variety of other Hebrew text-passages this illuminates the importance of the Jewish community of Reims in the mid-twelfth century and demonstrates the presence there at that time of northern France’s most distinguished Hebrew scholar, the rabbinic master Jacob Tam. Some indication of the importance of Reims for the medieval Champenois Jewry – although during these past few decades apparently a somewhat taboo subject – has already been hinted at in a French historiographical source from the mid-eighteenth century. In the course of a description of Reims by the chanoine Jean Lacourt of that city, he observed inter alia: [the Jews] had a synagogue there, and schools where they publicly taught the Talmud. The Jews of Champagne made a particular study of [this work], and in that respect distinguished themselves more than those of other regions. These Jews of Reims are

 

Odo of Deuil, De profectione Ludovici, pp. 22–23. De expugnatione Lyxbonensi (The Conquest of Lisbon), ed. and trans. Charles W. David, with a new introduction by Jonathan Phillips (New York, 2001).   Ephraim of Bonn in Hebräische Berichte über die Judenverfolgungen während der Kreuzzüge, ed. Adolf Neubauer and Moritz Stern, trans. Seligman Baer (Berlin, 1892), pp. 64 (text), 194–95 (German translation); English translation in Shlomo Eidelberg, The Jews and the Crusaders: The Hebrew Chronicles of the First and Second Crusades (Madison, WI, 1977), pp. 117ff. Cf. Norman Golb, The Jews in Medieval Normandy (Cambridge, 1998), pp. 217ff.  

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the authors of a considerable part of what are called the Tosaphot, i.e. additions or explanations of the [Babylonian] Talmud.

This statement – coming from a well-read priest-historian who resided in Reims several decades before the French Revolution destroyed so many of the country’s archival documents, and who here actually acknowledged without prejudice the intellectual activity of medieval Remois Jews – is one that can hardly be taken lightly. Yet, surprisingly, a review of historiographical literature of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries does not reveal any recognition among scholars, or evidence of documentary investigation on their part, relative either to Jewish learning activity within the medieval Remois community or to any other of its specific characteristics.10 This is so even despite the fact that Hebrew correspondence written by Jacob Tam himself included significant statements that, once brought together and compared with one another, ineluctably point to his residence at Reims, to the specific nature of his activity, and to his presence there at the time of the Second Crusade. Consider, for example, the fact that Jacob Tam’s correspondence actually indicated that he was in the service of the crown, apparently as chief counselor responsible for royal policy towards the Jews of Champagne. He once stated, in a letter responding to legal inquiries by a certain Joseph b. Moses: “Wondrous are you, my teacher R. Joseph … [your] messengers are swift – yet whenever they’ve arrived here, I’m heavily occupied; the work of others is put upon me, as well as abodat ha-melekh.” This Hebrew phrase literally means “labor of (or for) the king,” but in this context should perhaps more freely be translated as “royal duties.”11 On another occasion, Tam wrote in response to queries sent to him by three eminent scholars of Paris, that “if not for the heavy yoke ‘until the wrath passeth over’ and this ruler of mine departs, I would have developed [my answer] more lucidly. My responsibilities, however, have been pressing heavily upon me – perhaps (those individuals) will soon leave …” In this passage, the words translated as “this ruler   Cited in Pierre Varin, Archives administratives et legislatives de la ville de Reims (Paris, 1853), I, Part 2, p. 906; additional details of importance by Varin in MS Reims 1645. 10  For example, Heinrich Gross in his very brief article on Reims in the Gallia Judaica stated that the name of not one rabbinic scholar of this city is known: Heinrich Gross, Gallia Judaica: Dictionnaire géographique de la France d’après les sources rabbiniques, trans. Marc Bloch (Paris, 1897), p. 634. As recently as 1980, an “Inventaire archéologique” compiled by the “équipe de recherche ‘Nouvelle Gallia Judaica’” of the CNRS, while citing statements of Varin relative to the synagogue, cemetery and street of the Jews of Reims, failed to make any mention of a Talmudic academy there, or even of Varin’s citation of Lacourt’s manuscript remarks pertaining thereto: see “Inventaire archéologique,” in Bernhard Blumenkranz, Art et archéologie des Juifs en France médiévale (Toulouse, 1980), p. 370. In published statements of the past quarter-century relative to the Jews of medieval Champagne, one hardly encounters a word about Reims, the focus instead being on Troyes as the well-known home of Rashi, and also upon that most enigmatic of places, on the Aube river close to the town of Arcis, which is the village of Ramerupt, and where – so it continues to be claimed even today – one of the most important French Talmudic academies, said to be presided over by the eminent Jacob Tam himself, was situated at least during the greater part of the twelfth century, if not also beforehand and afterwards. 11  R. Jacob Tam, Sefer ha-Yashar, ed. Shraga Rosenthal (Berlin, 1898), p. 26.



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of mine” are zeh ha-sholet sheli, where sholet probably implied a regional figure, such as a duke or count, rather than the king himself.12 The sixteenth-century tradent Gedaliah b. Yahya wrote of Tam: “I have read in an ancient booklet that [Tam] was a man of great wealth and beloved in the king’s court.” Abraham of Torrutiel (who also wrote in the sixteenth century) likewise stated of Tam that he was “[often] present in the palace of the king of France, who had great affection for him.”13 Moreover, a Hebrew manuscript preserved at Munich (MS 50) contains an account of three questions on biblical themes posed to Tam by a “ruler” (Heb. shilton) of Champagne (Kampanya).14 The term shilton (“ruler”), etymologically based upon the word sholet used by Tam himself, is apparently an allusion to Count Theobald the Great who held the countship of Blois and Chartres from 1102 onward and, from 1125 to 1152, also that of Champagne and Brie – years that coincide with the apogee of Tam’s career. The meeting between the count and Tam may have taken place at the comital court, perhaps in the 1140s, but at all events before the crusade had started to gather substantial levels of support. It appears that King Louis himself was not necessarily often found in Reims; Luchaire in his Actes noted only a visit there some time between January and 22 April of 1139,15 as well as his aforementioned stay there in June 1147 during the initial phase of his crusade journey. Without forced exegesis – such as has been often employed to explain away their significance – these passages indicate that Jacob Tam was a personage who served the government, and that he did so probably with respect to matters pertaining to the Jews in the region in which he resided, namely the county of Champagne. We may reasonably infer that he exercised his political and communal responsibilities at Reims and not elsewhere, for it was that city which was the Champenois seat of the king, peopled by his representatives and officials – and the city whose cathedral, from the time of Pepin onward and throughout the lengthy period of Capetian rule without exception, was the only place where the kings of France were crowned and consecrated. With rare exception the anointing archbishop would figure amongst the foremost prelates of the realm, and when Louis VII departed on crusade with his army, it was the archbishop of Reims whom he appointed as Abbot Suger’s associate in the temporary rule of the kingdom. It was during that same year, 1147, 12  Ibid., p. 59. (In another text, cited below, a count of Champagne is designated in Hebrew as ha-shilton mi-kampanyah.) 13  Gedaliah b. Yahyah, Shalshelet ha-qabbalah (Warsaw, 1877), fol. 24a; Abraham of Torrutiel, in annotation by Abraham Harkavy to Heinrich Graetz, Dibré yemé yisra’el (Hebrew translation, by Saul Phinehas Rabbinowitz, of Graetz’s Geschichte der Juden (Warsaw, 1896)), vol. 6, p. 6. 14  Cf. MS Munich 50 (but also MS 252), and the brief descriptions by Gross, Gallia Judaica, p. 600. A French translation of the three questions and Tam’s response has been published by Rami Reiner, along with his comments, in Héritages de Rachi, ed. René-Samuel Sirat et al. (Paris and Tel Aviv, 2006), pp. 27–39. The author suggests (p. 30) that the count in question “s’agit très certainement de Henri Ièr, devenu Comte de Champagne en 1152 après la mort de son père Thibaut le Grand.” However, the later period of Henry’s countship and his own character as compared with that of Theobald the Great are facts that turn the author’s assertion into something of an overstatement. 15  Luchaire, Études sur les actes de Louis VII, no. 25.

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that Jacob Tam can be found specifically in Reims, as becomes clear from other categories of evidence. The first of these consists of three passages describing an event that has been recorded by French historians but never associated with the correspondence of Jacob Tam – namely the Reims uprising of 1147. To begin with, in his Hebrew answer to a query about a problem of Jewish law received from a certain Aaron b. Joseph, writing apparently from another Champenois city, Jacob stated that he will respond succinctly, even though “your messenger has arrived at a time of troubles, for the chieftains are storming against their lord; your servant [= Jacob Tam] is witnessing it – the city is in an uproar!”16 Secondly, the discussion of the uprising described by Tam, obviously of a serious nature, is augmented by an additional letter of his to another out-of-town correspondent – one whose specific identity, however, remains unknown. Once again responding to a question of Jewish law, this time concerning the ownership of disputed property, Tam offered a relatively terse response, in the end stating that “If not for the fact that our [city] gates are being disrupted by armed troops, I would have gone into greater detail [in this letter of mine] by virtue of the honor due you, if only I were able to do so.”17 Thirdly, although past writers dealing with these two statements have indicated that no such happening in mid-twelfthcentury Champagne is known, precisely such an event took place in Reims at that time. The event is in fact described by Louis-Pierre Anquetil in the second volume of his Histoire de Reims, published in Reims in 1756 – in other words, just as in the case of Jean Lacourt’s literary activity, prior to the French Revolution and its attendant destruction of archival records. By 1138, Archbishop Renaud II of Reims had died, and the townsmen took advantage of the ensuing two-year vacancy to establish a commune, which promptly opposed the proprietary rights and wide authority of the archbishop. A tense struggle ensued between King Louis VII and Pope Innocent II, with consequent instability within the city until, in 1140, Samson of Malvoisin was chosen as the new archbishop and the commune was suppressed.18 Its partisans, however, harbored deep resentments against both the king and archbishop for their roles in interdicting the aspirations of the townsmen. The latter began to express their sentiments. Anquetil writes – precisely under the date of 1147 – that “the partisans of the commune, especially the inhabitants of the St. Remi quarter, revolted.” Making themselves masters of their quarter, “they descended to the city’s center, where the populace joined up with them.” All of them then moved to the cathedral “demanding with great cries ‘justice and vengeance.’” The crowds began mistreating the officials of the cathedral and pillaging their homes and personal property. Anquetil then states:

16  17  18 

Tam, Sefer ha-Yashar, p. 177. Ibid., p. 168. Giles Constable, “The Disputed Election at Langres in 1138,” Traditio 13 (1957), pp. 119–52.



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Finally, troubled every moment by new alarms, and fearing for his own safety against an insolent mob, Samson … sought the prompt aid of Abbot Suger, regent of the realm during the voyage of Louis [VII] … to the Holy Land … Troops were sent to the prelate and the demonstration ceased, due less to their fear of the soldiers than to the exhortations of St. Bernard [of Clairvaux], who became the mediator between the archbishop and the people.19

While early manuscript evidence underlying Anquetil’s very specific description of the uprising apparently no longer exists, its historicity is supported by the only extant eyewitness account, namely the terse descriptions by Jacob Tam. The approximate season of the uprising is not divulged by Tam, but is hinted at by Anquetil’s dating of the event in 1147 and his remark to the effect that, during this time, Suger was serving as regent in the wake of King Louis’s departure on crusade. The events in question would, accordingly, have taken place some time in the summer or autumn of 1147 – that is, when Louis’s forces were well en route to Worms or even Hungary, if not already there. Anquetil’s vivid description of events in Reims in 1147 – echoed by Jacob Tam’s anxious observations – is brought into yet bolder relief by Ephraim of Bonn’s Hebrew account of still another event directly involving Tam that had occurred only a few months earlier, that is, in the spring of 1147. This relates to the description of the attack upon him by crusaders that took place on the second day of the Jewish Feast of Weeks (Pentecost) of that year (8 May 1147), on which date, according to the description by Ephraim of Bonn, “the pilgrims (ha-to`im) from the land of France gathered together (ne’esfu) at RMRW.”20 That description hardly seems like one of a mere band of crusaders taking a by-road and entering a small country village; rather, it implies a large confluence of forces traversing highways and converging on a sizeable city. The Hebrew RMRW of this text obviously answers to the civitas Remorum by which Reims was often designated in the wake of the earlier Latin usage Durocortorum Remorum of the Itinerarium Antonini; and indeed, the medieval Hebrew designation was at times Medinat Remoru, that is, the metropolis of Reims. Ephraim gave a remarkably specific description of the attack. The crusaders broke into Tam’s home, stole all his possessions, and tore up a Torah scroll as well. Then they led him to a field, conspired to murder him if he refused to convert to Christianity, and, in an act of revenge harking back to the travail of Jesus, inflicted five wounds on his head. Tam, however, was able to cry out to a passing nobleman 19  Louis-Pierre Anquetil, Histoire civile et politique de la ville de Reims, 3 vols. (Reims, 1756), 2:291–94. 20  Although the Hebrew word to`im designated those who later on were known as crusaders, in the twelfth century it more precisely translated the term peregrini by which the crusaders were then generally designated; hence the translation “pilgrims” employed in this article. Cf. Benjamin Z. Kedar, “Alcune dimensioni comparative del pellegrinaggio medievale,” in Tra Roma e Gerusalemme nel Medio Evo. Paesaggi umani ed ambientali del pellegrinaggio meridionale, ed. Massimo Oldoni (Salerno, 2005), p. 277.

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who by clever entreaty to the crusaders dissuaded them from carrying out their intention.21 To paraphrase and somewhat develop Ephraim of Bonn’s description, we may infer that, according to him, various crusading bands and forces of the French territories to the north, west and south of Reims, intending eventually to meet up with Louis’s army, first gathered in Reims; it was there that some group among them attacked Jacob Tam. The date of 8 May 1147 is not insignificant, for it pre-dates by a month the time of Louis’s departure from Saint-Denis. Some volunteers may have started to make preparations for the journey eastward even shortly after the Vézelay assembly of March 1146. No doubt Abbot Bernard of Clairvaux’s preaching had influenced them; in his letter to Pope Eugenius III, written in a burst of enthusiasm just after that event, the saintly abbot wrote: “… I proclaimed and spoke, and the number [of crusaders] multiplied endlessly [so that] now towns and castles are abandoned …”22 The actual process of recruitment and provisioning, however, must have taken far longer; in contrast with the words of the abbot, Odo only stated that after the Vézelay proclamation stipulated that they should set out by the end of 1146, “all [the attendees] returned home joyfully (Tandem edicto quod post annum progrederentur, omnes ad sua cum gaudio repedarunt).”23 Thereafter even the original decision to leave by year’s end was changed at the Étampes conclave of February 1147 to the Pentecost season of that year, which fell in June. While Berry is silent regarding the entire period of the march eastward after Étampes and before Metz,24 there seems no evidence to contravene her statement that “In France and Germany crusaders from all parts of the west had been gathering since February and March [of 1147].”25 Abbot Bernard’s description of crusaders multiplying and the abandonment by them of their towns and castles reads, by the available evidence, not so much as a characterization of the Vézelay meeting’s result but rather more as a portrayal of events after the Étampes meeting of February 1147, when actual signs of such activity were recorded: namely, the attacks upon Jewish communities in the spring of 1147 and the gathering of crusader bands at Reims perhaps well in advance of King Louis’s June departure from Saint-Denis. 21 

Ephraim of Bonn in Hebräische Berichte, pp. 64 (text), 195 (translation). “Siquidem annuntiavi et locutus sum, multiplicati sunt super numerum. Vacuantur urbes et castella …” S. Bernardi Opera, ed. Jean Leclerq and Henri Rochais, 8 vols. (Rome, 1957–77), 8:141. The quotation is from Ps. 39:6. 23  Odo of Deuil, De profectione Ludovici, pp. 10–11. 24  Cf. the description of the meeting at Étampes by Virginia G. Berry, “The Second Crusade,” in Setton, Crusades, 1:477–78, which ends with the statement that the assembly “decided to postpone their departure from Easter to June 15” and thereafter returns to Louis and the march east only on p. 487 with the words “Metz had been chosen as the assembly point for the French army.” Berry thereupon named various magnates who gathered there and then continued her narrative with the crossing of the Rhine at Worms on 29 June. 25  Ibid., p. 481. 22 



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The assault on Jacob Tam implies a somewhat anarchic condition in the city – characteristic of crusader-induced behavior during other anti-Jewish attacks that transpired in both French and German cities during the First and Second Crusades.26 The timing of the incident can best be explained as propitious for the crusading band that plotted and carried it out. Already in the previous year Bernard had begun arguing fiercely against attacks on the Jews, and King Louis was deeply under the abbot’s influence.27 It is doubtful that an attack upon such a distinguished Remois personage as Jacob Tam would have been attempted with the king’s own army present in the city – something which was to happen, however, only in June of 1147. With regard to the particular band of crusaders responsible for the attack on Tam, it seems reasonable to suggest that it was one of those coming from an area southwest, or south, or north-west, of Reims. One candidate might have been thought to be the group of English and Norman crusaders who travelled from Lisieux under the leadership of Bishop Arnulf; but Odo, as indicated above, stated that, once arrived in Worms on 29 June, King Louis decided to await the arrival of Arnulf and his men.28 This can only mean that, having started out from an area quite far to the west of Reims, they would have arrived there only some time after the king’s forces had moved on from Reims to Metz. With regard to the date given by Ephraim of Bonn for the attack on Tam, the second day of the Jewish Pentecost, or 8 May, this is more than a month earlier than the departure of King Louis’s troops from Saint-Denis and their arrival in Reims. Ephraim, however, was only a 14-year-old youth in 1147, and he was not present at the French episodes of the Second Crusade; instead, he heard about them from eyewitnesses and recorded his descriptions only afterwards, working them into his martyrological work which dealt mainly with events in his native Germany.29 26 

Phillips, Second Crusade, pp. 80–87. Bernard of Clairvaux, Opera, 8:316. 28  Cf. Odo’s wording relative to the decision made at the Étampes meeting: Inter haec indicitur dies in Pentecosten profecturis et in Octavis undecumque Mettis glorioso et humili principi congregandis (Odo of Deuil, De profectione Ludovici, p. 14) and compare the contradictory statement which follows soon thereafter, viz.: Illo anno in quarta feria Pentecostes edictum accidit; sic regi celebria cuncta succedunt. Dum igitur a beato Dionysio vexillum et abeundi licentiam petiit, qui mos semper victoriosis regibus fuit … (ibid., p. 16). In other words, the decision growing out of the meeting at Étampes is first described as being to the effect that “a day in Pentecost” would be chosen for the departure from SaintDenis while the arrival at Metz was set for “a day in the Octave” (interpreted by Berry to mean 15 June); whereas the latter statement is to the effect that the great crowds gathered at Saint-Denis for the Lendit Fair – which in that year took place “on the Wednesday after Pentecost,” or 14 June – were privileged (as Odo had explained in a prior passage) to behold the king and pope together. Even if the subsequent departure from Saint-Denis took place that same evening, the king and his army could hardly have reached Reims – which by the road system then in place was well over 150 km from Saint-Denis – by 15 June. Odo later states that the king and army were at Worms “on the feast day of the Apostles Peter and Paul” (ibid., pp. 22–23) which took place that year on 29 June. If the travel itinerary Saint-Denis– Reims–Verdun–Worms had been accomplished in approximately four or five days for each phase, the arrival in Reims could have taken place by 19 or 20 June but hardly beforehand. 29  Robert Chazan, “Ephraim of Bonn’s Sefer Zekhirah,” Revue des etudes juives 132 (1973), pp. 119–26. 27 

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Odo of Deuil, on the other hand, connected the king’s departure from Saint-Denis with the Christian Pentecost season of early June of that year, and wrote of the monarch’s eventual arrival at Worms on 29 June; while Luchaire described an act of Louis given between 8 and 15 June at Reims, and another act given at Verdun within that same period.30 Luchaire also stated that Louis was at Saint-Denis on 8 June, and was in Reims, Verdun and Metz only after 8 June; elsewhere he noted that Louis was in Reims already at some time between 8 and 15 June, but also that he would have reached Verdun during that same period.31 The combined statements make it seem likely that Louis had not reached Reims in time to celebrate the actual Pentecost on 8 June, but only that he arrived in Reims during the Pentecost season that followed. It is no more than possible, however, that Ephraim’s informant regarding the attack on Jacob Tam may have inadvertently confused the Jewish Pentecost holiday with the Christian Pentecost season. Be that as it may, it is not likely that English and Norman crusaders were responsible for the Reims attack on Jacob Tam because that would have delayed them even further in reaching Louis’s forces at Worms where they were being awaited. By contrast, Reims was the natural gathering point for crusaders from the towns of Champagne and other regions before they were to move on to Worms by the one direct route available to them: that is, Reims–Verdun–Metz–Worms. Important groups of crusaders had been mustering ever since the February meeting at Étampes and Ephraim of Bonn addressed this directly when he wrote that “the pilgrims from the land of France gathered together at RMRW” – meaning of course that many such groups had gathered there before moving on towards Worms. In addition to their English and Norman peers, the magnates who were likely to have commanded crusade forces travelling towards Worms by way of Reims would have probably included the following: Enguerrand II of Coucy; Ivo of Nesle, count of Soissons; William “the Butler” of Senlis; Count Robert of Dreux; Henry of Blois (son of Count Theobald); Count Reynald of Montargis; Count Renaud of Tonnerre; and Godfrey, bishop of Langres. Starting out somewhat further away, but still likely to have travelled with their men towards Reims first of all, were Count Guy II of Ponthieu and Count Thierry of Flanders, from Ghent.32 During the weeks following Étampes the forces would have begun gathering in the major towns; then, as they set out on their journey, they were increasingly bolstered by other crusader bands; and in the late spring and early summer of 1147 the city of Reims undoubtedly began to swell with many of their numbers while they waited for King Louis to arrive from Saint-Denis with his own forces. It may well be that the band which perpetrated the attack on Jacob Tam was already in Reims by 8 May (the second day of the Jewish Pentecost). Alternatively it is possible that the attack occurred on the Christian Pentecost – 8 June 1147 – but, in this latter case, it would most likely have happened just before the scheduled arrival of King Louis and his army. 30  31  32 

Luchaire, Études sur les actes de Louis VII, nos. 221 and 222. Ibid., pp. 64, 217–18. For further information on these individuals, see Phillips, Second Crusade, pp. 100–101.



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An Additional Observation on the Remoru/Reims/Ramerupt Conundrum Many writers during the past century and a half have interpreted RMRW as referring to the southern Champagne village known as Ramerupt – hardly a likely gathering place for large crusader contingents. It must be emphasized that those writers show no evidence of having known that Reims was often designated as Civitas Remorum in the Middle Ages. The Hebrew term should simply be pronounced Remoru (with characteristic apocopation of the case ending) rather than Rameru. In his Gallia Judaica, Gross states that “Après la mort de Raschi, le petite localité de Ramerupt resta pendant plus d’un demi-siècle le centre le plus important de la science juive dans la France septentrionale,”33 but there is no cogent onomastic or archaeological basis for this broad assertion. The “équipe de recherche ‘Nouvelle Gallia Judaica’” states that Ramerupt “avait une synagogue,” but then, referring to Henri d’Arboisde-Jubainville, Histoire des ducs et des comtes de Champagne 4/2 (Paris, 1865), p. 833, adds: “extrapolation de l’auteur [= d’Arbois-de-Jubainville] qui ne peut s’appuyer sur des texts, mais déduit l’existence d’une synagogue du fait qu’il y avait des maîtres juifs fameux à Ramerupt.”34 This last assertion, too, has no bona fide textual foundation; all of the so-called “masters of Ramerupt” were, by the available onomastic evidence, rabbinic scholars situated at Reims.

33  34 

Gross, Gallia Judaica, p. 635. “Inventaire archéologique,” in Blumenkranz, Art et archéologie, p. 370, s.v. Ramerupt.

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Gerusalemme crociata e le immagini sacre: exempla, notazioni estetiche e accenti devozionali nelle fonti medievali Giuseppe Marella Università del Salento [email protected] Summary The written sources for the crusades usually show little interest in the religious art of the Holy Land. These texts suffer from an attitude that was widespread in contemporary monastic culture, which, while accepting the validity of these artistic images as a teaching tool, believed they might be a source of distraction. However, there are valuable exceptions that reveal much information about the iconographic programmes of the crusader churches – much of which has been lost – and that shed light on the peculiar contemporary artistic fruition in the Latin East. Pilgrims and crusaders lived their experience “ad Limina” as a total sensory immersion in the Holy Places, to the point of repeating mimetically the actions of the holy personages in their original contexts. Their hermeneutical skills were amplified compared with the normal faithful as they understood, for example, the very difficult doctrinal and political meanings of the mosaics of the Basilica of the Nativity in Bethlehem or of the frescoes in the Cenacle on Mount Sion. Among others, the pilgrims John of Würzburg and Theodoric were excellent commentators who offered valuable insights on certain images that were the objects of veneration, and who dwelled with pleasure on the details of certain unusual iconographic paintings.

Per una serie di circostanze, le fonti medievali di pellegrinaggio risultano alquanto laconiche riguardo ai fatti artistici di Terra Santa. Gli Itineraria, notoriamente, focalizzano l’attenzione sul tragitto – assi viari, imbarchi e rotte marittime – e sui percorsi urbani che collegavano i santuari della Città Santa. Nelle Descriptiones i cronisti si aprono più volentieri agli spunti personali, e non mancano, passando in rassegna i monumenti, di soffermarsi sulla loro antichità, sulla frequentazione dei fedeli e sulle reliquie venerate all’interno. In alcuni casi appaiono anche brevi note sulla loro conformazione architettonica, ma molto di rado, purtroppo, si fa cenno alle decorazioni pittoriche. Il presente studio riprende alcune linee tracciate in Giuseppe Marella, Il pellegrinaggio in Terrasanta nelle immagini artistiche pugliesi medievali, Tesi di Dottorato di Ricerca in “Storia dei Centri, delle Vie e della Cultura dei Pellegrinaggi nel Medioevo Euromediterraneo,” relatore prof.ssa Silvia Maddalo, Università degli Studi di Lecce, Anno Accademico 2005–2006. Desidero ringraziare il dott. Cristian Guzzo per i preziosi consigli.

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Le ragioni di tale evasività, probabilmente, sono da ricondurre alla critica latente nella cultura medievale, a quel noto filone di pensiero che mortificava l’interesse per le immagini sacre imputandogli la distrazione dello spirito. Solo a partire dal XIV secolo, del resto, i cronisti daranno più spazio alle impressioni personali, e inizieranno a manifestare il piacere tutto nuovo di visitare il mondo e di entrare in contatto con culture diverse. Non mancano tuttavia significative eccezioni. Già al principio del XII secolo, l’inglese Sevulfo e l’igumeno russo Daniele lasciano notazioni più estese, che permettono di cogliere le prime trasformazioni dei monumenti dopo l’arrivo dei crociati. Ma sono soprattutto le celebri relazioni di viaggio di Giovanni di Würzburg e Teoderico, i due religiosi tedeschi giunti in Oriente rispettivamente verso il 1160 e il 1169, ad entrare nei particolari. Non a caso, al termine della sua descrizione del Templum Domini, il primo sottolinea compiaciuto come difficilmente altri ne avrebbero compilato una più dettagliata. Le loro Descriptiones si rivelano inoltre dottamente argomentate e ricche di tratti impressionistici, in sintonia col pensiero del celebre Suger di Saint-Denis, secondo il quale erano in particolare le persone colte in grado di apprezzare al meglio le opere d’arte. Esse risultano pertanto preziose per ricostruire le pitture monumentali, oggi in gran parte scomparse, e per approfondire i modi percettivi delle immagini sacre in coloro che vivevano l’esperienza ad Limina, i pellegrini medievali. E’ necessario, ad ogni modo, tratteggiare un discorso globale e sfaccettato, che ponga le loro testimonianze in parallelo ad altre fonti scritte e tenga conto dei modi e dei comportamenti che concretizzavano l’esperienza devozionale dei pellegrini in Terra Santa. Esegesi iconografica Già all’indomani della conquista crociata, e fino alla definitiva espulsione dei crociati con la capitolazione d’Acri del 1291, tutto il regno di Gerusalemme divenne un immenso cantiere, volto a marcare sul territorio la nuova stagione politica. I   Jean Wirth, L’image médiévale. Naissance et développements (VIe–XIe siècle) (Paris, 1989); Daniele Menozzi, Les Images. L’église et les arts visuels (Paris, 1991); Jean Wirth, “Il culto delle immagini,” in Arti e Storia del Medioevo 3: Del vedere: pubblici, forme e funzioni, ed. Enrico Castelnuovo e Giuseppe Sergi (Torino, 2004), pp. 3–47; Conrad Rudolph, “La resistenza all’arte nell’Occidente,” in Arti e Storia del Medioevo 3, pp. 49–84.   Paolo Caucci Von Saucken, “Le distanze dei pellegrinaggi,” in Spazi, Tempi, misure e percorsi nell’Europa del Bassomedioevo. Atti del XXXII convegno storico internazionale (Todi, 8–11 ottobre 1995) (Spoleto, 1996), pp. 310–11.   Johannes Wirziburgensis, in Peregrinationes tres, ed. Robert B. C. Huygens, CCCM 139 (Turnhout, 1994), pp. 79–138, e Theodericus, in Peregrinationes tres, pp. 142–97.   Johannes Wirziburgensis, ll. 440–41, p. 96: “Haec descriptio prefati Templi et adiacentis loci sufficiat: pociori non invidemus.”   Conrad Rudolph, “La resistenza all’arte,” p. 81.



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committenti latini ingaggiarono in Occidente e in Oriente maestranze tra le migliori, che si cimentarono nei palazzi cittadini dei principi, nelle strutture difensive e soprattutto nelle fabbriche ecclesiastiche. Accanto agli antichi edifici sacri, che furono accuratamente ristrutturati e decorati, in tutti i luoghi delle Scritture sorsero nuovi monumenti, a memoria di ogni evento biblico specifico. Ne risultò infine una topografia sacra a maglia stretta, che catalizzava l’interesse dei pellegrini e ne indirizzava gli spostamenti sul territorio. Riconoscendo l’eccellenza delle rispettive tradizioni, le maestranze occidentali furono impegnate soprattutto nelle strutture architettoniche e negli apparati scultorei, mentre quelle bizantine – o di formazione bizantina – nei rivestimenti musivi e pittorici in genere. Gli studi pioneristici del Novecento, incentrati sulle architetture e segnati da una chiara impostazione franco-centrica, avevano inizialmente ricondotto la produzione del regno Latino di Gerusalemme entro l’alveo del romanico francese. Negli ultimi decenni, l’emersione di brani musivi e pittorici occultati dagli intonaci musulmani e l’analisi sistematica condotta su codici, icone e oggetti suntuari sparsi nelle collezioni pubbliche e private di tutto il mondo hanno evidenziato meglio gli apporti bizantini e locali. Tutti i fattori si presentano in una combinazione sempre mutevole, però, tanto che la definizione di “arte crociata” oggi prevalente è volta a sottolineare la temperie sperimentale ed estremamente fluida in cui vennero alla luce le opere piuttosto che una cifra stilistica comune. Nel XII secolo, infatti, il continuo interscambio tra i cantieri e il contatto con la tradizione locale resero tutte le maestranze, bizantine e occidentali, estremamente permeabili agli influssi reciproci e alle contaminazioni. Col passare del tempo le loro matrici originarie si stemperarono o finirono col fondersi negli artisti più giovani che avevano goduto di un apprendistato diversificato; pertanto, anche nei in casi in cui è possibile rintracciarle, risulta forzoso giustapporle. Negli ultimi decenni, a partire dagli anni ’60 del Novecento, gli studi hanno approfondito anche gli assetti iconografici. I risultati scaturiti da questo filone di ricerca, stimolante e ancora ricco di aspetti da indagare, hanno evidenziato una   Vedi Bianca Kühnel, Crusader Art of the Twelfth Century (Berlin, 1994); Jaroslav Folda, Crusader Art: The Art of the Crusaders in the Holy Land, 1099–1261 (Aldershot, 2008), che sintetizza i numerosi contributi dello studioso. Per l’architettura sacra si veda in particolare Bianca Kühnel, “L’arte crociata tra Oriente e Occidente,” in Le Crociate. L’Oriente e l’Occidente da Urbano II a San Luigi, 1096– 1270, Catalogo della Mostra, ed. Monique Rey-Delqué (Roma, 1997), pp. 343–44; Denys Pringle, The Churches of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem: A Corpus, 3 vols. (Cambridge, 1993–2007).   Sul dibattito storiografico, Lucy-Anne Hunt, “Art and Colonialism: The Mosaics of the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem (1169) and the Problem of ‘Crusader’ Art,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 45 (1991), pp. 69–72; Jaroslav Folda, “East Meets West: The Art and Architecture of the Crusader States,” in A Companion to Medieval Art: Romanesque and Gothic in Northern Europe, ed. Conrad Rudolph (Oxford, 2006), pp. 488–509.   Recentemente si è sottolineato come nel XIII secolo, al tempo delle icone del monastero di Santa Caterina sul Sinai, “in a Crusader workshop we normally have not ‘Italian and French artists working side by side,’ but Crusader artists working side by side, although obviously they may reflect different artistic traditions in their backgrounds and training …”: Jaroslav Folda, “The Figural Arts in Crusader Syria and Palestine, 1187–1291: Some New Realities,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 58 (2004), p. 321.

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continua e pervasiva istanza comunicativa, che non si esauriva nella figurazione ma invadeva talvolta anche la sfera propriamente decorativa. Un caso emblematico in tal senso è costituito dalla facciata meridionale della Chiesa del Santo Sepolcro a Gerusalemme, divenuta nel 1150, dopo un’impegnativa compagna di lavori, il nuovo prospetto principale. L’attuale doppio portale ad archi acuti era in origine arricchito da un mosaico con la Madonna e il Bambino, nel timpano occidentale, e da due preziosi architravi, scolpiti l’uno con scene cristologiche, l’altro con creature mitologiche e fantastiche, affini alla coeva scultura provenzale e oggi al Rockefeller Museum di Gerusalemme. Soprattutto alla variegata decorazione, però, era demandato il messaggio fondamentale: “to announce to the Christian approaching his most holy site: to paraphrase the prophet Isaiah (Is. 56:7), this is a house of prayer for all Christian people.”10 L’abbraccio ecumenico principiava nelle spolia romane della cornice marcapiano a ovuli e dentelli, che alludevano alle origini costantiniane del complesso; continuava nelle spirali fogliate e nei cespi a “hood molding” sui due arconi, tipici delle tombe cristiane siriache dei primi secoli, che richiamavano il restauro della Tomba di Cristo appena terminato dai crociati; nei capitelli del portale, bizantineggianti, riflesso dei restauri di Costantino Monomaco del X secolo; nei grodoni “islamici” o armeni degli archivolti, che ammiccavano alle etnie orientali presenti nel regno. La decorazione romanica sul fregio del piano superiore, infine, celebrava l’antica patria dei conquistatori. I principali fruitori dell’arte sacra, gli stanziali ed i pellegrini che giungevano da tutti gli angoli della cristianità, godevano indubbiamente di una capacità ermeneutica superiore, affinata dall’esperienza liminare. Essi erano ad esempio in grado di comprendere i significati dottrinali sottilissimi e i messaggi politici nei mosaici della basilica della Natività a Betlemme, realizzati negli anni ’60 del XII secolo e oggi in gran parte scomparsi. Qui, per volontà dell’imperatore bizantino Manuele Comneno, gli artisti avevano sviluppato un programma iconografico incentrato sulla doppia natura di Cristo: nella zona orientale era richiamata la natura umana, grazie alla Vergine Platitéra nell’abside principale, all’Annunciazione sull’arco absidale ed al ciclo delle Feste nel bema; in controfacciata, invece, l’aspetto divino era glorificato dall’Albero di Iesse, un soggetto tipicamente occidentale. Lungo la navata mediana, a separare i due poli figurativi, comparivano le iscrizioni con le determinazioni della Chiesa in merito alla dibattuta questione cristologica, assunte   Nurith Kenaan-Kedar, “Gli architravi della chiesa del Santo Sepolcro a Gerusalemme,” in Le Crociate, pp. 286–90; Jaroslav Folda, The Art of the Crusaders in the Holy Land, 1098–1187 (Cambridge, 1995), p. 240. 10  Jaroslav Folda, “Problems in the Iconography of the Art of the Crusaders in the Holy Land: 1098–1291/1917–1997,” in Image and Belief: Studies in Celebration of the Eightieth Anniversary of the Index of Christian Art, ed. Colum Hourihane (Princeton, 1999), pp. 14–15. Per gli architravi, affini stilisticamente alla scultura provenzale e toscana coeva, vedi Kenaan-Kedar, “Gli architravi della chiesa del Santo Sepolcro a Gerusalemme,” pp. 286–90, e Jaroslav Folda, The Art of the Crusaders in the Holy Land, p. 240.



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nei concili ecumenici – sulla parete meridionale – e in quelli provinciali – sulla parete settentrionale –. Si è ipotizzato che nelle due serie di scritte i fedeli coglievano forse il riverbero del manifesto antieretico del concilio del 1166, indetto da Manuele Comneno per dirimere le controversie teologiche tra ortodossi, latini e monofisiti;11 o ancora che nel testo relativo al concilio di Nicea II, in latino anziché in greco come tutti gli altri, apparisse una concessione imperiale alla Chiesa latina ed un invito a riprendere un cammino comune – interrotto proprio a Nicea –, in un periodo caratterizzato da buoni rapporti.12 Va rimarcato che, al di là delle declinazioni suggerite dall’acribia degli studiosi, il percorso semantico si sviluppa comunque all’interno di una dimensione pienamente cristologica, in cui “i profeti testimoniano della divinità del Messia e la lunga serie degli antenati affermano la sua umanità, la Chiesa nelle sue assisi solenni proclama a sua volta l’umanità completa di colui che nacque a Betlemme.”13 Le immagini figurative, al pari delle altre manifestazioni monumentali, attestavano visivamente i nuovi assetti politici, ponendosi come il marchio distintivo dei nuovi dominatori franchi rispetto al mondo islamico che erano riusciti a scalzare, e alla comunità ebraica residente. Campagne decorative grandiose furono approntate nelle moschee della Spianata riconvertite al culto cristiano, l’al-Aqsa, divenuta il Templum Salomonis sede dei Templari, e la Cupola della Roccia, talvolta considerata erroneamente la ricostruzione costantiniana del tempio di Salomone e chiamata Templum Domini. Una chiara volontà di affermazione politico-religiosa, più che un impulso devozionale, è percettibile già nella rimozione degli intonaci musulmani che coprivano gli affreschi della basilica di San Pietro ad Antiochia, ordinata dal vescovo di Puy appena conquistata la città nel giugno del 1098. Scrive Alberto di Aquisgrana: episcopus Podiensis et ceteri principes, … basilicam beati Petri apostoli quam Turci suis sacrilegis ritibus prophanaverant, ab omni inquinamento mundantes, altaria sancta que subversa erant in omni honestate reedificaverunt, imaginem vero Domini nostri Iesu Christi et figuras sanctorum quas in modum viventis personae excecatas et cemento obductas obscuraverant summa reverencia renovabant.14

Le fonti ebraiche e musulmane, tradizionalmente iconoclaste, non lesinarono condanne nei confronti della proliferazione delle immagini sacre e della venerazione 11 

Hunt, “Art and Colonialism,” pp. 78–83. Maria Andaloro, “Dalla Terrasanta alla Sicilia,” in Il cammino di Gerusalemme. Atti del II Convegno Internazionale di Studio (Bari-Brindisi-Trani, 18–22 maggio 1999), ed. Maria Stella Calò Mariani (Bari, 2003), p. 468. Vedi anche Maria Raffaella Menna, “Immagini e scritture nei mosaici della chiesa della Natività a Betlemme,” in Il cammino di Gerusalemme, pp. 647–58; Maria Andaloro, “Bisanzio e il Mediterraneo,” in Il Mediterraneo e l’arte del Medioevo, ed. Roberto Cassanelli (Milano, 2000), pp. 195–217. 13  Louis H. Vincent and Félix-Marie Abel, Bethléem: Le Sanctuaire de la Nativité (Paris, 1914), p. 154. 14  AA, p. 338. 12 

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di cui godevano presso i cristiani. Il rabbino europeo Samuel bar Samson, in Terra Santa verso il 1210, esprime viva riprovazione per la presenza della basilica dell’Ascensione sul Monte degli Ulivi. Nota compiaciuto il religioso ebreo come quella terra sacra, che già Giosia aveva purificato dagli altari idolatrici di Salomone (I Re 11:7 e II Re 23:13–15), non avesse tollerato la presenza dell’edificio cristiano, tanto da averlo già in precedenza fatto crollare assieme a tutte le statue realizzate dai crociati.15 Analoghi accenti si rintracciano tra i musulmani, che pur mostravano talvolta di saper apprezzare gli elementi decorativi e di intendere il significato dei mosaici bizantineggianti. Imâd al-Din al Isfahani e lo sceicco Usama ben Mundiqh, due importanti personaggi del XII secolo, rimangono scandalizzati dalle immagini di maiali – animali immondi secondo il Corano – e della Vergine col Bambino all’interno della Cupola della Roccia, eretta nel punto in cui Maometto era asceso al cielo.16 Come è facile intuire, i musulmani inorridivano soprattutto dinanzi alla plastica figurativa tridimensionale di marca occidentale. Di contro, in campo cristiano, le immagini sacre erano tradizionalmente molto apprezzate. I pellegrini erano già avvezzi a contemplarle nei loro paesi, e tra essi i religiosi, familiari all’esegetica delle Scritture, riuscivano ad interpretarle con maggiore immediatezza. In Terra Santa, ad ogni modo, il riconoscimento era facilitato dal fatto che ogni monumento sorgeva nel luogo di un preciso avvenimento scritturale, e ne tramandava la memoria soprattutto grazie alle pitture contenutevi. I libretti di Giovanni di Würzburg e di Teoderico, come detto, risultano preziosissimi per la ricostruzione dei programmi iconografici crociati, in gran parte scomparsi. Giovanni descrive accuratamente molte decorazioni monumentali e riporta oltre quaranta iscrizioni latine poste a corredo. I soggetti iconografici su cui si sofferma risultano ovviamente legati al luogo: a Gerusalemme, nella Cappella del Cenacolo – all’interno della chiesa di Santa Maria sul Monte Sion, sorta sulla casa che ospitò gli Apostoli –, egli vede dipinte la Lavanda dei piedi, l’Ultima Cena, l’Incredulità di S.Tommaso e la Pentecoste.17 Il Riposo degli Apostoli, scena insolita legata alla veglia di Cristo prima dell’arresto, era visibile nella caverna interna di una piccola cappella nella valle di Giosafatte, edificio prossimo alla chiesa della Tomba della Vergine; la Coronazione di spine era dipinta in una cappella minore “ante pretorium in loco quodam flagellatur, alapis ceditur et conspuitur, veste rubea induitur, spinea corona pungitur … .”18 Nel Santo Sepolcro, i mosaici con la Passione di Cristo si dispiegavano nel piano superiore della Cappella del Calvario, inglobata 15  Itinerary of Rabbi Samuel Ben Samson in 1210, ed. Elkan N. Adler, in Jewish Travellers: 801– 1755 (London, 1930), p. 104. 16  Carole Hillenbrand, The Crusades: Islamic Perspectives (Edinburgh, 1999), pp. 285–91. 17  Johannes Wirziburgensis, ll. 843–54, pp. 113–14; ll. 1038–42, p. 121; ll. 1178–89, pp. 126– 27. Vedi Hugh Plommer, “The Cenacle on Mount Sion,” in Crusader Art in The Twelfth Century, ed. Jaroslav Folda (Oxford, 1982), pp. 139–66; Pringle, Churches, 3:261–87 (no. 336). 18  Johannes Wirziburgensis, ll. 866–72, p. 114, per la pittura nella valle di Giosafatte: Denys Pringle, “Crusader Jerusalem,” Bulletin of the Anglo-Israel Archaeological Society 10 (1990–91), pp. 105–13; ll. 919–33, pp. 116–17, per la Coronazione ancora sul Sion: Pringle, Churches, 3:93–97 (no. 289).



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nel complesso; il mosaico con la Discesa nel Limbo era visibile nel soffitto del Coro dei Canonici, il corpo aggiunto all’Anastasis durante i rimaneggiamenti crociati.19 Da Giovanni di Würzburg sappiamo inoltre di casi in cui l’arte figurativa era svincolata dal contenitore architettonico. A Gerusalemme, ad esempio, era molto celebre e venerata un’icona della Vergine allattante il Bambino, disposta all’aperto in una strada, nel punto in cui la tradizione voleva fosse accaduto realmente il fatto.20 Teoderico fu in Terra Santa circa un decennio dopo. Si è ipotizzato che fosse un monaco proveniente anch’egli dalle terre germaniche, e che la “veraci relatu cognita” da cui si dichiara influenzato fosse proprio la Descriptio di Giovanni di Würzburg.21 Infatti, non solo Teoderico riprende da Giovanni il gusto di riportare le immagini sacre e trascrivere le epigrafi, ma colma, sembrerebbe in maniera intenzionale, le lacune e le zone d’ombra lasciate del suo conterraneo. La sua relazione ci restituisce la coeva veste musiva all’interno dell’Anastasis, di cui sopravvive la monumentale Ascensione dell’XI secolo, oggi conservata nella Cappella francescana del Calvario. Dal confronto con le testimonianze precedenti, inoltre, è possibile delineare una cronologia dei vari interventi. Agli albori del XII secolo nel santuario principale della cristianità erano visibili esclusivamente i mosaici bizantini realizzati nel 1042–48, nell’ambito dei restauri ordinati l’imperatore Costantino Monomaco per risarcire le distruzioni del califfo al-Hakim. Narra l’igumeno russo Daniele, giunto nel 1106–7: The Church of the Resurrection is of a circular form having twelve monolithic columns and six pillars. Its floor is made of beautiful marble slabs. It has six entrances and tribunes with 12 columns. Lively mosaics of the holy prophets are under the ceiling, over the tribune. The altar is surmounted by a mosaic image of Christ. In the main altar one can see the mosaic of the Exaltation of Adam. In the apse the Ascension of Christ. The Annunciation occupies the two pillars next to the altar. The dome of the church is not closed by a stone vault but is made up of wooden beams in a truss form.22

Circa settant’anni dopo, Teoderico trova ancora i mosaici dei profeti, di Cristo e dell’Annunciazione, e ammira gli altri realizzati nel frattempo. All’interno della rotonda dell’Anastasis, che nel linguaggio architettonico gli ricorda non a caso

19  Johannes Wirziburgensis, ll. 987–89, p. 119: “Eadem pars superior [della Cappella del Calvario] † optimo musivo opere † pulchre depicta contenitur passio Christi et eius sepultura, cum prophetarum testimonio gestae rei hinc inde consono”; per il mosaico del Coro dei Canonici, ibid., ll. 1070–75, p. 122. 20  Johannes Wirziburgensis, ll. 1423–30, p. 137. 21  Theodericus, in Peregrinationes tres, pp. 27–31. L’importanza dell’opera di Teoderico in Christine Sauer, “Theoderichs Libellus de locis sanctis (ca. 1169–1174). Architekturbeschreibungen eines Pilgers,” in Hagiographie und Kunst. Der Heiligenkult in Schrift, Bild und Architektur, ed. Gottfried Kercher (Berlin, 1993), pp. 213–39. 22  Abbot Daniel, Pilgrimage of the Russian Abbot Daniel in the Holy Land, trans. Charles W. Wilson, PPTS 4 (London, 1897), p. 11.

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la cappella palatina di Aquisgrana che doveva essergli familiare, nota la cimasa circolare inferiore coperta di iscrizione greche: Ipsa vero ecclesia quadratis columpnis octo, que vocantur “pilaria,” et XVI rotundis columpnis de uno lapide existentibus inferius sustentatur, superius vero, quoniam inferius et superius sicut ecclesia Aquisgrani testudinata est, octo similiter pilariis et XVI columpnis fulcitur. Cimatium inferius, quod per totam ecclesiam circulariter traductum est, Grecis literis descriptum est per totum.23

Tra i mosaici Teoderico elenca subito con precisione quelli sul tamburo traforato della volta, iniziando proprio da quelli già descritti da Daniele: in asse con la porta di collegamento col Coro dei Canonici – sorta al posto dell’abside Est e dell’altare visti dal russo – ritrova il fanciullo Gesù rappresentato sino all’ombelico, “splendido nel suo piacevolissimo aspetto,” e di cui sa riconoscere la vetustà; ai suoi lati, la Vergine Annunziata a sinistra e l’arcangelo Gabriele Annunziante a destra: Spatium vero muri quod medio atque superno cimatio interiacet, musivo opere incomparabili specie prefulget, ubi in fronte chori, id est supra arcum sanctuarii, eodem quidem opere sed antiquo, puerili et gratissimo vultu puer Iesus refulgens umbilicotenus cernitur esse depictus, ad sinistram vero ipsius mater, ad dextram autem Gabriel archangelus, illam notam depromens salutationem: Ave Maria gratia plena, dominus tecum, benedicta tu in mulieribus et benedictus fructus ventris tui: hec salutatio tam latine quam grece circa ipsum dominum Christum descripta est.24

Lungo la stessa fascia muraria, più distanti, Teodoro vede raffigurati verso destra i dodici Apostoli con le eulogie relative ai misteri di Cristo, poi ancora l’imperatore Costantino e l’arcangelo Michele; alla sua sinistra, infine, la serie dei dodici Profeti con i vaticini sulla nascita del Messia – gli stessi di Daniele – e sant’Elena, assiale a suo figlio.25 Entrando nella Santa Edicola, esattamente nella Cappella dell’Angelo, il religioso ammira sulla porta antistante la camera sepolcrale il mosaico con la Deposizione nella Tomba e, accanto, quello con le Pie Donne al Sepolcro “cum aromatum vasculis, supersedente etiam angelo ipsi sepulchro et lapidem revolvente atque dicente: ecce locus ubi posuerunt eum.”26 Preciso è anche il riconoscimento iconografico dei mosaici nella Cappella del Calvario. Sulla volta egli nota “i Profeti, cioè David, Salomone, Isaia, e alcuni altri, portanti nella propria mano delle iscrizioni relative alla Passione di Cristo.”27 A sinistra dell’altare egli vede un’immagine del Crocifisso, con Giovanni e Longino 23 

Theodericus, ll. 218–24, p. 150. Ibid., ll. 224–33, p. 150. 25  Ibid., ll. 234–45, p. 150. Sui lavori crociati nel XII secolo, Virgilio C. Corbo, Il Santo Sepolcro di Gerusalemme. Aspetti archeologici dalle origini al periodo crociato (Jerusalem, 1982), pp. 183–85; Michele Piccirillo, “Gerusalemme e la basilica del Santo Sepolcro,” in Le Crociate, p. 240. 26  Theodericus, ll. 154–59, pp. 147–48. 27  Ibid., ll. 397–400, p. 155. 24 



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che punge con la lancia da un lato, e Stefaton intento ad offrire l’aceto per mezzo d’una canna e la Vergine dall’altro; a destra dell’altare una Deposizione di Cristo dalla croce con Giuseppe d’Arimatea e Nicodemo, “ubi etiam hoc est descriptum: 28 descensio domini nostri iesu christi de cruce.” Oltre al Santo Sepolcro, Teoderico indugia spesso e analiticamente anche sugli altri monumenti, tanto che stupisce il suo silenzio sui grandiosi mosaici della chiesa della Natività di Betlemme che pure sappiamo essere stati ultimati nel 1169. Giovanni e Teoderico, religiosi acculturati, sono ben consci del valore didascalico ed esemplificativo delle immagini e delle relative iscrizioni, al pari dei testi sacri. Ponendosi nel solco della tradizione media gregoriana, Giovanni di Würzburg ribadisce il concetto più volte: ad esempio, tornando in due occasioni nella chiesa del Monte Sion, sottolinea come “Hae revelationes per picturam demonstrantur factae” e “quod adhuc in eodem loco pictura extante de musivo opere in sanctuario absidae ejusdem aecclesiae demonstratur”; “Quae res gesta ibi facta pictura ostenditur et idem locus,” riferisce poi dell’immagine all’aperto in una strada di Gerusalemme.29 Ancora, nella chiesa di Sant’Anna nella valle di Giosafatte, egli loda la capacità della pittura di mostrare la nascita di Maria in totale adesione ai testi sacri: aecclesia magna in honore sanctae Annae constructa, in qua per picturam ostenditur qua dispositione et admonitione divina ex ipsa et Ioachim sit concepta beata virgo Maria, sicut in Vita beatae Annae largius cognoscitur.30

Ben ferrati sulle Scritture, Giovanni e Teoderico gradiscono, oltre alla funzione didattica, anche quella mnemonica dei documenti figurativi, l’historia di ascendenza gregoriana, ossia la capacità di favorire un immediato richiamo dell’evento scritturale. Una possibilità amplificata certamente dalla circostanza, unica al mondo, che le immagini sacre di Terra Santa erano presenti nel luogo fisico dell’evento stesso. In qualche caso, addirittura, l’immagine sopravanzava la stessa scrittura nel carattere di normatività, riuscendo a chiarire alcuni dettagli che nei testi sacri rimanevano ambigui. Narra il pellegrino Giovanni come nella chiesa del Monte Sion una pittura mostrasse come lo Spirito Santo nel giorno della Pentecoste fosse disceso sotto forma di lingue di fuoco sui dodici Apostoli, un numero che nelle Scritture (Atti degli Apostoli 1:12–14 e 2:1–4) non risultava specificato: Quod et factum est decima die ab ascensione domini et quinquagesima die a resurrectione, videlicet in die Pentecostes, discipulis in quodam conclavi prefati aedificii in Monte Syon, ubi et dominus noster dicitur cenasse, manentibus et inpletionem promissi expectantibus, quod adhuc in eodem loco pictura extante de musivo opere in sanctuario absidae eiusdem aecclesiae demonstratur. Nam ibi duodenarius apostolorum numerus cum ipsorum imaginibus, Spiritu sancto in forma ignearum linguarum ad capita singulorum 28  29  30 

Ibid., ll. 420–29, p. 156. Johannes Wirziburgensis, ll. 1038–39, p. 121; ll. 1182–84, p. 127; l. 1427, p. 137. Ibid., ll. 1397–401, p. 136.

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descendente, per similitudinem picturae continetur cum tali epygrammate: 31 repente de caelo sonus advenientis et caetera.

factus est

Nei due narratori, dunque, persevera il paradigma dell’edificio chiesastico che, simile ad un libro, impartisce lezioni ai fedeli.32 Se la Bibbia rimaneva la fonte di tutti i modelli morali e comportamentali, la rappresentazione iconografica, al pari della predicazione, appariva anche in Terra Santa uno strumento irrinunciabile per l’aedificatio dei fedeli.33 Exempla e comportamenti rituali Nei pellegrini, gli exempla biblici nelle immagini stimolavano un processo di immedesimazione più intenso che in ogni altro luogo, in linea con le forme devozionali entro cui si concretizzava l’esperienza in Terra Santa. Già a partire dal IV secolo, i palmieri erano soliti vagare negli scenari biblici e, grazie a letture e preghiere “appropriate al tempo e al luogo,” evocavano suggestivamente il passato sacro. Con l’esegesi di Agostino e Girolamo il pellegrinaggio ad Limina si caricò di ulteriori valenze spirituali ed i pellegrini si volsero ad un’autentica immersione mistica, al punto che, volendo rivivere il passato sacro da protagonisti, iniziarono a ripetere mimeticamente i comportamenti dei personaggi delle Scritture. In una sfera religiosa connotata – molto più di oggi – da note di attiva fisicità, l’attualizzazione dell’accaduto era ottenibile attraverso riti collettivi e individuali di elevato coinvolgimento sensoriale ed emotivo.34 Una dimensione corale caratterizzava ovviamente la liturgia itinerante della Settimana Santa, che già al tempo di Egeria regalava ai fedeli momenti di grande intensità attraverso processioni, letture evangeliche e preghiere “appropriate al giorno e al luogo.” Durante la mattina della Domenica delle Palme, narra la galiziana, il vescovo a dorso di un’asina rievocava l’ingresso di Gesù a Gerusalemme, in una processione che lo conduceva dal Monte Oliveto sino alla porta Aurea tra ali di folla festosa.35 Nel corso del XII secolo, la maggiore attenzione all’umanità di Cristo determinò l’introduzione di momenti altamente spettacolari. Durante la Veglia, ad 31 

Ibid., ll. 1178–89, pp. 126–27. “Immensa enciclopedia di pietra” è la definizione classica di Henry Focillon, Art d’Occident (Paris, 1947), p. 6. Vedi anche Umberto Eco, Arte e bellezza nell’estetica medievale (Milano, 1987), pp. 92–93. 33  Tra gli altri, Pierre Racine, “I modelli biblici: dalla rappresentazione all’insegnamento del popolo cristiano,” in Medioevo: I modelli. Atti del Convegno internazionale di studi (Parma 27 settembre–1 ottobre 1999), ed. Arturo C. Quintavalle (Milano, 2001), pp. 151–55. 34  Si veda per il periodo altomedievale Gary Vikan, “Pilgrims in Magi’s Clothing: The Impact of Mimesis on Early Byzantine Pilgrimage Art,” in The Blessings of Pilgrimage, ed. Robert Ousterhout (Urbana and Chicago, 1990), pp. 97–107; per il periodo crociato, Aryeh Graboïs, Le pèlerin occidental en Terre Sainte au Moyen Âge (Paris-Bruxelles, 1988), pp. 109–16. 35  Egeria, Pellegrinaggio in Terrasanta, ed. Nicoletta Natalucci (Firenze, 1991), pp. 186 e 188. Cf. Johannes Wirziburgensis, ll. 415–26, pp. 95–96. 32 



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esempio, la teatrale discesa del fuoco sacro trasformava tutti gli astanti in attori ed equivalenti tipologici dei protagonisti evangelici, col vescovo che evocava l’angelo – e a tratti il Cristo stesso – ed il clero e l’assemblea tutta le Marie al Sepolcro.36 Verso la metà del secolo tale liturgia si arricchì della Visitatio Sepulcri, un dramma recitato che, all’annuncio dell’angelo, faceva esplodere in scene di giubilo l’astancium peregrinorum multitudinem stipata all’interno dell’Anastasis.37 A livello individuale, i pellegrini adottarono comportamenti esteriori sempre più cristallizzati. Apprestandosi a ripercorre i luoghi e i momenti della Passione, ad esempio, Teoderico aspira a sottoporsi alle stesse prove del Maestro e di San Pietro: “Cum eo igitur in Montem Syon cupio ascendere et quid post hec fecerit videre, sed prius cum Petro volo incarcerari, ut cum eo a Christo docear non negare sed orare.”38 La manifestazione più esplicita dell’imitatio Christi in Terra Santa era ovviamente il trasporto della croce, secondo quanto prescritto dal noto precetto evangelico (Matt. 10:38; 16:24–28; Marc. 8:34–35 e Luc. 9:23). L’evidenza era resa simbolicamente attraverso il signum super vestem imposto da Urbano II ai milites crucesignati,39 e con l’usanza dei semplici palmieri di depositare nella Cappella del Calvario delle piccole croci di legno recate dai loro paesi.40 Una chiara imitazione del Maestro era anche l’immersione nel Giordano, da effettuarsi magari nel giorno dell’Epifania. Oltre a confidare nella virtù rigenerativa delle acque, che avevano già mondato Naaman il Siro dalla lebbra e sanato i mali spirituali di santa Maria Egiziaca e san Silvino, i pellegrini vedevano nell’abluzione un atto purificatore che suggellava il pellegrinaggio e lo qualificava come un secondo battesimo.41 Quando si apriva ad una partecipazione collettiva, il rito acquisiva spesso la risonanza di un rito liturgico. Ricche di risvolti simbolici furono ad esempio le immersioni di Raimondo di Saint-Gilles e di tutti i suoi uomini, effettuate su 36  La suggestiva cerimonia in Abbot Daniel, Pilgrimage of the Russian Abbot Daniel, p. 78. Vedi inoltre Adrian J. Boas, Jerusalem in the Time of the Crusades: Society, Landscape, and Art in the Holy City under Frankish Rule (London, 2001), pp. 106–7; Christopher MacEvitt, The Crusades and Christian World of the East: Rough Tolerance (Philadelphia, 2007), pp. 120–22. 37  Il testo del dramma gerosolimitano in Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Ms. Barberini Lat. 659, Ordinarium ad usum Hierosolymitanum anni 1160, fols. 75v–76r. 38  Theodericus, ll. 784–86, p. 167. 39  Narra Roberto il Monaco: “Quicumque ergo hujus sanctae peregrinationis animum habuerit … signum Dominicae Crucis in fronte sua sive in pectore praeferat. Qui vero inde voti compos regredi voluerit, inter spatulas retro ponat; tales quippe bifaria operatione complebunt illud Domini praeceptum quod ipse jubet per Evangelium: qui non bajulat crucem suam et venim post me, non est me dignus.” Robert the Monk’s History of the First Crusade: Historia Iherosolimitana, ed. and trans. Carol Sweetenham (Aldershot, 2005), p. 82. Su questi aspetti, Jonathan Riley-Smith, The First Crusade and the Idea of Crusading (Philadelphia, 1986), pp. 22–25, 133–35; idem, The Crusades: A History, 2nd ed. (New Haven, 2005), pp. 15–16. 40  Theodericus, ll. 414–16, p. 155. 41  Jacques de Vitry, Historia Hierosolymitana, ed. Jacques Bongars, in Gesta Dei per Francos, 1 (Hanau, 1611), pp. 1075–76. Si veda, anche per il rinvio alle fonti, Jonathan Sumption, Pilgrimage: An Image of Mediaeval Religion (London, 1975), pp. 128–29.

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ordine di Pietro Bartolomeo subito dopo la conquista di Gerusalemme,42 e quella in pompa magna attuata nella vigilia dell’Epifania dell’anno 1101 con protagonisti Boemondo di Antiochia, Goffredo di Buglione e Balduino di Edessa, narrata con intensità da Alberto di Aquisgrana.43 Teoderico, nel giorno della sua immersione, contò (sic) più di sessantamila pellegrini che reggevano le candele sulle rive del fiume.44 Al medesimo ambito semantico vanno ricondotte altre pratiche dei pellegrini. Nell’Alto Medioevo, attorno al 570, l’Anonimo pellegrino di Piacenza si stese sui tre giacigli utilizzati da Gesù nella notte del tradimento, nel Getsemani;45 qualche secolo più tardi Riccardo di Saint-Vannes, sconvolto dal crudo realismo dei riti della Settimana Santa, il Giovedì Santo del 1027 lavò i piedi ai poveri nella piazza antistante il Santo Sepolcro.46 I comportamenti talora giungevano all’autopunizione e alla macerazione delle carni, in atto espiatorio: nella prima metà del XI secolo, Folco Nerra conte d’Angiò si flagellò davanti la chiesa del Santo Sepolcro,47 e molti pellegrini nei secoli seguenti fecero altrettanto legati alla stessa colonna di Cristo, conservata nella chiesa del Monte Sion.48 L’imitatio dei fedeli si conformava anche su altri modelli esemplari: i santi, così come la Chiesa stessa prescriveva da sempre,49 ed altri personaggi della storia sacra. Nell’Alto Medioevo, ad esempio, l’Anonimo di Piacenza si fermava a scagliare, memore di Davide, tre pietre contro la presunta tomba di Golia;50 dopo il Mille, ancora, i palmieri emulavano i Magi pregando nel punto in cui a costoro era riapparso l’astro, lungo la strada da Gerusalemme a Betlemme.51 Una profonda similitudine era percepita tra i pellegrini e i crociati diretti a Gerusalemme e gli Israeliti dell’Esodo biblico: gli uni e gli altri protesi spazialmente e spiritualmente verso la Casa del Padre, i primi verso l’Eden ebraico e i secondi verso quello rifondato dal sangue redentore del Cristo, tra la collina della Crocifissione e il Sepolcro della Resurrezione. Se già dal tempo di Egeria i palmieri ripercorrevano gli spostamenti dell’Esodo leggendo i relativi passi, con l’esegesi di Girolamo la marcia biblica nel deserto diviene un progressivo avvicinamento geografico

42 

WT, p. 424. AA, pp. 496–98. Le vicende ricordate in Denys Pringle, “Templar Castles on the Road to the Jordan,” in MO, 1, p. 148. 44  Theodericus, ll. 1065–67, p. 177. 45  Anonymus Antoninus dictus Placentinus, Itinerarium, ed. Paul Geyer, Corpus Christianorum: Series Latina 175 (Turnhout, 1965), p. 170. 46  Ugo da Flavigny, Chronicon, ed. Georg H. Pertz, MGH SS 8:393, 395–96. 47  William of Malmesbury, De Gestis regum anglorum, ed. William Stubbs, RS 90.1.2 (London, 1889), pp. 292–93. 48  Theodericus, ll. 914–15, p. 172. 49  St. Basil, The Letters, ed. Edward Capps, Thomas E. Page, and William H. D. Rouse, trans. Roy J. Deferrari (London, 1926), p. 15. 50  Anonymus Placentinus, Itinerarium, p. 179. 51  Donato Baldi, Enchiridion Locorum Sanctorum. Documenta S. Evangelii Loca Recipientia, 3rd ed. (Jerusalem, 1982), pp. 139, 145–46. 43 



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e ascetico a Dio, e di conseguenza un archetipo del pellegrinaggio stesso.52 Più tardi, in occasione delle spedizioni crociate, la simbiosi costituirà la base teologica dell’intervento armato. Nel discorso di Urbano II a Clermont riportato da Baldrigo di Dol il ricorso alle armi risulta, come nell’Esodo, doloroso ma ineluttabile per la ripresa della Terra Promissionis, ed i figli di Israele divengono la figura tipologica dei crociati.53 Nel medesimo quadro associativo, prima Raimondo di Tolosa e Ademaro di Puy, poi, un secolo dopo, Innocenzo III, si ergono a guida delle armate cristiane come novelli Mosè.54 Da tali coordinate è facile intuire quanto gli exempla figurati alimentassero la già elevata propensione emulativa dei pellegrini. Consapevolmente, gli ideatori dei programmi iconografici lungo il cammino in Terra Santa privilegiavano tra i molti quelli che più erano riconducibili alla dimensione del viaggio, in grado più degli altri di sorreggere spiritualmente i marciatori e di stimolarli nel duro cammino.55 Oltre l’exemplum: notazioni estetiche e accenti devozionali In Giovanni di Würzburg e Teoderico non emerge solo la bravura nel riconoscere le iconografie, ma anche la capacità di risalire alle motivazioni della presenza di alcuni dettagli. All’interno della Cappella del Calvario, Giovanni si sofferma sui motivi per cui sotto la Crocifissione apparisse un teschio racchiuso nella roccia. Dapprima il dotto pellegrino confuta la tradizionale attribuzione del cranio ad Adamo argomentando che, in base delle Scritture, la sepoltura del Progenitore fosse localizzata ad Ebron anziché a Gerusalemme; poi, rifacendosi ad un passo del profeta Osea (Os 13:14), propone che l’inserto iconografico in realtà stesse semplicemente a simboleggiare la vittoria di Cristo sulla morte.56 Teoderico, dal canto suo, non tralascia di spiegare la presenza di Costantino ed Elena tra i mosaici dell’Anastasis in quanto fondatori della stessa chiesa.57 Oltre a quanto evidenziato, emerge non di rado nelle due fonti un atteggiamento di altra natura, un apprezzamento più apertamente estetico. Giovanni ad esempio ha un sussulto quando vede nella parte superiore del Calvario “optimo musivo opere † pulchre depicta continetur passio Christi,” o ancora quando entrando nella chiesa 52  Hieronymus, Epistula LXXVIII ad Fabiolam de mansionibus filiorum Israel per eremum, ed. Isidorus Hilberg, in Epistulae, CSEL 55 (Wien-Leipzig, 1912), pp. 49–86. 53  Baldrico di Dol, Historia Hierosolimitana, PL 151:567: “Filii Israel ab Aegyptiis educti, qui Rubri maris transitu vos praefiguraverunt.” 54  Per approfondimenti, Vito Sibilio, Le parole della Prima Crociata (Galatina, 2004), pp. 86–106, 264–68; Jonathan Riley-Smith, The First Crusade, pp. 140–43. 55  Arturo C. Quintavalle, “Pellegrinaggio,” in Enciclopedia dell’Arte Medievale, 9 (Roma, 1998), pp. 279–88 e relativa bibliografia; Gigetta Dalli Regoli e Letizia Badalassi, “Il viaggio e i viandanti nell’iconografia medioevale,” in Le vie del Medioevo. Atti del Convegno internazionale di studi (Parma, 29 settembre – 1 ottobre 1998), ed. Arturo C. Quintavalle (Milano, 2001), pp. 156–66. 56  Johannes Wirziburgensis, ll. 971–84, p. 118–19. 57  Theodericus, ll. 236–39, p. 150.

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della Tomba di Maria nota che “fabricata est aecclesia miro lapideo tabulatu.”58 La cripta della stessa chiesa ospitava un sepolcro che Teoderico vede ornato “opere pretiosissimo de marmore”; agli occhi dello stesso, suggestivamente, abbiamo visto come la fascia muraria dell’Anastasis “musivo opere incomparabili specie praefulget,” e “gratissimo vultu puer Jesus refulgens.”59 In quest’ultimo passo Teoderico sopravanza il suo mentore nella critica filologica delle immagini, e riconosce il busto del “puer Jesus” come “antiquo” rispetto agli altri mosaici dell’Anastasis, realizzati solo un trentennio prima del suo arrivo. In un’altra circostanza, il religioso è in grado di cogliere i limiti espositivi di un contesto e di suggerire soluzioni per una migliore fruizione delle immagini. I mosaici nella volta della Cappella del Calvario, dice, non avrebbero avuto eguali se ci fosse stata più luce per ammirarli, ma, continua, così non era a causa di tutti gli edifici addossati l’uno all’altro in maniera eccessiva: Cuius pavimenta omnigeno marmore egregie constrata, testudo vero sive celatura ipsius prophetis, David scilicet, Salomone, Ysaya et quibusdam aliis, scripta passioni Christi consonantia manu gestantibus, musivo opere in ea depictis nobilissime est adornata, ita ut illi operi nullum sub celo posset equari si tantum clare posset videri, nam propter circumstantes fabricas locus idem aliquantulum obscuratur.60

La sua opinione è dunque lontana dall’horror vacui dell’estetica medievale, e anticipa di oltre un secolo e mezzo rispetto le analoghe dichiarazioni dei pellegrini del Trecento, avvezzi ormai alle melliflue percezioni tardo-gotiche.61 Nelle relazioni di Giovanni e Teoderico emerge anche la particolare venerazione dei fedeli per talune immagini sacre. Se le percezioni dei due teutonici, si è detto, erano filtrate da una cultura e un bagaglio ermeneutico superiori alla media, nella maggioranza analfabeta il rapporto con l’immagine si rivestiva di note più dirette e immediate, che la spiritualità diffusa del contesto, fatta di riti, liturgie, penitenze ed altre esperienze mistiche incanalava in una fruizione di tipo extra-sensoriale. Era il tipico approccio contro cui convergevano da sempre gli strali degli iconoclasti di ogni confessione. Il discorso valeva in primo luogo per i principi crociati, avvezzi più alle armi che ai libri. Gugliemo di Tiro narra ad esempio come Goffredo di Buglione fosse talmente affascinato dalle chiese e dai loro ornamenti da non voler andar via al termine delle funzioni, e da pretendere dai religiosi, “coloro che sembrano averne qualche conoscenza,” spiegazioni dettagliate per ogni immagine. La cosa non era 58 

Johannes Wirziburgensis, ll. 987–88, 1230–31, pp. 119, 129. Theodericus, ll. 225–26, 228, p. 150. 60  Ibid., ll. 397–404, p. 155. 61  Fra’ Antonio De Reboldi da Cremona, in visita a Betlemme nel terzo-quarto decennio del Trecento, confessò ad esempio il suo entusiasmo per le qualità “temporali” della basilica della Natività: la varietà e la “curiositas” delle immagini, l’armonia strutturale, la preziosità del pavimento e il tetto plumbeo: Antonio De Reboldi, “Itinerarium ad sepulchrum Domini [1327],” ed. Reinhold Röhricht, Zeitschrift des Deutschen Palästina-Vereins 13 (1890), p. 160. 59 



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particolarmente gradita dai suoi compagni d’arme, poiché, dovendolo attendere prima di desinare, trovavano le pietanze regolarmente fredde.62 Mentre contempla le immagini, la mente di Goffredo appare rapita, sospinta verso l’alto in un processo mistico. La condizione spirituale è la stessa del celebre abate Suger di Saint-Denis, che, pochi anni dopo, scriverà di pervenire anagogico more a verità superiori grazie all’arte della sua nuova chiesa gotica.63 Sembra riecheggiare l’epistola di Adriano I all’imperatrice Irene e a suo figlio Costantino VI, secondo cui ogni mente “rapiatur spirituali affectu per contemplationem figuratae imaginis” e si dirige “per visibilem vultum ad invisibilem divinitatis majestatem.”64 Rispetto alla tradizione neoplatonica, che si affermò a Bisanzio dopo il II Concilio di Nicea del 787 ed in Occidente con l’arte gotica, la modalità percettiva di Goffredo è certamente spontanea e immediata, lontana dalla cultura filosofica di Suger e dei pochi letterati del tempo ed in sintonia piuttosto con gli strati meno colti della popolazione, che, in Terra Santa, mostrano spesso una chiara propensione alle immagini sacre. Non meravigliano dunque i moti di indignazione dei musulmani e degli ebrei, tradizionalmente avversi. Sintomatiche sono in tal senso le parole dello sceicco Usama ben Mundiqh, in un racconto pieno di disprezzo verso i cristiani franchi per un atteggiamento che giudica idolatra: I saw one of the Franks come to al-Amir MuÞin al-Din when he was in the Dome of the Rock, and say to him, Do you want to see God like a child? MuÞin al-Din said “yes.” The Frank walked ahead of us until he showed us the picture of Mary with Christ (may peace be upon him!) as an infant in her lap. He then said, “This is God as a ‘child.’” But Allah is exalted far above what the infidels say about him!65

Il racconto di Usama ci rammenta come la Palestina rimase in tutto il Medioevo un ambiente eccezionalmente cosmopolita, in cui cristiani, musulmani ed ebrei si trovarono a condividere la venerazione per gli stessi luoghi e, talvolta, per alcuni monumenti. Per le tre religioni di ceppo adamitico Gerusalemme era – ed è – la città santa per eccellenza, con alcuni luoghi – la Cupola della Roccia sulla Spianata del Tempio, o il Monte degli Ulivi sede del Giudizio Finale – a più alta densità di sacralità. Nel corso del tempo, indipendentemente dalle stagioni politiche, la coesistenza delle tre religioni negli stessi luoghi generò spesso tensioni e contrasti, ma non di rado sfociò in forme condivise di riti e devozioni particolari.66 Oggetto 62 

WT, pp. 422–23. Abbot Suger, Liber de rebus in administratione sua gestis, in Erwin Panofsky, Abbot Suger on the Church of St.-Denis and its Art Treasures, ed. Gerda Panofsky-Soergel, 2nd ed. (Princeton, 1979), pp. 62–64. 64  Adriano I, Epistola ad Costantinum et Irenem [Sinodica], PL 96:1224. Vedi Jean-Claude Schmitt, “L’Occident, Nicèe II et les images du VIIIe au XIIIe siècle,” in Nicèe II. 787–1987. Douze siècles d’images religieuses. Actes du colloque international Nicèe II (Tenu au collège de France, Paris, 2–4 octobre 1986), ed. François Boespflug e Nicolas Lossky (Paris, 1987), pp. 272–73. 65  Hillenbrand, The Crusades, p. 290. 66  Ora Limor, “Sharing Sacred Space: Holy Places in Jerusalem between Christianity, Judaism, and Islam,” in In Laudem Hierosolymitani: Studies in Crusades and Medieval Culture in Honour of 63 

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di venerazione condivisa era un’icona miracolosa di Maria a Saydnaya, centro multietnico a Nord di Damasco aperto a fenomeni di reciprocità cultuale.67 Le fonti occidentali ricordano altre immagini miracolose e venerate dai cristiani più intensamente. Ad esempio ad Antiochia, in una chiesa di rito greco dedicata alla Vergine, si conservava un’icona della Madonna che, all’occorrenza, veniva portata in processione contro la siccità.68 Addirittura dotata di vita propria era ritenuta la celebre Crocifissione lignea dipinta di Beirut. Una vetusta leggenda ricordava come la tavola, dipinta da Nicodemo, fosse stata crocifissa da mani ebraiche ed avesse rilasciato acqua e sangue dalla ferita al costato: gli infermi venuti a contatto dei santi liquidi erano stati repentinamente guariti, e gli aguzzini presenti indotti alla conversione. Del miracolo si fa già menzione nel corso del Concilio di Nicea del 787. Teoderico, erroneamente, ritiene l’immagine ancora all’interno della cattedrale cittadina,69 quando in realtà la stessa risulta trasferita a Costantinopoli già due secoli prima, nel 975. Non a caso, Wilbrand di Oldenburg ed altri viaggiatori del XIII secolo ne tramandano solo il ricordo, carico di devozione.70 Negli episodi riportati emergono aspetti devozionali e percettivi ben lontani dalla linea media gregoriana, secondo la quale occorreva venerare non l’immagine ma solo il soggetto rappresentato. Nonostante ciò, nessun segno di riprovazione o di condanna nelle due fonti odeporiche, che al contrario sottolineano gli episodi con fervida partecipazione ed un’accorta aggettivazione pietistica. Evidentemente i pellegrini – anche i più acculturati – confidavano nella presenza di Dio nelle immagini, nella quale anzi erano propensi a cogliere il buon esito della loro peregrinatio spiritualis. Un forte stimolo alla percezione mistica scaturiva dalle iscrizioni didascaliche di corredo, che non a caso invitavano alla massima commozione. Grande “compunzione” ispirava a Teoderico un’immagine del Crocifisso nel chiostro dei Canonici, all’interno del complesso del Santo Sepolcro. La sua epigrafe soverchiava i pellegrini col ricordo della colpa ancestrale e del sacrificio redentore: aspice qui transis, quia tu michi causa doloris: 71 pro te passus ita, pro me tu noxia vita.

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Benjamin Z. Kedar, ed. Iris Shagrir, Ronnie Ellenblum e Jonathan Riley-Smith (Aldershot, 2007), pp. 219–23. 67  Benjamin Z. Kedar, “Convergences of Oriental Christian, Muslim, and Frankish Worshippers: The Case of Saydnaya,” in De Sion exibit lex et verbum domini de Hierusalem: Essays on Medieval Law, Liturgy and Literature in Honour of Amnon Linder, ed. Yitzak Hen (Turnhout, 2001), pp. 59–69. 68  Jaroslav Folda, Crusader Art in the Holy Land: From the Third Crusade to the Fall of Acre, 1187–1291 (Cambridge, 2005), p. 120. 69  Theodericus, ll. 1583–92, pp. 195–96; cf. Johannes Wirziburgensis, ll. 585–90, p. 103. 70  Wilbrand of Oldenburg, Peregrinatio, ed. Johann C. M. Laurent, in Peregrinatores Medii Aevi Quator (Leipzig, 1864), p. 167. Sulla tavola, oggi nel Palazzo del Laterano a Roma, vedi Pringle, Churches, 1:117 (n° 47); Nicholas Vincent, The Holy Blood: King Henry III and the Westminster Blood Relic (Cambridge, 2001), pp. 46–47. 71  Theodericus, ll. 347–48, p. 153.



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Concludiamo la disamina sulle immagini sacre crociate con una notazione dell’inglese Sevulfo, in Terra Santa nei primissimi anni del XII secolo. Sevulfo descrive un’interessante pittura ospitata nella Cappella di Maria, ancora nel cortile del Santo Sepolcro. La Madonna, “ben pitturata,” era rappresentata nell’atto di parlare in modo “mirabile,” per mezzo dello Spirito Santo, ad una Santa Maria Egiziaca, che si mostrava tutta compunta e supplicante verso la Vergine: In muro autem occidentali ipsius capellae Sanctae Mariae conspicitur imago ipsius dei genitricis perpicta exterius, quae Mariam Egyptiacam, olim toto corde compunctam atque ipsius dei genitricis iuvamen efflagitantem in figura ipsius, cuius pictura erat, per Spiritum sanctum loquendo mirifice consolabatur, sicut in Vita ipsius legitur.72

Tralasciando la sensibilità estetica con cui l’autore tratteggia gesti e personaggi, la parte più interessante del brano consiste nel fatto che le fattezze della santa, dice il pellegrino, rispecchiassero quelle dell’originaria committente del quadro. Se non fossimo al cospetto di una probabile forzatura espressiva da parte del cronista, si potrebbe parlare di un realismo fuori dall’ordinario per un’opera risalente all’XI secolo e di fattura probabilmente bizantina.

72 

Saewulf, Peregrinatio, in Peregrinationes tres, ll. 249–53, p. 66.

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The Byzantines and Saladin: Opponents of the Third Crusade? Savvas Neocleous Trinity College, Dublin [email protected] The question of the alliance between the Byzantine Empire and Saladin (1174–93), sultan of Egypt and Syria, has been the subject of a heated and ongoing debate among modern scholars. In his 1962 article “The Byzantines and Saladin, 1185– 1192: Opponents of the Third Crusade,” Brand was the first to deal extensively with this question, arguing in favour of the existence of complicity between the Byzantines and Saladin against the crusader states and particularly, as indicated by the title, against the Third Crusade. Brand’s paper has exerted a strong influence on several commentators and is still cited as authoritative by scholars who support the view that the Byzantine Emperor Isaak and Saladin operated in collusion against the Third Crusade. The purpose of this paper is to reconsider the question of the so-called Byzantine-Muslim alliance through a fresh examination of the primary material available. The Alleged Alliance between the Byzantines and Saladin against the Crusader States At Manuel’s death in 1180, his son and heir Alexios II (1180–83) was only twelve years old and thus the regency was assumed by his mother, Maria of Antioch. The protosebastos Alexios Komnenos, a nephew of Manuel, became Maria’s lover and the effective ruler of the Byzantine Empire. In the autumn of 1181 an embassy sent by the protosebastos to Saladin arrived in Egypt. After prolonged negotiations a truce was concluded with the sultan, designed to create a balance of power against the Seljuk Turks in Asia Minor. In 1185, Saladin and the Byzantine Emperor Andronikos I (1182–85), who had meanwhile seized the throne in 1182, signed a formal treaty with the same aim, and, probably by 1186, the Emperor Isaak II (1185–95, 1203–4), who had overthrown Andronikos I in 1185, dispatched yet another embassy to the sultan to renew the alliance. I would like to thank Dr Barbara Crostini for her valuable comments while this article was still in progress. This article is dedicated to the memory of my godfather Dr Andreas Photiou.   Charles M. Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin, 1185–1192: Opponents of the Third Crusade,” Speculum 37 (1962), pp. 167–81.   Jonathan Phillips, Defenders of the Holy Land: Relations between the Latin East and the West, 1119–1187 (Oxford, 1996), p. 251; Ralph-Johannes Lilie, Byzantium and the Crusader States,

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In his Chronicon, the German monk Magnus of Reichersberg (d. 1195) preserves a letter that had been composed by an anonymous correspondent in the ultramarini partes (that is, Palestine) and sent to the West. The letter has no addressee and breaks off abruptly. Brand argues that it was written in the late summer or fall of 1188. According to this missive, the 1185 treaty between the Byzantine Emperor Andronikos I and Saladin stipulated the conquest not only of the sultanate of Iconium, but also of the crusader states, as well as the subsequent division of the conquered areas between the emperor and the sultan. Jerusalem and the SyroPalestinian coast were to be held by Saladin as a fief of the Byzantine ruler, since the sultan would pay homage to the emperor. As Andronikos was overthrown, this pact could no longer be acted out. The anonymous author of the letter claims that, upon ascending the imperial throne, Isaak maintained the alliance between his predecessor and Saladin “because he felt hatred for the Latins and feared them.” When, on his way to Constantinople, Isaak’s brother Alexios was captured in Acre by the Latin settlers of Outremer, the emperor ordered the sultan “to rise powerfully against the Christians from overseas who are the greatest enemies of both” and release his brother. The Byzantine sovereign himself would also attack the Latin settlers, so that their land could be divided according to the terms outlined in the Byzantine-Muslim treaty. Moreover, always according to the anonymous correspondent, Isaak dispatched eighty galleys to the assistance of Saladin, but the fleet was destroyed off Cyprus by the Norman admiral Margaritone. The sultan went to war with the kingdom of Jerusalem, annihilated the Franks at Hattin (4 July 1187), and usurped almost all their land. As reported by the anonymous author, after his triumph, Saladin sent Isaak munificent gifts “in order to rejoice at his victory.” The sultan’s envoys were honourably received by the emperor in Constantinople and were lodged at a very splendid palace such as Latin ambassadors had never, or rarely, been offered. The treaty between the two parties was renewed and, in return, Isaak sent the sultan generous gifts and a crown, and expressed his gratitude for his brother’s release from the Latins. The weight given to the evidence contained in this letter is fundamental to the question of the alliance between Byzantium and Saladin against the Latin settlers of Outremer as discussed in much detail by Brand, Lilie and Harris. For his part, Brand 1096–1204, trans. J. C. Morris and Jean E. Ridings (Oxford, 1993), pp. 224–32 and 240; Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin,” pp. 168–70.   Magnus of Reichersberg, Chronicon, ed. Wilhelm Wattenbach, MGH SS 17 (Hanover, 1861), pp. 439–534, at pp. 511–12.   Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin,” p. 181.   Magnus of Reichersberg, p. 511; Lilie, Byzantium, p. 231; Jonathan Harris, Byzantium and the Crusades (London, 2003), pp. 122–23.   Magnus of Reichersberg, p. 511.   Ibid.   Ibid.   Ibid., pp. 511–12.



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relied heavily on the anonymous letter incorporated in Magnus’s Chronicon, and thereby was led to assert that both Andronikos and Isaak in turn “allied themselves with the crusaders’ mightiest opponent [Saladin], and even strove to eliminate Latin power from the Orient.”10 Lilie, too, concedes that Andronikos had concluded an alliance with Saladin, directed both against the Seljuks of Iconium and against the Franks of Syria and Palestine: the Byzantine emperor wanted “to punish [the latter] for their recalcitrance” and “preserve Byzantine claims in Syria and Palestine.”11 Lilie offers a convincing interpretation of the text of the treaty preserved in the letter in Magnus’s Chronicon stating that, under it, “the emperor could not only achieve direct rule over Antioch, Cilicia, and parts of Asia Minor once more, but, in the case of Jerusalem, would improve on the legal position of 1171–80, except that now Saladin would take the place of the Franks.”12 While the logic of the agreement may thus be clarified, its evidence still begs closer questioning. Had such a treaty between Andronikos and Saladin ever been concluded? And if so, had the two rulers really succeeded in forming an alliance against the Franks of Outremer? The likelihood of the existence of such a military alliance against the Latin settlers has recently been examined by Harris. He suggests that there may well have been an agreement between the two rulers to the effect that, had Saladin conquered Jerusalem, he would recognize Andronikos as protector of the Holy Land and of its Christian inhabitants. This agreement was then interpreted by the Latins as a sinister conspiracy against the Franks of Outremer.13 Harris’s suggestion, however intriguing, does not find support in the evidence. After Saladin’s conquest of Jerusalem in 1187, the sultan in fact never renewed the ancient Byzantine protectorship over the Holy Land.14 The exclusive source of the existence of the treaty, which is not substantiated by any other contemporary account,15 leads Harris to doubt its authenticity and to argue against the fact of a military alliance between Andronikos and Saladin against the Latin settlers. This is an important step forward in scholarly opinion on this matter. Further, as Harris rightly argues, the allegation that Saladin, the leader of the Jihad against the Christians, had agreed under oath (iuramenta) to hold Jerusalem and the Syro-Palestinian littoral as the vassal of a Christian emperor stands contrary to reason.16 As regards the accusations of the anonymous writer of the letter against Isaak, these are also baseless. In 1186, the Byzantine sovereign had indeed sent a fleet of seventy ships to the eastern Mediterranean and was truly defeated by Margaritone. Its target, however, was not the kingdom of Jerusalem but the secessionist island 10 

Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin,” p. 167. Lilie, Byzantium, p. 230. 12  Ibid., p. 232. 13  Harris, Byzantium, pp. 123–24. 14  David Jacoby, “Diplomacy, Trade, Shipping and Espionage between Byzantium and Egypt in the Twelfth Century,” in Πολύπλευρος νους: Miscellanea für Peter Schreiner zu seinem 60. Geburtstag, ed. Cordula Scholz and Georgios Makris (Munich, 2000), pp. 83–102, at p. 100. 15  Harris, Byzantium, pp. 120–21; Lilie, Byzantium, pp. 232–33. 16  Harris, Byzantium, p. 121. 11 

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of Cyprus, which, since 1184, had been ruled independently by Isaak Komnenos, a member of the former imperial dynasty, who had proclaimed himself emperor.17 The allegation that Saladin attacked the Latin settlers because he had been ordered by Isaak to do so with the aim of releasing his brother is not only untrue, but even, on reflection, utterly foolish. The sultan, in reality, went to war with the kingdom of Jerusalem in response to Latin provocations.18 His intentions, as well as the real objective of the Byzantine fleet in the eastern Mediterranean, were doubtlessly known among the Latin settlers of Outremer. The jumble of facts and fiction in the letter preserved in Magnus’s Chronicon testifies to its author’s ignorance of Eastern affairs. I would suggest that Magnus’s correspondent was a Westerner who had newly arrived in the East, rather than a Latin inhabitant of Outremer, as Harris supposes,19 or “an author who knows Byzantium,”20 as claimed by Magdalino. His report was based on oral testimony, distorted information, ignorance and prejudice. His rendering and interpretation of past events in the most anti-Byzantine light and the barrage of unfounded accusations against the Byzantine emperors attest to an intense and irrational suspicion and distrust of the Byzantines. The question that naturally arises is what the cause of such paranoid suspicion and distrust might have been. The Supposed Alliance between Isaak II and Saladin against the Third Crusade We should now consider what modern scholars have argued about the supposed alliance between Isaak and Saladin against the German expedition of the Third Crusade that took the overland route to Jerusalem and marched through the territory of the Byzantine Empire from July 1189 to April 1190. Brand asserted that, at the news of the gathering of the Third Crusade, the sultan and the emperor strengthened their ties. The Byzantine ruler agreed to delay and destroy the German crusading expedition.21 The same thesis is adopted by Ostrogorsky, Riley-Smith, Lilie,22 and more recently Angold, Magdalino, Jotischky, Madden, and Angelov.23 17 

Lilie, Byzantium, p. 235; Harris, Byzantium, p. 128. Harris, Byzantium, p. 128; Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin,” p. 170. 19  Harris, Byzantium, p. 123. 20  Paul Magdalino, “Isaak II, Saladin and Venice,” in The Expansion of Orthodox Europe: Byzantium, the Balkans and Russia, ed. Jonathan Shepard (Aldershot, 2007), pp. 93–106, at p. 95. 21  Charles M. Brand, Byzantium Confronts the West, 1180–1204 (Cambridge, MA, 1968), p. 177. 22  Georg Ostrogorsky, History of the Byzantine State, trans. Joan Hussey, 2nd ed. (Oxford, 1968), pp. 406–7; Jonathan Riley-Smith, The Crusades: A Short History (London, 1987), p. 111; Lilie, Byzantium, p. 241. 23  Michael Angold, The Fourth Crusade: Event and Context (Harlow, 2003), pp. 36, 64–65; Paul Magdalino, “The Byzantine Empire 1118–1204,” in The New Cambridge Medieval History, 4.2, ed. David Luscombe and Jonathan Riley-Smith (Cambridge, 2004), pp. 611–43, at pp. 631–32; Magdalino, “Isaak II,” pp. 94–98, 103–5; Andrew Jotischky, Crusading and the Crusader States (Harlow, 2004), p. 159; Thomas F. Madden, The New Concise History of the Crusades (Oxford, 2005), pp. 80–82; Dimiter 18 



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The issue of the Byzantine-Muslim alliance is treated at greater length by Brand, Lilie, Harris, and Magdalino, while the supposedly “domestic opposition to Byzantium’s alliance with Saladin” is discussed extensively by Angelov. Brand advocated the idea that Isaak’s aggression on the Germans marching through his empire was due to his alliance with Saladin.24 Lilie argued that there was a treaty between the two rulers and, under its provisions, the Byzantine emperor would prevent the Germans’ march, but this was not the reason for German-Byzantine clashes. Given the rivalry between the German and Byzantine Empires in the previous decades, there was no need of any particular alliance that would turn the distrust into armed conflict. Lilie favoured the view that Isaak, in his dealings with Saladin, claimed that their alliance was the reason for Byzantine hostility to the Germans in order to make the maximum capital out of the situation.25 In 2003, Harris emphatically argued that there was not a formal military alliance between Isaak and Saladin to molest the German crusaders.26 In actual fact, the Byzantine ruler, mistrustful of the German Emperor Frederick I (1152–90), was determined to weaken, and if possible destroy, the German army to ensure that it did not pose a danger to Constantinople.27 However, in his dealings with Saladin, Isaak pretended to act in the sultan’s interests,28 although this policy eventually backfired. Isaak’s motives became clear even to Saladin and his advisers. As alFadil, Saladin’s foreign minister, asserted, “the Greek king fears greatly the Franks because of his empire and he wants to repel them; if he succeeds in this completely, he will claim that it is in our interest.”29 Most historians have tended not to agree with Harris.30 In 2006, having fully embraced Brand’s argument and views that Isaak and Saladin were operating in collusion against the German expedition of the Third Crusade, Angelov went as far as to interpret an oration in praise of Isaak delivered by the Byzantine historian Niketas Choniates on 6 January 1190 as an exhortation to the emperor to abandon his alliance with Saladin.31 In actual fact, in paragraph XVII of his oration, in which standard characteristics of imperial panegyric featured prominently, Choniates G. Angelov, “Domestic Opposition to Byzantium’s Alliance with Saladin: Niketas Choniates and his Epiphany Oration of 1190,” Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies 30 (2006), pp. 49–68, at pp. 49–51, 54–55 and 59–65. 24  Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin,” pp. 178–81. 25  Lilie, Byzantium, pp. 236, 241–42. 26  Harris, Byzantium, pp. 128, 134, 136. 27  Ibid., pp. 132–33. 28  Baha’al-Din Ibn Shaddad, The Rare and Excellent History of Saladin, trans. D. S. Richards (Aldershot, 2001), pp. 121–22; Abu Shama, Le Livre des deux jardins: Histoire des deux règnes, celui de Nour ed-Dîn et celui de Salah ed-Dîn, ed. and trans. A.-C. Barbier de Meynard, RHC Or 4 (Paris, 1898), pp. 3–522, at pp. 437–38, 470–71, 508–9. 29  Abu Shama, Le Livre des deux jardins, p. 509. 30  Angold, The Fourth Crusade, pp. 36, 64–65; Magdalino, “The Byzantine Empire,” pp. 631–32; Magdalino, “Isaak II,” pp. 94–8, 103–5; Jotischky, Crusading, p. 159; Madden, New Concise History, pp. 80–82; Angelov, “Domestic Opposition,” pp. 49–51, 54–55, 59–65. 31  Angelov, “Domestic Opposition,” pp. 59–65.

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urges Isaak to crush the Muslims and expand the Asiatic frontiers of the Byzantine Empire to their seventh-century extent. Extended quotation from paragraph XVII of the speech is necessary: A Nisaean or an Arabian horse will carry the Roman [i.e. the Byzantine] soldier, and the eternal phalanxes of the Romans will draw water from the Euphrates and drink from the Tigris and will feast between the two rivers. Washing your [Isaak’s] hair jubilantly in the River Jordan and being tempered in bravery, like a sword by sharpening, you [Isaak] will not only observe Palestine, but having expelled the pagans you will give Palestine to them [the Byzantines] as their hereditary allotment, just as Joshua had once done with the Israelites. For it is necessary that you, the high-flying eagle that makes every eye turn toward him, fly also thither where Christ redeemed the fall of nature by his own fall, and that assailing the Persians, those many-tongued ravens, you frighten them by the sole motion of your wings.32

Angelov understands this as an expression of dissatisfaction with “Isaak’s fruitless alliance with Saladin” and as an exhortation to the Byzantine ruler “to adopt an aggressive policy toward Saladin.”33 Such an interpretation, however, is inadequately supported by the evidence and thus far-fetched. As recently as 2007, Magdalino repeated the thesis that Isaak’s hostility to the German crusaders was due to his alliance with Saladin, through which the Byzantine emperor hoped to obtain territorial gains in Syro-Palestine, and more particularly the coastal region, as stipulated in the Byzantine-Muslim treaty preserved in the letter incorporated in the chronicle of Magnus of Reichersberg.34 Defending Brand’s views, Magdalino eventually concludes that “the interpretation of Charles Brand turns out to be substantially correct.”35

32  Nicetae Choniatae Orationes et Epistulae, ed. J.-L. van Dieten (Berlin and New York, 1973), pp. 85–101, at p. 94. English translation of paragraph XVII of the oration in Angelov, “Domestic Opposition,” pp. 59–60. 33  Angelov, “Domestic Opposition,” pp. 61, 65. 34  Magdalino, “Isaak II,” pp. 94–98, 103. To support his thesis Magdalino uses three Byzantine texts: 1. The already examined oration delivered by Choniates before Isaak II on 6 January 1190; 2. Choniates’s Historia in which the Byzantine historian reports that Isaak dreamed of liberating Palestine, “plundering the Ismaelites beyond the Euphrates,” and eventually becoming universal ruler (see Nicetae Choniatae Historia, ed. J.-L. van Dieten (Berlin and New York, 1975), p. 432; Niketas Choniates, O City of Byzantium: Annals of Niketas Choniates, trans. Harry J. Magoulias (Detroit, 1984), pp. 237–38); and 3. An epigram in which a bishop of Sidon prays that, through Isaak and the patriarch of Constantinople, God would destroy “the barbarians” and liberate Palestine, including Sidon (see Magdalino, “Isaak II,” pp. 95–96). Isaak II may well have dreamed of annihilating “the barbarians” and conquering the former eastern provinces of the Byzantine Empire, including Palestine and the Holy Land. But this is one thing and it is quite another to claim that Palestine was to be readily handed over to Isaak by Saladin, the leader of the Jihad against the Christians, in return for destroying the German crusaders. 35  Magdalino, “Isaak II,” p. 104.



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Sources In their discussions of the alleged alliance between emperor and sultan against the Third Crusade, Brand, Lilie, and Harris have employed three Latin sources. The sources are, in order of importance attributed to them by these scholars: the anonymous letter in Magnus of Reichersberg’s Chronicon; the letter of Conrad of Montferrat from Tyre, preserved in Roger of Wendover’s Flores Historiarum,36 and dated, according to Brand, 20 September 1188; and the report of a French embassy to Constantinople, written, as Brand claims, between September and November 1188, and cited in the Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi of Roger of Hoveden,37 and also in the Ymagines Historiarum of Ralph of Diceto.38 Harris has also used a fourth source: a letter written in 1189 by Queen Sibylla of Jerusalem (1186–90) and addressed to the Emperor Frederick.39 As regards Magdalino, he relies mainly on the testimony of Magnus of Reichersberg.40 A re-evaluation of the question of the alleged alliance between Saladin and Isaak II against the Third Crusade involves a new analysis of the four relevant Latin sources. The sources are examined here in the order that best suits the argument of this essay, as will become clear. 1.  The Anonymous Letter in Magnus of Reichersberg’s Chronicon The anonymous author of the letter preserved in Magnus of Reichersberg’s Chronicon portrays the Byzantine emperors as enemies not only of the crusader states but also of the Third Crusade. As he reports, upon hearing about the approach of the Western princes of the Third Crusade, Saladin dispatched envoys to Isaak with munificent gifts, as well as poisoned flour and grain, and a cask of poisoned wine, which were to be used by the Byzantine ruler for the extermination of the crusaders. When Isaak wanted to test the wine, he summoned a Latin Christian in the presence of the Muslim envoys and ordered him to open the cask. Having 36  Roger of Wendover, Flores Historiarum, ed. Henry Gay Hewlett, RS 84, 1 (London, 1886), pp. 153–54; Roger of Wendover, Flowers of History: Comprising the History of England from the Descent of the Saxons to A.D. 1235, trans. J. A. Giles, 2 (London, 1849), pp. 71–72. 37  Roger of Hoveden, Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi, ed. William Stubbs, RS 49, 2 (London, 1867), pp. 51–53. As demonstrated by modern commentators, the Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi, once attributed to Benedict of Peterborough, is the first draft of Roger of Hoveden’s later revised and completed Chronica: see Doris M. Stenton, “Roger of Howden and Benedict,” English Historical Review 68 (1953), pp. 574– 82; John Gillingham, “Roger of Howden on Crusade,” in Richard Cœur de Lion: Kingship, Chivalry, and War in the Twelfth Century (London, 1994), pp. 141–53, at pp. 142–45 and 148–49. 38  Ralph of Diceto, Opera Historica, ed. William Stubbs, RS 68, 2 (London, 1876), pp. 58–60. 39  “Tagenonis decani Pataviensis descriptio expeditionis Asiaticae contra Turcas Friderici imperatoris,” in Germanicarum rerum scriptores aliquot insignes, ed. Burkhard Gotthelf Struve (Argentorati, 1717), pp. 407–16, at p. 410; Dana C. Munro, “Letters of the Crusaders Written from the Holy Land,” in Translations and Reprints from the Original Sources of European History, 1 (Philadelphia, 1900), pp. 20–21. 40  Magdalino, “Isaak II,” pp. 94–96.

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opened it, the Latin died at once.41 Although doubtlessly appealing to medieval Westerners, this exotic story of poison smacks of absurdity. Magnus’s correspondent further reported that Saladin sent a maumeria to Constantinople which the emperor would “set up and order to be venerated for the honour of the Saracens.”42 The maumeria has been identified by modern scholars as a “mimbar” or pulpit which was to be installed in the mosque in Constantinople.43 2.  Queen Sibylla’s Letter to Frederick I The basic accusations against Isaak in the missive preserved in Magnus of Reichersberg’s chronicle are almost identical with those hurled against the Byzantine sovereign in a letter allegedly written by Queen Sibylla. This letter has been preserved in the dubious “Tagebuch” of Tageno, dean of Passau, a diary of the crusade which is reputed to be a sixteenth-century adaptation of earlier materials.44 The supposed letter of Sibylla, which is placed under another letter sent by Emperor Frederick to Duke Leopold V of Austria (1177–94) from Adrianople at the end of November 1189, is prefaced Sibylla regina Hierusalem hanc epistolam Friderico imperatori mittit. This naturally led scholars to argue that the letter reached Emperor Frederick while in the Byzantine Empire in late 1189.45 In the letter, Isaak is denounced as “persecutor of the church of God … [and] of the holy Name” and is charged with having “entered into a conspiracy (coniuratio) with Saladin, the seducer and destroyer of the holy Name.”46 Both emperor and sultan are represented as equally relentless enemies of Christianity. According to the letter, Saladin dispatched to Isaak “many presents very pleasing to mortals, in order to make a compact and agreement (prauam concordiam et reconciliationem). And for 41 

Magnus of Reichersberg, p. 512. Ibid. 43  Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin,” p. 172, n. 13. Since the eighth century there existed a mosque in the cosmopolitan Byzantine capital. Saladin, greatly concerned about the maintenance of Muslim worship in Constantinople, requested the construction of a new one, which was built in 1188. See Lilie, Byzantium, p. 237; Jacoby, “Diplomacy,” p. 96. According to the Itinerarium peregrinorum, composed between 1 August 1191 and 2 September 1192 by an English Templar chaplain in Tyre, the very existence of a place of Muslim worship in a Christian city constituted in itself an outrageous betrayal of Christianity. The English Templar chaplain asserts that “it is appropriate that this city [Constantinople] should have been razed to the ground. If rumour is to be believed, it had recently been polluted by mosques (mahumeriis), which the perfidious emperor [Isaak] had permitted to be built. A treaty he had made under oath with the Turks bindingly provided for this.” Das Itinerarium peregrinorum. Eine zeitgenössische englische Chronik zum dritten Kreuzzug in ursprünglicher Gestalt, ed. Hans Eberhard Mayer, MGH Schriften 18 (Stuttgart, 1962), p. 293. For a detailed treatment of Isaak’s agreement to the installation of a “mimbar,” in the Constantinopolitan mosque, the journey of the pulpit to Constantinople, its capture by Genoese pirates, and the dispatch of a second “mimbar,” see Jacoby, “Diplomacy,” pp. 94–98. 44  Robert Lee Wolff, “Romania: The Latin Empire of Constantinople,” Speculum 23 (1948), pp. 1–34, at p. 26. 45  Harris, Byzantium, p. 134. 46  “Tagenonis decani Pataviensis descriptio,” p. 410; trans., p. 20. 42 



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the slaughter and destruction of the Christians … he sent 600 measures of poisoned grain and added a very large vase of wine, filled with such a malignant poison that when he wanted to try its efficacy he called a man who was killed by the odor alone when the vase was opened.”47 The imaginative stories according to which Isaak had attempted to eliminate the crusaders with poison provided by Saladin appear to have had wide circulation and to have gained credibility and currency among the Latins. It is very important to underline that, in late autumn 1189, while the German crusaders were marching through the territories of the Byzantine Empire, suffering Byzantine attacks, rumours that Isaak II had been prepared to exterminate them by means of deadly poison began to circulate. The rumours gave rise to fanciful stories, some of which are recorded by the anonymous author of the Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris, the best known eye-witness source concentrating on the German expedition of the Third Crusade. According to one of the stories, at Demotica, captured by the Germans on 24 December 1189, “a huge jar was found … filled with wine … and mixed with the most deadly poison.”48 The fact that the crusaders who drank of the wine remained unharmed did not disprove the author’s belief that the brew had been poisoned, but rather confirmed his belief in “divine mercy.”49 The supposed letter of Queen Sibylla concludes by cautioning Frederick that he “should never believe the Greek emperor.”50 If we accept that this letter was composed by Queen Sibylla, we could suggest a number of reasons to explain the queen’s hostility towards Isaak. First, Sibylla’s consort Guy de Lusignan, who became de jure uxoris king of Jerusalem in 1186, had always opposed association with the Byzantine Empire.51 Further, in the aftermath of the fall of Jerusalem and the capture of almost all her kingdom by Saladin in 1187, Queen Sibylla may have needed a scapegoat for the disaster. The development of mutual cooperation and friendly relations between the Byzantine emperors and Saladin in the 1180s fitted Byzantium perfectly for the task. Finally, and most importantly, Isaak’s manifest hostility to the German crusading expedition marching through his empire may have been naturally viewed by Sibylla as evidence of an elaborate conspiracy between Saladin and the Byzantine ruler against the Third Crusade and the Latins in general. Notwithstanding, there are a number of reasons which strongly undermine the authenticity of the supposed letter from Sibylla to Frederick. First, the dubious nature of Tageno’s “Tagebuch.” Secondly, had Frederick received an embassy from the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem, one would wonder why the well-informed 47 

“Tagenonis decani Pataviensis descriptio,” p. 410; trans., p. 20. Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris, in Quellen zur Geschichte des Kreuzzuges Kaiser Friedrichs I, ed. Anton Chroust, MGH SS rerum Germanicarum, n.s., 5 (Berlin, 1928), pp. 1–115, at p. 54; Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris, trans. Chester Edward Wilcox (MA dissertation, University of Nebraska, 1951), pp. 81–82. 49  Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris, p. 54; trans., p. 82. 50  “Tagenonis decani Pataviensis descriptio,” p. 410; trans., p. 21. 51  Lilie, Byzantium, pp. 217, 225; Harris, Byzantium, pp. 123–24. 48 

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author of the Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris does not report anything of this kind in his work. Thirdly, had the queen of Jerusalem believed that there was collusion between Isaak and Saladin, then surely this belief must have been widespread in the Latin East and shared by a number of Latins of Outremer. This, however, does not seem to have been the case: none of the various versions of the Old French Continuation of William of Tyre, composed in the Latin East, mentions any alliance between Isaak and Saladin against the Third Crusade. Although the Colbert-Fontainebleau Continuation and the Lyon Eracles do report that “the emperor of Constantinople did his best to prevent the emperor [Frederick] from passing through his land,”52 they do not attribute this to any alliance between Isaak and Saladin, but rather – obviously influenced by William of Tyre’s work which they continue – to the fact that “the Greeks have always hated the Church of Rome and Latin Christians.”53 Fourthly, the fact that Sibylla is styled as regina quondam Hierosolymitana (“formerly Queen of Jerusalem”)54 should also raise our suspicions: even after the loss of Jerusalem in 1187, the kings and queens of the kingdom of Jerusalem did not renounce their royal title. Finally, the almost identical accusation found in both the missive preserved in Magnus of Reichersberg’s chronicle and the supposed letter of Sibylla – that the person who allegedly opened the cask containing the poison sent by Saladin to Isaak died immediately – suggests that the author of the supposed letter of Sibylla, as in the case of the author of the missive preserved in Magnus of Reichersberg’s chronicle, must have been a Latin from the West. It is unlikely that a queen of Jerusalem would have been so naive as to believe a tale of this kind, a tale which could only be appealing to a Westerner, to whom the mythical representation of the East involved visions of it as a place where deadly poisons were widely used. I would argue, in fact, that the supposed letter of Sibylla may well be a forgery. It may have been either composed in its entirety by a single Westerner who had travelled to the East at the time of the Third Crusade, or, most likely, could have some distant acquaintance with a real anonymous report written by a Westerner in the East, the report eventually ending up in the West, where it was later reworked by a second Westerner and presented as Queen Sibylla’s letter to Frederick.

52  L’estoire de Eracles empereur et la conqueste de la terre d’Outremer, RHC Oc 2:131–32; La Continuation de Guillaume de Tyr (1184–1197), ed. Margaret Ruth Morgan, Documents relatifs à l’historie des croisades 14 (Paris, 1982), p. 93; Peter W. Edbury, The Conquest of Jerusalem and the Third Crusade: Sources in Translation (Aldershot, 1996), p. 84. For the Old French Continuations of William of Tyre, especially for the period 1184–97, see Peter W. Edbury, “The Lyon Eracles and the Old French Continuations of William of Tyre,” in Montjoie, pp. 139–53. 53  Eracles, p. 132; La Continuation, p. 93; trans., p. 84. That the Greeks hated the Latins is a central theme of William of Tyre’s Historia. See WT, pp. 173–74, 744, 1020–21. 54  “Tagenonis decani Pataviensis descriptio,” p. 410.



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3.  The Report of the French Envoys to Constantinople The two full versions of the alleged report of an embassy of King Philip II (1180– 1223) to Isaak II, given by Roger of Hoveden in his Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi and Ralph of Diceto in his Ymagines Historiarum, are almost identical; nonetheless, it should be underlined that the works of the two chroniclers are independent of each other.55 Lilie uses neither of the two versions in his discussion in Byzantium and the Crusader States, but employs a version preserved in Roger of Hoveden’s Chronica.56 The same choice of version is made by Angold in his book, The Fourth Crusade: Event and Context. The latter, however, is only an abridged version of the full report, given by Roger in his earlier work Gesta Regis. The version preserved in the Gesta Regis should therefore be preferred. Brand and Harris make reference to the full version of the report in Roger’s Gesta Regis. Although aware of the version in Ralph’s Ymagines Historiarum, Brand favours and chooses to cite the one in Roger’s work.57 Harris, on the other hand, completely disregards Ralph’s version.58 In Roger’s work the report is given with the following preface: “At the same time the envoys of King Philip [II] of France, who had been dispatched to the emperor of Constantinople, who was called Isaak, have written to the king of France in this fashion.”59 Modern scholars have taken Roger’s testimony at face value.60 However, there is absolutely no reference, direct or indirect, in the report itself to substantiate Roger’s statement. Quite the contrary. The appeal to the reader’s attention – notate fratres – found in both full versions of the report leads to the inescapable conclusion that the addressee was not the French king. I would argue that, as in the case of the anonymous letter preserved in Magnus of Reichersberg’s Chronicon, the report was written by an anonymous Westerner in the East and was sent to Europe, and I will henceforth refer to it as the “anonymous report.” The fact that the report was not written to King Philip II by his ambassadors to Isaak II deprives it of much of the authority ascribed to it by modern scholars. The writer of the anonymous report observed resentfully that “in the palace of the emperor of Constantinople more honor was paid to the envoys of Saladin than to any other persons of the very highest dignity.”61 The remark recalls the equally 55 

Antonia Gransden, Historical Writing in England, c.550 to c.1307 (London, 1974), p. 232. Roger of Hoveden, Chronica, ed. William Stubbs, RS 51, 2 (London, 1869), pp. 355–56; Roger of Hoveden, The Annals of Roger de Hoveden: Comprising the History of England and of Other Countries of Europe from AD 732 to AD 1201, trans. Henry T. Riley, 2 (London, 1853), pp. 99–100. 57  Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin,” pp. 172, n. 13, 173, n. 14, 181; Byzantium, p. 358, n. 5. 58  Harris, Byzantium, p. 214, n. 9. 59  Roger of Hoveden, Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi, p. 51. 60  Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin,” pp. 172, 181; Lilie, Byzantium, p. 237; Harris, Byzantium, p. 129; Jacoby, “Diplomacy,” p. 95; Magdalino, “Isaak II,” pp. 94, n. 4, 97, n. 17; Angelov, “Domestic Opposition,” pp. 50, n. 4, 61, n. 51; Angold, The Fourth Crusade, pp. 64–65. 61  Roger of Hoveden, Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi, p. 52; Ralph of Diceto, Opera Historica, p. 59. 56 

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bitter comment of Magnus’s informant about the lavish palace provided to the Muslim envoys in the Byzantine capital. In addition, according to the anonymous report, “Saladin has delivered all the churches of the Land of Promise to the envoys of the emperor of Constantinople so that sacred rites may be performed in them after the Greek custom.”62 The claim of the anonymous reporter, however, is groundless. Only in May 1192 Isaak had explicitly requested the transfer of the ecclesiastical institutions of Jerusalem to the jurisdiction of the Greek Church but his demand was turned down by Saladin.63 The author of the anonymous report further alleged that “Saladin, by consent of the emperor of Constantinople, sent his idol (idolum) to Constantinople to be publicly worshipped there.”64 The idolum mentioned by the report should be identified with the maumeria mentioned by Magnus’s correspondent.65 The socalled idolum was in fact nothing more than the “mimbar” or pulpit which was to be installed in the mosque in Constantinople, as mentioned earlier. However, in the imagination of the Western reporter, profoundly ignorant about Muslim religious practices, the pulpit seems to have taken the form of an image of Saladin that would be worshipped as a god in Constantinople. The wildest accusations against the Byzantine emperor were to follow. Isaak was reported to have promised the sultan a hundred galleys, and “Saladin has given him [Isaak] the entire Land of Promise [Holy Land], if he will obstruct the march of the Franks [i.e. the Third Crusade].”66 Moreover, according to the report, “if anyone at Constantinople takes the cross, he is immediately captured and thrown into prison.”67 Finally, the anonymous correspondent recorded that, on the very day he left Constantinople, Isaak ordered the expulsion of all Latins from the Byzantine Empire.68 The Byzantine sovereign is once again painted as a close ally of Saladin in an unholy conspiracy against the Third Crusade. Almost all the accusations thrown at Isaak by the anonymous reporter are totally unfounded. As Lilie observes, the Byzantine ruler was not in a position to provide Saladin with a fleet, since he did not possess one.69 The accusation that the sultan would hand the Holy Land over to Isaak if the emperor hampered the Third Crusade is totally preposterous. Saladin would never have promised to hand 62  Roger of Hoveden, Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi, p. 52; Ralph of Diceto, Opera Historica, pp. 59–60. 63  Baha’al-Din Ibn Shaddad, Rare and Excellent History, pp. 201–2. See also Jacoby, “Diplomacy,” p. 100. 64  Roger of Hoveden, Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi, p. 52; Ralph of Diceto, Opera Historica, p. 60. 65  Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin,” p. 172. 66  Roger of Hoveden, Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi, p. 52; Ralph of Diceto, Opera Historica, p. 60. 67  Roger of Hoveden, Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi, p. 52; Ralph of Diceto, Opera Historica, p. 60. 68  Roger of Hoveden, Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi, p. 53; Ralph of Diceto, Opera Historica, p. 60. 69  Lilie, Byzantium, p. 238.



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the Holy Land, the focus of the jihad pietistic propaganda, over to the Byzantines. Such an action – if at all conceivable – would have certainly led to his downfall. As regards the accusation that Isaak ordered the expulsion of all the Latins from the Byzantine Empire, this is not corroborated by other accounts. Besides, as Brand points out, numerous Latin traders, mercenaries and civil servants were staying in Constantinople during the Third Crusade.70 The allegation that the Byzantine ruler imprisoned crusaders in Constantinople is admittedly confirmed by the evidence. In his letter dated 16 November 1189 and sent from Philippopolis to his son Henry in Germany, the Emperor Frederick I himself reported that “many of the pilgrims from our empire … who went to Constantinople to meet us, are held captive there.”71 4.  Conrad of Montferrat’s Letter to Archbishop Baldwin of Canterbury Let us now consider the so-called letter of Conrad of Montferrat, preserved in Roger of Wendover’s Flores Historiarum, and used extensively by Brand, Lilie, and Harris in their discussions. What will in fact be demonstrated below is that such a letter had not been written by Conrad of Montferrat. The addressee of the “letter” is allegedly Archbishop Baldwin of Canterbury. In his “letter,” Conrad first laments the sad state of affairs in three of the four patriarchates in the East: “the see of Jerusalem is separated from the apostolic see [of Rome] … [since] Jerusalem has become extinct, and the inactivity of the Christians is most worthlessly discussed by the Saracens … the see of Constantinople shows no reverence for the see of Rome. The see of Antioch indeed is known to be in extreme distress.”72 Then, Conrad implores the archbishop to “encourage kings, [and] impress upon the faithful” the need to come to the rescue of the Holy Land and deliver it from the “infidels.”73 Finally, Conrad repeats almost verbatim almost all the accusations against Isaak found in the anonymous report, that is, the alleged report of the French envoys. Brand and Harris do not comment on the fact that a great part of the anonymous report is repeated almost verbatim in Conrad’s “letter.” Lilie mistakenly treats Conrad’s “letter,” as preserved in Roger of Wendover’s Flores Historiarum, as the more important source and argues that the alleged report of the French “obviously takes account of it.”74 The key to solving the enigma is found in Ralph of Diceto’s Ymagines Historiarum, a work disregarded by all the aforementioned commentators. As already said, Ralph cites the anonymous report without a preface. Tacked on to the end of the report is a letter of Conrad of Montferrat to Archbishop Baldwin.75 The 70 

Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin,” p. 173. Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris, p. 43; trans., p. 64. The letter is reproduced in the Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris, pp. 40–43; trans., pp 58–64. 72  Roger of Wendover, Flores Historiarum, p. 153. 73  Ibid. 74  Lilie, Byzantium, p. 237. 75  Ralph of Diceto, Opera Historica, pp. 60–62. 71 

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letter was written in Tyre on 20 September 1188 or 1189.76 This is a different version of Conrad’s letter to the one preserved in Roger of Wendover’s Flores Historiarum. Nevertheless, part of Conrad’s letter in Ralph of Diceto’s Ymagines Historiarum is repeated verbatim in the alleged letter of Conrad in Roger of Wendover’s Flores Historiarum. In his letter preserved in Ralph of Diceto’s work, Conrad states that “as the scheme of the world is believed to consist of four elements, likewise the faith of the orthodox was considered to be governed by four sees [the four eastern patriarchates] through the glorious apostolic [see of Rome].”77 However, “the see of Alexandria has ended, and its blossoms thoroughly dried up,” “the see of Jerusalem is separated from the apostolic see [of Rome] … [since] Jerusalem has become extinct … The see of Antioch indeed is known to be in extreme distress. The see of Constantinople obviously shows no reverence for the see of Rome.”78 Conrad concludes that “the apostolic see obviously endures maximum loss of rights, when it loses cities and freedoms and is deprived of its right,” and he puts forward the rhetorical question: “it [the see of Rome] obviously lost its branches, how will it carry fruits?”79 Conrad then proceeds to describe the desolation of Jerusalem and how he had saved Tyre and incurred the enmity of King Guy and the Knights Templar. Finally, he requests Archbishop Baldwin to encourage kings and stir up people to come to the rescue of the Holy Land. No accusations are levelled against Isaak, while the reference to the disobedience of the Church of Constantinople to that of Rome was not intended to arouse anti-Byzantine sentiment; obviously, it merely served Conrad’s rhetorical argumentation. The letter’s purpose was to encourage recruitment for the Third Crusade, not to accuse the Byzantines. Thus it is not difficult to discover what happened. It is known that Roger of Wendover had the work of the earlier chronicler Ralph of Diceto in his study as he wrote, and drew upon it.80 In Ralph’s Ymagines Historiarum, the genuine letter of Conrad to Archbishop Baldwin is tacked on to the end of the alleged report of the French, which, as we have seen, is furnished with no preface. Roger of Wendover assumed that the report was part of Conrad’s letter to Baldwin. Thus having selected, and copied verbatim, part of the anonymous report and part of Conrad’s genuine letter to Baldwin, he constructed a new, spurious “letter” of Conrad to the archbishop. All arguments advanced by modern scholars based on this fake letter are therefore invalid.81 In his article “The Unromantic Death of Richard I,” 76  The editor of the Ymagines Historiarum ascribed the letter to 1188. Edbury has argued that the letter was composed either in 1188 or in 1189. See Edbury, Sources, pp. 167–69. 77  Ralph of Diceto, Opera Historica, p. 60. 78  Ibid., pp. 60–61. 79  Ibid., p. 61. 80  Gransden, Historical Writing, pp. 359–60; F. M. Powicke, “Roger of Wendover and the Coggeshall Chronicle,” English Historical Review 21 (1906), pp. 286–96, at pp. 287, 289 and 293. 81  Some of the modern scholars who use the allegedly “important” letter in their discussions are Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin,” pp. 172, 179, n. 25, 181; Lilie, Byzantium, pp. 237–39; Harris,



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published in 1979, Gillingham was right to advise us to be suspicious of “Roger of Wendover whom even schoolboys are now taught to distrust.”82 The fact that the letter in Roger’s Flores Historiarum is spurious deprives the commentators who argue that a Muslim-Byzantine alliance against the Third Crusade existed of one of their principal sources used to substantiate their thesis. At the same time, the view that an alliance between Isaak and Saladin against the crusaders did not exist is further corroborated. A Medieval Popular Myth: “The Byzantines and Saladin, 1185–1192: Opponents of the Third Crusade” Isaak did not attempt to weaken the German army in order to promote and protect Saladin’s interests or to keep his side of a bargain struck between himself and the sultan. Rather he did so only to make sure the Germans could not pose a danger to Constantinople’s security.83 Isaak could not understand Frederick’s artless sincerity and honesty, and was convinced that the German’s objective was not so much to recapture Jerusalem as to conquer the Byzantine Empire.84 With the very recent exception of Magdalino,85 modern historians have paid little or no attention to the fact that Isaak was particularly prone to superstition and fateful prophecies. This is plainly evidenced in the account of Isaak’s first and second reign by the Byzantine historian Choniates.86 While the German crusading expedition was marching on Jerusalem through Europe, the patriarch of Constantinople, Dositheos (1189–91), who exerted an extraordinary influence on Isaak,87 is said to have prophesied “that the king [Frederick] never proposed to take possession of Palestine, but that his intention was to march against the queen Byzantium, pp. 129–31; Geoffrey Hindley, The Crusades: A History of Armed Pilgrimage and Holy War (London, 2003), p. 126; Angelov, “Domestic Opposition,” pp. 50, n. 4, 61, n. 51. 82  John Gillingham, “The Unromantic Death of Richard I,” Speculum 54 (1979), pp. 18–41, at p. 20. 83  Harris, Byzantium, pp. 132–33. 84  Peter Munz, Frederick Barbarossa: A Study in Medieval Politics (London, 1969), p. 392. In fact, the Byzantine paranoid belief that Frederick coveted the Byzantine Empire dated back to the 1160s. The Byzantine historian Kinnamos three times refers to this subject. According to the historian, in 1161 “a rumour was current that Frederick … was setting his whole nation in motion to attack the Romans’ land.” With the increase of the German emperor’s power in Italy in the middle 1160s, “Manuel himself became concerned as to how he could check his [Frederick’s] advance, lest his unexpected success should turn him against the Romans’ land, at which from a long time back he had cast a greedy eye.” Fear of Frederick reached such heights that the Byzantines imagined that “as he [Frederick] intended to invade the Romans’ land … he commenced to divide it among his followers.” John Kinnamos, Ioannis Cinnami Epitome rerum ab Ioanne et Alexio Comnenis gestarum, ed. Augustus Meineke, Corpus scriptorum historiae Byzantinae (Bonn, 1836), pp. 202, 228, 262; John Kinnamos, Deeds of John and Manuel Comnenus, trans. Charles M. Brand (New York, 1976), pp. 154, 172, 197. 85  Magdalino, “Isaak II,” pp. 96–100. 86  Nicetae Choniatae Historia, pp. 404, 432–33, 557–58; trans., pp. 222, 237–38, 305. 87  Magdalino, “Isaak II,” p. 99.

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of cities [Constantinople], which he would undoubtedly enter through the socalled Xylokerkos postern.”88 Furthermore, according to the author of the alleged report of King Philip II’s envoys, “the prophecy, which a certain old Greek man from Astralix told the lord Walter the Templar … will now be fulfilled, as they say: namely, that the Latins will reign and hold rule in the city of Constantinople, because it was written on the Golden Gate … ‘When the Yellow-haired King of the West shall come, then shall I open of my own accord.’”89 Amidst prophecies of this kind, Isaak, overtaken by panic, “blocked up the [Xylokerkos] postern with lime and baked bricks.”90 The German emperor’s negotiations with the Serbian and Seljuk rulers before setting out for his eastward journey heightened Isaak’s suspicions and fears. The Byzantine ruler’s imagination ran wild. He pictured Frederick giving lands of the Byzantine Empire “as a benefice (in beneficio) to the Grand Count of Serbia”91 and conspiring to capture and “transfer the [Byzantine] Empire to the rule of his son [Frederick VI] the duke of Swabia,”92 who accompanied his father on the Third Crusade. With his fear bordering on paranoia, Isaak decided to stop the Germans by using all the means he could. Since the German crusaders genuinely and sincerely intended to liberate Jerusalem, and not to conquer Constantinople, they failed to appreciate that Isaak’s hostility to them was due to the fact that he regarded the German army as a threat to the safety of the Byzantine capital. In their attempt to rationalize Isaak’s hostile behaviour, the Germans naturally concluded that the Byzantine sovereign was acting in collusion with Saladin. The anonymous author of the Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris offers his interpretation for the motivation behind Isaak’s arrest and imprisonment of the German envoys dispatched to Constantinople to ensure full implementation of the assistance promised by a previous Byzantine embassy to Nuremberg. As the anonymous author alleges, the Byzantine sovereign “desired to offer this favour to his friend and confederate (amico et confederato) Saladin the Saracen, the enemy of the cross and of all Christians.”93 The Germans’ 88 

Nicetae Choniatae Historia, p. 404; trans., p. 222. Roger of Hoveden, Gesta Regis Henrici Secundi, p. 52; Ralph of Diceto, Opera Historica, p. 60. The anonymous Western reporter almost certainly heard the “prophecy” in Constantinople where he was at some point in late 1189 during his travels in the East. 90  Nicetae Choniatae Historia, p. 404; trans., p. 222. 91  Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris, p. 46; trans., p. 68. 92  Magnus of Reichersberg, p. 510. On 25 August 1189, Frederick received letters from Isaak. The Byzantine emperor “said that the friendship, which he had heard had united the lord emperor [Frederick] and the great count [of Serbia], seemed to him greatly grave and suspicious.” Isaak accused Frederick of having given lands of the Byzantine Empire “as a benefice to the Grand Count of Serbia” and conspiring to capture and “transfer the [Byzantine] Empire to the rule of his son [Frederick VI] the duke of Swabia.” Information on the letters of 25 August is provided by the anonymous author of the Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris and a letter of Bishop Dietpold of Passau to Duke Leopold V of Austria. See Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris, pp. 46–47; trans., pp. 68–69; Magnus of Reichersberg, p. 510. 93  Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris, p. 39; trans., p. 57. 89 



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belief that Isaak was in league with Saladin was doubtless formed once the Byzantine ruler’s hostility to the crusaders had become manifest at the end of August 1189. By October, as Choniates informs us, “the Germans contended that nothing else could have convinced the emperor of the Romans [Isaak] to disregard the solemn oaths of the Western Christians except that he had concluded a peace with the ruler of the Saracens, and that, in accordance with their prevailing custom regarding friendship, they had both opened a vein on their chests and offered to each other the blood flowing out therefrom to drink.”94 The date of the letter preserved in Magnus of Reichersberg’s chronicle, of the supposed letter of Sibylla, and of the anonymous report, that is the alleged report of the French, further invalidates the conviction that a conspiracy to destroy the Germans existed between Isaak and Saladin. In Ralph of Diceto the anonymous report is placed under the year 1189. As has been seen, Brand, who disregards Ralph’s account, has conveniently dated the report between September and November 1188.95 The same commentator dated the letter in Magnus of Reichersberg in summer or fall 1188 – he did so based on the fake letter of Conrad which he dated 20 September 1188. Brand’s dating of the documents served his false argument: a Byzantine-Muslim alliance existed and “in the autumn of 1188 … became public knowledge in Western Europe”;96 according to the provisions of this alliance, Isaak had to destroy the Germans who would march through his empire. In actual fact, there is no particular reason to date the letter preserved in Magnus’s chronicle to 1188. I would suggest that, as in the case of the anonymous report, this document was written in 1189. Magnus interpolated it after an account of the German expedition’s difficulties in the European territories of the Byzantine Empire, under the year 1189. In addition, Saladin’s envoys mentioned by both Magnus’s informant and the anonymous report were doubtless the same emissaries mentioned by the author of the Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris; in other words, the sultan’s ambassadors who were in Constantinople in June 1189, to whom Isaak had allegedly given the confiscated horses of the arrested German envoys.97 I would argue that the letter in Magnus’s Chronicon, the anonymous report and the supposed letter of Sibylla (or the report on which the latter letter was based), were written in late 1189, that is, after Isaak’s hostility to the German crusaders became manifest. This dating would explain, first, Magnus’s correspondent’s charge against Isaak that he hated and feared the Latins; and secondly, the striking similarity between the accusations against the Byzantine ruler found in the three documents (namely the letter in Magnus’s chronicle, the anonymous report and the supposed letter of Sibylla) and those occurring in the eyewitness Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris – Isaak’s friendship and alliance with Saladin, the emperor’s 94  95  96  97 

Nicetae Choniatae Historia, pp. 409–10; trans., p. 225. Cf. Jacoby, “Diplomacy,” p. 95, who favours a date in summer 1189. Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin,” p. 172. Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris, pp. 48–49; trans., p. 72.

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favourable treatment of the sultan’s envoys, his imprisonment of crusaders, and his use of poison to eliminate the Germans.98 The fact that the anonymous report, the missive in Magnus’s Chronicon, and the supposed letter of Sibylla were written after Isaak attacked the Germans supports the thesis that I am attempting to defend in this essay: the purported Byzantine-Muslim collusion against the Third Crusade was a myth created by the Latins to make sense of Isaak’s efforts to destroy the Germans. The letter in Magnus’s chronicle, the anonymous report and the supposed letter of Sibylla are nothing more than three elaborate versions of this imaginative medieval myth, aimed at explaining the Byzantine ruler’s behaviour and eventually enshrined as truth. While modern scholars were quick to accept the myth that Isaak had allied himself with Saladin against the Germans, Frederick himself had given no credence to the circulating rumours that his Byzantine counterpart “had concluded a peace with the ruler of the Saracens.”99 By 16 November 1189, with a settlement between Isaak and the Germans nowhere in sight, Frederick had run out of patience with the Byzantine emperor. Therefore, in his letter of the same date to Henry in Germany, the German ruler ordered his son to dispatch envoys to the Italian maritime cities so as to supply him with a fleet for a combined attack on Constantinople. According to the plan, the German crusaders would besiege the imperial capital by land, and the Italian fleet by sea. Henry was also instructed to write to Pope Clement III (1187– 91) to preach a crusade against the Byzantines. In order to justify requesting papal blessing for an attack on Constantinople, Henry was commanded to inform Clement of a vehemently anti-Latin speech delivered by Patriarch Dositheos in the church of Hagia Sophia.100 An accusation against Isaak of collusion with the “infidel” would further justify the German emperor’s demanding the preaching of a crusade against the Byzantine Empire. Nevertheless, nowhere in his letter does Frederick charge the Byzantine ruler with having connived with Saladin against the Germans. The failure of the German emperor’s letter to accuse Isaak of alliance with the “infidel” is of considerable weight. Frederick was certainly in a better position than any other “Latin” to know if an alliance existed between Isaak and Saladin. It should finally be added that as soon as the Germans were across the Hellespont a relieved Isaak changed his attitude to Frederick to whom he sent a tent and golden goblet as gifts.101 The Byzantine emperor did not have to worry about the safety of his capital any longer and further action against the crusaders was unnecessary. Isaak’s fear for the safety of Constantinople was the sole reason for his hostility to the Germans marching through the European territories of his empire. Had the Byzantine sovereign been concerned with Saladin’s interests, he would have continued being aggressive to Frederick. 98 

81–83. 99 

Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris, pp. 39, 43, 48–49, 54–55; trans., pp. 57, 64, 72,

Nicetae Choniatae Historia, pp. 409–10; trans., p. 225. Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris, pp. 42–43; trans., pp. 62–64. 101  Historia de expeditione Friderici imperatoris, p. 73; trans., p. 115. 100 



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Despite the fact that Isaak never agreed with Saladin to destroy the Germans, the story of the alleged connivance between the Byzantine and Muslim rulers seems to have circulated widely among the Latins and ultimately found its way into the pages of the Western chroniclers of the German expedition of the Third Crusade. In his Historia Rerum Anglicarum, written from about 1196 to 1198, the English chronicler William of Newburgh (ca. 1136–ca. 1198) informs us that Isaak, “as it is reported (ut dicitur), after Jerusalem was taken, made a treaty (fœdus) with Saladin, that most atrocious enemy of the Christian name, promising that, by land and sea, he would, in his dominions, prohibit the passage of the Latins into Syria.”102 William of Newburgh labels Isaak as “more faithful to Saladin than to Christ,” and quotes Frederick as denouncing the Byzantine ruler as “one equal to, or rather worse than Saladin.”103 Fanciful accounts of the so-called conspiracy between the Byzantine and Muslim rulers against the German crusading army continued to circulate in the West decades after the Third Crusade. According to the Chronicon Montis Sereni, authored between 1224 and 1225, Isaak, “who had allied himself with Saladin against the Christians, having received from him [the sultan] eight hundred Turkish archers in assistance, intended to prevent by all means the emperor [Frederick] from marching through his empire, despite the fact that peace had been concluded between them by oath.”104 Thus, Isaak went down in Western medieval historiography as an ally of Saladin against the Third Crusade.105 Conclusion In 1962, Brand’s article “The Byzantines and Saladin, 1185–1192: Opponents of the Third Crusade” legitimized a medieval myth. In 2003, Harris rejected it. However, he failed to adequately support his view and, as noted above, many scholars remained unconvinced (see notes 25–29) and continued to maintain the false conviction that an alliance had existed between Isaak and Saladin against the German army of the Third Crusade. In this paper I have analysed, discussed and checked the authenticity and dating of the Latin sources that allegedly demonstrate the existence of a Byzantine-Muslim alliance. The purpose is to invalidate Brand’s 102  William of Newburgh, Historia Rerum Anglicarum, in Chronicles of the Reigns of Stephen, Henry II, and Richard I, ed. Richard Howlett, RS 82, 1 (London, 1884), p. 326; William of Newburgh, The History of William of Newburgh, trans. Joseph Stevenson (London, 1856), pp. 573–74. 103  William of Newburgh, Historia Rerum Anglicarum, p. 326; trans., p. 574. 104  Chronicon Montis Sereni, ed. Ernest Ehrenfeuchter, MGH SS 23 (Hanover, 1874), pp. 130–226, at p. 161. 105  As in the case of Isaak II, the hostility of Isaak Komnenos of Cyprus towards the English expedition of the Third Crusade was interpreted by the crusaders in the following of King Richard I (1189–99) as a sign of collusion with Saladin, and the ruler of Cyprus was imagined to have exchanged blood with the sultan. See Savvas Neocleous, “Imaging Isaak of Cyprus (1184–91) and the Cypriots: Evidence from the Western Historiography of the Third Crusade,” in From Holy War to Peaceful Co-Habitation (CEU Medievalia), ed. József Laszlovszky and Zsolt Hunyadi (forthcoming).

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theory and reinforce the thesis that there was no complicity between the Byzantine and the Muslim rulers. The supposed conspiracy was a popular Latin myth developed in an attempt to explain Isaak’s efforts to destroy the German expedition of the Third Crusade. To answer the question posed by the title: Isaak and Saladin were indeed opponents of the Third Crusade. However, there was no alliance between the Byzantine and Muslim rulers against the German crusaders.106

106  Readers are encouraged to read this paper in conjunction with the author’s later article “Byzantine-Muslim Conspiracies against the Crusades: History and Myth,” Journal of Medieval History 36 (2010), pp. 253–74.

New Perspectives on the Old French Continuations of William of Tyre Peter W. Edbury Cardiff University [email protected] As is well known, it was during the 1170s and early 1180s that Archbishop William of Tyre was at work on his history of the crusades and the Frankish states in the East which covers the period from the First Crusade to 1184. Then, at some point in the first decades of the thirteenth century, his work was translated from the original Latin into French. Most of the manuscripts of the translation include additions that were composed in French and which take the story down to nearer the date they were produced. Although historians examining the period before 1184 will turn in the first instance to William’s original Latin text rather than to the French translation, everyone who has studied the history of the Latin East between 1184 and 1277 has had to make use of the additional material which is usually referred to as The Old French Continuations of William of Tyre or Eracles. Closely associated with the Continuations is the text known by its nineteenth-century title as La Chronique d’Ernoul et de Bernard le Trésorier. The significance of these narratives is considerable. Together they constitute the fullest continuous account of events in the Frankish territories in the Levant between 1184 and 1277. Their interest lies partly in the historical information they contain, but also in their capacity to mirror the political and cultural preoccupations of their authors and their original audience. The large number of surviving manuscripts is a pointer to the importance of these texts in the Middle Ages: no less than fifty-one manuscripts of the French translation of William of Tyre dating from before 1500, forty-five of which contain continuations, have found their way into public collections in Europe and the United States, while the text of Ernoul-Bernard is preserved in eight medieval manuscripts. In an earlier paper in this journal I made a start on investigating the manuscript tradition of the French translation of William of Tyre. I turn now to the Continuations and Ernoul-Bernard and offer some provisional conclusions concerning the An earlier version of this paper was given at the SSCLE conference held at Avignon in August 2008.   Jaroslav Folda, “Manuscripts of the History of Outremer by William of Tyre: A Handlist,” Scriptorium 27 (1973), pp. 90–95. I follow Folda’s ennumeration: thus for example “F38” denotes item 38 in Folda’s catalogue.   Peter W. Edbury, “The French Translation of William of Tyre’s Historia: The Manuscript Tradition,” Crusades 6 (2007), pp. 69–105. See also idem, “The Old French William of Tyre and the Origins of the Templars,” in Knighthoods of Christ: Essays on the History of the Crusades and the Knights Templar Presented to Malcolm Barber, ed. Norman Housley (Aldershot, 2007), pp. 151–64; “The Old French William of Tyre, the Templars and the Assassin Envoy,” in The Hospitallers, the

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development and transmission of the material they contain. Although our present state of knowledge does not provide a precise date for the translation, the fact that a few of the manuscripts that contain what is clearly an early form of the French version of William’s history end in the same place as his Latin text is a convincing indication that the translation originally circulated without any additional material. What then happened – and this development would seem to belong to the 1230s – is that someone extended William’s narrative by grafting a version of the ErnoulBernard text on at the end. It was a simple matter of jettisoning the material from before 1184 to be found in Ernoul-Bernard, and using what was left to take the story on to 1231. Fourteen of the forty-five manuscripts with the Continuations end in the same place as Ernoul-Bernard, and several more – perhaps as many as eight – which are mutilated at the end and so lack their concluding folios probably did. Of the rest, thirteen contain the Ernoul-Bernard continuation plus a further continuation covering the period 1231–61 which is known as the Rothelin Continuation, and six (all of them either copied in Acre or apparently derived from Acre manuscripts), contain the Ernoul-Bernard continuation and then, for the period from 1231 onwards, a version of a totally different continuation which is sometimes known as the Acre Continuation. That leaves four others belonging to the Acre group of manuscripts to which I shall return later. Particular attention, however, should be drawn to one Western manuscript, the British Library, Henry Yates Thompson ms. 12 (F38). This manuscript may be of English provenance and can be dated to the middle years of the thirteenth century; it could well be the earliest surviving manuscript with a continuation – but what makes it remarkable is the fact that, besides containing the Ernoul-Bernard continuation, it also, uniquely, has earlier passages from Ernoul-Bernard interpolated into the text of the translation of William’s work at appropriate places. The eight medieval manuscripts of Ernoul-Bernard divide into two groups: five for Ernoul, which end either in 1227, with the excommunication of the Emperor Frederick II of Hohenstaufen by Pope Gregory IX, or in 1229 with Frederick II’s return to Italy from the Holy Land; and three – two of which bear the name of Bernard, treasurer of the abbey of Corbie – which end in 1231 with John of Brienne’s assumption of authority in Constantinople. It is clear that the textual tradition of this work was developing rapidly in the late 1220s and early 1230s. What would appear to be the earliest version of the Ernoul text (as represented by the Bern Burgerbibliothek mss 41 (F16) and 115 (F17) and the St. Omer Bibliothèque municipale ms. 722 (F20)) lacks several important passages including the story of the killing of the Muslim sorceress by a group of sergeants in the Christian army in 1187 on the eve of Hattin, and the visit of two unnamed priests, one of whom can

Mediterranean and Europe from the Crusades to the Ottomans, ed. Karl Borchardt, Nikolas Jaspert and Helen Nicholson (Aldershot, 2007), pp. 25–37.   Edbury, “French Translation,” pp. 73–74.



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readily be identified as St. Francis, to the sultan of Egypt in 1219. The five Ernoul manuscripts (but not the three Bernard manuscripts) identify Ernoul, the squire of Balian of Ibelin, as the original author of a particular episode which occurred in 1187. How much else he wrote is difficult to ascertain, although John Gillingham’s suggestion that his account ended with the description of the siege of Tyre at the end of that same year would seem to be correct. Balian, and also Conrad of Montferrat, had featured prominently in the events of 1187; thereafter they both disappear almost completely from the story, and it is likely that other, anonymous, writers took over who then used Ernoul’s work and perhaps other existing compositions to fashion a history which, like so much other medieval historical narrative, is essentially a composite work. It is possible that the versions of Ernoul-Bernard that have been transmitted to posterity were put together in the late 1220s and early 1230s by someone associated with John of Brienne whose immediate purpose was to explain John’s by then troubled relationship with Frederick II and how it was that he came to be governing Constantinople. Whoever first added the continuation to the end of the translation of William of Tyre was undoubtedly working from a Bernard the Treasurer manuscript: it ended in 1231, and it lacked the reference to Ernoul as the originator of the description of the 1187 incident. I am currently engaged in an analysis of all the manuscripts of the Continuations in an attempt to establish which stand closest to the Bernard text and which represent later developments, but this task is hampered by the fact that all three surviving Bernard manuscripts are comparatively late, dating to the fourteenth century or, at earliest, the very end of the thirteenth. However, it is already clear that the text of the Continuations in the already-mentioned British Library, Henry Yates Thompson ms. 12 (F38) has an extremely close affinity with the Bernard the Treasurer text preserved in the Bern Burgerbibliothek ms. 113 (F24). Unfortunately the British Library manuscript, which, as mentioned, contains one of the earliest, if not the earliest, surviving manuscript of the Continuations, has never been used in the preparation of a printed edition, and the Bern manuscript, although known to Louis de Mas Latrie, the nineteenth-century editor of Ernoul-Bernard, was largely disregarded by him. There is no particular reason to assume that all the manuscripts containing the Ernoul-Bernard continuation go back to a single original; in preparing the manuscripts of the Old French William of Tyre and its continuations, different scribes could have employed different versions of the Ernoul-Bernard text. It may, however, prove significant that, with one exception, all the manuscripts of the   See Chronique d’Ernoul et de Bernard le Trésorier, ed. Louis de Mas Latrie (Paris, 1871), pp. 163–66, 431–35.   Ibid., pp. 149–50.   John Gillingham, “Roger of Howden on Crusade,” in idem, Richard Coeur de Lion: Kingship, Chivalry and War in the Twelfth Century (London and Rio Grande, 1994), p. 147, n. 33.   For a recent description of the Bern manuscript and its contents see http://www.hrionline.ac.uk/ partonopeus/Bmanuscriptnotes.htm (accessed 21 Feb. 2010).

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Continuations share two significant features: they lack the extended description of Jerusalem that is to be found in all the Ernoul and Bernard manuscripts, and they include the story of the election and moral laxity of the Patriarch Eraclius which is repositioned from the pre-1184 portion of the Ernoul-Bernard narrative. This one exception, which includes the description of Jerusalem and lacks the Eraclius story, is an Acre manuscript, the Paris BN ms. fr. 9086 (F50); this manuscript at least would therefore appear to belong in an independent tradition, but further investigation is still needed to establish whether the others were all derived from a single Urtext. Investigations into the manuscripts prove what many scholars have long suspected: that we are ill-served by the printed editions. The 1871 edition of Ernoul-Bernard by Louis de Mas Latrie failed to take into account two manuscripts containing the earlier versions of the Ernoul text; the editor’s choice of the fourteenth-century Brussels Bibliothèque royale ms. 11142 (F18) as his base is questionable, and his use of some of the manuscripts of the William of Tyre Continuations and Francesco Pipino’s fourteenth-century Latin translation in his apparatus only serves to add further confusion.10 With regard to the Ernoul-Bernard version of the continuation, we are even worse off. It was published by the Maurists, Martène and Durand, as long ago as 1729, and that edition remains the best we have.11 They chose a manuscript copied in Rome in 1295 – it is now the Paris BN ms. fr. 9082 (F77) – which, although they were not to know, contains a text that is clearly far removed from the original and appears to include a number of quirky readings and chapter divisions that set it apart from all the others. Unfortunately, later editors followed their lead in making use of it. It was re-edited in an inferior edition by Guizot in 1824,12 and then consigned to the small print in the Recueil des historiens des croisades. Historiens occcidentaux, 2, where it is labelled ms. G.13 Historians are, of course, most familiar with the Continuations of William of Tyre as it is presented in the Recueil edition of 1859. The editors chose to base their edition on the Paris BN ms. fr. 2628 (F73), which provided a much fuller narrative than Ernoul-Bernard and one that extends as far as 1264. Undeterred by the fact that only one other medieval manuscript contains this text for the period 1184– 1231, as against forty-one with the Ernoul-Bernard continuation, they printed this account – sometimes known as the Colbert-Fontainebleau Continuation – in large

 

Chronique d’Ernoul, pp. 82–87, 188–210. For a description of this manuscript, see Jaroslav Folda, Crusader Manuscript Illumination at Saint-Jean d’Acre, 1275–1291 (Princeton, 1976), p. 175, and see plate 1. 10  Chronique d’Ernoul, pp. xxiv–xxix. 11  Veterum Scriptorum et Monumentorum … amplissa Collectio, ed. Edmond Martène and Ursin Durand, 9 vols. (Paris, 1724–33), 5:581–752. 12  François Pierre Guillaume Guizot, Collection des mémoires relatifs à l’histoire de France (Paris, 1823–35), p. 19. 13  For a description, see Folda, Crusader Manuscript Illumination, pp. 200–204 .  



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print, thus ensuring that it would henceforth be regarded as the principal version.14 In fact, the Colbert-Fontainebleau Continuation text represents a later recension, dating at the earliest to the late 1230s or early 1240s. What seems to have happened is that someone working in the Latin East took a version of the Ernoul-Bernard continuation and expanded large parts of it. The new author largely left the sections dealing with affairs in the West, such as the rise to power of Frederick II or the account of the Fourth Crusade, alone; what attracted his attention were events in the East from the time of the Third Crusade onwards (p. 126 in the Recueil edition) as well as a scattering of earlier episodes including the battle of Hattin. Once we get past the account of the events of 1187 and the end of the section supposedly written by historical Ernoul, we find that the Ernoul-Bernard’s treatment of the internal history of the Latin East is for the most part sketchy. The new version filled in the gaps, and from 1205 onwards (p. 305 in the Recueil edition) it provided a completely new account. This narrative extended well beyond 1231 to include a description of the civil wars sparked by the crusade of Frederick II. It is not hard to see why the nineteenth-century editors decided to give the Colbert-Fontainebleau Continuation prominence. Quite simply, it is much more informative. Although only two manuscripts give this text for the period before 1231, several more – either copied in Acre or derived from those that were – gave the Ernoul-Bernard continuation to 1231 and then pasted on the Colbert-Fontainebleau account of the 1230s, picking it up more or less where Ernoul-Bernard left off (at Recueil, p. 380). The accounts were subsequently supplemented to bring the story further on into the thirteenth century. Beginning with the year 1248, a version of the Annales de Terre Sainte was employed, padded out with other material, some of which would seem to have come from the continuation of the chronicle of Guillaume de Nangis. I suspect that the Colbert-Fontainebleau Continuation first made its appearance in the Latin East in the early 1240s. It was certainly in existence by the time Philip of Novara came to write his history of the Ibelin–Lombard wars as he incorporated material from it into the later sections of his own work.15 The story, however, does not end there. Further revisions and expansions were being made, probably in Acre later in the 1240s, and these generated the texts to be found in two important manuscripts: the Lyon, Bibliothèque de la Ville, ms. 828 (F72), and the Florence, Bibliotheca Medicea Laurenziana, ms. Pluteus LXI, 10 (F70). Both manuscripts were copied in Acre.16 To understand how these texts relate to the others we need to keep in mind the propensity of copyists to switch exemplars. Indeed, as I have argued elsewhere, it would seem that in the 14  L’estoire de Eracles empereur et la conqueste de la terre d’Outremer; c’est la continuation de l’estoire de Guillaume arcevesque de Sur, RHC Oc 2:1–481. 15  Filippo da Novara, Guerra di Federico II in Oriente (1223–1242), ed. Silvio Melani (Naples, 1994), pp. 210–40 passim (where the shared passages are indicated in bold type). 16  For an edition of the unique passages in these manuscripts, see La Continuation de Guillaume de Tyre (1184–1197), ed. Margaret Ruth Morgan (Paris, 1982). For a challenge to Morgan’s arguments for the primacy of the Lyon Eracles, see Peter W. Edbury, “The Lyon Eracles and the Old French Continuations of William of Tyre,” in Montjoie, pp. 139–53.

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Acre scriptorium copyists worked from unbound signatures that sometimes got muddled.17 That would explain how it is that the Florence manuscript changes abruptly from following the Ernoul-Bernard continuation to the new material for the period 1190–97 and then back again. The Lyon manuscript – often known as the Lyon Eracles – provides a text that would seem to have been adapted from the Colbert-Fontainebleau Continuation; the account of the years 1187–91 alternates between following that version and providing a new narrative; from 1191 to 1197 it gives us a continuous new narrative, albeit one which in general terms keeps to the already established framework. The Lyon Eracles then goes back to following the Ernoul-Bernard continuation for the period 1197–1231. It is possible that the author of this recension composed more than has survived, but, because a copyist changed exemplars when relating the events of 1197, this material has been lost. (It should be added that although only two manuscripts give the full text of the Colbert-Fontainebleau Continuation for 1184–1231, there is a third manuscript, the Paris BN ms. fr. 2631 (F74) – this is of Italian provenance from the late thirteenth century – that reproduces a section from that recension embedded in what is otherwise a characteristically Acre version of the Ernoul-Bernard continuation; sure enough, this section is about the right length to have originally filled an eightfolio signature.) While later in the thirteenth century those copies of the Old French William of Tyre that were being made in Acre were given further continuations to take the narrative closer to the time of production, in the West a different text, known as the Rothelin Continuation, which described events from the late 1230s to 1261, came to be added to the end of the Ernoul-Bernard continuation.18 This may have been originally conceived as an independent work, but it only survives as an appendage to the Old French William of Tyre. It proved to be particularly popular in France, presumably as it gave a good account of St. Louis’s crusade to Egypt; most, if not all, the manuscripts with this continuation are of French provenance, and most of them date from the early decades of the fourteenth century, a period in which there was much talk at the French royal court of launching a new crusade. These texts do not exist in a vacuum. Between the late 1220s and the late 1240s there was much writing and rewriting taking place to produce the various versions of these narratives that survive. In other words, that was a highly creative period which generated successive accounts of the history of the crusades and the Latin East from the time of the First Crusade to the present. There can be no doubt that the demand for this literature would have been stimulated by, and would have reflected, the crusading endeavours in the West, especially in France. The years 1228–29 had seen Frederick II’s belated crusade to the East; in 1234 the pope proclaimed a new crusade which was to become the Barons’ Crusade of 1239–41 – recently given 17 

Edbury, “French Translation,” pp. 83–89, esp. p. 85. Continuation de Guillaume de Tyr, de 1229 à 1261 dite du manuscrit de Rothelin, RHC Oc 2:483–639. See Margaret Ruth Morgan, “The Rothelin Continuation of William of Tyre,” in Outremer, pp. 244–57. 18 



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the prominence it deserves thanks to Michael Lower’s fine monograph;19 from the end of 1244 preparations were afoot for King Louis IX’s crusade of 1248–54. The further continuations into the second half of the thirteenth century, and the continued production of manuscripts in both Acre and northern France, reflect a continuing interest in the West in the crusades and fortunes of the Latin East which, at the French royal court, was to remain strong until the outbreak of the Hundred Years’ War.

19 

2005).

Michael Lower, The Barons’ Crusade: A Call to Arms and its Consequences (Philadelphia,

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Swicherio miles cividalese e le origini della Quinta crociata Bruno Figliuolo Università di Udine [email protected] Summary On 1 August 1213 Swicherio de Pertica, miles of Cividale del Friuli in the patriarchate of Aquileia, made his will before going to the Holy Land. He was not a simple pilgrim but a knight of high social status and a councillor of the patriarch, Wolfger of Ehrla, who had himself been on crusade in 1197–98. It is likely that Swicherio was sent to the Holy Land as a papal legate, with patriarchal assent, for the purpose of studying the local situation during the period that Pope Innocent III was planning for the Fifth Crusade.

Il primo agosto del 1213, a Cividale del Friuli, il miles Swicherio si reca presso il notaio Wolrico, allo scopo di far rogare il proprio testamento, giacché sta per intraprendere un pellegrinaggio in Terrasanta: “disponens peregrinationis causa sepulchrum Ihesu Christi visitare et iam in procinctu existens arripiendi itineris.” Pochissimo si sa della sua persona. Prima di quella data egli compare infatti, in qualità di semplice teste, in un atto rogato sempre a Cividale il 24 febbraio del 1212, con il quale Sofia, badessa del monastero di S. Maria in Valle, investiva di una terra di proprietà del cenobio i fratelli Iuan e Bussinut. Già allora si fregiava del titolo di miles. In uno dei primi mesi dell’anno successivo egli entra a far parte della ristretta cerchia dei consiglieri patriarcali. La testimonianza che registra la notizia pone però alcuni problemi interpretativi, benché non vi sia ragione di dubitare della sua autenticità. L’affermazione si trova nella Storia dei Patriarchi di Aquileia dell’erudito cividalese Marcantonio Nicoletti, membro di una stirpe di notai e notaio egli stesso, nato all’incirca nel 1536 e morto nel 1598. Nell’opera, pervenutaci in una bella trascrizione della fine del Settecento, opera del canonico cividalese e archivista del Capitolo, Giovanni Battista Belgrado, si dice genericamente, nel trattare questioni avvenute nel 1213, che il patriarca di Aquileia Ringraziamenti non formali, per vari suggerimenti fornitimi, devo ai colleghi e amici Maurizio d’Arcano Grattoni e Giuseppina Azzarello.   Il documento è edito più avanti. L’Archivio Capitolare di Cividale (d’ora in avanti ACC) si trova in deposito presso il locale Museo Archeologico Nazionale.   Le carte del monastero femminile di S. Maria in Valle di Cividale (secoli XI–XIII), ed. Elena Maffei, Fonti per la Storia della Chiesa in Friuli 9 (Udine, 2006), n. 9, p. 15: “In presentia Swicheri militis.”

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e già vescovo di Passau, Wolfger di Erla, “tratto gl’occhi alle cure temporali, creò suoi consiglieri Vecelotto di Prata, Valterpertoldo, Giovanni, e Volframo di Zuccula, e Spilinbergo, Pileo di Moruzo, Andreotto di Udine, Suvichero, Egidio, Corado, Veciglio di Porzia, Giovanni, ed Ermanno de Portis, i quali oltre gl’altri deputati del Parlamento sostenevano tutti i negozii emergenti del Patriarcato.” Come si vede, nell’atto parafrasato dal notaio cividalese nulla si dice esplicitamente della stirpe di Swicherio. Certamente, comunque, il suo nome va accostato a quello di Veciglio di Porcia, giacché l’elenco raggruppa sempre le persone citate sulla base dell’ultimo nome, di cui si fornisce il cognome o il gentilizio: Valterpertoldo, Giovanni e suo figlio Volframo sono infatti membri della schiatta dei signori di Zuccola e Spilimbergo (e tutti e tre compaiono tra i convenuti al testamento di Swicherio), e Giovanni ed Ermanno sono entrambi membri della nobile famiglia cividalese dei de Portis (e del pari entrambi sono menzionati, come beneficiari, nel testamento di Swicherio). Inoltre, è tutt’altro che escluso che l’Egidio che lo segue immediatamente nell’elenco riportato dal Nicoletti ne sia il padre. Nel testamento del 1213, infatti, risulta che il “bone memorie pater antefati Swikeri” si chiamava appunto Egidio. Soprattutto, però, è da notare che due altri eruditi locali che citano questo passo del manoscritto del Nicoletti, vale a dire Giovanni Francesco Palladio degli Ulivi, che lo legge probabilmente in originale, e comunque non certo nella trascrizione a noi nota, giacché pubblica la propria opera nel 1660; e Francesco di Manzano, che invece lo cita esplicitamente dalla trascrizione del Belgrado, riportano il gentilizio di Vecelotto non come di Porcia ma come di Pertica. Ora, proprio nel testamento di Swicherio che si sta esaminando, oltre che in qualche atto del medesimo periodo, tra i testi compaiono proprio un Corrado de Pertica e un Wecilio de Pertica, qualificati entrambi come canonici della collegiata di S. Maria Maggiore di Cividale. Più che probabile, allora, che anche Egidio e Swicherio, forse padre e figlio, come si è detto, fossero membri della famiglia de Pertica. Una famiglia che deve il proprio nome alla località di provenienza: quel luogo Pertica,

 

Udine, Biblioteca Civica, Fondo Joppi, MS 82, p. 120. Giovanni Francesco Palladio degli Ulivi, Historie della Provincia del Friuli, 2 vols. (Udine, 1660; rist. an., Bologna, 1972), 1:205, senza citazione e in parafrasi, dove erroneamente si dice che i vari feudatari nominati vennero dal patriarca creati suoi cavalieri, invece che consiglieri: “Creò suoi cavalieri Uccelletto da Prata, Valterpertoldo, Giovanni, e Volframo di Spilimbergo, Bellio di Morutio, Andreotto degli Andreotti di Udine, Succherio, Egidio, Corrado, et Usilio da Pertica, Giovanni et Erasmo de Portis, i quali oltre gli altri deputati dal Parlamento, maneggiavano all’hora tutti gli affari più rilevanti del Patriarchato”; e Francesco di Manzano, Annali del Friuli ovvero raccolta delle cose storiche appartenenti a questa regione, 7 vols. (Udine, 1858–79; rist. an., Bologna, 1975), 2:230, dove si cita proprio il ms. del Nicoletti oggi superstite (cui è ora allegata una biografia dell’autore proprio opera del di Manzano) dove pure si definisce Veciglio come di Pertica, invece che di Porcia: “Creò suoi consiglieri Vecelotto da Prata, Valterpertoldo, Giovanni e Volframo di Zuccula e Spilimbergo, Pelio di Muruzio, Andreotto di Udine, Succichero, Egidio, Corrado, Veciglio di Pertica, Giovanni ed Ermanno de Portis. Questi, oltre gli altri deputati del Parlamento, sostenevano tutti i negozii emergenti del Patriarcato.” Ibid., p. 229, si trova anche un rapido cenno al testamento di Swicherio.   Per es. ACC, Pergamene, p. 29, n. 28 (già 24), del 20 febbraio 1213, in originale.  



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dove sorgeva una chiesa intitolata a S. Stefano, di cui resta oggi chiara traccia nella via della Prepositura di S. Stefano, nel borgo S. Pietro della città, entro l’espansione muraria bassomedioevale. Si trattava di un luogo in origine cimiteriale, che richiama quelle antiche pertiche ricordate da Paolo Diacono come caratteristiche del culto dei morti longobardo. Non molti anni più tardi, attorno alla metà del Duecento, un ramo della famiglia mutò il proprio nome in quello più celebre di Boiani, con il quale attraversò onoratamente molti secoli di storia cividalese, sempre in posizione eminente nel ristretto nucleo del patriziato cittadino. Il testamento di Swicherio ci fornisce qualche altro particolare ancora sulla sua persona e la sua stirpe. Anzitutto, egli doveva essere di etnia germanica. Non lo suggerisce solo la sua onomastica ma anche il fatto che due suoi cugini, Wolrico ed Enrico, fratelli, siano originari della Carniola. La sua famiglia si era però già da qualche tempo trasferita a Cividale: lo dimostra il fatto che già suo padre, Egidio, aveva posseduto un manso in Gagliano, località nei pressi di Cividale, poi donato al capitolo cittadino; e che anch’egli si senta così legato alla chiesa cittadina da lasciarle la maggior parte dei propri beni, che certo non a caso si trovano tutti all’interno o negli immediati dintorni della città: una “curia cum domibus” entro la cinta muraria cittadina; quattro vigne tra Cividale e Teyzanum (l’odierna Sanguarzo); un castagneto in Prestento; tre campi in Area Zerana; il manso in Gagliano, la cui donazione, già effettuata dal padre Egidio, egli conferma; una vigna in San Pantaleone e un’altra in Pino, località da collocare presso l’attuale chiesa di S. Pantaleone Madonna della Salette, lungo la strada che da Cividale conduce alla frazione di Rualis. Oltre ai due già menzionati cugini, Swicherio ha una sorella, Adelaita, e un nipote, Coculo, figlio di quest’ultima. Non sappiamo invece in che rapporti fosse con Wolrissa, figlio di Carlo, ed Elinpurga, che in ogni caso egli definisce nell’atto, accanto ai parenti già richiamati, “proprios et proprias suas.” Che un po’ prima del 1213, probabilmente nel 1211 o al massimo 1212, il parlamento cui fa cenno la testimonianza riportata da Nicoletti abbia avuto effettivamente luogo, lo conferma un documento pure oggi perduto ma trascritto dall’erudito abate udinese Giuseppe Bianchi, studioso sempre assai attendibile, verso la metà del XIX secolo. Il patriarca, infatti, in una lettera datata genericamente agosto, Udine, ma posta dal suo trascrittore tra gli atti del 1211, invita la città di Gemona a inviare propri rappresentanti al parlamento (“generale colloquium”)

  Historia Langobardorum, ed. Lidia Capo (Milano, 1992), p. 282: “Ad Perticas autem locus [a Pavia] ipse ideo dicitur, quia ibi olim perticae, id est trabes, erectae steterant, quae ob hanc causam iuxta morem Langobardorum poni solebant: si quis enim in aliqua parte aut in bello aut quomodocumque extinctus fuisset, consanguinei eius intra sepulchra sua perticam figebant, in cuius summitate columbam ex ligno factam ponebant, quae illuc versa esset, ubi illorum dilectus obisset, scilicet ut sciri possit, in qua parte is qui defunctus fuerat quiesceret.” Cfr. pure ibid., p. 356, per Benevento.   Andrea Tilatti, Benvenuta Boiani. Teoria e storia della vita religiosa femminile nella Cividale del secondo Duecento, Fonti e studi di storia veneta 19 (Trieste, 1994), in particolare, sulla famiglia, pp. 42 ss. e la tavola genealogica a p. 29.

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che si sarebbe “celebrato” di lì a poco, nella prima domenica di settembre, a San Daniele. Resta a questo punto da chiedersi perché un cavaliere certamente di origini germaniche, inserito nei ranghi più alti della feudalità patriarcale e appena promosso nel ristretto numero dei consiglieri di corte, abbia deciso di abbandonare i propri uffici per recarsi in Terrasanta. Certo, risulta difficile credere che lo abbia fatto sponte propria. La tradizione della partecipazione alla crociata era in verità assai diffusa presso la dinastia imperiale sveva e la sua corte, specie negli anni immediatamente seguenti la caduta di Gerusalemme nelle mani di Saladino. Proprio nel corso di un pellegrinaggio in Terrasanta aveva perduto la vita, il 3 novembre del 1190, il predecessore di Wolfger sulla cattedra di Passau, Diopoldo di Berg; e lo stesso Wolfger si era recato in Palestina, alla crociata, al seguito del duca Federico d’Austria, nel 1197–98.10 Di sicuro, dunque, la decisione di Swicherio è ben ponderata e viene senza dubbio almeno condivisa, se non proposta, dal patriarca. Essa cade anzi, a ben guardare, in un momento molto particolare della vicenda politica sia pontificia che imperiale, che conviene analizzare con attenzione. Il 19 aprile del 1213 papa Innocenzo III indice un concilio ecumenico, da tenersi a Roma entro due anni, allo scopo di affrontare due temi principali: “recuperationem Terrae Sanctae ac reformationem universalis Ecclesiae.” Quanto al primo punto, obiettivo esplicito del pontefice era quello di organizzare una vera e propria crociata, “inducendos principes et populos christianos ad succensum et subsidium Terrae Sanctae.” Nel frattempo, nelle more dell’organizzazione del concilio, a Roma si deliberava di inviare dei legati pontifici nelle singole province della cristianità, per propagandare la volontà papale e per reclutare uomini che si recassero in Terrasanta a studiare da presso la situazione politica e militare della regione.11   Udine, Biblioteca Civica, Fondo Principale, MS 899, vol. 1, n. 29. Sul parlamento in Friuli, v. Pier Silverio Leicht, Il Parlamento friulano, 2 vols. (Bologna, 1907–55; rist. an. Udine, 1999), che ne individua però l’origine solo nel 1228 (ibid., 1:64). Manca uno studio sulla figura e l’opera del “bibliotecario civico” udinese Giuseppe Bianchi (1789–1868), che ci ha lasciato una monumentale raccolta di trascrizioni, in 68 voll. manoscritti, dei documenti friulani tra 1200 e 1400; su di lui v. comunque Vincenzo Joppi. 1824–1900. Atti del Convegno di studi, Udine, 30 novembre 2000, ed. Francesca Tamburlini e Romano Vecchiet (Udine, 2004), ad vocem.   Sulle caratteristiche dei milites cittadini italiani e sul carattere sostanzialmente tedesco della feudalità patriarchina, v. Stefano Gasparri, I milites cittadini. Studi sulla cavalleria in Italia, Nuovi studi storici dell’Istituto Storico Italiano per il Medioevo 19 (Roma, 1992), in specie pp. 29–30. Sull’assetto del patriarcato in quei secoli, cfr. Heinrich Schmidinger, Patriarch und Landesherr. Die weltliche Herrschaft der Patriarchen von Aquileia bis zum Ende der Staufer (Graz-Köln, 1954); idem, “Il patriarcato di Aquileja,” in I poteri temporali dei Vescovi in Italia e in Germania nel Medioevo, ed. Carlo Guido Mor e Heinrich Schmidinger, Annali dell’Istituto storico italo-germanico, Quaderno 3 (Bologna, 1979), pp. 141–75. 10  Pio Paschini, “Il patriarcato di Wolfger di Ellenbrechtskirchen (1204–1218),” in Memorie Storiche Forogiuliesi 10 (1914), pp. 361–413, e 11 (1915), pp. 20–39, in particolare in 10:363–64. Cfr. pure ora pure Reinhard Härtel, “Folchero da Erla,” in Nuovo Liruti. Dizionario biografico dei Friulani. 1. Il Medioevo, ed. Cesare Scalon, 2 vols. (Udine, 2006), 1:324–33, a p. 325. 11  PL 216:823–27: “Disposuimus interim per viros prudentes in singulis provinciis plenius explorare quae apostolicae provisionis limam exposcunt, et praemittere viros idoneos ad Terrae Sanctae



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Negli stessi giorni Innocenzo III scriveva anche al governatore di Damasco e Babilonia, al-Adil, chiedendogli di lasciare pacificamente Gerusalemme e l’intera Terrasanta, di cui era appena rientrato in possesso, dopo che gli era stata strappata dal fratello, il celebre Saladino; di liberare i prigionieri cristiani e di rispettare gli ambasciatori che gli avrebbe inviato.12 L’offensiva politico-diplomatica pontificia si collocava in un momento assai delicato dell’assetto generale del potere sia papale che imperiale. Innocenzo III aveva infatti da poco scomunicato l’imperatore Ottone IV (nel 1210), e deciso di appoggiare apertamente il suo antagonista, il giovanissimo Federico di Svevia, appena eletto re di Germania (9 dicembre 1212). L’appello alla crociata si configurava così anche come un’aperta richiesta di appoggio al giovane rampollo svevo. L’invio di legati pontifici in tutte le province cristiane si configurava dunque come una esplicita pressione verso le varie autorità politiche e territoriali locali affinché assumessero una posizione favorevole all’iniziativa papale.13 La questione si colorava di connotati particolarmente rilevanti proprio nel patriarcato di Aquileia, una formazione politico-territoriale tradizionalmente filoimperiale. Wofger assunse nella circostanza una posizione netta: nel momento in cui Ottone IV venne scomunicato, egli stabilì di abbracciare decisamente la parte pontificia e dunque federiciana. Il miles Swicherio, allora, certo in ottemperanza a un ordine patriarcale, rispose a questa precisa richiesta e auspicio papali: che cioè “idoneos homines” si recassero in Terrasanta a scopo esplorativo e diplomatico, al fine di preparare il terreno alla vera e propria crociata. Frutto di tale spedizione conoscitiva dovette essere quella sorta di singolare relazione sullo stato dinastico e sulle usanze e i costumi politici della Terrasanta che un cronista ben addentro agli affari della curia pontificia, come Riccardo da San Germano, inseriva pari pari nella propria opera, immediatamente dopo la lettera di Innocenzo ad al-Adil.14 negotium procurandum, ut si, exigente necessitate sacrum concilium approbaverit, nos personaliter ipsum negotium assumamus efficacius promovendum.” L’epistola viene inviata, nei giorni successivi e con poche minime variazioni, a tutti i vescovi, enti ecclesiastici e sovrani della cristianità: ibid., coll. 827–31. 12  Ibid., coll. 831–32: “Nobili viro Saphildino soldano Damasci et Babyloniae, timorem divini nominis et amorem.” 13  Bodo Hechelhammer, “‘Si quis vult post me venire, abneget semet ipsum et tollat crucem suam et sequatur me.’ Überlegungen zum Kreuzzugsaufruf von 1213 als päpstliches Instrumentarium im deutschen Thronkonflikt zwischen Otto IV. und Friedrich II.,” in Innocenzo III Urbs et Orbis. Atti del Congresso Internazionale, Roma, 9–15 settembre 1998, ed. Andrea Sommerlechner, Miscellanea della Società Romana di Storia Patria XLIV, Istituto Storico Italiano per il Medio Evo, Nuovi studi storici 55, 2 vols. (Roma, 2003), 2:1077–1100. Più in generale sulla politica papale di quegli anni v. il pur esile Jane Sayers, Innocenzo III. 1198–1216, La corte dei papi 2 (trad. ital., Roma, 1997; ed. orig., London and New York, 1994), in specie pp. 199 ss. 14  Riccardo da San Germano, Chronicon, ed. Carlo Alberto Garufi, in RIS, 2a ed., VII/II, (Bologna, 1909–35), pp. 56–59, datata, con riferimento alla lettera innocenziana ad al-Adil registrata subito prima (pp. 55–56), “eodem anno,” e dunque da collocare nel corso di quello stesso 1213. Ibid., pp. III–XLI, cenni sull’Autore, che a lungo visse a Roma, probabilmente impiegato presso la curia pontificia; a pp. 46–54 vi si trova inserita la lettera di convocazione del concilio e subito dopo (pp. 53–55) quella di avviso ai vescovi calabresi.

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Ma c’è di più. Il 16 dicembre del 1249 il patriarca Bertoldo di Andechs, nel confermare un privilegio del proprio predecessore Wolfger all’ospedale di San Nicolò, nei pressi di Ruda, a favore del quale aumentava anzi la dotazione pecuniaria, ne riportava in parafrasi il dettato. Nel documento, da datare verosimilmente alla fine del 1213 o agli inizi dell’anno successivo, quando le missioni diplomatiche cui si è accennato si erano appena svolte e il clima politico tra cristiani e musulmani non si era ancora arroventato in vista dello scontro imminente, si accenna alla estrema povertà in cui versavano i pellegrini cristiani in Terrasanta, duramente maltrattati dai saraceni, che impedivano loro finanche di essere sovvenzionati con elemosine. “Demum,” continuava Bertoldo, “treguis ordinatis inter christianos et saracenos, dictus praedecessor noster obtinuit apud regem Serafandinum privilegium, ut libere et secure mitterentur eis helymosinarum consolationes.” E la fondazione dell’ospedale aveva appunto lo scopo di raccogliere finanziamenti a favore di quei pellegrini.15 La missione diplomatica in Terrasanta di Swicherio dovette dunque avere un carattere almeno parziamente autonomo, giacché ottenne un privilegio di al-Adil indirizzato direttamente a Wolfger, con il quale si fissavano i termini di una tregua e si assicurava la possibilità di sovvenzionare finanziariamente i pellegrini in Terrasanta.16 Non sappiamo quando (e, a rigore, con certezza neppure se) Swicherio abbia fatto ritorno in patria. Quel che è certo, è che il 3 dicembre del 1216 egli risultava già morto. Quel giorno, infatti, Wigando, preposito della chiesa di Sant’Odorico al Tagliamento, offriva al capitolo della collegiata cittadina dei beni “quondam Swicheri militis,” che egli aveva acquistato dal patriarca al prezzo di quarantatre marche di denari aquileiesi.17

15  Il privilegio è riportato in Giovan Francesco Bernardo Maria De Rubeis, Monumenta Ecclesiae Aquilejensis. Commentario historico-chronologico-critico (Argentinae [ma Venezia], 1740), coll. 666–71. 16  Paschini, “Il patriarcato di Wolfger di Ellenbrechtskirchen,” 10:404 ss. 17  Originale in ACC, Pergamene, p. 32, n. 34 (già n. 30).



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1213, agosto 1, Cividale Swicherio, “miles” cividalese, in procinto di recarsi in pellegrinaggio in Terrasanta, fa rogare il proprio testamento, con il quale dispone il lascito dei suoi beni immobili al capitolo della collegiata di Cividale, deliberandone però i nomi degli usufruttuari. Originale [A]: ACC, Pergamene, tomo III, p. 30, n. 29 (già n. 25). Sul verso, di mano del XIV secolo: “Testamentum domini Svicheri”; altra mano del XIV secolo: “Instrumentum [S]vi[cherii]”; mano del XVI secolo: “Qui legavit diversa bona Ecclesie”; altra mano del XVI secolo: “M.CC.XIII”; altra mano del XVI secolo: “21. Vinee in Teyzan, mansus in Galiano et alia. N° 72”; mano del XVIII secolo: “Sacculo XV. N° 72”; altra mano del XVIII secolo: “Anno 1213, I augusti”; mano del XIX secolo: “29”; mano moderna, a matita: “25, pag. 28, III tomo.” (S) In nomine Sancte et Individue Trinitatis, amen. Anno Domini MCCXIII, prima die mensis augusti, / indictione prima. In presentia rogatorum testium, scilicet Heinrici Aquilegensis archidiaconi, Stephani decani Aquilegensis, / Iohannis prepositi Sancti Felicis in Aquilegia, Wigandi prepositi Sancti Wodalrici, Conradi de Pertica, Pertoldi plebani de Cam/po Martio, Pertoldi presbiteri de Sancto Petro, Wecili de Pertica, canonici, Wariendi clerici, Walterbertoldi de Spengen/berch, Iohannis de Zucula, Wolframini filii eius, Megnardi de Portis, Wernheri de Iamnich, Conradi Zitis, / Henrici Coculini, Arponis generi Clavilutti, Engelberti de Prodov et aliorum quamplurimorum. / Swicherus quidem miles de Civittate Austria, disponens peregrinationis causa Sepulchrum Ihesu Christi vi/sitare et iam in procinctu existens arripiendi itineris, taliter coram supradictis et plurimis aliis testibus suum / condidit et statuit pro remedio sue anime testamentum. Curiam igitur suam cum domibus sitam in Civitate / iamdicta dedit maiori ecclesie Civitatensi, tali conditione quod Heinricus et Iohannes fratres, filii quondam Marquardi Marzut me / dietatem, et eorum heredes et domina Diemuot soror eorum, uxor Galutii de Premeriaco et eius heredes aliam medietatem / habeant ab ecclesia, solvendo pro ipsa singulis annis canonicis dicte ecclesie quadraginta denarios Aquilegensis monete in an/niversario suo, adiungens quod nec dicti filii Marquardi Marzut vel filia nec aliquis heredum eorum aliquando possint aut debeant / antedictam curiam extra propriam hereditatem suam alienare sed in quocumque tempore hereditas eorum sine propriis heredibus defecerit, / libere debet ad memoratam curiam ecclesia succedere Civitatensis, ita quod deinceps in usus et plenam dispositionem / transeat canonicorum. Item proprietatem totius terre vineate quam habebat inter Civitatem et Teyzanum, in qua olim pra/tum suum fuerat, dedit et propriis manibus contulit antedicte ecclesie Civitatensi, tali conditione quod tres vineas in ipsa terra, / unam quarum colit Helyseus, alteram Bonaldus de Pion, tertiam filii Bussini, habeant ab ecclesia Iohannes et Hermannus fratres de / Portis, solvendo singulis annis, tam ipsi quam heredes eorum, pro ipsis tribus vineis canonicis Civitatensibus in anniversario dicti Swi/cheri duos sextarios frumenti, unum congium vini, duas oves, decem

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gallinas cum ovis que spectant ad eas, unum / plaustrum lignorum, herbas, salem et cetera que ad servitium canonicorum sunt ea die necessaria, salvis omnino ra/tionibus et conditionibus cultorum dictarum vinearum que fuerant ante per Swicherum adepti. Quartam quoque vineam eius/dem terre debet habere Arpo de Muruz, gener Regnardi Clavilutti, et eius heredes ab ecclesia Civitatensi, similiter solvendo pro / ipsa canonicis singulis annis unum congium vini in anniversario antedicto. Qui Iohannes, Hermannus fratres de Portis et Arpo eo/rumque heredes nec possunt nec debent dictas vineas aut ipsam terram alienare sed quandocumque, ut supra in collatione curie / legitur, sine propriis heredibus decesserint, debebit ad memoratam terram ecclesia succedere Civitatensis. Item proprieta/tem castaneti sui de Prestento dedit et contulit idem Swicherus ecclesie Civitatensi iamdicte, tali siquidem tenore quod Iohannes / filius quondam Wodolrici de Portis et eius heredes habeant ab ecclesia, solvendo pro ipso singulis annis, in anniversario antefati Swi/cheri, unum sextarium frumenti canonicis, qui erogandus est pauperibus ea die, salva omnino superius annotata successionis conditione, / videlicet ut dictum castenetum non aliquo modo a dicto Iohanne vel eius heredibus alienetur, sed quandocumque sine propriis heredibus deffecerint, / libere in dispositione remaneat canonicorum. Item contulit idem Swicherus sepedicte ecclesie Civitatensi proprietatem tri/um agrorum qui iacent in loco qui dicitur Area Zerana tali similiter pacto, quod Wolricus et Heinricus fratres de Carniola, consobrini sui, ha/beant dictos agros ab ecclesia, solvendo pro ipsis canonicis singulis annis unum sextarium frumenti et duos congios vini in anniversario prefa/ti Swikeri, qui erogandi sunt ea die pauperibus pro ipsius anima. Quod si dicti fratres vel eorum heredes aliquo in tempore sine heredibus decesse/rint, libere debent dicti agri esse in dispositione ecclesie nec possunt aut debent aliquo modo vendi aut alienari extra heredita/tem dictorum Wolrici et Henrici fratrum, quemadmodum de aliis supra legitur annotatum. Item mansum Garofuli in Galla/no situm, quem Egidius, bone memorie pater antefati Swikeri, dedit pro anima sua dicte ecclesie Civitatensi, nunc sepedictus / Swikerus libere dimisit ecclesie. Item supradictus Swikerus contulit sepius memorate ecclesie Wolrissam filium Karoli et / Adaleytam sororem eius et Coculum filium dicte Adaleyte necnon Elinpurgam, proprios et proprias suas, tali similiter conditione, / quod quilibet eorum et earum necnon heredes eorum similiter et earum, in perpetuum solvat omni anno pro capite suo tres denarios Aquilegensis / monete ad fabricam dicte ecclesie pro anima sua, aditiens quod neque prepositus ipsius ecclesie neque alius aliquis habeat potestatem / investiendi eos vel eas aut aliquod alium servitium ab ipsis exigendi vel ab eorum earumve heredibus preter istud, nec ad aliud dicti / denarii nisi ad fabricam ecclesie expendantur. Item unam vineam apud Sanctum Pantaleonum et aliam apud Pinum dedit ecclesie, ita quod Adaleyta, / Munziz et Coculus filiu eius in vita sua habeant, solvendo canonicis I sextarium frumenti et II congios vini. Post mortem eorum libere debent esse ecclesie Civitatensi. / Actum est hoc et facta collatio de omnibus supradictis in sepedicta ecclesia Civitatensi, super aram que est in choro canonicorum. / (SN) Ego Wolricus, imperialis notarius, interfui et hanc cartam rogatu dicti Swikeri scripsi et auctenticavi.

A Diversion That Never Was: Thibaut IV of Champagne, Richard of Cornwall and Pope Gregory IX’s Crusading Plans for Constantinople, 1235–1239 Nikolaos G. Chrissis Royal Holloway, University of London [email protected] In the second half of the 1230s, Pope Gregory IX made extensive efforts to provide crusading relief for Latin-occupied Constantinople against the Greek resurgence. It is commonly held that in this effort the pope unsuccessfully attempted to divert the planned crusade for the Holy Land under the leadership of Thibaut IV of Champagne and Richard of Cornwall (also known as the Barons’ Crusade) towards that aim. However, it will be shown that such a complete diversion was never envisaged by the papacy; it was rather two parallel expeditions that were planned from December 1235 onwards. A close reading of the surviving evidence shows that Thibaut and Richard, as well as the majority of the crusaders for the Holy Land, were never requested to commute their vow and fight in Romania (that is, the lands formerly constituting the Byzantine Empire) rather than in Outremer. Gregory IX launched his crusade call for the Holy Land in the autumn of 1234. The aim was for an army to be ready by the expiration of the ten-year truce stipulated in the Treaty of Jaffa, agreed between Emperor Frederick II and the Ayyubid sultan of Egypt, al-Kamil, in February 1229. Gregory’s crusading calls were sent throughout Europe with the mendicants used extensively in the organization of the preaching. Indulgences were offered not only to the participants, but also to those who would be able to contribute financially to the crusade. Gregory displayed great   For the “Barons’ Crusade,” see Reinhold Röhricht, “Die Kreuzzüge des Grafen Theobald von Navarra und Richard von Cornwallis nach dem Heiligen Land,” Forschungen zur deutschen Geschichte 26 (1886), pp. 67–102; Sidney Painter, “The Crusade of Theobald of Champagne and Richard of Cornwall,” in Setton, Crusades, 2:463–85; Peter Jackson, “The Crusades of 1239–1241 and their Aftermath,” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 50 (1987), pp. 32–62. The most recent and extensive work on this expedition is Michael Lower, The Barons’ Crusade: A Call to Arms and its Consequences (Philadelphia, 2005) [hereafter cited as Lower]; this paper will amend a part of Lower’s account and some of his conclusions.   The Treaty of Jaffa, which brought Jerusalem back under Christian control, was the outcome of Frederick’s crusade of 1228–29, which took place while the emperor was excommunicated by the pope. For the treaty, see David Abulafia, Frederick II: A Medieval Emperor, 3rd ed. (London, 2002), pp. 180–85, 189–190; Thomas Curtis van Cleve, The Emperor Frederick II of Hohenstaufen: Immutator Mundi (Oxford, 1972), pp. 219–24; idem, “The Crusade of Frederick II,” in Setton, Crusades, 2:429–62, at pp. 455–57; Hans Eberhard Mayer, The Crusades, trans. John Gillingham, 2nd ed. (Oxford, 1988), p. 236; Christopher Tyerman, God’s War: A New History of the Crusades (London, 2006), pp. 751–52.



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care over the funding of the expedition, and among other measures he advocated extensive vow redemptions for those signed with the cross who were less capable of taking part in person. Recruitment was generally unsuccessful in Germany and Italy but, from late 1235 onwards, there was a widespread response in France and England. It was at this time that news arrived from the Latin Empire, where Emperor John of Brienne was calling for Western help against the allied Greco-Bulgarian forces that were attacking Constantinople. This was arguably the most serious threat to the Latin control of the city to date, though by no means the first. Following the conquest of Byzantium by the Fourth Crusade, the Latins in Romania were soon faced with Greek successor-states that emerged from the ruins of the empire, particularly at Nicaea and Epirus, whose professed aim and raison d’être was the recovery of Constantinople and the restoration of Byzantine imperial power. Surviving an early disaster at the hands of the Vlacho-Bulgarian Kalojan (Adrianople, 1205), the Latins had then been challenged by the ruler of Epirus, Theodore Komnenos Doukas, who eliminated the Latin kingdom of Thessalonica in 1224–25. In the 1230s, however, it was Nicaea that posed the most serious threat to the Latins in Constantinople. Emperor John Vatatzes (1222–54) had recently captured the nearby cities of Lampsakos and Gallipoli. Cementing an alliance with the Bulgarian tsar, Vatatzes moved against Constantinople and ravaged the area around the city (1234–35). These circumstances form the immediate background to Pope Gregory’s crusading call for Constantinople in December 1235.   Lucien Auvray, ed., Les Registres de Grégoire IX, 4 vols. (Paris, 1896–1955) [hereafter cited as Auvray], nos. 2200–2210 (November 1234); Painter, “Theobald,” p. 465; Lower, pp. 13–36, esp. pp. 18–19 and 23 (and nn. 23–24 at p. 191); Christoph T. Maier, Preaching the Crusades: Mendicant Friars and the Cross in the Thirteenth Century (Cambridge, 1994), pp. 32–62.   Lower, pp. 37–46.   The contents of John’s plea are summarized in the papal response, the bull Ut Israelem veteris (16 December 1235). See Auvray, nos. 2872–79; Lower, p. 58.   For the Fourth Crusade, see Donald E. Queller and Thomas F. Madden, The Fourth Crusade: The Conquest of Constantinople, 2nd ed. (Philadelphia, 1997); Michael Angold, The Fourth Crusade: Event and Context (Harlow, 2003); Jonathan Phillips, The Fourth Crusade and the Sack of Constantinople (London, 2005); Jonathan Harris, Byzantium and the Crusades (London, 2003), pp. 145–62. For the Latin states in Romania, see Jean Longnon, L’empire latin de Constantinople et la principauté de Morée (Paris, 1949); idem, “The Frankish states in Greece, 1204–1311,” in Setton, Crusades, 2:233–74; Robert L. Wolff, “The Latin Empire of Constantinople, 1204–1261,” in Setton, Crusades, 2:187–232; Peter Lock, The Franks in the Aegean, 1204–1500 (London, 1995). For the successor Greek states and their ideology, see Michael Angold, A Byzantine Government in Exile: Government and Society under the Laskarids of Nicaea, 1204–1261 (Oxford, 1975); Alice Gardner, The Lascarids of Nicaea: The Story of an Empire in Exile (London, 1912); Donald M. Nicol, The Despotate of Epiros (Oxford, 1957); Hélène Ahrweiler, L’ ideologie politique de l’empire byzantin (Paris, 1975), pp. 101ff., esp. pp. 106, 108–12; Dimiter Angelov, “Byzantine Ideological Reactions to the Latin Conquest of Constantinople,” in Urbs Capta: The Fourth Crusade and its Consequences, ed. Angeliki Laiou (Paris, 2005), pp. 293–310; Alkmini Stavridou-Zafraka, “The Political Ideology of the State of Epirus,” in Urbs Capta, ed. Laiou, pp. 311–23. For the events of the period, see also Kenneth M. Setton, The Papacy and the Levant, 1204–1572, 4 vols. (Philadelphia, 1978–81), 1:13–67.   Auvray, nos. 2872–79.



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The Historiography of Gregory’s Constantinopolitan Crusade Gregory’s actions are often presented by historians as an attempt to divert the Holy Land crusade he had proclaimed in 1234. The assumption is that the pope requested Thibaut IV of Champagne (and king of Navarre since 1234) to commute his crusading vow and fight in the Latin Empire rather than the Holy Land, a request that was extended to practically the entire crusading army. For example, Mayer, in his authoritative survey of the crusades, states: “At one time, though without achieving any noteworthy success, [Gregory] had attempted to send [the crusade under Thibaut] to Constantinople to help John of Brienne.” Röhricht considered that Thibaut and the other crusaders were asked to go to Constantinople, but the majority “remained faithful” to the initial aim of the expedition. The same view is expressed by such scholars as Riley-Smith,10 Richard11 and Longnon,12 among others, as well as in some studies of Thibaut’s life and work.13 Such assertions can be found as far back as Du Cange, in the seventeenth century.14 Though not as common, similar statements regarding a request to Richard of Cornwall to commute his vow to the help of Constantinople have been made, for example, by DenholmYoung, Siberry and Jotischky.15 Most of the works cited above do not look into the specific expedition in detail, as they deal with wider topics, with the exception of Röhricht’s nineteenth-century article. The next study dedicated to Thibaut’s and Richard’s crusade was by Painter (1969), in A History of the Crusades, edited by Setton.16 Painter’s account of Gregory’s efforts for Constantinople and his request towards Thibaut is more accurate. Painter carefully noted that two parallel crusades were organised and that the pope wrote “a rather vague letter” to the count, in which “he did not actually  

Mayer, Crusades, p. 256. Röhricht, “Kreuzzüge des Grafen Theobald,” p. 69. 10  Jonathan Riley-Smith, The Crusades: A History, 2nd ed. (London, 2005), p. 187. Without explicitly mentioning a vow commutation for Thibaut, he states that “by late May 1237 Gregory seems to have become reconciled to the fact that there were now going to be two crusades” (my emphasis), after the crusaders’ supposed refusal to go to Constantinople rather than Palestine. 11  Jean Richard, The Crusades, c.1071–c.1291, trans. Jean Birrell (Cambridge, 1999), p. 320: “the pope suggested those who had already taken the cross that they go to Constantinople rather than to the Holy Land (1236). … The majority of the crusaders, however, remained faithful to the initial aim of the crusade, and Gregory IX switched his attention back to that”; cf. ibid., p. 255. 12  Longnon, Empire, p. 173. 13  Henri d’Arbois de Jubainville, Histoire des ducs et des comtes de Champagne, 7 vols. (Paris, 1859–69), 4:303–9; Claude Taittinger, Thibaud le Chansonnier, comte de Champagne (Paris, 1987), pp. 249–53. 14  Charles Du Fresne Du Cange, Histoire de l’empire de Constantinople sous les empereurs françois, 3 vols. (Paris, 1657), 1:100–101, 117, 119. 15  Noël Denholm-Young, Richard of Cornwall (Oxford, 1947), pp. 39–40 (“the pope had expressly advised Richard to go to Constantinople”); Elizabeth Siberry, Criticism of Crusading, 1095–1274 (Oxford, 1985), p. 174; Andrew Jotischky, Crusading and the Crusader States (Harlow, 2004), p. 210; Lock, Franks, p. 62. 16  Painter, “Theobald.”  

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ask Theobald to go to Constantinople instead of to Palestine, but he begged him in general terms to aid Baldwin in any way he could.”17 One could expect that, after this account, the statement that Thibaut had been asked to go to Constantinople might be avoided. Strikingly, however, the most explicit references to the supposed request to the count to commute his vow are made in two works that actually examine Gregory’s crusading policy and the specific expedition in detail,18 both appearing after Painter’s study: Spence’s article on Gregory’s crusade for Constantinople19 and Lower’s recent monograph on the Barons’ Crusade. Lower actually dedicates a whole chapter to “The Appeal to Count Thibaut,” based on the assumption that the latter was indeed asked to go to Constantinople.20 His view is that Gregory attempted to divert the Holy Land crusade in its entirety. The pope’s plan, in 1235, according to Lower, was: (a) to urge the crusade leaders to commute their vows from the Levant to Constantinople, (b) to also commute the vows of the “rank and file” crusaders, and (c) to halt the promotion of the Holy Land crusade.21 The misunderstanding arises mostly from the misinterpretation of a number of papal letters, which are examined below.22 Those are the sources commonly cited as evidence for the purported diversion.23 Other than that, even Lower, whose treatment of the organization of the campaign is the most extensive, generally assumes, rather than substantiates, the request for Thibaut’s vow-commutation. It will be shown that nowhere in these letters, or indeed anywhere else in the papal registers or other contemporary sources, is there any evidence that the two leaders were actually asked to fight in the Latin Empire or that the entire Holy Land crusade 17  Painter, “Theobald,” pp. 466–67 (although Painter only refers to the letter of December 1236, making no mention to that of December 1235 – see below). 18  The other article dedicated to the Barons’ Crusade (Jackson, “Crusades”) avoids the question altogether, as it only deals with the actions of the crusaders once in the Holy Land, in the context of Frankish-Muslim relations. 19  Richard T. Spence, “Gregory IX’s Attempted Expeditions to the Latin Empire of Constantinople: The Crusade for the Union of the Latin and Greek Churches,” Journal of Medieval History 5 (1979), pp. 163–76, at pp. 166b (“Gregory’s efforts to persuade Theobald of Navarre, Richard of Cornwall, and other crusaders who vowed to fight in the Holy Land to commute their crusade vows to the Latin Empire”) and 172b (“[Gregory] tried to recruit crusading nobility already committed to the Holy Land to join Baldwin’s expedition. … The list included … the leaders of the expedition to the Holy Land, Theobald of Navarre and Richard of Cornwall”). Spence’s article is essentially a section from his unpublished PhD thesis on Gregory’s general crusading policy: see idem, “Pope Gregory IX and the Crusade” (Syracuse University, 1978), pp. 204–9 (see also pp. 11, 145–46). 20  Lower, pp. 61, 93–115, esp. pp. 100–103. 21  Ibid., p. 61; cf. p. 59: “What made [Gregory’s effort to assist the Latin Empire] unparalleled was its central component: a plan to divert the just-preached Holy Land crusade to Constantinople. This was something no pope had ever tried.” 22  Particularly two letters to Thibaut [Auvray, no. 2877 (16 December 1235); and Edmond Martène and Ursin Durand, eds., Thesaurus Novus Ancecdotorum, 5 vols. (Paris, 1717), 1:998–99 (9 December 1236)], but also two letters to Richard [Auvray, nos. 4095 (25 February 1238) and 4608 (25 November 1238)], and a papal reply to a letter from Thibaut and other leading Holy Land crusaders [Auvray, no. 4741 (9 March 1239)]. 23  For example, Spence, “Crusade for Union,” pp. 166–67; Arbois de Jubainville, Histoire des ducs, 4:304, 5:357 (no. 2430).



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was supposed to be diverted there. Some reshuffling of resources did take place but, otherwise, the Constantinopolitan expedition was organized independently, with new calls for preaching, recruitment and funds. It would be useful to provide a brief outline of Gregory’s actions regarding the crusade for the Latin Empire. The pope’s effort to provide crusading support for Constantinople between 1235 and 1239 was a drawn-out process, with at least three distinct phases.24 First, the crusade was instigated with a call, directed to Hungary and France, for the cross to be preached and for new crusaders to be recruited, along with requests for several warriors to commute their vows from the Holy Land to the Latin Empire (bull Ut Israelem veteris, December 1235).25 The campaign was to be under the leadership – at least from October 1236 – of Peter of Dreux, count of Brittany.26 Secondly, the crusade call was reorganized, from December 1236, with the dispatch of the papal bull Ad subveniendum imperio. Several innovative elements were introduced, in terms of both justificatory rhetoric (the danger of heresy spreading in the East) and organizational aspects (among others, the use of the mendicants), while the call was eventually widened to include England.27 Thirdly, the final stage can be discerned from November 1238, with Baldwin II, “the heir to the empire of Romania” (and no longer Peter of Dreux), at the head of the crusading effort and preparation, along with a renewed drive for financing the expedition.28 In the meantime, from January 1238, Gregory had called for a parallel crusade, against John Asen, to be undertaken by King Béla IV of Hungary, who stood to gain control over the lands of the “deposed” and “heretical” Bulgarian tsar who kept shifting sides.29

24  This summary is based on my unpublished PhD thesis, “Crusading in Romania: A Study of Byzantine-Western Relations and Attitudes, 1204–1282” (Royal Holloway, University of London, 2008), pp. 92–134, where Gregory’s crusading policy in Romania is examined in detail; forthcoming in a revised form as Crusading in Frankish Greece (Turnhout, 2012). 25  Auvray, nos. 2872–79. Thus the call was initiated in late 1235 and not in 1236 as stated, e.g., in Painter, “Theobald,” p. 466; Riley-Smith, History, p. 187; Tyerman, God’s War, p. 761. 26  Auvray, nos. 3363–66. Peter of Dreux was, in fact, count of Brittany only up to November 1237, when his son, John, came of age and succeeded him into the inheritance of his mother: see Sidney Painter, The Scourge of the Clergy: Peter of Dreux, Duke of Brittany (New York, 1969), pp. 28–29, 32, 99. 27  See, for example, Auvray, nos. 3395–96, 3936–37, 3944–46. Spence, “Crusade for Union,” pp. 168–69, was the first to note that Gregory introduced the argument of heresy, although he misdated this development to 1238. For the standard arguments (of the help to the Holy Land and the healing of the Schism) to which heresy was added, see below, “Conclusions.” 28  See, for example, Auvray, nos. 4605–35. 29  Auvray, nos. 4056–64 (27 January 1238) [= Augustin Theiner, ed., Vetera Monumenta Historica Hungariam Sacram Illustrantia, 2 vols. (Rome, 1859–60), 1:159–61, nos. 283–86]; Auvray, nos. 4482– 90 (August 1238) [= Theiner, Vetera Monumenta, 1:164–67, nos. 293–99]; Theiner, Vetera Monumenta, 1:170–72, no. 308 (misdated 7 June 1239, instead of 8 June 1238). See also Lower, pp. 85–90; Rebecca Rist, The Papacy and Crusading in Europe, 1198–1245 (London, 2009), pp. 132–33, 139–40, 143–45, 148.

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Gregory’s Call to Thibaut in December 1235 (Ut Israelem veteris) Thibaut of Champagne was contacted by Pope Gregory IX on the occasion of both the first and the second call for Constantinople. However, as we will see, the count received variants of both crusade bulls, which did not actually include the request for him to join the expedition. The confusion has been made more difficult to detect by the fact that only a summary of the first letter has been entered in the edition of the papal registers by the Bibliothèque des Écoles Françaises d’Athènes et de Rome,30 whereas the second is only to be found in the collection of unpublished documents by Martène and Durand.31 The bull Ut Israelem veteris, initially issued on 16 December 1235, was sent to several recipients in Hungary and France. Lower claims that Gregory asked Thibaut to commute his vow at this point, by sending him “a copy of his appeal for Constantinople.”32 Not quite. Although all letters shared the arenga and the narratio, the actual request was different in each case. While King Béla IV of Hungary, as well as some crusaders from Hungary and France were called to fight for the Latin Empire, Thibaut was not. The difference between the letters has been partially obscured in the edition by Auvray, as the latter only includes a summary of the letter to Béla and then notes “In eundem modum” for the missives to the other recipients, similarly summarizing any additional information. Without providing a clear indication as to what is left out from the initial bull, it gives the impression that everything else is identical, including the call to go to the help of the Latin Empire. This is not so, as an examination of the Vatican Register manuscript shows. The letters, except for the first one, have been inserted in a shortened version in the registers, but the scribe’s notes make the differences between them clear (see Table 1).33 The letter to King Béla has been inserted in its entirety. This was indeed a call to rush to the assistance of Latin Constantinople.34 After the greeting, the pope referred to the tribulations of the Holy Land (section A in Table 1); then he related the attack of Vatatzes and Asen against Constantinople and Emperor John’s valiant defence (section B – the longest part of the bull). After that, the pope proclaimed his decision to assist the Latin Empire, stressing that its preservation would also greatly benefit the affair of the Holy Land (section C). Moving on to his main request, the pope first noted that Hungary could assist the Latin Empire more easily on account of its proximity; then he asked the king to provide “counsel and aid” to the empire (section D – the corresponding text is copied extensively below, as comparison with the contents of the subsequent letters is crucial). The pope closed 30 

Auvray, no. 2877. Martène and Durand, Thesaurus, 1:998–99. 32  Lower, p. 100. 33  Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, MS Registra Vaticana, vol. 18, fols. 90r–90v. 34  Auvray, no. 2872; full text in Theiner, Vetera Monumenta, 1:140–41, no. 249. An identical letter was sent to Béla’s brother, Coloman, duke of Slavonia: Auvray, no. 2873. 31 



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Table 1 Letter to Thibaut of Champagne (Reg. Vat., vol. 18, fol. 90v; Auvray, no. 2877)

Letter to King Béla (Reg. Vat., vol. 18, fol. 90r–90v, ep. 313; Auvray, no. 2872; Theiner, Vetera Monumenta, 1:140–41, no. 24)

Letter to Hungarian prelates (Reg. Vat., vol. 18, fol. 90v; Auvray, nos. 2874–76)

[A] Ut Israelem veteris … nequeat liberari.

In eundem modum archiepiscopo In eundem modum Strigoniensi [et al.] illustri Regi Navarre Comiti Campanie

[B] Nam sicut pro certo … cum infinitis armatorum millibus accinxerunt; [C] propter quod a nobis extitit … eiusdem terre dissidium sequeretur,a

usqueb sequeretur

[D] celsitudinem regiam monendam duximus attente et hortandam, quatenus cum eo levius et citius prefato Imperio per homines Ungarie subveniri valeat, quo ei viciniores existunt, ob reverentiam Iesu Christi, apostolice sedis et nostrum, sicut anime tue salutem desideras, ad subveniendum prefato Imperio regium studeas auxilium et consilium impertiri; ita quod exinde superne glorie merearis particeps effici, et per tui auxilii interventum dictum valeat Imperium liberari, spe tibi proposita, quod dum in eodem Imperio terre subvenis memorate, duplicatum remunerationis divine premium reportabis.

mandamus quatenus cum eo levius etc ut super usque viciniores existunt, vota crucesignatorum tue provincie in subsidium ipsius Imperii auctoritate nostra commuttans, et alios ut in eius profecturi succursum signum crucis assumant inducens, ipsos efficaciter moneas, ut sine more dispendio ad succurrendum ipsi Imperio iter arripiant, et ad id festinanter et viriliter se accingant, spe ipsis proposita, quod dum in eodem Imperio terre prefate subveniunt, duplicatum remunerationis etc usque in finem

usque quatenus nobilem virem Herardum de Chatenai et alios consanguineos Imperatoris eiusdem et nobilis viri Balduini,

ut signum crucis in ipsius Imperii succursum assumant efficaciter moneas et inducas eosdem ut sine more dispendio ad succursum ipsius Imperii iter arripiant et ad id festinanter et viriliter se accingant, spe ipsis proposita etc ut super usque in finem

[E] Nos enim de omnipotentis dei misericordia et ea, quam nobis in beatis apostolis Petro et Paulo concessit, auctoritate confisi,c illam eis qui in eiusdem Imperii succursum accesserint, concedimus veniam peccatorum, quam habituri forent, si predicte terre sancte personaliter subvenirent. a 

end.

Underlining my own, to facilitate comparison, by indicating points where variant passages begin/

b  Scribal instructions will be italicized here, so that they can be more clearly distinguished from the text proper. c  ‘fisi’ in Theiner.

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his letter by stating that those who would come to the assistance of the empire were granted the same indulgence as for going to the help of the Holy Land (section E). The letters sent to the Hungarian prelates followed the letter to King Béla only up to a point. The long narrative and argumentation was the same but the request was not. The call to the Hungarian king to personally assist the Latin Empire was replaced here with instructions to the prelates to commute the vows of existing Holy Land crusaders in their provinces, and to urge others to take the cross for the help of Constantinople.35 The next letter, to Count Thibaut, was again different. The altered part, as the scribal instructions make clear, was the actual request, which varied considerably. The count was not asked to go to Constantinople in person, but rather to use his influence and authority in Champagne and to urge Erard of Chacenay36 and other relatives of John of Brienne and Baldwin to take the cross for the Latin Empire.37 Though probably superfluous, we may point out that Thibaut is the subject of the verbs moneas and inducas, whereas it is only Erard and the other relatives who were expected to go to Constantinople, as they are the subject of the verbs arripiant and accingant. Furthermore, the orders to the Franciscan William of Cordelle, the pope’s crusading agent in France,38 were similar but not identical to the instructions to the Hungarian prelates.39 Whereas in Hungary the call for commutation of crusade vows was generalized (and apparently compulsory), in France, the heartland of crusading recruitment, the vows of specifically 400 crusaders were to be commuted, and only of those who were willing. In both realms new crusaders were to be signed with the cross with the explicit aim of Constantinople, including Erard of Chacenay and 35  Auvray, nos. 2874–76; the recipients were the archbishops of Esztergom and Kalocsa and the bishop of Gyõr. 36  For Erard, see Theodore Evergates, Feudal Society in Medieval France: Documents from the County of Champagne (Philadelphia, 1993), no. 30 (pp. 45–47), and also nos. 55A (p. 75) and 76 (p. 94): “Erard II, lord of Chacenay (1191–1236) and a baron of some importance in southern Champagne,” participated in the Fourth Crusade and, on his return, married Emeline, the widow of Odo of Champlitte. He also went to the Holy Land, in 1218, joining the Fifth Crusade. Erard II’s grandfather, Jacques (d. 1158), had apparently married into the Brienne family: see chart in Theodore Evergates, Feudal Society in the Bailliage of Troyes under the Counts of Champagne, 1152–1284 (Baltimore, 1975), p. 167. Erard was also related to Peter of Dreux (the projected leader of the Constantinopolitan expedition), as Emeline was Peter’s first cousin: see genealogical charts in Evergates, Documents, p. xxx; Jean Richard, Saint Louis: Crusader King of France, ed. Simon Lloyd, trans. Jean Birrell (Cambridge, 1992), p. 614; Painter, Scourge, after p. 155. 37  Auvray, no. 2877; MS Reg. Vat., vol. 18, fol. 90, epist. 313. 38  See Maier, Preaching, pp. 34, 126–27, and Lower, pp. 93, 103, 172–73, for his role in the crusade efforts of the period. William was responsible, in France, for organizing both expeditions to Constantinople and to the Holy Land; he eventually took part in Thibaut’s crusade. 39  MS Reg. Vat., vol. 18, fol. 90v (Auvray, no. 2879): “In eundem modum fratri Willelmo, penitentiario nostro etc ut super, usque quatenus vota quadringentorum militum crucesignatorum Francie, quorum ad id consensus accesserit, in subsidium prefati Imperii auctoritate nostra commutans, tam eos, quam alios, qui de novo tuis inducti monitis in succursum ipsius assumpserint signum Crucis, preceptis moneas salutaribus, et inducas, ut sine more dispendio ad succurrendum ipsi Imperio iter arripiant, etc ut super usque in finem.” Cf. Joannes Hyacinthus Sbaralea, ed., Bullarium Franciscanum, 7 vols. (Rome, 1759–68), 1:179–80, no. 185.



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the other relatives of John and Baldwin. The basic plan remained the same a month later, when another version of the bull Ut Israelem veteris was dispatched to all the prelates of France and Hungary. The letters made reference to the commutation of the Hungarian crusaders and of 400 French ones, alongside those who would take the cross “de novo” for the Latin Empire in both kingdoms.40 There is, therefore, no attempt for a complete diversion of the Holy Land crusade that Lower and others have read into these letters.41 The first major French noble to be recruited for Romania was Peter of Dreux, count of Brittany, by October 1236. It appears that the count had taken the cross for the Latin Empire, and this was not the commutation of an earlier vow for the Holy Land.42 He was apparently expected to lead the expedition.43 Gregory’s call to Thibaut in December 1236 (Ad subveniendum imperio) The two years following Peter of Dreux’s enlistment for the crusade in Romania saw the climax of Gregory’s efforts to assist the Latin Empire as more requests for crusaders were sent to Hungary, France and, eventually, England,44 while the pope also attempted to secure substantial funding for the expedition. The renewed call for a crusade for the Latin Empire was first addressed to prelates in north-western France (Cambrai, Tournai, Arras) and Hungary in December 1236.45 The bull Ad subveniendum imperio introduced several new elements but it also shared many characteristics with Ut Israelem veteris. Most importantly for our examination, the papal letters referred again to the commutation of crusader vows in Hungary and France and to the signing of new crusaders. In the case of France, there was 40 

Auvray, nos. 2909–11 (January 1236); MS Reg. Vat., vol. 18, fols. 96v–97r, epist. 341 See Lower, p. 61. 42  Auvray, nos. 3363–64 (23 October 1236); MS Reg. Vat., vol. 18, fol. 203, epist. 254–255: “Cum zelo fidei et fervore devotionis accensus signo vivifice crucis assumpto in Imperii Constantinopolitani succursum proposueris proficisci.” Cf. Painter, Scourge, pp. 90–91 and 105–6, n. 3; Lower, p. 42. The Rothelin Continuation of William of Tyre [RHC Oc 2:489–639, at p. 526] lists Peter among the nobles that took the cross (for the Holy Land) in France, but it might well be that the chronicler was influenced by Peter’s eventual decision to join the crusade to Outremer. The papal registers seem to indicate that Peter had not taken the cross prior to 1236. Peter’s crusader status was explicitly mentioned in the grant of apostolic protection for his family in October 1236 [Auvray, nos. 3365–66], whereas there had been no such reference when Gregory had first placed Peter’s children under his protection on 13 October 1235 [Auvray, nos. 2813–14]. 43  See the clearly prominent role of Peter in Philip Mouskes, Chronique Rimée de Philippe Mouskes, ed. Frederick de Reiffenberg, 2 vols. (Brussels, 1836), 2:630; Matthew Paris, Chronica Majora, ed. Henry Richards Luard, 7 vols. (London, 1872–83), 3:387; cf. Painter, Scourge, p. 105, and idem, “Theobald,” pp. 467–68. Cf. also Gregory’s letter to the Latin clergy of Romania (January 1238): Auvray, no. 4035: “cum nobilis vir … comes Britannie de mandato nostro ad succurrendum Imperio Constantinopolitano se cum grandi exfortio militum et alliorum bellatorum accinxerit ….” 44  The first surviving call to England is from October 1237: Auvray, nos. 3944, 3946. For England, see also below, the section on Richard of Cornwall. 45  Auvray, nos. 3395–96 (8 December 1236). 41 

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Table 2 Gregory’s crusade bull to the bishops of Cambrai, Tournai and Arras (Ad subveniendum imperio, 8 December 1236; Auvray, no. 3395)

Gregory’s letter to Thibaut of Champagne (9 December 1236; Martène and Durand, Thesaurus, 1:998–99)

Ad subveniendum imperio Constantinopolitano multiplex causa catholicos viros inducere, multiplex ad condolendum ejus doloribus ratio eos poterit ammonere; in cujus exterminio corpus orientalis Ecclesie in gravium frusta scismatum scinditur, ac subsidium Terre Sancte plurimum impeditur; in cujus exterminio ager dominicus diversarum heresum spinis occupatur et tribulis, et omnium Latinorum timetur periculum in partibus habitantium Orientis. Illud enim ad hoc ipsos debet efficaciter exhortari, quod, in subventionem prefati imperii, oppressi pro Ecclesia et fide catholica, [venientes], celestem, procul dubio, poterunt gloriam promereri.

Ad subveniendum imperio Constantinopolitano multiplex causa excellentiam tuam inducere, multiplex ejus doloribus ratio te poterit ammonere;a in cujus exterminio corpus orientalis Ecclesie in gravium frusta schismatum scinditur, ac subsidium Terre Sancte plurimum impeditur; in cujus exterminio ager dominicus diversarum heresum spinis occupatur et tribulis, et omnium Latinorum timetur periculum in partibus habitantium Orientis. Illud autem ad hoc te debet efficaciter exhortari, quod predecessores tui eternam in subventione ecclesie Terre Sancte et fidei suscipere gloriam, eternam in subventione pro Ecclesia et fide catholica oppressorum studuerunt obtinere coronam. Hoc etiam non modicum nostre prestat intentioni suffragium, quod nobilem virum Balduinum natum clare memorie P. Imperatoris Constantinopolitani, ad quem prefatum spectat imperium, proxime tibi intelleximus esse vinculo consanguinitatis astrictum.

Hinc est quod, cum Vatacius, Dei et Ecclesie inimicus, graviter imperium ipsum oppresserit, et, plures ipsius civitates et loca capiens, ea funditus devastarit, nos, attendentes quod in ipsius conservatione imperii specialiter Terre Sancte subsidium noscitur promoveri, et, si, quod absit, dominio Grecorum, qui magis Latinos odiunt quam Pagani, subicitur, de facili ejusdem Terre discidium sequeretur, mandamus quatenus,b vota quandringentorum militum regni Francie, et, preter eos, nobilium virorum consanguineorum … illustris imperatoris Constantinopolitani et nobilis viri Balduini, ad quem imperium ipsum spectat, et familiarium suorum crucesignatorum, quorum ad id consensus accesserit, in subsidium prefati imperii, non obstante juramento quo se ad transfretandum in Terram Sanctam obligasse dicuntur, auctoritate apostolica commutantes, tam eos quam alios qui de novo, vestris inducti monitis, in succursum ipsius assumpserint signum crucis, preceptis moneatis salutaribus et inducere procuretis, ut sine more dispendio ad succurrendum ipsi imperio iter arripiant, et ad id festinanter et viriliter se accingant, spe ipsis proposita, quod dum in eodem Imperio terre prefate subveniunt, duplicatum remunerationis

Hinc est quod, cum Vachatius, Dei et Ecclesie inimicus, graviter imperium ipsum oppresserit, et, plures ipsius civitates et loca capiens, ea funditus devastarit,

serenitatem regiam rogandam duximus attentius et monendam, in remissionem tibi peccaminum injungentes, quatenus eidem Balduino, qui ob hoc ad presentiam tuam accedit, tale in tanta necessitate prestare subsidium, tantum in hoc articulo imperio prefato studeas destinare succursum, quod id tibi apud Deum cedat ad premium, et posteris tuis in regie laudis exuberet incrementum; et nos ex hoc tuis secundum Deum constituas utilitatibus debitores. Ceterum cum predictus imperator, et quondam Yolendis uxor ejus comitissa Namurcensis, multa bona in regno Francie ac imperio obtinuerint, et ad servitium ecclesie in prefatum Constantinopolitanum imperium accedentes, ibi fuerint viam universe carnis ingressi, dicto B. heredi ipsorum, cui eo esset crudelius jura hereditaria subtrahi, quo devotius in flore



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divine premium reportabunt. Nos enim de omnipotentis Dei misericordia et ea, quam nobis in beatis apostolis Petro et Paulo concessit, auctoritate confisi, illam eisdem crucesignatis concedimus indulgentiam peccatorum, et ipsos ea volumus immunitate gaudere, quas habituri forent, si predicte Terre Sancte personaliter subvenirent, mandantes quatenus eos super bonis suis, donec de ipsorum reditu vel obitu certissime cognoscatur, non permittatis ab aliquibus indebite molestari, molestatores hujusmodi etc. Si qui vero ex premissis vel ex crucesignatis terre ipsius Balduini, et Tornacensis, Atrebatensis et Cameracensis civitatum et diocesum, in terris illis quarum domini crucesignati in Terre Sancte subsidium non existunt, propter infirmitatem, debilitatem seu paupertatem a vobis ad pugnandum reputabuntur inhabiles, illos ut vota sua secundum qualitates et facultates proprias, prefatam indulgentiam nichilominus habituri, redimant, inducentes, ea que vobis propter hoc duxerint exhibenda, in ipsius succursum imperii, secundum consilium prefati Balduini, per manus bonorum virorum et Deum timentium transmittantis. Quod si non omnes –. a  b 

letter.

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juventutis sue Deo cepit et Ecclesia famulari; si qua de predictis bonis noscaris detinere, restituas, ita quod Serenitatem tuam dignis possimus in Domino laudibus commendare.

Italicized text indicates where the letter to Thibaut differs from the crusade bull. Underlined passages indicate the instructions/requests by the pope towards the recipients of each

explicit mention of the 400 crusaders, along with the relatives of John of Brienne and of Baldwin. This indicates that neither group had set out in the meantime; it also means that the scope of the “diversion” of French Holy Land crusaders had not widened since the previous year. The commutation of vows in France was not generalized – and it remained voluntary.46 As with the earlier call of Ut Israelem veteris, the pope also contacted Thibaut regarding the affair of Constantinople in December 1236.47 This has been seen as additional evidence of the alleged request to the count to commute his vow to the Latin Empire and to divert the Holy Land crusade towards Constantinople.48 However, as had also happened in 1235, the letter to Thibaut was a (much altered, in this case) variant of the crusade bull (see Table 2). The opening section of Ad 46  Auvray, no. 3395: “mandamus quatenus, vota quadringentorum militum regni Francie, et, preter eos, nobilium virorum consanguineorum … illustris Imperatoris Constantinopolitani et nobilis viri Balduini …, et familiarium suorum crucesignatorum, quorum ad id consensus accesserit, in subsidium prefati Imperii, non obstante juramento quo se ad transfretandum in Terram Sanctam obligasse dicuntur, auctoritate apostolica commutantes, tam eos quam alios qui de novo, vestris inducti monitis, in succursum ipsius assumpserint signum crucis …” 47  Martène and Durand, Thesaurus, 1:998–99. 48  See most importantly and extensively, Lower, pp. 101–2.

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subveniendum imperio was retained, while the pope also added some points, such as the exploits of Thibaut’s predecessors in the Holy Land, their service to the Church, and Thibaut’s consanguinity with Baldwin. But when the letter came to the specific requests from the count, Gregory simply asked Thibaut in general terms to provide help to his relative, Baldwin, who had come seeking assistance.49 The count was urged to send some help to the Latin Empire – whether military or financial is unclear. There is no request for him to commute his vow or personally go to Constantinople.50 The letter ended with an admonition to Thibaut to assist in the restitution of Baldwin’s rights over lands in France (the legacy of his mother, Yolanda).51 In other words, Thibaut was again merely asked to exercise his power and influence in the West, in order to help the cause of the Latin emperor. The pope did try to enlist additional French crusaders for the Latin Empire, in 1237. He instructed the bishop of Sées and the crusaders of his diocese, who were preparing to participate in the passagium generale to the Holy Land, to go to Constantinople instead.52 The possibility of Henry of Bar-le-Duc commuting his vow to the Latin Empire was also discussed.53 Furthermore, John of Mâcon (Peter of Dreux’s brother) and John of Soissons were enlisted for the Constantinopolitan expedition.54 But those were specific cases, not the rule; and the counts of Mâcon and Soissons were to take the cross for the Latin Empire in the first place, while Henry’s potential commutation would be voluntary. Evidence from the papal registers makes it clear that there were preparations for the crusade to the Holy Land, as well as for Constantinople, throughout this period and that Thibaut was involved in the former expedition. There can be no doubt that the crusade for Outremer was still being planned until late 1235;55 and that from May to June 1237 such an expedition was organized in parallel to the one for the

49  Baldwin was in the West at the time, trying to secure help for his empire: see Longnon, Empire, pp. 174–75, 178–82; Wolff, “Latin Empire,” pp. 221–22. 50  The letter (Martène and Durand, Thesaurus, 1:998–99) reads: “serenitatem regiam rogandam duximus attentius et monendam, in remissionem tibi peccaminum injungentes, quatenus eidem Balduino, qui ob hoc ad presentiam tuam accedit, tale in tanta necessitate prestare subsidium, tantum in hoc articulo Imperio prefato studeas destinare succursum.” A comparison with the text of the crusade bull itself (Auvray, no. 3395) makes the differences obvious. Cf. Painter, “Theobald,” p. 466. 51  Cf. Lower, p. 150; Longnon, Empire, p. 179. 52  Auvray, no. 3638 (10 May 1237). 53  Auvray, no. 3633 (9 May 1237); Maier, Preaching, p. 40. 54  For John of Mâcon: Auvray, no. 3907 (20 October 1237). The Rothelin Continuation [RHC Oc 2:489–639, at p. 526] mentions John among those who took the cross for the Holy Land, but, as in the case of Peter of Dreux who is also included in the list (see above, n. 42), this might be a confusion owing to John’s eventual participation in the Outremer expedition. For John of Soissons, see Auvray, no. 4315 (4 May 1238); John was to fulfil – under pain of excommunication and interdict – the vow he had taken the previous year to join Peter of Dreux in helping the Latin Empire; cf. Mouskes, Chronique Rimée, 2:630. 55  See, for example: Auvray, no. 2786 (28 September 1235): instructions to crusaders in France not to depart for the Holy Land before the set date; Auvray, no. 2856 (5 December 1235): Thibaut still appears as a crusader set to depart for Outremer.



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Latin Empire, as numerous documents attest.56 So the supposed wholesale diversion should be placed between December 1235 and May 1237. However, in February 1237, Henry of Trubleville and many other crusaders from Gascony appear set to depart in the passagium generale for the Holy Land and to be given funds for it.57 Furthermore, on 30 January 1237, Gregory had written to King Ferdinand III of Castile and León, to urge him not to go to war against Thibaut, “the crusader king of Navarre,” as this would be to the detriment of the Holy Land, and would cause great disturbances in the kingdoms of Spain and France. Thibaut was evidently expected to depart on his campaign in the near future, as the king of Castile was exhorted to make peace with him or at least grant a truce until the count’s return. The papal letter made no reference whatsoever to the Latin Empire.58 This only leaves the period from December 1235 to December 1236 for the alleged attempt to divert the crusade under Thibaut towards Constantinople. But, as we saw, papal communications at the beginning and end of this period made no request for Thibaut to commute his vow, neither did the calls for the Latin Empire amount to a complete diversion of the Holy Land expedition. Furthermore, crusaders and funds were still channelled to Outremer during 1236;59 and whatever references there are to Thibaut of Champagne they mention the Holy Land as his destination, not Constantinople.60 In June 1236, Gregory intervened in the conflict between Thibaut and King Louis IX of France, invoking Thibaut’s status as a crusader to the Holy Land and the damage to the latter, should the royal aggression against the count be continued. The pope presented the plight of the Holy Land as well as the crusaders’ eagerness to set out for it, and urged the king not to do, or allow anything to happen, that would delay their departure. Gregory clearly had an expedition to Outremer in mind, which was supposed to set out in the near future. As in the similar admonition to the king of Castile, no connection was made to the affair of the Latin Empire.61 It is also important to point out that the crusade bull of December 1236 (Ad subveniendum imperio) stipulated that money from the redemption of crusaders’ vows, coming from Baldwin’s own lands, and from the cities and dioceses of Cambrai, Tournai and Arras, would be used for the Latin Empire, with the exception of lands whose lords were crusaders for the Holy Land – a further confirmation that the two expeditions were organized in parallel and different resources were

56  See, for example, Auvray, nos. 3642–44, 3699, 3704, 3706, 3723, 3730, 3726–27; and, later, nos. 3916, 3923–24, 3929–30. 57  Auvray, nos. 3528–29 (25 February 1237). Henry of Trubleville (count of Grandpré) was the seneschal of Gascony, the English king’s main continental possession; cf. Lower, pp. 133–34. For funds sent to the Holy Land at this time, see also: Auvray, nos. 3460–61 (31 January 1237). 58  Auvray, nos. 3475–78. 59  Auvray, nos. 3138 (7 March 1236), 3074 (4 April 1236), 3080 (8 April 1236), 3126 (28 April 1236) and 3201 (23 June 1236). 60  Auvray, nos. 2963 (18 February 1236) and 3236–37 (14 July 1236). 61  Auvray, nos. 3195–96 (18 June 1236).

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allocated to each one.62 In Gregory’s instructions regarding Henry of Bar-le-Duc, in May 1237, both expeditions were explicitly mentioned and it was still open for the count (who had initially taken the cross for the Holy Land) to join either of them: and we order that, if the count, altering his resolution, decides to commute his vow to the help of the empire of Romania, you should concede the money you have received from the redemption and commutation of vows … to that count, when he will set out on the expedition to Constantinople; otherwise, [hand them over] to him in the passagium generale [to the Holy Land], when he has set out on the journey overseas.63

The papal registers, then, do not substantiate the assertion that one expedition was halted in order for the other to be promoted, or that the entire Holy Land crusade was to be diverted to Constantinople; neither is there any such evidence from other sources.64 Other Evidence on Thibaut’s Vow-commutation Some additional materials, included in the extensive account by Lower, should be briefly examined, because they might, at first glance, appear to corroborate the claim that the pope requested Thibaut to commute his vow. However, once the two aforementioned letters to Thibaut are seen for what they really are, the remaining 62  Auvray, no. 3395: “Si vero ex premissis vel ex crucesignatis terre ipsius Balduini, et Tornacensis, Atrebatensis et Cameracensis civitatum et diocesum, in terris illis quarum domini crucesignati in Terre Sancte subsidium non existunt, propter infirmitatem, debilitatem seu paupertatem a vobis ad pugnandum reputabuntur inhabiles, illos ut vota sua … redimant, inducentes … in ipsius succursum Imperii, secundum consilium prefati Balduini, per manus bonorum virorum et Deum timentium transmittatis” (my emphasis). Cf. similar cases where redemption funds from several areas were assigned to crusaders with the exception of the lands belonging to other crusading nobles: for example, Auvray, nos. 3907, 3916, 3923. See also Auvray, no. 4522 (3 September 1238), where crusading funds from the province of Tours are to be put in the service of the Holy Land, with the exception of funds already granted to Peter of Brittany for the help of the Latin Empire: “exceptis hiis que concessa sunt nobili viro … comiti Britannie pro subsidio Imperii Romanie.” 63  Auvray, no. 3633 (9 May 1237): “[comes Barri Ducis] assumpto de manibus nostris vivifice crucis signo, pro subsidio Terre Sancte … mandamus quatenus, si, mutato consilio, idem comes in subsidium Imperii Romanie votum suum duxerit commutandum, receptam a vobis pecuniam pro redemptione ac commutatione votorum …, eidem comiti, cum iter Constantinopolitanum arripuerit, alioquin eam sibi in generali passagio, arrepto transmarino itinere, concedatis.” The destination of Henry was still unclear in February 1238: see Auvray, nos. 4105–06 (“in subsidium Terre Sancte vel Imperii Constantinopolitani”); cf. Painter, “Theobald,” p. 467. 64  For example, there is no mention of the alleged diversion attempt in the main narrative source for the Barons’ Crusade, the Rothelin Continuation of William of Tyre, or in the Eracles: RHC Oc 2:489– 639 and 2:1–481 (at pp. 408–22) respectively [= trans. Janet Shirley, Crusader Syria in the Thirteenth Century (Aldershot, 1999), pp. 13–120 and 123–29]. Matthew Paris [Chronica Majora, 3:386 and 3:469–70] mentions Gregory’s call for a crusade against the Greeks in 1237 (although he has garbled the context) and Alberic of Trois-Fontaines [MGH SS 23:946] refers to Baldwin’s crusade in 1239, but neither chronicler seems to regard it a diversion of the Holy Land expedition or to make a connection between the two.



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“evidence” evaporates. Lower’s subsequent reconstruction of Gregory’s supposed efforts on this issue and of the count’s reactions is rather too creative. For example, Lower reads into a letter of February 1236 an attempt by Gregory to intimidate the count into participating in the Constantinopolitan expedition, with the threat of excommunication (which would also remove Thibaut’s crusader privileges of protection), on account of the count’s encroachment upon the jurisdiction of church courts in his domains.65 However, Thibaut’s vow and projected departure for the Holy Land are explicitly mentioned, whereas there is no reference at all to the expedition for the Latin Empire.66 The letter was dealing with an issue of some importance for the papacy, about which the king and all the nobility of France received the pope’s castigation.67 Gregory’s supposed motivation with regards to Constantinople is little more than speculation. In fact, in none of the cases that Lower interprets as papal pressure on the count to commute his vow is there any obvious or apparent connection to the Latin Empire.68 In May 1237, the pope instructed his agents to redeem the vows of crusaders in the province of Reims who were unable to fight, and send the relevant funds to the curia so that they could be used in any way that seemed advantageous for the Holy Land. In Lower’s view, “Gregory was clearly trying to exert financial pressure on Thibaut to reconsider his crusading plans,” as there was a provision that excluded the count’s lands.69 However, there is no hint in the papal letter that this was in any way connected to the Latin Empire or with pressure put on the count.70 Quite the opposite in fact, because the exception probably implied that the revenues from these lands were set aside for Thibaut himself, rather than sent to the curia.71 Thibaut’s enquiry to the Holy Land authorities is hardly evidence that he had been asked to commute his vow to Constantinople.72 On the contrary, it indicates that Thibaut was trying to prepare for the expedition to Outremer in the best possible 65 

Lower, p. 100; Martène and Durand, Thesaurus, 1:993–96 [=Auvray, no. 2963]. Martène and Durand, Thesaurus, 1:995–96: “… quatenus cum signaculum crucis profecturus in subsidium Terrae Sanctae susceperis, et personam tuam pro Dei et Ecclesiae servitio mutis laboribus et periculis deputaveris, ac ob id te opporteat summa providere cautela, ne quid a tua serenitate contigat fieri, propter quod vas tanti possit meriti vacuari …” 67  Auvray, nos. 2961–62, 2964; Thibaut was only mentioned separately from the other barons (who received a common letter) because of his regal status as king of Navarre. 68  See Lower, p. 101. 69  Auvray, no. 3632: “in Remensi provincia, exceptis hiis qui existunt de dominio vel feudo carissimi in Christo filii nostri … illustris regis Navarre, comitis Campanie”; Lower, p. 103. 70  Besides, as Lower himself shows (pp. 112, 114), Thibaut did not appear to be monetarily constrained; shortly before his departure he appears to be buying land rather than selling. Whether that was because the alleged papal pressure was ineffective, as Lower would have it, or because there had been no such pressure in the first place is a matter of interpretation. 71  Revenues from certain areas were sometimes split among different recipients; cf. the cases where funds from vow redemptions were granted to certain crusaders, with the exception of lands belonging to other crusading nobles: Auvray, nos. 3907, 3916, 3923 and 3395. 72  As argued by Lower, pp. 102–3. The reply to Thibaut’s enquiry has survived and has been published in Martène and Durand, Thesaurus, 1:1012–13. According to Painter, “Theobald,” p. 471, the letter should probably be dated 6 October 1237. 66 

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way. He simply requested information on the timing of the departure, on the route to follow, and on provisioning.73 The reply makes it clear that the question was not whether the crusaders under the count should set out for Holy Land, but when. The issue at stake was whether they should wait for the expiration of the Treaty of Jaffa – not whether they should go to Constantinople or to Outremer.74 There is absolutely no reference to the Latin Empire or the supposed diversion. No more evidence comes from Thibaut’s “crusade” songs. In some of his works, the count of Champagne, who was an accomplished song-writer, praises the importance of crusading to Outremer and, apparently, criticizes the papacy. But there is no clear connection with the papal efforts for Constantinople, despite arguments to the contrary.75 The count had other complaints against the pope. In early 1239 the peace between Gregory and Frederick II collapsed, and the latter was excommunicated (20 March 1239); by October there were calls for a crusade against Frederick.76 The crusading host under Thibaut gathered at Lyons in July 1239 and departed for the Holy Land in August; while in Lyons they were caught between pope and emperor, both of whom reportedly asked them to postpone their departure.77 Thibaut’s lyrics make it clear that his criticism of the pope had to do with the papal-imperial strife, where the count evidently sided with the emperor, and not with the crusade for the Latin Empire: “In a time full of wickedness, … / When I see excommunicated / Those who offer more sense.”78 This song has been dated between March and August 1239, precisely on account of this connection

73  Martène and Durand, Thesaurus, 1:1012: “Placuit sublimitati vestrae super quator consilium a nostra quaerere parvitate: videlicet quando ad succursum Terrae-Sanctae iter arripere deberetis, et ad quem portum, vel ad quos possetis convenientibus congregari, et de cibariis taliter provideretur, et eorumdem inveniri posset copia cum venire exercitus Jesu-Christi.” 74  Ibid.: “Ad primum dicimus, quod occasione treugarum non oportet vestrum passagium prolongare, cum Saraceni treugam non teneant christianis: immo plures interfecti et capti peregrini sunt in hac treuga, quam fuerint ex quo perdita extitit Terra-Sancta: et cum domino papae et vobis placuerit, poteritis arripere iter vestrum, cum cujus benedictione et gratia vos accingetis ad servitium Jesu-Christi.” 75  Thibaut’s songs have been edited and translated by Kathleen J. Brahney, The Lyrics of Thibaut de Champagne (New York, 1989); see also the older edition by Axel Wallensköld, Les Chansons de Thibaut de Champagne, roi de Navarre. Edition Critique (Paris, 1925). The songs of interest here are nos. 53, 55 and 56 (in both editions). Lower, pp. 112–14, considers that those songs show the count’s resentment to the pope’s alleged commutation request; see also Siberry, Criticism, pp. 174–75. 76  Abulafia, Frederick, pp. 313–20; van Cleve, Frederick, pp. 428–41; Spence, “Gregory” (see above, n. 19), pp. 73ff, 115ff, esp. pp. 122–23 and 129–35 for crusade preaching against Frederick; Painter, “Theobald,” p. 468; Joseph R. Strayer, “The Political Crusades of the Thirteenth Century,” in Setton, Crusades, 2:343–75, at pp. 350–53. 77  Rothelin Continuation, RHC Oc 2:528 [= trans. Shirley, Crusader Syria, p. 39]; Matthew Paris, Chronica Majora, 3:614–15; Painter, “Theobald,” pp. 468, 472; Lower, pp. 160–62. 78  Brahney, Lyrics, p. 235, no. 55, stanza I, lines 1, 7–8; cf. ibid., pp. xxviii, 299 (although the fanciful – and certainly erroneous – idea that the disagreement between the emperor and the pope was about the destination of the crusade – the Holy Land or the Latin Empire – which dates back to Wallensköld’s edition, Chansons, p. 193, is not supported by the songs or any other evidence); cf. Siberry, Criticism, p. 179; Arbois de Jubainville, Histoire des ducs, 4:307–8; Taittinger, Thibaud, pp. 247–48.



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with Frederick’s excommunication.79 Lower has, furthermore, claimed that Thibaut was emphasizing the superior merit of Outremer over Constantinople, when he stated: Lords be informed: anyone who will not go To the land where God died and lived, And will not bear the cross of Outremer, Will hardly go to paradise.80

Even opting for Lower’s literal rendering of “croiz d’Outremer,” as opposed to Brahney’s general “the crusade cross,” however, the comparison with other crusading fronts (and specifically Constantinople) is at best implicit and, in our view, rather tenuous. It can easily be seen as a stereotypical statement about the salvific value of crusading to the Sepulchre – particularly as the song’s main theme is the disparagement of the “blind and snivelling cowards” who avoid participating in the crusade. The comparison is between a noble who goes on the crusade and one who stays at home; not between one who goes to the Holy Land and one who goes to Constantinople or elsewhere.81 Even if the statement were accepted as veiled criticism of papal efforts regarding the crusade for the Latin Empire, there is nothing in these songs to suggest that Thibaut was asked to go there in person. As a leader of the Holy Land crusade, it would be reasonable for Thibaut to be opposed to any diversion of resources away from it.82

79  Wallensköld, Chansons, pp. 192–93. The imagery of the conflict between two dragons in the song “Deus est ensi conme li pellicanz” apparently also refers to the pope and the emperor, and points to the same preoccupation for Thibaut: Brahney, Lyrics, no. 56, stanza IV, lines 31–40; Wallensköld, Chansons, pp. 197, 198–99. 80  Brahney, Lyrics, no. 53, stanza I, lines 1–4 (with an emendation in the translation by Lower, p. 114 and note 102 on p. 216). 81  See William Chester Jordan, “The Representation of the Crusades in the Songs Attributed to Thibaud, Count Palatine of Champagne,” Journal of Medieval History 25 (1999), pp. 27–34, at p. 31; Brahney, Lyrics, p. xxvi. The parallel theme of paradise to be won for those who will go on the crusade and hell awaiting the others is also found in Peire Vidal and Albrecht von Johansdorf: see Michael Routledge, “Songs,” in The Oxford Illustrated History of the Crusades, ed. Jonathan RileySmith (Oxford, 1997), pp. 91–111, at p. 101. Cathrynke Th. J. Dijkstra, La Chanson de croisade: étude thématique d’un genre hybride (Amsterdam, 1995), p. 119, similarly considers that Thibaut’s song makes use of very traditional themes (see ibid., pp. 162–63, 48–49 and 143–45, on the main themes and motifs of “crusade-call” songs). 82  See below for the complaints of Thibaut and other leading crusaders to the pope, in early 1239, for the resources dedicated to the Constantinopolitan expedition: Auvray, no. 4741.

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Gregory’s Appeal to Richard of Cornwall The case of Richard of Cornwall is straightforward. There were calls for crusaders and funds from England, but Richard himself was never asked to fight in Romania.83 What the pope actually did was to urge Richard, in November 1238, to redeem his crusading vow and send to Constantinople the money he would have spent fighting in the Holy Land.84 Two different reasons motivated the pope to take this action. The first one was the fact that Gregory did not wish Richard to leave England at this time. Richard’s brother, King Henry III, was facing a dangerous uprising by his barons, as he was perceived to act in violation of their feudal rights and in disregard of their counsel. Henry, understandably, wanted his brother and his most loyal supporters – some of whom, such as Simon of Montfort, had also taken the cross – close at hand.85 Gregory had reasons, too, to keep Henry happy, particularly at a time when papal relations with Emperor Frederick II were rapidly deteriorating. The English king was a papal vassal and ally – but also a dangerous potential enemy, on account of his connections with Frederick.86 Richard’s presence in England would buttress Henry’s internal position (especially since Richard was heir presumptive until Edward’s birth in 1239), but it would also preclude the possibility of any cooperation with imperial forces in the Continent.87 The pope had already admonished Richard of Cornwall and other English crusaders, in February 1238, to postpone their expedition to the Holy Land on account of the tumultuous situation in England; at this point, there was no reference to the affair of the Latin Empire and certainly no request for the nobles to commute their vows to Constantinople.88 Gregory repeated this request to Richard in April.89 The second reason for Gregory’s appeal in November, and the reason why this time the call for Richard to redeem his vow in favour of the Latin Empire was added, had to do with the development of the pope’s plans for Constantinople. The years 1237–38 saw the climax of Gregory’s efforts to provide the projected expedition 83  Such a statement is usually – correctly – avoided: see, e.g., Lower, p. 129: “[Gregory] never asked [the English Holy Land crusaders] to travel to the Latin Empire themselves”; cf. Riley-Smith, History, p. 189. However, there are exceptions: see n. 15 above. 84  Auvray, no. 4608 (25 November 1238; the request is for a commutation first, then an immediate redemption, but that is a technicality): “Quocirca nobilitatem tuam rogandam duximus attentius et monendam quatenus, predictum votum in succursum Imperii prefati de licentia nostra commutans, et expensas quas esses in eundo ad Terram Sanctam, morando ibidem et redeundo facturus, in subsidium Imperii prefati transmittens.” 85  Lower, p. 134; Denholm-Young, Richard, pp. 32ff. 86  Henry and Richard were Frederick’s brothers-in-law, on account of the emperor’s marriage with Isabella; furthermore, Frederick had been discussing the plan of a common attack with the English prince against the French in 1236: see Denholm-Young, Richard, pp. 30–31. 87  Lower, pp. 134–35; Denholm-Young, Richard, p. 38. Frederick had contacted Richard in March 1238, asking him to delay his crusade until the end of 1239 and urging him to travel through Sicily: Matthew Paris, Chronica Majora, 3:471–72. 88  Auvray, nos. 4094–96 (the papal instructions were also addressed to Simon of Montfort, earl of Leicester, and William Longsword, earl of Salisbury); cf. Painter, “Theobald,” p. 482; Lower, p. 134. 89  Auvray, no. 4268.



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with manpower90 and, particularly, funding. Gregory made concentrated efforts to finance the Constantinopolitan crusade from a variety of sources: legacies and beneficia of canons, confiscated proceeds from “Jewish usury,” money from vowredemptions, crusading donations and bequests, as well as taxation of ecclesiastical property in France and England.91 Most importantly, in November 1238, a new funding plan for the Latin Empire was launched. Gregory gave instructions for a thirtieth of ecclesiastical revenues in France and England to be collected for three years. In this effort, he contacted the sovereigns and the archbishops of both realms asking them to urge their clergy – “individually and in private” – to make the contribution. The request to Richard to redeem his vow belongs in this series of letters.92 The pope was therefore combining his renewed attempt to procure funds for the Constantinopolitan campaign with his wish for Richard to postpone his departure.93 The Oath of Northampton, when Richard and his fellow English crusaders, according to Matthew Paris’s account, took a vow to sail to the Holy Land and not to allow their expedition to be diverted “by the objections of the Roman Church to shedding Christian blood in Greece or in Italy,”94 does not presuppose a request for Richard himself to fight in Romania or for the entire English crusading army to be sent to Constantinople. As we saw, there had been no such calls. Several other factors can account for the oath: Richard’s resentment towards the (ultimately unsuccessful) papal opposition to his wish to set out for Outremer; Gregory’s excommunication of and crusade against Frederick, which was unpopular in England95 – hence the reference to Italy; and, finally, Richard’s concern, as one of 90  Calls for preaching, recruitment of crusaders and commutation of vows across France and England: Auvray, nos. 3936–37, 3941, 3944–46 (October–November 1237); Auvray, nos. 4206, 4209– 17 (22 March 1238; full text in Spence, “Gregory,” appendix, no. 13, pp. 308–9). The pope additionally attempted to ensure the participation of Humbert of Beaujeu and John of Soissons: Auvray, no. 4219 (29 March 1238, Humbert of Beaujeu; cf. Auvray, nos. 4631–33, 4219, 4662–67); Auvray, no. 4315 (4 May 1238, John of Soissons). 91  Auvray, nos. 3737, 3899, 3903, 3907, 3936, 3944, 3945, 4025–26, 4028–29, 4035–36, 4105–6, 4204–5, 4265–66, 4316; William E. Lunt, Financial Relations of the Papacy with England to 1327, vol. 1 (Cambridge, Mass., 1939), p. 434. A considerable part of these resources was earmarked for Peter of Dreux and his brother John of Mâcon, as well as for Henry of Bar-le-Duc. Funds for the Latin Empire were assigned to Peter of Dreux as late as September 1238: see Auvray, nos. 4522, 4527, 4546–47. 92  Auvray, nos. 4605–18 (the letter to Richard is no. 4608); Lunt, Financial Relations, 1:194–96. Instructions about monetary contributions from the clergy as well as from the laity were also sent to the Dominicans of England and France: Auvray, nos. 4619–21. 93  Cf. Lower, pp. 134–38, esp. p. 137: “Hitherto pursued separately, Gregory’s twin goals of keeping the Holy Land crusade in England and raising aid for the Latin Empire came together in his appeal of 25 November [1238] to Richard of Cornwall.” 94  Matthew Paris, Chronica Majora, 3:620: “convenerunt magnates Anglie crucesignati apud Norhampton, de itinere suo in Terram Sanctam arripiendo contrectaturi. Et ne per cavillationes Romane ecclesie honestum votum eorum impediretur, nec ad effusionem sanguinis Christiani vel in Greciam vel in Ytaliam, prout instillatum in auribus eorum fuerat, distorqueretur”; Denholm-Young, Richard, pp. 38–44, esp. p. 40; Siberry, Criticism, pp. 174–75; Christopher Tyerman, England and the Crusades, 1095–1588 (Chicago, 1988), p. 91. 95  See Matthew Paris, Chronica Majora, 3:608–9; van Cleve, Frederick, p. 434.

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the leaders of the expedition to Palestine, about resources drained away from his crusade and channelled towards the Constantinopolitan one. Conclusions Seen in this context, the communication between leading crusaders (Thibaut of Champagne, the duke of Burgundy and the counts of Bar, Montfort and Vendôme) and the pope, in March 1239, presents no problem of interpretation. The former were not objecting to an alleged change of direction of the crusade under their command.96 They were rather complaining about the diversion of manpower and funds away from their own expedition towards that for Constantinople, as the pope’s defensive reply makes evident.97 This was not the first time that the papacy was criticized in this respect. The leaders’ reaction in 1239 was not much different than that of Cardinal Pelagius during the Fifth Crusade, who had bitterly complained to Honorius III about the pope’s parallel efforts for the Latin Empire, as they risked depriving the Holy Land of crucial manpower.98 To summarize: Gregory proclaimed a crusade for the Holy Land in 1234, anticipating the expiration (in 1239) of the truce stipulated in the Treaty of Jaffa. Then, by late 1235, the pope also decided to call for a crusade for the defence of Constantinople, which was under pressure by Vatatzes of Nicaea. The two expeditions were organized in parallel, throughout the period 1235–39. Gregory did not attempt to send the Holy Land crusade to Constantinople instead of Outremer. What took place was an effort for partial reallocation of resources from the one front to the other. Hungarian crusaders were urged en bloc to fight in Romania. Several French nobles and other crusaders were asked to commute their crusade vows; a few of them eventually did.99 However, there would also be new recruits, taking the cross for the Latin Empire, in Hungary, France and England. Crusade funds were diverted to the Latin Empire – but they were only a portion of the money collected for the Holy Land, while additional sums were raised specifically for Constantinople. Thibaut of Champagne was never requested to serve in Romania; he was only urged to use his influence to help the cause of John of Brienne and of Baldwin II with regards to recruitment in the West. Richard of Cornwall was similarly never expected to defend the walls of Constantinople himself; though, in 96  Despite Lower’s contention (p. 178) that they “all [had] declined the pope’s directive to campaign in Latin Greece.” 97  Auvray, no. 4741. 98  See Honorius’s reply in RHGF 19:690–91. 99  Humbert of Beaujeu, Thomas of Marles, William of Cayeux and Josseran of Brancion apparently joined Baldwin’s crusade (though it is not clear if they had all commuted prior vows). Henry of Bar-leDuc went to the Holy Land for which he had originally taken the cross. Peter of Dreux, though signed for Constantinople, eventually opted for Outremer, an example apparently followed by others, such as the counts of Soissons and Mâcon. See Mouskes, Chronique Rimée, 2:661–64, 666–69; Painter, Scourge, pp. 105–6; Lower, pp. 123–24, 155.



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his case, the request to remain in England was followed by a call to redeem his vow and send the money to the Latin Empire. In the event, both nobles led their forces to Palestine in 1239–41. Nevertheless, a crusade for the Latin Empire, with Emperor Baldwin at its head, did set out from the West, in 1239, and arrived in Romania, where it achieved only marginal success.100 Restoring more accurately the factual background of the 1239–41 expeditions to Constantinople and the Holy Land also has some wider implications. This paper does not aim to disprove Lower’s stimulating argument on the limits of papal authority and of a common Christian identity, or on the importance of variant local responses. However, it does weaken one aspect of its supporting evidence, since an entire section has been built on Thibaut’s supposed refusal to follow papal instructions, which were in fact never issued. Consequently, it also challenges Lower’s reasoning regarding the pope’s need “to persuade [the Holy Land crusaders] that Constantinople was a more urgent priority than Jerusalem.”101 With the exception of Hungary, the call for commutation was initially on a voluntary and rather limited basis. The majority of the crusaders already signed with the cross were still supposed to go to Outremer. Therefore, it is questionable whether this particular “diversion” attempt can serve as an effective case study regarding the limits of papal control over crusading expeditions. Additionally, the erroneous claim regarding the diversion of the Holy Land crusade towards Constantinople is due as much to a faulty reading of evidence as it is to the misunderstanding of the development of crusading in Romania, which has not received adequate attention.102 Gregory’s call, in 1235–39, was not the first time that the crusade was put to the service of the Latin states in Romania. Innocent III, responding to Emperor Baldwin I’s request, had already called for crusaders to buttress the Latin Empire in 1205.103 Honorius III had similarly ordered the cross to 100  Mouskes, Chronique Rimée, 2:661–64, 666–69; Annales Erphordenses, MGH SS 16:33; George Akropolites, Georgii Acropolitae Opera, ed. August Heisenberg and Peter Wirth, 2 vols. (Stuttgart, 1978), par. 37; Alberic of Trois-Fontaines, MGH SS 23:946–47; Matthew Paris, Chronica Majora, 3:469–70, 4:54–55. Cf. Longnon, Empire, pp. 181–82; Lower, pp. 150–57, esp. pp. 155–56. The most important exploit of Baldwin’s crusade was the capture of the town of Tzurulum. 101  Lower, p. 66. 102  A few studies touch upon the subject, for example: Malcolm Barber, “Western Attitudes to Frankish Greece in the Thirteenth Century,” in Latins and Greeks in the Eastern Mediterranean after 1204, ed. Benjamin Arbel, Bernard Hamilton and David Jacoby (London, 1989), pp. 111–28; Deno John Geanakoplos, “Byzantium and the Crusades, 1261–1354,” in Setton, Crusades, 3:27–68 (for the period after 1261); Norman Housley, The Later Crusades: From Lyons to Alcazar, 1274–1580 (Oxford, 1992), pp. 49–79 (for the period after 1274); Harris, Byzantium and the Crusades, pp. 177–81; Ralph-Johannes Lilie, Byzanz und die Kreuzzüge (Stuttgart, 2004), pp. 200–203; Roscher, Innocenz, pp. 119–31; sporadic references in Walter Norden, Das Papsttum und Byzanz (Berlin, 1903); Setton, Papacy; and in the works on the Latin states, cited in n. 6 above; and, of course, Spence, “Crusade for Union,” and Lower. Most of these studies, however, focus on different subjects and do not provide an overview or a detailed analysis of crusading in Romania and its development. My PhD thesis, “Crusading in Romania” (see above, n. 24), attempts to address this omission. 103  See e.g. the Registers of Innocent III, nos. VIII.70 (69) (May 1205), VIII.131 (130) (August 1205) and IX.45 (April 1206), in Othmar Hageneder et al., eds., Die Register Innocenz III., 8 vols. so far

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be preached for the rescue of the kingdom of Thessalonica in 1223–25.104 Gregory IX himself had offered crusading indulgences to those who would join the emperorelect, John of Brienne, in 1229,105 and had soon afterwards urged Hungarian crusaders to commute their vows from the Holy Land to Constantinople.106 The fact that Gregory’s rhetoric for the Constantinopolitan expedition remained “cautiously attuned to the Holy Land’s claims on crusading support”107 has little to do with the specific circumstances in the 1230s and the effort to convince the members of that particular crusade to change course. When Gregory referred to service offered to the Holy Land through the Latin Empire, and conversely that help to Jerusalem would be impeded if Constantinople was to fall, he was repeating the same argument that had been consistently invoked since the early days of the Latin conquest of Byzantium. The leaders of the Fourth Crusade had employed it as a justification for the capture of Constantinople, alongside the argument that such a conquest would bring the Greek Church “back to obedience” to Rome, and thus heal the Schism.108 The arguments had then been adopted by Innocent III, when he authorized the use of the crusade for the defence of the Latin Empire.109 They had consequently been used by Honorius III as well as by Gregory IX (even before his efforts in 1235–39) and practically by all thirteenth-century popes who would (Vienna, 1964– ), at 8:125–29, 8:238–39 and 9:83–84 respectively. See Helmut Roscher, Papst Innocenz III. und die Kreuzzüge (Göttingen, 1969), pp. 119–31. 104  Petrus Pressutti, ed., Regesta Honorii Papae III, 2 vols. (Rome 1888–95); e.g., nos. 4353, 4360 [= C. A. Horoy, ed., Honorii III, Romani Pontificis Opera Omnia, 5 vols. (Paris, 1878–80), 4:349, no. 129, and 4:351, no. 132]; cf. Lock, Franks, pp. 61–62; Nicol, Despotate, pp. 61–64. 105  Letter of 13 December 1229, published by Joseph van de Gheyn, “Lettre de Gregoire IX concernant l’empire latin de Constantinople,” Revue de l’Orient Latin 9 (1902), pp. 230–34. 106  Auvray, nos. 657 (9 May 1231), 774 (12 February 1232), 1957 (11 June 1234) [=Theiner, Vetera Monumenta, 1:97, 102–3 and 125–26, nos. 171, 177, 212]. 107  Lower, p. 60. 108  See e.g., Registers of Innocent III, nos. VII.152, VII.202, VI.210 (211), ed. Hageneder, 7:253– 62, 7:351–54, 6:358–61 respectively; Count Hugh of St. Pol’s letter to the West: MGH SS 17:814; Geoffroi de Villehardouin, La Conquête de Constantinople, ed. and trans. Edmond Faral, 2 vols., 2nd ed. (Paris, 1961), pars. 93, 99, 143, 224–25; Robert of Clari, La Conquête de Constantinople, ed. Philippe Lauer (Paris, 1924), par. 72, p. 71; Gunther of Pairis, Gunther von Pairis, Hystoria Constantinopolitana, ed. Peter Orth (Hildesheim, 1994), chs. 8 and 11, pp. 128–29 and 137–38. These arguments, in turn, originated in Western recriminations against Byzantium in the twelfth century, on account of the empire’s perceived disinterest or hostility towards the crusades: see e.g., Harris, Byzantium and the Crusades, pp. 90–91, 100, 127ff., 142, 146–51, 154–55, 161; William M. Daly, “Christian Fraternity, the Crusaders and the Security of Constantinople, 1097–1204: The Precarious Survival of an Ideal,” Mediaeval Studies 22 (1960), pp. 43–91, at pp. 53, 57–58, 62, 63, 65, 79ff.; Raymond H. Schmandt, “Public Opinion, the Schism, and the Fourth Crusade,” Diakonia 3 (1968), pp. 284–99, esp. pp. 286– 95; Bunna Ebels-Hoving, “Byzantium in Latin Eyes before 1204: Some Remarks on the Thesis of the Growing Animosity,” in The Latin Empire: Some Contributions, ed. Krijna Nelly Ciggaar and Victoria van Aalst (Hernen, 1990), pp. 21–31; Norden, Papsttum, pp. 59ff.; Martin George Arbagi, “Byzantium in Latin Eyes, 800–1204” (Unpublished PhD thesis, Rutgers University, 1969), pp. 193–204, 230–41 (mis-numbered as 224–35[bis]). 109  E.g., Registers of Innocent III, letters VII.153, VII.154, VII.204, VIII.64 (63), VIII.70 (69), VIII.131 (130), ed. Hageneder, 7:262–63, 7:264–70, 7:359–60, 8:108–9, 8:125–29, 8:238–39.



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initiate crusades in Romania, such as Innocent IV and Urban IV.110 Thus, it is not really “puzzling that [Gregory’s letter to Thibaut] offers no practical evidence in support of this hardly self-evident assertion” that the fall of the Latin Empire would be harmful to the Holy Land.111 Invoking this argument had become common practice and was taken for granted in the papal curia – though not always by the recipients of such calls. An important issue, therefore, is a wider unfamiliarity with the background of the crusade in Romania112 and the failure to appreciate its importance for developments in the Levant in the thirteenth century, as well as for crusading in general. Had Romania been acknowledged as a distinct crusading front with its own history and characteristics, the misinterpretation of Gregory’s efforts for Constantinople as a diversion of the Holy Land crusade might have been more easily avoided. Such an understanding would have also warned against assuming connections to the Latin Empire when none are present in the sources under examination; any such references would be explicit, as the documents relevant to crusading in Romania make evident.113 By comparison to other fronts of crusading activity, research on Romania is in an embryonic state; as such it offers both a challenge and an opportunity.

110  For Honorius III, see Pressutti, Regesta Honorii, nos. 1490–91 and 4353 [full text in Norden, Papsttum, pp. 749–50 (nos. 4–5); and Horoy, Honorii Opera, 4:349, no. 129]. For Gregory IX (prior to 1235): Auvray, nos. 657, 774, 1957 [=Theiner, Vetera Monumenta, 1:97, no. 171, 1:102–3, no. 177, and 1:125–26, no. 212]. For Innocent IV: Élie Berger, ed., Les Registres d’Innocent IV, 4 vols. (Paris, 1884– 1911), no. 22; Joannes Dominicus Mansi, ed., Sacrorum Conciliorum Nova et Amplissima Collectio, 54 vols. (Florence and Venice, 1759–1798), 25:625; Ferdinand M. Delorme, “Bulle d’Innocent IV en faveur de l’empire latin de Constantinople,” Archivum Franciscanum Historicum 8 (1915), pp. 307–10. For Urban IV: Jean Guiraud, ed., Les Registres d’Urbain IV, 4 vols. (Paris, 1892–1958), nos. 131–33. 111  Lower, p. 102. 112  See, e.g., Lower, p. 59, where it is claimed that Innocent III never preached a crusade on behalf of the Latin Empire, or p. 66, where it is stated that “the Latin Empire had been in place since 1204 and by Gregory’s day a tradition of crusading in its aid, as we have seen, had yet to develop.” 113  Compare, for example, the grant of funds to Amalric of Montfort, to Hugh of Burgundy and to John of Mâcon, in October 1237; there are explicit and clear instructions for the Holy Land in the first two cases, and for the Latin Empire in the last one: Auvray, nos. 3923, 3916, 3907.

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Mighty Towers and Feeble Walls: Ayyubid and Mamluk Fortifications in the Late Twelfth and Early Thirteenth Centuries in the Light of the Decline of Crusader Siege Warfare Kate Raphael The Hebrew University of Jerusalem [email protected] The advance of military architecture has been perceived by many scholars as a close and ongoing dialogue between siege warfare and methods of defense used by the fortress garrisons. Ayyubid military architecture was no exception to this rule. It developed and responded according to advances in the field of siege warfare made by their immediate enemies. But if we maintain that military architecture is a dialogue between two or more opponents then the decline of military capabilities of one side will also bring about changes in the architectural development amongst all sides involved in this exchange. While the Franks constructed their most formidable examples of military architecture during the late twelfth and early thirteenth centuries, their achievements in the field of siege warfare slowly declined. Their successes during the First Crusade belonged to the past. It is important to note that the Franks were well acquainted with all the latest technological achievements such as the counterweight trebuchets as well as the regular hand-drawn siege machines, Greek fire, scaling ladders, wooden siege towers, sapping and all the various methods used during this period. What they lacked was the ability to organize the logistics and often the manpower that was needed to carry out a successful full-scale siege. The five Frankish sieges of 1163, 1164, 1167, 1168 and 1169, that took place during the attempted invasion

 

Hugh Kennedy, Crusader Castles (Cambridge, 1994), p. 98; Ronnie Ellenblum, Crusader Castles and Modern Histories (Cambridge, 2007), p. 189; Paul E. Chevedden, “Fortifications and the Development of Defensive Planning during the Crusader Period,” in The Circle of War in the Middle Ages, ed. Donald J. Kagay and L. J. Andrew Villalon (Woodbridge, 1999), p. 34. The Hungarian scholar Erik Fugedi reached a very different conclusion while researching fortresses of the first half of the thirteenth century in Hungary. According to Fugedi, “Innovations in castle building during the thirteenth century were not triggered by advances in military technology, but rather by social development, enhanced by the Mongol invasion of Hungary in 1241.” See Erik Fugedi, Castles and Society in Medieval Hungary (1000–1437) (Budapest, 1986), p. 42.   Christopher Marshall, Warfare in the Latin East, 1192–1291 (Cambridge, 1992), pp. 210–25. On Frankish siege warfare in the early decades of the crusader kingdom, see Joshua Prawer, The Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem: European Colonialism in the Middle Ages (London, 1972), pp. 344–451; Meron Benvenisti, The Crusaders in the Holy Land (Jerusalem, 1970), pp. 284–86; Ellenblum, Modern Histories, pp. 203–6.

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Table 1 Width of curtain walls in crusader fortresses constructed between ca. 1136 and ca. 1252 Date of construction Bethgibelin Kerak Belvoir Bethgibelin Vadum Iacob Atlit Caesarea



1136 1142? 1168 1168a 1178–79 1218 1251–52

Width of curtain walls (meters) 2.1 2.5 4.0 4.2 4.3 8.0 5.0

a  Ygal Shapira, “The Tower in the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem” (Unpublished MA thesis, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 2000), pp. 13–14 [Hebrew].

Table 2 Width of curtain walls in Ayyubid fortresses constructed between ca. 1136 and ca. 1252 Date of construction QalÝat Ñadr ÝAjlűn first phase ÝAjlűn second phase Mount Tabor Al-Ñubayba



1173 1184 1214 1217 1128–30

Width of curtain walls (meters) 1.5–2.8 2.2 3.0 2.9 2.3–2.7

of Egypt, reveal the beginning of this decline. It seems as though, even when their armies outnumbered the besieged, the Franks still could not breach the walls and ended up leaving the scene defeated, as in the case of the attack on Mount Tabor in 1217. This decline in siege warfare amongst the Frankish armies appears to have had a strong impact on the development of the late-twelfth- and early-thirteenthcentury Muslim fortresses. Thus one may ask whether the development of military architecture always depends on the arrival of new, stronger and more advanced methods of siege warfare.   Jonathan Riley-Smith, The Crusades: A Short History (London, 1990), p. 84; Yaacov Lev, Saladin in Egypt (Leiden, 1999), p. 163; Andrew Ehrenkreutz, Saladin (New York, 1972), pp. 36–37, 42–43, 48. Steven Runciman, A History of the Crusades, 2 (Cambridge, 1952), pp. 229, 304–6, 309–12, 313–16.   This will be discussed in greater detail in the following pages.



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Fig. 1 The increase in width of crusader curtain walls as compared to the Ayyubid curtain walls (bold)

The Ayyubids and Mamluks, who gradually became masters of siege warfare, built fortresses that bordered crusader territory with an awareness of the Frankish military decline. The two fortresses al-Ñubayba and Mount Tabor will be examined here as case studies; they show different methods of construction and planning compared to those known in crusader fortresses. Both the Ayyubids and the Mamluks chose to ignore what the Franks considered state-of-the-art military architecture. They developed a different approach that was due partly to this gradual shift in siege warfare capabilities amongst the armies in the region, and partly to the significant role of archers in the Muslim armies. This essay will try and draw an outline of the main architectural developments that occurred in the two Muslim fortresses mentioned above. One of the most striking changes that appeared during the mid-twelfth century in crusader fortresses was the great care and attention with which curtain walls were built; in addition, one may note that their width constantly increased (Table 1). In contrast, the Ayyubid and later Mamluk curtain walls maintained a simple and almost basic line of construction (Table 2 and Fig. 1).

  Kennedy, Castles, pp. 105–6, 108; Paul E. Chevedden, “Artillery in Late Antiquity,” in The Medieval City under Siege, ed. Ivy A. Corfis and Michael Wolfe (Woodbridge, 1995), pp. 131–73; idem, “The Trebuchet: Recent Reconstructions and Computer Simulations Reveal the Operating Principles of the Most Powerful Weapon of its Time,” Scientific American (July 1995), pp. 66–71; idem, “Fortifications,” pp. 36–38; Ellenblum, Modern Histories, pp. 217–27.

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The Ayyubid Fortress of Mount Tabor The arrival of the concentric fortresses marked the climax in the development of crusader military architecture. The fortress at Belvoir represents the first of its type. This architectural plan was intended to provide the ultimate defense. The Ayyubids did not adopt or imitate the Franks’ latest ideas and achievements. The Ayyubid fortress of Mount Tabor (Fig. 2), which was being built in the midst – both geographically and chronologically – of those architectural changes, bears little resemblance to those that were being constructed in the crusader kingdom. It was probably built as a response to the raids the Franks were waging in the Ayyubid territories. Humphreys suggests that the fortress was constructed to strengthen al-ÝĀdil’s rule over the Galilee and to prevent the Franks from using Nazareth as a jumping point for raiding Muslim territories further north. This is, however, not a very convincing argument, since it was al-ÝĀdil himself who had handed Nazareth to the Franks only a few years earlier. Ibn WāÒil and Ibn al-Athīr both remark that al-ÝĀdil decided to destroy Kawkab (Belvoir) and to build a fortress at Mount Tabor.10 Thus al-ÝĀdil was determined to have a stronghold of his own to supervise the region. But all we have are vague hints; in actual fact, none of the sources gives an explicit answer as to why the fortress was built. Its construction was carried out by one of the most prominent Ayyubid sultans, alMalik al-ÝĀdil (r. 589/1193–615/1218) and his son al-MuÝaÛÛam ÝIsa (d. 624/1227). This fortress rates as one of the largest ever built by the Ayyubids. It measures 580 m (on the north side) by 250 m (on the east side). The curtain wall rose directly from the solid bedrock. No foundation trench was laid and no keep was built. It was constructed of crude cut building blocks that have an irregular shape and use the local porous limestone. The wall measures 2.9 m in width. There are surprisingly very few towers, twelve in total, which is a fairly small number in comparison to the incredible circumference of the curtain wall. The northern side was almost

  A lengthy discussion dedicated to the growth and improvement of crusader curtain walls can be found in Ellenblum, Modern Histories, pp. 231–57. On the history and architecture of Belvoir, see Prawer, Latin Kingdom, pp. 300–307; Benvenisti, Crusaders in the Holy Land, pp. 294–303; Kennedy, Castles, p. 59; Denys Pringle, Secular Buildings in the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem (Cambridge, 1997), pp. 32–33; Adrian J. Boas, Archaeology of the Military Orders (London, 2006), pp. 122–25.   The most comprehensive study of the fortress at Mount Tabor was written by Antonio Battista and Bellarmino Bagatti, La fortezza saracena del Monte Tabor (AH 609–15; AD 1212–18) (Jerusalem, 1976). See also Benvenisti, Crusaders in the Holy Land, pp. 358–62; Denys Pringle, The Churches of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem, 2 (Cambridge, 1998), pp. 63–67.   Benvenisti, Crusaders in the Holy Land, p. 359.   R. Stephen Humphreys, From Saladin to the Mongols: The Ayyubids of Damascus 1193–1260 (Albany, 1977), pp. 136–37. 10  Ibn WāÒil, Jamāl al-Dīn MuÎammad b. Sālim, Mufarrij al-kurūb fī akhbār banī ayyūb, ed. Gamal Eldin el-Shayyāl, 3 (Cairo, 1957), p. 216; Ibn al-Athīr, ÝIzz al-Dīn ÝAlī, Al-Kāmil fīÞl-taÞrīkh, ed. Carolus Johannes Tornberg, 12 (Beirut, 1966), p. 300.

(After Battista and Bagatti, La fortezza saracena del Monte Tabor, p. 33).

Fig. 2 The Ayyubid fortress at Mount Tabor.

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“deprived” of towers because the terrain provided sufficient defense; the towers are on the whole quite small and sparsely scattered along the curtain wall.11 The news of the building of the Ayyubid fortress on Mount Tabor soon reached the papal court. In his letters summoning the leaders to the Fourth Lateran Council (11 November 1215), Pope Innocent III mentioned the Ayyubid fortress on Mount Tabor and referred to it as a threat to the crusader kingdom.12 In September 1217, the arrival in the Levant of the Fifth Crusade changed the regional balance of power and for the duration of the expedition it tilted in favor of the Franks. In early December the crusaders moved towards Mount Tabor, whether because the pope himself declared the fortress as a threat, or simply because it was a convenient close range target for the large armies that were gathering at Acre. The Muslim sources provide two different accounts of the siege methods employed by the Christians. According to SibÔ ibn al-Jawzī, the crusader army had arrived at the siege with a large scaling ladder.13 The Franks may have underestimated both the fortress and its garrison or else the siege preparations were not properly supervised. Ibn al-Athīr says the Franks had an assortment of siege machines.14 If this was the case the outcome does not add much to the honor or prestige of the Frankish siege forces. The Christian army outnumbered the Muslim garrison.15 After seventeen days of siege, however, with no threat of an Ayyubid reinforcement army, the Franks decided to retreat and left under the cover of night. Although the walls were far from forbidding and the towers set at wide intervals, and the quality of masonry and building techniques used was rather poor, the crusader army was not able to breach the walls and caused no damage to the fortress. It is therefore surprising that the sultan decided to evacuate the garrison and demolish his newly built castle. According to Van Cleve, “al-MuÝaÛÛam decided to destroy the fortifications of Mount Tabor, yielding evidently to the widespread belief among the Muslims that the mere existence of the fort had subjected them to attack by the Christians.”16 Humphreys’s argument is more convincing: namely that, since most of the Muslim forces had been sent to Egypt to follow the crusader army camped on the bank of the Nile near Damietta, the fortress of Mount Tabor 11  The distances between the towers run from 75–128 m. The size of the towers at Mount Tabor ranges as following: 5 × 3.75 m, 8.25 × 7.5 m, 11.25 × 11.25 m, and 12.25 × 15 m. 12  Riley-Smith, Crusades, pp. 144–47; James M. Powell, Anatomy of a Crusade, 1213–1221 (Philadelphia, 1986), p. 19; Jane E. Sayers, Innocent III: Leader of Europe, 1198–1216 (London, 1994), p. 95; T. C. Van Cleve, “The Fifth Crusade,” in Setton, Crusades, 2:379, n. 2, and 2:391; Decrees of the Ecumenical Councils, ed. Norman J. Tanner, 2 vols. (London, 1990), 1:267–71. 13  SibÔ ibn al-Jawzī, Shams al-Dīn Yūsuf, MirÞāt al-zamān fī taÞrīkh al-aÝyān, 8 (Hyderabad, 1952), part 2, pp. 584–85. 14  Ibn al-Athīr, Kāmil, p. 322. 15  The sources do not provide details concerning the size of the Frankish force or the Ayyubid garrison. The size of the fortress suggests that it required 2,000 men – similar to the size of the Frankish garrison at Safad. Although the main body of the fifth crusaders had not yet arrived, the Frankish force that besieged Mount Tabor included the army of King John of Jerusalem, the forces of the three military orders and the European forces that had already began to arrive in Acre. 16  Van Cleve, “The Fifth Crusade,” p. 392.



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became “exceptionally vulnerable to attack and if the Franks should capture it, the rest of the Galilee would be threatened.”17 Ibn WāÒil (d. 697/1298), a contemporary source, wrote quite bluntly that “its building was pointless.”18 Whatever al-MuÝaÛÛam’s reasons were, it was not due to the faults in the construction of the fortress or for lack of faith in its ability to withstand the enemy. Al-Ñubayba The First and Second Ayyubid Building Phases The first phase of Ayyubid construction at al-Ñubayba took place only eleven years after that of Mount Tabor, 625/1227–28, and displays a very different type of fortress.19 It appears to have been built because of an alliance between the German Emperor Frederick II (who was also the uncrowned ruler of Jerusalem) and the sultan of Egypt, al-Malik al-Kāmil, directed against the Damascene coalition led by the sultan’s brother al-MuÝaÛÛam. Al-Ñubayba was probably meant to protect the main road to Damascus should the joint crusader and Ayyubid armies attack.20 The death of al-MuÝaÛÛam (1228) changed the course of affairs and the fortress was never put to the test. The first stage, constructed on the eastern edge of the spur, is a compact rectangular plan with six towers with barely any real length of curtain wall (Fig. 3). The only stretch of curtain wall from this phase is that of the lower bailey, which is constructed in a similarly crude method to that found at Mount Tabor. In 1230 it was decided to enlarge the fortress and to use the full length of the spur, which meant doubling its size. Thus began the construction of the second stage and yet there was no attempt made to improve the quality or structure of the curtain wall. It was built in the very same manner with poorly dressed stone, roughly cut. Trying to save time and expenses, the thickness of the wall was determined according to the natural terrain. In the north, above the almost vertical cliff of NaÎal Goveta, the curtain wall measures 2.3 m, while the southern wall is slightly wider and measures 2.7 m. Those extra 40 cm were added in order to provide better protection on the relatively gentle slope of the southern side. The towers, on the other hand, were better positioned. They were somewhat closer to one another on the western stretch but still fairly distant on the southern side. Almost by accident a keep was created in the eastern summit as a result of the decision to enlarge the fortress. 17 

Humphreys, Saladin, p. 159. Ibn WāÒil, Mufarrij, pp. 215–16. 19  A detailed description of the fortress is given by Paul Deschamps, Les Châteaux des Croisés en Terre Sainte II: La défense du royaume latin de Jérusalem (Paris, 1939), pp. 144–74. An architectural analysis of the construction along the western side is presented in Moshe Hartal, The Al-Ñubayba (Nimrod) Fortress, Towers 11 and 9 (Jerusalem, 2001), pp. 3–107. 20  Ronnie Ellenblum, “Who built QalÝat al-Ñubayba?,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 43 (1989), pp. 103–12. 18 

(After Deschamps, Les Châteaux des Croisés en Terre Sainte II, fig. 1)

Fig. 3 Al-Ñubayba, first and second Ayyubid building phases



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The strength of the fortress relied to a great extent on its towers and the fighting capabilities of its archers. The walls in both Mount Tabor and al-Ñubayba display the Ayyubid feeling of superiority and it was definitely not for lack of technical knowledge that the walls are inferior to the towers. The Mamluk Reconstruction By the time the Mamluks came to power in 1260 circumstances in the Middle East had evolved considerably. While the crusader states lost much of their territories, the Mongol invasion of Syria in that same year brought immense destruction and left behind them fear and terror that would determine many of the political and military moves of the future Mamluk sultans. Although much had changed in the geopolitical scene, there were no real innovations in the field of siege warfare. If anything the Mongols arrived with slightly inferior methods of siege warfare; their power lay in the vast number of skilled siege teams they employed when they first entered the Middle East.21 In 1260 al-Ñubayba was besieged by a Mongol army. According to Ibn Shaddād the fortress was destroyed, although the archaeological remains show that much survived.22 In the same year Baybars decided to rebuild it, fearful of subsequent Mongol attacks and invasions. The construction work was carried out by his most senior amir, Badr al-Dīn Bīlīk al-Khaznadār al-Úāhirī.23 The sultan followed the initial line established by the Ayyubids. The walls were repaired where they had been damaged (Figs. 4 and 5), but other than that it seems as though no-one saw any immediate need or reason to enlarge their width or to improve their construction. The Mamluks concentrated solely on the construction of towers. The towers clearly show the new regime’s priorities and abilities in the field of fortifications. Six new towers were added and others enlarged on a grand and lavish scale. Some of the 21  On Mongol siege warfare, see David Morgan, The Mongols (Oxford, 1986), pp. 65–66, 91; The Mission to Asia: Narratives and Letters of the Franciscan Missionaries in Mongolia and China in the Thirteenth Centuries, ed. Christopher Dawson, trans. a nun of Stanbrook Abbey (New York, 1955), pp. 37–38; Yang Hong, ed., Weapons in Ancient China (New York and Beijing, 1992), p. 266 (Hong’s data are taken from Wu Jing Zong Yao (The Collection of the Most Important Military Techniques) written by Zeng Gonglian at the order of the northern Sung dynasty (r. 960–1126)); Timothy May, The Mongol Art of War (Yardley, Penn., 2007), pp. 77–82. The Mongols’ sieges in the Middle East during the thirteenth century are described by Peter Thorau, The Lion of Egypt, trans. P. M. Holt (London and New York, 1992), pp. 158–59, 177, 223–24; Reuven Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks: The Mamluk Ilkhanid War, 1260–1281 (Cambridge, 1995), pp. 111–14,129–31,136–37, 162–64. 22  Ibn Shaddād, TaÞrīkh al-malik al-Úāhir, ed. AÎmad KhuÔayÔ (Wiesbaden, 1983), p. 354. 23  Al-Ñafadī, ÑalāÎ al-Dīn Khalīl b. Aybeg, Kitāb al-Wāfī biÞl-wafayāt, ed. Hellmut Ritter et al., 10 (Wiesbaden, 1980), pp. 365–66; Al-Maqrīzī, Taqī al-Dīn AÎmad b. ÝAli, Kitāb al-sulūk li-maÞrifat duwal al-mulūk, ed. Muhmmad Mustafa Ziyāda, 1 (Cairo, 1936), part 2, p. 603; Ibn Shaddād, al-Íalabī, ÝIzz al-Dīn MuÎammad b.ÝAlī, al-AÝlāq al-khaÔīra fī dhikr umarāÞ al-shām waÞl-jazīra: TāÞrīkh Îalab, ed. Yaya Zakariya. ‛Abbāra, 1 (Damascus, 1991), part 1, p. 144. For an outline of his career and position at al-Ñubayba, see Robert Irwin, The Middle East in the Middle Ages: The Early Mamluk Sultanate, 1250– 1382 (London, 1986), p. 39; Reuven Amitai, “An Arabic Inscription at al-Ñubayba (QalÝat Namrud) from the Reign of Sultan Baybars,” in Hartal, Al-Ñubayba, pp. 109–23, esp. pp. 114–15.

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Fig. 4 Al-Ñubayba, Mamluk repairs to the upper section of the southern wall

new towers were round, hexagonal or octagonal, shapes that the Ayyubids barely used in rural and frontier fortifications. The towers on the southern side were simply “stitched” to the Ayyubid wall (Fig. 6). The spacious arrow slits could accomodate two archers at any given time. The number of arrow slits in each tower and the short distances between them left little dead ground at the foot of the walls. One of the most striking features of the Mamluk building phase is the high quality of the masonry work found throughout those newly built towers. Inner and outer walls, arrow slits, arched entrances, the main gate, vaulted halls and the secret passages were all built out of stones that were carefully and precisely cut and hewn. Each course lay neatly on the one below it. The size of the stone blocks varies, the largest are found in the north-western tower, which is better known as Bīlīk’s tower; its walls are constructed out of stones of colossal size weighing up to 37 tons.24 Most of the towers added had two or three levels of fire. Some had roofs large enough to support a siege machine. It appears that much of the knowledge gained in military architecture during the Ayyubid period was carefully integrated in fortresses later rebuilt and further improved by the Mamluks. The Mamluk building phase in al-Ñubayba bears witness to some of their finest fortifications; it also clearly emphasizes the sultan’s considerable financial and organizational abilities.25 Their large towers stand sound 24 

Hartal, Al-Ñubayba, pp. 20, 23. Peter Thorau, The Lion of Egypt: Sultan Baybars I and the Near East in the Thirteenth Century (Harlow, 1992). 25 

(After Deschamps, Les Châteaux des Croisés en Terre Sainte II, fig. 1)

Fig. 5 Al-Ñubayba Mamluk restoration work, 1275

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Fig. 6 Al-Ñubayba, Mamluk tower “stitched” to the Ayyubid wall

and solid, woven into the feeble walls built by their Ayyubid predecessors. Both the Ayyubids and the Mamluks had the engineering knowledge, the funds and skilled craftsmen to match the outstanding achievements gained by the crusaders in the field of military architecture. However, they chose to develop their fortifications in a different direction – not for lack of ability but simply because there was no real reason to reconstruct or change the order of the whole fortress. Reinforcing it with large towers was a sufficient answer to the siege technology and abilities displayed by the armies in the region.

John Pecham on the Crusade William C. Jordan Princeton University [email protected] The object of this paper is to recover some aspects of the attitude of John Pecham (or Peckham) to the crusades on the basis of one of his most spirited poems. It will be useful to begin with a biographical sketch of the poet drawn in part from my own research, but mostly from Benjamin Thompson’s fine entry in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, which itself draws carefully from Decima Douie’s pioneering work of 1952. John was born around the year 1230 in the Sussex village of Patcham, whence, it is supposed, his family took their last name. The family was modest, certainly not of very great standing, although a couple of kinfolk made careers that have left a number of documentary traces. Like many bright boys whose talent in general and whose aptitude for languages in particular came to the attention of local clerics or aristocrats, he probably received sufficient support or patronage to go to Paris to pursue his studies at a relatively young age, perhaps as an adolescent in the 1240s. There he seems to have come under the influence of Roger Bacon, though whether Bacon was his teacher is uncertain. John was most interested in physics at this stage in his life and, reflecting this interest, authored works eventually on optics and astronomy. The young man returned to England in the 1250s, underwent a conversion to the evangelical life, which he describes in an autobiographical memoir, a conversion that may in part be attributed to the influence of Adam Marsh, the Franciscan lector at Oxford, who was himself the teacher of Roger Bacon, and who had also made a spiritual journey to the evangelical life. John entered the Franciscan Order and turned his attention from then on almost exclusively to theology, pastoral care, and the defense of ecclesiastical liberty. In 1257, John Pecham returned to Paris to take the doctorate and to teach. He remained in Paris for fifteen years, until 1272, lecturing, engaging in disputations, and writing. His works in these years and later included, of course, his commentary on the Sentences of Peter Lombard, as well as commentaries on several books of the Bible. He also wrote sermons, hymns, poems, an office for the Trinity, and major treatises assailing critiques by the secular clergy of the Franciscans’ views of poverty and attacking what he regarded as the extreme Aristotelianism of the Dominican theologians, in particular, of Thomas Aquinas, who was also in Paris in the 1250s and again in 1269–71.

  Benjamin Thompson, “Pecham [Peckham], John,” Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (on-line edition); Decima Douie, Archbishop Pecham (Oxford, 1952).



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Oxford beckoned in 1272, and John returned. He continued to be an able and active defender of all things Franciscan, and his talents increasingly brought him renown. In 1277, only a few years after his return to England, therefore, he was called to Rome to teach, and his efforts in Rome began to contribute to the improvement of Franciscan education there. Unexpectedly, however, he was appointed archbishop of Canterbury in January 1279. The circumstances are complicated. King Edward I had favored the election of his chancellor Robert Burnell, who was also bishop of Bath and Wells, and he expected John Pecham to intervene in Robert Burnell’s behalf with the supreme pontiff. The pope, Nicholas III (1277–80), was a protector of the Franciscan Order and a defender of the validity of their vow of poverty. John Pecham, it would have been presumed, had his ear. The pope, however, regarded Robert Burnell as insufficiently zealous of ecclesiastical liberties and much more a servant of his king as chancellor than of the Church as bishop. The pope also was averse to him, because his personal life was morally suspect. It included his keeping of a mistress and having several children by her. Thus, Pope Nicholas quashed Robert Burnell’s election and, then, appointed John Pecham in his stead on 28 January 1279. This was the beginning of the last and most contentious phase of John Pecham’s long career. In the thirteen years of his archiepiscopacy (he died in office in 1292), he managed to antagonize nearly all of his suffragan bishops in the province of Canterbury by interfering in their administration of their dioceses. He became involved in a protracted series of really very nasty struggles with the king, Edward I, over ecclesiastical property, the liberty of the Church in general, and even the war to conquer Wales. He managed to provoke the bitter hostility of the heads of the great exempt monastic houses who refused to recognize any of his claims to jurisdiction over them or over any of their corporate or individual dependents. His chief opponent among this group was the abbot of Westminster, Richard de Ware. John Pecham even alienated those who agreed with his views in general, by his refusal to compromise or to endorse their attempts to compromise in their disputes with the king, other prelates or the exempt abbots. The focus here is on John’s attitude toward holy wars. Insofar as any work has been done on this, it has addressed John’s eagerness to support the efforts of Pope Nicholas IV (1288–92) to launch a new crusade. The pope’s interest was genuine even before the loss of Acre in 1291 and only became more intense thereafter. It was the same with John Pecham. He appears to have been dedicated to the task of raising money in England for the enterprise and exercising his oratorical and

  Alan Harding, “Burnell, Robert,” Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (on-line edition). Harding waffles on Burnell’s life. He seems to accept that he had several bastard children, but nonetheless uses the phrase “[b]y repute” in relation to allegations of Burnell’s unconventional style of life for a bishop.   On all these matters, see William Jordan, A Tale of Two Monasteries: Westminster and SaintDenis in the Thirteenth Century (Princeton, 2009), pp. 185–200.



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pastoral skills vigorously to enlist people for the war. Like Pope Nicholas IV, however, John also died in 1292, and their efforts came to little. One can go back in time to the late 1260s, before John was archbishop, and get a sense of the kind of crusade he would have wanted to see mounted. While he was teaching in Paris, he wrote a considerable body of poetry. Some of his poems, like the Philomela, the story of salvation told according to liturgical time and using the nightingale as a trope for the soul, have attracted literary and religious scholars’ attention. The Philomela was sufficiently popular as to warrant a medieval French translation, Rossignol. Another one of John’s poems that has attracted interest among these scholars is the Ave vivens hostia, a meditation on the eucharistic sacrifice that, like the Ave verum corpus attributed to Thomas Aquinas, entered the Church’s hymnody to mark the elevation of the host at the consecration. Less well known, indeed hardly known at all, so far as I have been able to determine, is a poem John wrote to exhort men to take the cross for Louis IX’s second crusade of 1270. It was edited along with three other of John’s poems, with their spellings classicized, from a single late fourteenth- or early fifteenthcentury Vatican Library manuscript (Vatican 4863) by Emil Peeters in 1917. His attribution and dating have been followed by the few subsequent scholars who have mentioned the poem. Although not all modern readings conform to his, his, I think, are to be preferred. Entitled Exhortatio Christianorum contra gentem Mahometi (An Exhortation for Christians against Muhammad’s People), it comprises eight stanzas, the first seven of which are each ten lines long, the final, thirteen lines, though the first ten lines of the last stanza conform to the patterns in the previous ten-line stanzas. Line by line syllabification goes 8-7-8-7-6-6-7-8-8-7, with only two anomalies that may be copyists’ errors, although because they occur around the middle of the poem and balance each other, one line reducing the number of syllables by one, the other increasing it by one, I prefer to believe that they are deliberate flourishes: stanza 4, line 3 has seven instead of eight syllables, and stanza 5, line 7 has eight instead of seven. The extra three lines in the last stanza duplicate the syllabification of the three immediately preceding lines. These extra three lines are probably a refrain. Other poems in the manuscript are identified explicitly by the presence   For an edition, translation and commentary, see Rossignol: An Edition and Translation, ed. and trans. J. L. Baird and John Kane (Kent, OH, 1978).   It is mentioned briefly in A. G. Rigg’s History of Anglo-Latin Literature, 1066–1422 (Cambridge, 1993), p. 226, and in Gustav Krüger’s “Literature on Church History: In Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Holland and the Scandinavian Countries, 1914–1920. II. The Mediaeval Church,” Harvard Theological Review 15 (1922), pp. 393–94.   Emil Peeters, “Vier Prosen des Johannes Pecham OFM,” Franziskanische Studien 4 (1917), pp. 355–67; our poem appears on pp. 365–66. The other poems address the complaints of the suffering Church (Planctus almae matris ecclesiae) and the misery of the human condition (Deploratio humanae miserae and Deploratio hominis in externo).   Peeters, “Vier Prosen,” p. 359; Krüger, “Literature on Church History,” pp. 393–94; Rigg, History of Anglo-Latin Literature, p. 226.   Peeters’s notes to the various poems provide alternatives from the Analecta hymnica.

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of notation as songs, and the Exhortatio is probably a song as well, although the original melody is unknown. To continue for a moment with the prosody, caesuras typically occur in the eightsyllable lines between the third and fourth syllable (for example, stanza 1, line 1) or alternatively between the fourth and fifth (stanza 1, line 3) or the fifth and sixth (stanza 1, line 8). This pattern tends to be consistent from stanza to stanza. In seven-syllable lines, the caesuras occur between the third and fourth syllables (for example, stanza 1, line 2) or the fourth and fifth syllables (for instance, stanza 1, line 10), and again in a more or less consistent pattern from stanza to stanza. Sixsyllable lines which are the middle lines of all the stanzas, except for the longer last one, have caesuras between the third and fourth syllables, with one exception. Lines 5 and 6 of stanza 6 have their caesuras after the second syllable. The caesuras in the three extra lines of the last stanza, the refrain, duplicate the caesuras of the immediately preceding three lines, just as they duplicate, as I noted above, the number of syllables of these lines. Finally, every line, all eighty-three, in the entire poem, ends in –a; the last words in the first stanza, for example, are Christiana, rumphea, insana, lancea, galea, framea, ferrea, pagana, profana, area. The similarity to mono-rhymed Goliardic stanzas is obvious and may signal that the poem, though religious in the sense that its theme is crusading, has an audience in mind that is not professionally religious. I suspect that the prosody – and the reason I have treated it – may indicate the kind or kinds of melodies that were to accompany the poem. Some contemporary hymns were actually written in Goliardic. If one could make a reasonable guess about the sorts of music associated with the particular prosody of the poem, one might obtain a deeper sense of its and the writer’s propagandizing intentions – and perhaps even effects. Naturally, more work will be needed to test this hypothesis, but, in any case, clerics knowing Latin would have easily translated the aggressive sentiments of the poem for lay aristocratic audiences. The poet’s principal aim appears to have been to remind lay aristocrats of two things. First, that the crusade was a universal enterprise for all Christian peoples – let the Christian people rise up (Exsurgat gens Christiana) is the opening line. This theme is then spun out through the first six stanzas of the poem. The second theme, treated in the closing two stanzas, is the poet’s insistence that the Church, instantiated in stanza 7 in the Roman pontiff, authorizes and ultimately directs or presides over the war. Now, let us get down to details on these themes. What is most impressive in the poem is how John Pecham chooses to develop the first theme, that of a universal Christianity in arms. Having called the whole Christian family to rise up in the first stanza, he imagines that the army will arise with trumpets blaring (tuba clangat), gleaming helmets fitted ( fulgeat galea), and armed with swords (rumphea in line 2, framea in line 6). The goals are simple enough: the Christian warriors should make the enemy’s lances quake (ut insana / Vibretur et lancea). They should scatter the foe (conventionally, the pagan people, Discipetur gens pagana). And, indeed, they should wipe out (propelletur … ab



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orbis area) their obscene religion (their profane law, profana / Lex). Then John deals individually with many of the peoples of Europe and with the traits he attributes to them, traits that should motivate them to fight. The French get top billing from the expatriate English churchman living in Saint Louis’s Paris. In stanza 2 he exhorts them to reread the record of the deeds of their ancestors (Gesta legat veterana / Parentum perspicua). Presumably he means the cluster of texts which we now know as the Gesta Francorum, the Gesta Dei per Francos, and so on. With such inspiration the French ought to dare equally great or greater deeds (Audeat ardua, / Augeat strenua). They should teach the wretched sniveling enemy (Plebi nequam cernua, literally good-for-nothing people who won’t even look up) a lesson and deliver the Holy Land from the Muslims’ “insane doctrine of straw” (Doctrina foenis vesana) and return it to the “pure faith” ( fides sana) of Christ. Stanza 3 calls on the people beyond the Alps (gens ultramontana, beyond the Alps as seen from Paris), that is to say, the poet calls on the Italians to storm the temples of the Moors (Adversus Maurorum fana). Their inspiration, the inspiration for this eager and outstanding royal nation (Currens et egregia / Natio regia) to do so ought also to be, according to the poet, a set of texts that need to be reread. The texts specified would have come from the large body of medieval tales recounting the deeds of General, later Emperor, Vespasian and his son and successor Titus in the crushing of the Judean Revolt and the destruction of the Jewish Second Temple in ad 70 (Gesta legens Titiana / Recenset Vespasiana). It is the latter accomplishment in particular that calls for re-enactment (Et hic pone studia), but this time presumably against the Dome of the Rock and all the mosques of Islam. Moreover, the poet hints that the Holy Land, where the Roman events took place, is for Italians, given these ancient deeds, a kind of patrimonial land once won by the sword, ready to be won again (Facito grandia / Pugnando pro patria). The Germans come next, although they get only the first seven lines of stanza 4. Remarkably modest about his own people, John assigns the English, who he is thereby recognizing as the Germans’ kinsmen, merely the last three lines of the stanza. The poet does not recommend any reading to the Germans, but he praises them as a hardy warlike people (Robusta, belligera) with wondrously wrought swords (In spata colomana, possibly an allusion to Hungarian workmanship). The poet urges them to use their swords to “disembowel, lacerate, scourge, [and] wound” (Viscera, lacera, / verbera, vulnera) the enemy, all the while “mangling the[ir] innards” (Discerpendo viscera). He urges the simple and straightforward English (gens Anglicana, / … plana) to listen to him (Audi tu) and take ship, that is, as a seafaring people, to trust in their sails (Freta carutis) – and “hasten to Bethel” (Ad Bethel accelera), meaning to the Holy Land, God’s house. The Spanish take center stage in stanza 5. An eager and fearless folk (Velox et instrepida), they ought to, at the poet’s plea (Actume here may mean something like “at my urging,” but this is a weak philological guess), consume the sad afflictions the enemy has visited on the Christian people (Gravamina vora grana), and they

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ought literally to “stick it to them” with the super strong points of their weapons (Acie pervalida, / Percute perfida). They should use their weapons like medical instruments in order to rid the world of the perfidious Muslims’ infections (Perime morbida). A secondary result of the Spaniards’ commitment will be the weakening of Muslim power in the peninsula. Muslim filth (sordida), the pollution from a sect wholly stinking (A secta tam foetida), which abuts their own territories (Vicina tibi) in Iberia, will be washed away in a flood, cleansing the mountains, the valleys and the plains (inundentur … Montana / Et valles et loca plana). John Pecham devotes stanza 6 to a potpourri of peoples. Transylvanians and Cissilvanians (both Peeters’s and my understanding of the gens tissilana or, better, cissilvana), Hungarians, Slavs and Alans (here he probably means Cuman Christian converts) – all these people whom he recognizes as splendid archers should draw their bows (Tuos arcos explica) in the service of the universal army. The poet exhorts them further to crush, burn, and scatter (Frange …, Ure …, Dissipa) all the scrofulous, heretical and pagan detritus (strumatica, … haeretica, … paganica) that the Muslims have introduced into the world. He urges them to destroy Muhammad (which is to say, Islam, a perversion, in his view, of the testamental religions, therefore, something like a heresy) along with the moon/hunt goddess Diana (paganism, which he sees, and he is being quite faithful to the romance tradition here, as tightly associated with Islam). The imperative to cleanse the world of the cult of filth (Prava foedi cultus lava) is a way of preparing heaven for the warriors (Coelum tibi conpara). Finally, the tone and focus shift. Stanza 7 is a paean to the Roman pontiff and Church (Pater mi clarus, Romana / Lux ecclesiastica) and a reaffirmation of John’s firm belief in the prophetic certainty of the Catholic faith’s ultimate victory: “Foretell from among the mystic secrets / through mouths prophetic. / [O,] singular dominion, / [O,] heavenly mission, / [O,] angelic life[-affirming] rootstock, / spread [your] great goodness.” Progress towards this telos will be measured in part by the uprooting of the worthless crops sown by Muhammad’s followers (Ut exstirpes sata vana / Acta mahometica). All clergy, the poet declaims in stanza 8, should shout out the message (Acclama gens clericana). They should do so, knowing that they are the proper guardians of the message, but they should do so also realizing that this guardianship in no way justifies personal pride. They ought to be both commanders of the message and humble in their being (Praesidens et subdita). John then returns to one of his earlier tropes. The clergy must read or, rather, reread the sacred texts, the “folios with the laws” (Canonis volve membrana / Carpens inde monita) and thereby, as a worthy assembly dedicated to the Lord (Contio inclita / Domino dedita), discern good from evil (Pensa bona perdita). Like good watchmen, they must not rest while there is yet work to be done. The metaphor is actually quite pretty here, “the human mind should not sleep until the midday brightnesses of faith (meridiana / Fidei) are restored” (Non dormitet mens humana  

Peeters, “Vier Prosen,” p. 366.



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/ Usque quo meridiana / Fidei sunt reddita). Probably after each stanza, the three prayerful closing lines of the Exhortatio (as now written) were recited or sung: “[O] Christ, Exquisitely Delicate Light (lux … diaphana) of the whole world for those confessing you, Cast down the blasphemers” (Christe lux supermundana / Te fatentes diaphana / Blasphemos praecipita). John Pecham’s Exhortatio is a splendid example of a clerical harangue of the lay aristocracy, one intended, not unlike crusade sermons, to flatter and shame them into joining the war against the Infidel. All the images, tropes, and conceits work to this end: the poem’s martial character; its command to reread the great deeds of the ancestors; its extreme language in relation to the Muslims as infectious, filthy, wretched, sniveling, and depraved and in relation to their creed as obscene, pagan, insane, and deviant; and, finally, its celebration of the grislier forms of violence – the exquisitely vivid fantasy of disemboweling, lacerating, scourging, crushing, burning, scattering, and mangling the innards of Christ’s enemies. And everybody, men from every nation – Frenchmen, Italians, Germans, Englishmen, Spaniards and the hotchpotch of Catholic peoples further east (Transylvanians, Cissilvanians, Hungarians, Slavs, and Cuman converts) – were invited to contribute their special expertise to the slaughter, and all this to the greater glory of Christ. I feel fairly certain that further study of this poem would yield additional insights into John Pecham’s thinking on the crusade and his aims as a poet, and that it would contribute productively to the continuing exploration and analysis of crusade propaganda. I have only skimmed the surface in this brief essay. It seems a shame that this poem has not been more widely appreciated and utilized by specialists on the crusades, and it is my hope that this little excursus may be the commencement of a new and continuing interest in the Exhortatio and the other so-called minor poems and songs of John Pecham as well.

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Appendix: John Pecham’s Exhortatio Christianorum contra gentem Mahometi (From Emil Peeters, “Vier Prosen des Johannes Pecham OFM,” Franziskanische Studien 4 (1917), pp. 365–66).

[1] Exsurgat gens Christiana Exsurgat et rumphea, Tuba clangat ut insana Vibretur et lancea Fulgeat galea Feriat framea, Strepant arma ferrea. Discipetur gens pagana Et propelletur profana Lex ab orbis area. [2] Assurgat gens Gallicana In armis praecipua. Gesta legat veterana Parentum perspicua. Audeat ardua, Augeat strenua, Penset quod est vacua Terra sancta, fides sana, Doctrina foenis vesana Plebi nequam cernua. [3] Veni gens ultramontana De tota Italia, Adversus Maurorum fana Currens et egregia Natio regia, Facito grandia Pugnando pro patria; Gesta legens Titiana Recenset Vespasiana Et hic pone studia.



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Translation: I have tried to make the translation as literal as possible, except when it would render the poem stilted. I have also provided words like “their”, “our”, “and”, and so on, for euphony and clarity. The last three lines of the poem in manuscript, I am treating as a refrain, to follow after each stanza. An Exhortation for Christians against Muhammad’s People Christian people, rise up! Arise with the sword. Let your trumpet blare so that their unclean Lance trembles. Let your sword smite. Let your weapons of iron resound. May the pagans be dispersed And the profane law expunged From the world.   Christ, Exquisitely Delicate Light   Of the whole world for those confessing You   Cast down the blasphemers! Frenchmen, rise up! Gifted in arms. Read your ancestors’ Glorious deeds of old. Dare arduous tasks. Add to the record of their strivings. Be aware that our pure faith Has been brought low in the Holy Land By wretches with an insane doctrine of straw.   Christ, Exquisitely Delicate Light, etc. Come people from beyond the Alps, From all of Italy. Exalted regal nation, That has accomplished great deeds Fighting for the fatherland, Hasten against the temples of the Moors. Read of the acts of Titus, consider Vespasian’s, And exert yourselves now.   Christ, Exquisitely Delicate Light, etc.

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[4] Tu consurge, gens Germana Robusta, belligera In spata colomana Ad certamen propera Viscera, lacera, Verbera, vulnera, Discerpendo viscera. Audi tu, gens Anglicana, Freta carutis et plana, Ad Bethel accelera. [5] Actume tu, gens Hispana, Velox et instrepida Gravamina vora grana Acie pervalida, Percute perfida, Perime morbida Ut inundentur sordida Vicina tibi montana Et valles et loca plana A secta tam foetida. [6] Transsilvana tissilana Surgens gens Ungarica Cum Slavica cum Alana Tuos arcus explica; Frange strumatica, Ure haeretica, Dissipa paganica Mahometum cum Diana. Prava foedi cultus lava, Coelum tibi conpara. [7] Pater mi clarus, Romana Lux ecclesiastica, Praefate inter archana Per ora prophetica. Dicio unica, Missio coelica, Vita stirps angelica



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You, German people, robust, Warlike, rise up With a sword of well-wrought steel! Make haste to the conflict! Disembowel, lacerate, Scourge, and wound, Mangling their innards! You, unpretentious English people, dare, Trusting in your sails, And hasten to Bethel.   Christ, Exquisitely Delicate Light, etc. You, Spanish people, hearken to me! Swift and fearless, Consume our miseries! With your mighty spear point Impale the faithless, Extinguish their infections! Make sure that the impurities Around you – on mountains and valleys and plains – Of a sect so fetid Are washed away.   Christ, Exquisitely Delicate Light, etc. Transylvanians, Cisylvanians, Hungarian people, Slavs and Alans Rising up together, Draw your bows. Crush everything infectious, Burn every heresy, Scatter everything pagan, Muhammad and Diana. Cleanse the depravities of filthy worship. Make heaven ready to receive you.   Christ, Exquisitely Delicate Light, etc. My worthy father, the Roman Ecclesiastical light, Foretell from among the mystic secrets Through mouths prophetic, Singular dominion, Heavenly mission, Angelic life-affirming rootstock.

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Probitate grandi mana, Ut exstirpes sata vana Acta Mahometica. [8] Acclama gens clericana, Praesidens et subdita Canonis volve membrana Carpens inde monita. Contio inclita Domino dedita, Pensa bona perdita. Non dormitet mens humana Usque quo meridiana Fidei sunt reddita. Christe lux supermundana Te fatentes diaphana Blasphemos praecipita.



John Pecham on the Crusade

Spread your great goodness, That you may uproot the worthless crops Sown by Muslims.   Christ, Exquisitely Delicate Light, etc. Shout out, clerical people, In command yet humble. Ponder the pages of the laws, Noting the counsels in them. A worthy assembly Dedicated to the lord, Weigh good deeds and damnable. The human mind should not sleep Until the midday brightnesses Of faith are restored.   Christ, Exquisitely Delicate Light, etc.

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The Fortunes of War: An Eleventh-Century Greek Liturgical Manuscript (Sinai gr 512) and Its History Andrew Jotischky University of Lancaster [email protected] Western chronicles are explicit about the fate of Acre when the city was conquered by Sultan al-Ashraf in May 1291. The siege brought destruction on a huge scale, supposedly so that the city could offer no opportunity as a foothold for any future crusade. Very little is known, however, about the spoils taken from the city after its fall. Given its importance as the centre of the Frankish presence in the Levant for over a century, and especially given the number of religious houses clustered in the city, and the fact that the assault apparently took many by surprise, one can readily imagine that the loot must have been considerable. Presumably some precious objects were saved when King Henry and Otto de Grandson escaped the city on Venetian ships for Cyprus. More were probably lost when the boat carrying the patriarch of Jerusalem, Nicholas de Hanape, sank with the weight of the refugees he had allowed to climb aboard. Some personal wealth and portable ecclesiastical treasures had been taken to Cyprus in mid-May, before the mass exodus started. The Catalan Templar Roger de Flor apparently extorted portable treasures from Frankish noblewomen in payment for passage on a large Templar passenger ship, though these are said to have been subsequently reclaimed by the Order and restored to their owners. Although some individual and religious communities had emigrated before 1291, only those individuals and families who could afford to pay for their passage were able to escape. The number of refugees was small compared to those enslaved or killed after the city fell, so most of the possessions of the inhabitants of Acre presumably became spoils of war.   Recent archaeological evidence shows that the city was not completely destroyed, and Venetian shipping was using the port again in the fifteenth century. See Benjamin Arbel, “Venetian Trade in Fifteenth-Century Acre: The Letters of Francesco Bevilaqua (1471–1472),” Asian and African Studies 22 (1988), pp. 227–88.   Marie-Luise Favreau-Lilie, “The Military Orders and the Escape of the Christian Population from the Holy Land,” Journal of Medieval History 19 (1993), pp. 201–27, the best detailed study of the siege, refers (p. 202) to the surprise engendered in the West by the attack on Acre.   “De excidio urbis Acconis,” II, 3, in Excidii Aconis gestorum collectio, ed. Robert B. C. Huygens, CCCM 202 (Turnhout, 2004), p. 239.   Favreau-Lilie, “Military Orders,” pp. 204, 210–11, and n. 6–7. The ship in question, the Falco, could apparently take 1,500 passengers, most of whom were probably Tuscan merchants and their families.   On Roger Flor, see The Catalan Expedition to the East from the Chronicle of Ramon Muntaner, trans. Robert Hughes, I (Barcelona, 2006), p. 23. The Templar of Tyre says that the refugees who arrived



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One item of loot whose fate we do know is a manuscript, now Sinai, St. Katharine, MS gr 512. This manuscript had been in the possession of an Orthodox monastery in the Holy Land, but by 1291 was in Acre, where it fell into Muslim hands before being acquired again by a different Orthodox monastery in the Holy Land, and eventually, in 1530, passing into the possession of St. Katharine on Mount Sinai. The seizure of the manuscript in May 1291 is recorded in a marginal note on the second folio: This book was taken [as spoil] by the Agarenes during the conquest of Ptolemais [Acre] and it was bought back from the hands of the Agarenes by the monk Bessarion through his toils. I beg you, then, O brethren, you who read this book to pray for me, for the love of the Lord, for I am a great sinner and I have not done any good work. May God forgive you and me now and forever, amen.

This is one of three marginal notes that offer clues as to the ownership of the manuscript at different times. Although they do not tell us the full story, these notes enable us to reconstruct a plausible version of the history of the manuscript between its creation in the mid-eleventh century and its arrival at its final resting place in 1530. Such a reconstruction has more than a passing or antiquarian interest. Besides telling us something about the looting of Acre, it also allows us to reconstruct with greater confidence the history of the monastery that owned the manuscript before 1291, and, perhaps most significantly, to begin to understand something of the circumstances and practices connected with the transfer and acquisition of manuscripts in the kingdom of Jerusalem. Sinai gr 512 is part of what was originally a multi-volume set of books that together comprised a full menologion, or liturgical calendar. The menologion form dates from the tenth century, when an imperial official, Symeon Metaphrastes, devised it as a way of standardizing the liturgical readings for saints’ feast days. Typically, full menologia were divided into ten volumes, starting with the first month in the Orthodox liturgical calendar, September. The volumes are arranged by day, the entry for each day beginning with the liturgical odes in praise of the particular saint or commemoration for that day, followed by an account of the life of the saint. Deluxe menologia, such as that of which Sinai gr 512 formed part, also had miniatures of the saints. In the case of this manuscript, however, the decorative scheme is particularly unusual and innovative. Most menologia, if they in Cyprus were impoverished, Cronaca del Templare di Tiro 1243–1314: La caduta degli Stati Crociati nel racconto di un testimone oculare 280 (516), ed. and trans. Laura Minervini, Nuovo Medioevo 59 (Naples, 2000), pp. 230–31; Francesco Amadi, Chroniques d’Amadi et de Strumbaldi, ed. Louis de Mas Latrie (Paris, 1891), pp. 220–26. On Templar ships, and on the probable numbers of casualties, see Favreau-Lilie, “Military Orders,” pp. 201–27.   Sinai, St. Katharine, MS gr 512, fol. 2v; Kurt Weitzmann, Illuminated Manuscripts at St Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai, Medieval and Renaissance Studies 5 (Collegeville, Minn. 1973), p. 70.   “Menologion,” in Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium, ed. Alexander Kazhdan et al., 3 vols. (Oxford, 1991), 2:1341; Hippolyte Delehaye, “Les menologues grecs,” Analecta Bollandiana 16 (1897), pp. 311–29.



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were illuminated at all, had ornamental headpieces for each saint. They might also have single miniatures of some of the saints at the head of the entry for that saint’s life. Our menologion, however, has, at the beginning of each volume, the saints for that month arranged in rows as a full-page illumination. Thus, for example, in Sinai gr 512, Paul the Hermit converses with St. Anthony, while Polyeuktos of Armenia, the saint for 9 January, stands next to Marcian, whose feast day is the 10th. They are followed by Theodosios the Coenobiarch, in monastic dress, and the martyrs for 13 January, Hermylos and Stratonikos. The feast day for 14 January, the holy martyrs of Raithou, is represented by showing three monks suffering decapitation by Roman soldiers. For 15 January John “the hut-dweller” is shown in monastic robes, while next to him, for the feast of Peter’s chains, St. Peter is being visited in prison by the angel who will secure his miraculous release. A similar scheme, in four rows, is found at the beginning of September in one of the other volumes of this menologion, Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Barocci 230. Symeon the Stylite, the saint whose feast opens the liturgical year, is shown on his column behind a grille, in the standard iconography found also in mural paintings in Cyprus, Greece and Syria. Two other eastern monastic saints are shown in September: Chariton, dressed as an elderly bearded monk and carrying a martyr’s cross, and Kyriakos, a sixth-century monk of St. Sabas celebrated in Cyril of Scythopolis’s Lives, who is shown enclosed in a cell. This arrangement provides a visual table of contents for readers. It also marks an iconographic departure from previous menologia, probably borrowed from narrative cycles of saints’ lives. The effect of this scheme is to present the saints for each month not as individual heroes or exemplars but as a community; a heavenly society to which membership is attained by possession of certain attributes, performance of miracles, or through the experience of martyrdom. The depiction of some of these saints interacting with each other reinforces the idea that saints whose lives had certain features in common while on earth, even if separated by geographical distance or living centuries apart, are essentially members of the same eternal community. The little that is known about the history of this manuscript comes from internal evidence in the form of scribal colophons and memoranda of ownership. Six of the original set that are now thought to have made up the whole menologion survive – besides Sinai gr 512, which contains the month of January, two are in Paris, one in Oxford (the first volume, for September), another in Vienna (October) and one on Mount Athos (December).10 The date of the completion of this menologion   A surviving example from the Holy Land is Jerusalem, Greek Orthodox Patriarchate MS Sabas 63/208, a twelfth-century menaion with miniatures of some saints: e.g., Symeon the Stylite, Sabas and the Blessed Virgin.   Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Barocci 230, fol. 3v. 10  The others are Oxford Barocci 230; Vienna, Österreichischen Nationalbibliothek, MS Hist gr 6; Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS gr 580 and 1499; and Athos, MS Laura D 82. The identification of these six manuscripts as having comprised a set is made by Weitzmann, Illuminated Manuscripts, pp. 72–73, and Irmgard Hutter, Corpus der byzantinischen Miniaturhandschriften. Oxford I

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is given in a note in one of the Paris volumes as 1055/6, and the scribe’s name as Euthymios.11 Both on stylistic grounds, and on the basis of the dating system used by Euthymios, in which he uses the reigns of the emperor and patriarch of Constantinople, it can be assumed that the place of origin of the full set of this menologion was the imperial capital. We do not know who the original owner was, or for whom the menologion was made. However, by some point in the thirteenth century the book was in the Holy Land, as the property of the monastery of Chariton. As with the date of composition, this piece of information comes from a marginal note recording ownership, which was written in a thirteenth-century hand.12 This does not necessarily mean, however, that the book only arrived at Chariton in the thirteenth century. The circumstantial evidence, indeed, suggests the greater likelihood that the record of ownership was made long after the acquisition of the book by the monastery, and that the book came into the possession of Chariton at some point in the twelfth century, or even in the eleventh. A brief summary of the history of the monastery of Chariton will help to provide a context for the problem. The founder, Chariton, was a pioneer of the laura type of monastic community in the Holy Land. Chariton himself came to Palestine from Asia Minor in the early fourth century. The monastery in wadi Khuraitun, due south of Bethlehem near Tekoa, that came to bear his name followed his earlier foundations of Faran (wadi Fara) and Douka (Jebel Quruntul).13 The laura was based on the principle of combining solitary eremitism with cenobitic monasticism. Monks lived in individual cells during the week, feeding themselves and saying their liturgical offices privately, and joined together at the weekend for a communal liturgy in the monastery church. The emphasis was thus on individual contemplation and the development of ascetic practices by each monk according to his ability.14 The laura of Chariton appears to have survived the destructive Persian invasion of Palestine in 614 and continued to function after the establishment of Arab rule in 638. Its exposed position in the south of the Judaean Desert, however, made it more vulnerable to raids than other monasteries closer to Jerusalem, and it suffered during the period of unrest accompanying the War of the Watermelon at the end of (Stuttgart, 1977), pp. 49–51, on the basis of stylistic and palaeographical analysis; see also Hutter, “Le copiste du Métaphraste: On a Centre for Manuscript Production in Eleventh Century Constantinople,” in I manoscritti greci tra riflessione e dibattito: Atti del V Colloquio Internazionale di Paleografia Greca (Cremona, 4–10 ottobre 1998), ed. Giancarlo Prato (Florence, 2000), pp. 535–86. The Vienna manuscript is listed by Herbert Hunger, Katalog der griechischen Handschriften der Österreichischen Nationalbibliothek 1: Codices historici, codices philosophici et philologici (Vienna, 1961), pp. 7–8; Spyridos Lambros, Catalogue of the Greek Manuscripts in the Library of the Laura on Mount Athos, Harvard Theological Studies 12 (Cambridge, Mass., 1925), p. 72. 11  Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS gr 1499, fol. 421r. 12  Oxford Barocci 230, fol. 4r. 13  “La vie prémétaphrastique de St Chariton,” ed. G. Garitte, Bulletin de l’Institut historique belge de Rome 21 (1940–41), II–XXIII, pp. 17–33. St. Chariton is sometimes also known simply as the Old Laura, or as Souka. 14  The best discussion of the laura form of monasticism is Joseph Patrich, Sabas, Leader of Palestinian Monasticism (Washington D.C., 1995), pp. 57–136, 169–96.



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the eighth and beginning of the ninth century, being sacked three times between 797 and 813.15 Despite this it continued to function, and there is evidence of monastic activity at Chariton from external sources at both ends of the ninth century; indeed, one of the most important Christian Arabic writers of the period, Stephen of Ramla, was a monk there at the end of the century.16 Some of the Judaean desert monasteries suffered during the bout of anti-Christian persecution launched by alHakim in 1009, but, conversely, on this occasion Chariton’s distance from major population centres probably saved it. When the Russian pilgrim Daniel visited in 1106–7, the monastery’s church was still functioning, though the encircling wall had disappeared.17 The monastery is mentioned by pilgrims in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, largely in connection with a legend that circulated about a miracle concerning the body of the founder, which had apparently remained untouched despite attempts by Muslims to burn it. But although Thietmar (1217) mentions the monastery in the present tense, as though it was still functioning, he does not describe its condition or appearance, as he does for some other monasteries, such as St. Katharine’s on Mount Sinai.18 Strictly speaking, there is no indication that any of the pilgrims who were aware of Chariton’s existence and history actually visited the site and, in his recent archaeological survey, Denys Pringle concluded that the monastery was unlikely to have been occupied during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.19 Thanks in part to the colophon in the first volume of the manuscript, Oxford Barocci 230, which firmly locates the book at Chariton in the thirteenth century, we are now in a position to overcome these doubts and to demonstrate the continued existence of the community well into the crusader period. We also know that the monastery had a functioning scriptorium in 1225, as the scribal colophon of an Arabic manuscript of the Homilies of John Chrysostom, Sinai arab 281, indicates.20 The colophon in Sinai gr 512, however, tells us that the menologion 15  The Chronographia of Theophanes, ed. and trans. Cyril Mango and Roger Scott (Oxford, 1997), pp. 165, 178; PG 99:1167–74; Robert Schick, The Christian Communities of Palestine from Byzantine to Islamic Rule (Princeton, 1995), pp. 243–45. 16  Sidney Griffith, “Stephen of Ramlah and the Christian Kerygma in Ninth-Century Palestine,” Journal of Ecclesiastical History 36 (1985), pp. 23–45. 17  “The Life and Journey of Daniel, Abbot of the Russian Land,” LVI, trans. W. F. Ryan, in Jerusalem Pilgrimage 1099–1185, ed. John Wilkinson (London, 1988), p. 149. 18  Magistri Thietmari Peregrinatio, X, ed. J. C. M. Laurent (Hamburg, 1857), p. 29. Twelfthcentury guides mentioning St. Chariton are the anonymous “Descriptio locorum,” (1131–43), XXXIV, in S. de Sandoli, Itinera Hierosolymitana Crucesignatorum, saec. XII–XIII, Pubblicazioni dello Studium Biblicum Franciscanum. Collectio Maior 24, 4 vols. (Jerusalem, 1978–84), 2:100; Rorgo Fretellus de Nazareth et sa description de la Terre Sainte, ed. P. C. Boeren (Amsterdam, 1980), p. 30; John of Würzburg, “Descriptio locorum Terrae Sanctae,” in Peregrinationes tres, ed. Robert B. C. Huygens, CCCM 139 (Turnhout, 1994), p. 137; “Anon VI,” in de Sandoli, Itinera, 3:68; and Eugesippus, Tractatus de distantiis locorum Terrae Sanctae, PG 133:996. The legend of the founder’s incorruptible body was also known by Peter de Pennis in the 1330s, Charles Kohler, “Libellus de Pierre de Pennis de locis ultramarinis,” ROL 9 (1902), p. 367. 19  Denys Pringle, The Churches of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem: A Corpus, 4 vols. (Cambridge, 1993–2009), 2:222–23. 20  Sinai, St. Katharine, MS arab 281, fol. 232v.

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was in Acre in 1291. Now, because the manuscript is a liturgical menologion, which would have been essential for the observance of the liturgy, it is inconceivable that the community would have disposed of it while it was still being used; consequently, we can assume that the removal of the manuscript to Acre is evidence that the monastery of Chariton itself was no longer functioning. When in the thirteenth century this happened is a matter for speculation, but by 1280 Burchard of Mount Zion was reporting that crowds of pilgrims “used to visit” Chariton.21 In or soon after 1244, when Jerusalem was overrun by the Kharazmian Turks and Christian hegemony over the region ended, would probably be the best estimate for the final abandonment of the monastery. The overwhelming likelihood is that the manuscript was made for a monastery, since the iconography of the miniatures reveals a particular interest in monastic founders and fathers. One possible scenario is that the menologion was made in the first place for St. Chariton. Given the deluxe quality of the manuscript, this would presume noble, if not imperial, patronage on behalf of the monastery. Although no other connection between St. Chariton and Theodora, the empress at the time of the completion of the manuscript, has been found, this is not prima facie implausible. In 1037–38 the emperor Michael the Paphlagonian (1034–41) concluded a treaty with the caliph al-Mustansir (1036–94) according to the terms of which the Anastasis church in Jerusalem was to be rebuilt at imperial expense. As Martin Biddle has shown, rebuilding had in fact already begun after the destruction by al-Hakim (1009) as early as 1012, but it was not until the 1030s that Byzantine craftsmen became involved in the physical reconstruction of the shrine.22 The attack on churches in Jerusalem in 1009 was accompanied by attacks on the Judaean desert monasteries, and the flight of monks and Christian laity to Byzantine territory. The rebuilding of the Anastasis was well under way by the 1020s, but the recovery of the monasteries was patchier. Although St. Chariton may, as indicated above, have survived destruction, the presence of Byzantine masons and craftsmen in Jerusalem in the second quarter of the eleventh century must have led to an enhanced knowledge of the condition of the Judaean desert monasteries in the wider Orthodox world. Monks from St. Sabas had been among those who fled the persecution of 1009 for Byzantine territory, but in the 1030s Byzantines were once again entering St. Sabas as monks.23 The date of the menologion, 1055/6, thus fits generally with a 21  “Burchardi de Monte Sion descriptio terrae sanctae,” in Peregrinatores medii aevi quatuor, ed. J. C. M. Laurent (Leipzig, 1873), p. 82. 22  Martin Biddle, The Tomb of Christ (Stroud, 1999), pp. 74–79. See also Robert Ousterhout, “Rebuilding the Temple: Constantine Monomachus and the Holy Sepulchre,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 48 (1981), pp. 66–78. 23  Lazaros of Mt. Galesion became a monk at St. Sabas in the 990s, but fled with other Sabaite monks to Asia Minor in 1009, The Life of Lazaros of Mt Galesion, an Eleventh Century Pillar Saint, XVI–XX, ed. and trans. Richard P. Greenfield, Byzantine Saints Lives in Translation 3 (Washington DC, 2000), pp. 96–105. Christodoulos, like Lazaros a native of Asia Minor, entered St. Sabas in the 1030s, Christodoulos: Rule, Testament and Codicil of Christodoulos for the Monastery of St. John the Theologian on Patmos, trans. Patricia Karlin-Hayter, Byzantine Monastic Foundation Documents,



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revival of interest in the desert monasteries among Byzantines. Another indication that the menologion may have been made for the monastery of Chariton is the iconography of St. Chariton himself in the first volume, Oxford Barocci 230, which covers the month of September. Chariton is shown on the front page as a desert monk but carrying a martyr’s cross. This detail is at first sight puzzling given that Chariton did not die a martyr’s death. The Vita Charitonis, however, emphasizes the founder’s imprisonment and suffering in Iconium during the Great Persecution before his release enabled him to make the journey to the Holy Land. The founding of his first laura, Faran, came about as a result of a further episode in which he was almost killed by brigands; after his miraculous release, he founded a monastic community in the very cave where he had been held by the brigands.24 Both of these episodes are offered by the author of the Vita as proofs of the saint’s willingness to die as a martyr, even though circumstances did not permit this fate. The perceived need for Chariton to appear as a martyr is probably to be related to the immediate cultural context of the composition of the Vita. Chariton, though the initiator of the laura form of monasticism, had by the sixth century as yet attracted no literary tradition. The author of the Vita, indeed, acknowledges that he was relying on the oral tradition of the community at Tekoa of which he was a member.25 John Binns has suggested that the composition of the Vita was a response to the popularity of Cyril of Scythopolis’s Lives of Euthymios and Sabas, and an attempt by the monks of the Old Laura to redress the balance in favour of Chariton.26 By the eleventh century, however, when Sinai 512/Barocci 230 was made, the laura of Sabas had gained considerable lustre from the martyrdom of its monks by the Persians in 614.27 The representation of Chariton as a martyr in the menologion may thus be a reminder for the eleventh-century monks of the Old Laura of their founder’s claims to the martyr’s crown. The text of the Metaphrastean Life, indeed, follows the sixthcentury anonymous author in emphasizing the willing suffering of the saint during the Persecution.28 A further clue as to Chariton’s “martyrdom” may be provided by the legend that came to be associated with the translation of his body from the monastery church to Jerusalem. According to this tradition, at his death his monks, not wanting to be left without a shepherd, prayed that they might all die with their master. This prayer was granted, and when an Arab raiding party came much later to despoil the tombs by burning the incorruptible bodies, they found that the bodies resisted the flames. This 5 vols. (Washington DC, 2000), 1, A3, p. 579. See also Elisabeth Malamut, Sur la route des saints byzantins (Paris, 1993), p. 43. 24  Vita Charitonis, II–XI, Garitte, “La vie,” pp. 17–25. 25  Vita Charitonis, XLII, Garitte, “La vie,” pp. 44–45. 26  John Binns, Ascetics and Ambassadors of Christ: The Monasteries of Palestine, 314–63 (Oxford, 1994), p. 46, based on Vita Charitonis, XLII, Garitte, “La vie,” pp. 44–45. 27  Epistula ad Eustathium, PG 89:1424–28, describes the burial of 44 martyrs in the laura church in tombs reserved for abbots; cf. “Life and Journey of Daniel,” p. 140, listing the “holy fathers” whose tombs could still be seen in the monastery. 28  Vita S. Charitonis, II–V, PG 116:900–905.

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story was known by Western pilgrims from the mid-twelfth century, and is told in its fullest form by Thietmar.29 It survives in pilgrimage literature into the fourteenth century, and provides the only association with the monastery for pilgrimage guides, like that of Peter de Pennis, which did not in fact reveal any accurate knowledge of the site or its history. This legend is not known in any Greek source, but if it provides the explanation for the martyr’s cross in the miniature of Chariton, then it must already have been circulating in Constantinople by the mid-eleventh century, when the manuscript was made. The fact that it is repeated in Western pilgrimage accounts surely indicates, however, that it is of local Palestinian origin. Imperial patronage of Judaean desert monasteries is more firmly attested for the reign of Manuel Komnenos. Manuel is known to have played a significant role in the restoration of Orthodox monasteries in the region. He provided the funds, and perhaps also the builders, for the reconstruction of St. Elias, near Bethlehem, after an earthquake, for rebuilding at Choziba in wadi Qilt and for St. John Prodromos by the Jordan. He is also known to have given books to Palestinian monasteries.30 Since the only evidence for the functioning of Chariton in the twelfth century (as opposed to the thirteenth) is the testimony of Abbot Daniel that he worshipped in the church, it is possible that the monastery was in fact in a ruinous state until Manuel took a hand in restoring it, and that part of the process of giving new life to the community was the donation of a necessary liturgical book. Although there is no firm evidence, circumstantial evidence makes either of these surmises plausible. In contrast, it is more difficult to see how or under what circumstances the book could have been acquired by Chariton in the thirteenth century, the date of the inscription of ownership. Constantinople was under Latin rule between 1204 and 1261 and contacts between both the former imperial capital and its successor, Nicaea, and the monasteries of the Holy Land, were non-existent. If the manuscript had been in the hands of a Constantinopolitan monastery between the date of its construction and 1204, it is possible that it was looted by crusaders during the sack of the city. Some crusaders did go on to the Holy Land to fulfil their pilgrimage vows after the fall of Constantinople; one of the more prominent of these, the Cistercian abbot Martin of Pairis, is also known to have acquired considerable spoils from the sack.31 There is no indication, however, that Martin visited or even knew about the monastery of Chariton, and, given his attitude toward Orthodox monastic property in 1204, the donation of the menologion to Chariton would have represented a profound change of heart. Alternatively, the manuscript could have been rescued from Constantinople and taken to Nicaea, but the circumstances under which it would then have found its way to Chariton are more speculative than either of the scenarios outlined above. 29 

See above, n. 18. John Phokas, Descriptio Terrae Sanctae, PG 133:952, 956; Pringle, Churches, 1:91, for the inscription at Choziba; Derwas Chitty, “Two Monasteries in the Wilderness of Judaea,” Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly Statement (1928), p. 138. 31  Gunther of Pairis, Historia Constantinopolitana, PL 212:250–51. 30 



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The question of how the menologion arrived in Acre in the first place can only be guessed at in the present state of our knowledge. If this happened through the agency of Orthodox monks, the assumption must be that it was taken there deliberately, probably by refugee monks from Chariton, to an Orthodox monastery or church in the city. From the 1220s until the capture and sack of Acre by al-Ashraf in 1291, the most prominent Orthodox religious house in the city was the monastery of St. Sabas. This monastery had no connection with the Judaean desert laura, but was founded by the Serbian prince Savas Nemanjic in 1230. The circumstances of the foundation are described by Savas’s biographer Domentijan. While on his first pilgrimage to the Holy Land, in 1230–31, Savas founded two monasteries dedicated to his namesake: one on Mount Zion, the other in Acre.32 The monastery in Acre was in fact the refoundation as an Orthodox house of the Latin monastery of St. George, located in the centre of the city, which Savas bought, presumably as an unused building.33 We have already established that the monastery of St. Chariton was still functioning in 1225, but had been abandoned by 1281, and surmised that the most plausible date for the collapse of the community is the period of, or immediately after, the Kharazmian invasion in 1244. St. Sabas in Acre was still a relatively new house by that date, and might therefore have been actively collecting liturgical books. There is other evidence of liturgical books being moved for safety during times of external threat. A marginal note in a Life of St. Symeon records its return to its “home” monastery of St. Symeon on the Wondrous Mountain, near Antioch, at some point in the twelfth century, through the mediation of Joachim, the metropolitan of Damascus.34 The book had evidently been taken for safe keeping to St. John Prodromos, perhaps in the late eleventh century, when Antioch was attacked by invading forces twice in just over a decade. Christodoulos, founder of the monastery of St. John on Patmos, must have taken his library with him when he fled the island for the shelter of Euboea in the face of Seljuq raids in 1092, since the codicil to his Rule specifies that they were to be left to the monastery.35 However, the second codicil to his Rule, which was signed in March 1093, just before his death, also reveals the importance that he attached to ensuring that books he had been given by the patriarch of Constantinople for the establishment of his first monastic community, on Mount Latros, remained there after his death; also, conversely, the danger that they might be seized back by the patriarchate. After the flight of the 32  Domentijan, Zivot svetoga Simeuna i svetoga Save, ed. D. Danicic (Belgrade, 1865); Johannes Pahlitzsch, “Athanasios II, a Greek Orthodox Patriarch of Jerusalem (c.1231–1244),” in Autour, pp. 465–74; Dimitri Obolensky, Six Byzantine Portraits (Oxford, 1988), pp. 105–72. 33  On the location, see David Jacoby, “Three Notes on Crusader Acre,” Zeitschrift für deutschen Pälastina-Vereins 109 (1993), pp. 83–85, and idem, “Crusader Acre in the Thirteenth Century: Urban Layout and Topography,” Studi Medievali 20 (1979), pp. 27–28. Jacoby demonstrates the existence of other Orthodox institutions in thirteenth-century Acre; for example, St. John of the Greeks, attested in a charter of 1273, and a metochion of St. Margaret of Mount Carmel. 34  Jerusalem, Greek Orthodox Patriarchate, MS Sabas 108, fol. 202r. 35  Christodoulos, B7, C6–7, pp. 596, 599. Christodoulos had also inventoried the books to ensure that none were lost.

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monks of Latros in a Turkish raid, Christodoulos sent an armed vessel to rescue the books and bring them back to Constantinople for safe keeping. Evidently, however, once they were safely in Hagia Sophia, the cathedral clergy regarded them as their own, even though they were the personal property of Christodoulos, and he had some trouble in securing their release.36 The acquisition of a liturgical book by a different monastery after its original owners had ceased to exist, however, reveals different monastic attitudes towards these manuscripts. That they might be regarded as precious or potentially valuable objects in themselves is obvious from the fact that Sinai gr 512 was retained by its Muslim captor rather than being destroyed. But what use could St. John Prodromos have had for a single manuscript comprising only part of one month of a menologion? A monastery with the venerable history of St. John would presumably have its own menologion for liturgical use. Did such a monastery acquire an illuminated manuscript such as Sinai gr 512 because of its miniatures, regardless of whether it was needed for liturgical observances or not? Since not all menologia were illustrated, and the miniatures in those that were might reveal substantial differences in iconography, a manuscript might be valued for a particular way of rendering a saint, or simply because it depicted a saint whose feast was traditionally important to the community. In Sinai gr 512, for example, the depiction against 14 January of the forty martyrs of Raithou, who were Sinaite monks of the sixth century would have been of particular interest to St. Katharine’s, the monastery that was eventually to acquire the manuscript in 1530.37 Not only the miniatures but also the texts in menologia might differ from one to another, depending on the place of origin, so even a fragmentary menologion could provide an addition to the liturgy for a saint’s feast day. The role of the monk Bessarion in the salvaging of Sinai gr 512 is also worthy of comment. In his note on fol. 2 he says that he bought the book through great toil, and asks readers to pray for him as a sinner who has done no good works. Such formulae as the latter are commonly found in scribal colophons, and indicate that monks might undertake copying work as penitential exercises, or at least that the copying might serve as a good deed in expiation of sins.38 Bessarion seems to have seen his ransoming of the manuscript on behalf of St. John Prodromos as such a deed; certainly it demanded on his part a sacrifice of some kind in the form of the trouble he took to procure the manuscript, or to raise the money to buy it back. This in itself indicates a desire to retain liturgical manuscripts in Orthodox hands rather than allowing them to be taken by Muslims. When the manuscript came back into the 36 

Christodoulos, C7, p. 599. Ammonios’s account of the martyrdom is in Illustrium Christi martyrum lecti triumphi, ed. Franciscus Combesis (Paris, 1660), pp. 88–132; see also Philip Mayerson, “An Inscription in the Monastery of St Catherine and the Martyr Tradition in Sinai,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 30 (1976), pp. 375–79. 38  See the examples in Wachtung Djobadze, Materials for the Study of Georgian Monasteries in the Western Environs of Antioch on the Orontes, Corpus Scriptorum Christianorum Orientalium Subsidia 48 (Louvain, 1976), pp. 5–12, 33–37. 37 



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hands of an Orthodox monastic community through the efforts of Bessarion, it was evidently on behalf of a different monastery, since Sinai gr 512 has a further note on fol. 45r recording its ownership by the monastery of St. John Prodromos. Since the inscription of ownership by St. John is in the name of a different monk, Theodoritos, we cannot even say whether Bessarion was himself a monk of St. John or whether he simply happened to be in a position to act as a purchaser of the manuscript.39 Nor, indeed, is it clear when the transaction that resulted in the return of the manuscript to Orthodox hands took place. Bessarion’s mention of the fall of Acre suggests that it was in the recent past, but he does not supply a date for his pious rescue. Was he, like his namesake, the “original” Bessarion of the fourth century commemorated in the Apophthegmata Patrum, an Egyptian? This must be at least possible, given that spoils and captives from Acre were taken back to Cairo.40 Whatever his origins, the agency of an Orthodox monk in procuring the manuscript suggests a capacity to negotiate with its owners after the fall of Acre that is easiest to picture either in Egypt or in Jerusalem, where Orthodox monasteries continued to function throughout Mamluk rule. The manuscript, then, travelled east again from Egypt to St. John Prodromos by the Jordan. Since we know that the manuscript did not arrive at Sinai until 1530, the likeliest scenario is that it was in Chariton until around the middle of the thirteenth century, then in Acre until 1291, then taken to St. John through the agency of Bessarion. The monastery of St. John Prodromos, which was built on the bank of the river Jordan east of Jericho during the reign of Emperor Anastasios (491–518) to commemorate the site of Jesus’ baptism, is attested in pilgrimage accounts throughout the early Middle Ages. Although the monastery suffered from occasional raids across the Jordan and from earthquake damage in the twelfth century, it flourished throughout the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, and because of the importance of the site it was visited by Western as well as Orthodox pilgrims.41 It was certainly still inhabited in 1384, though by only a few monks.42 39  Sinai gr 512, fol. 45v; the hand is identified by Weitzmann, Illuminated Manuscripts, p. 73, as thirteenth- or fourteenth-century. 40  Frankish captives from the fall of Acre were visited in Cairo by the Franciscan Angelo da Spoleto in 1303–4, “De fratribus Minoribus visitantibus captivos in Babilonia,” in Biblioteca bio-bibliografica della Terra Santa e dell’ Oriente francescano, ed. Girolamo Golubovich, 5 vols. (Quaracchi, 1906–27), 3:68–72. 41  For an architectural and archaeological description of the monastery, see Pringle, Churches, 2:240–44. Pilgrimage accounts: “Life and Journey of Daniel,” pp. 136–37; Theoderic, “Libellus de locis sanctis,” XXX, in Peregrinationes tres, ed. Robert B. C. Huygens, p. 177; Phokas, Descriptio Terrae Sanctae, PG 133:952; “Wilbrandi de Oldenborg Peregrinatio,” XII, 3, in Peregrinatores, ed. Laurent, p. 189; Anthony of Cremona, “Itinerarium ad Sepulcrum Domini (1327–30),” ed. Reinhold Röhricht, Zeitschrift für deutschen Pälastins-Vereins 13 (1890), pp. 159–60; “Le pelèrinage du moine augustin Jacques de Vérone (1335),” ed. Reinhold Röhricht, ROL 3 (1896), p. 211; Niccolo da Poggibonsi, Libro d’Oltramare, ed. Bellarmino Bagatti (Jerusalem, 1945), pp. 83–84. 42  Visit to the Holy Places of Egypt, Sinai, Palestine and Syria in 1384 by Frescobaldi, Gucci and Sigoli, ed. and trans. Theophilus Bellorini, Eugene Hoade and Bellarmino Bagatti, Pubblicazioni della Studium Biblicum Franciscanum 6 (Jerusalem, 1948), p. 78.

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The original monastery had been abandoned by the 1480s, when Felix Fabri reported that Arabs were using the buildings, though Russian Orthodox pilgrims appear to have continued to visit a church dedicated to the Saviour two miles from the site instead.43 The last of the monks may have settled here in the sixteenth century, but the migration of the manuscript to Sinai surely indicates the final dispersal of the community, probably before the end of the fifteenth century, and probably their relocation to Sinai. Several questions about the menologion and its fate remain unanswered, and are probably unanswerable. We do not know how much of the menologion was in Acre in 1291; whether it was only Sinai gr 512 or the whole of the book that was looted; or indeed whether Bessarion was able to retrieve more than this single volume. One of the other volumes in the original set, Oxford Barocci 230, has two fifteenth-century notes on fol. 289v recording the manuscript as the property of the monastery of the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul at Pane, but this monastery remains unidentified. It may have been in Crete, from where the manuscript was almost certainly acquired by Francesco Barozzi.44 The most likely explanation is that the menologion was dispersed, and the missing volumes lost, during the fall of Acre or its aftermath.

43 

Pringle, Churches, 2:242. The Barocci collection came to England in 1628, having been assembled by the Venetian Francesco Barozzi (1537–1604), who spent most of his life in Crete, and his nephew Iacopo (1562– 1617) in Venice. See now T. W. Allen, “An Ancient Greek Monastery Catalogue,” Journal of Philosophy 19 (1891), pp. 65–68. 44 

Reconstructing the Hospitaller Church of St. John, Acre, with the Help of Gravier d’Ortières’s Drawing of 1685–1687 Vardit Shotten-Hallel Israel Antiquities Authority and the Hebrew University of Jerusalem [email protected] By the end of the eighteenth century, the ruins of the Hospitaller Church of St. John in Acre were filled up to nave level with soil, so as to facilitate the construction of the Ottoman Serai. With some alterations, the builders adhered to the nave’s layout, yet the apse area was blocked by a building constructed to its east. The church has been partly excavated during the past fifty years. In the late 1950s, Zeev Goldmann cleared the undercroft and recorded some of the architectural details. Goldmann identified the main entrance at its western end. He proposed that a double flight of steps led up to the nave, located some 4 metres above the Frankish street level. Over the past six years, Eliezer Stern and Hanaa Abu-Uqsa of the Israel Antiquities Authority undertook three short campaigns, opening three loci at the nave level: one at the eastern end, which encloses the chancel screen area; another in the nave itself, where fragments of the nave columns were found; and the third at the western end, where the inner side of the main entrance and a grey marble doorstep came to light. The length of this marble piece is nearly 3 metres. The location of two of the crusader church windows can still be discerned on the northern and western façades (Fig. 1). Parts of the western façade survived almost to its full height, some 13 metres above current street level, mainly at the north-western corner. Not all of it is crusader masonry; but the entrance area clearly is: large, precisely cut stones appear on both its sides, and remains of what was formerly a cornice that surrounded the entire building’s exterior are still visible. It is also possible to identify the remains of two large pilasters which stood on both sides of the entrance (Fig. 2). I would like to thank Yotam Carmel, Yehudit Zenner, Dan Mirkin, Eliezer Stern, Hanaa Abu-Uqsa, Danny Syon, Adrian Boas, Ivor Ludlam and Yael Shazar for their helpful remarks, and the Israel Antiquities Authority for its financial support.   The palace (Serai) as well as the al-Jazzār mosque, the al-Basha bathhouse and the barracks (Qashla), were public buildings erected or modified by al-Jazzār. An inventory of several buildings constructed under al-Jazzār’s rule was drawn up in 1785 and copied in 1854. The inventory is listed in a document, Waqfiiat-al-Jazzār, dated to 1854, which is a copy of the original text signed in 1785. The inventory, written in Arabic, is preceded by an introduction in Turkish, confirming its authenticity: Al-Jazzār Mosque, Acre, Waqfiiat al-Jazzār, 1854 (1785); photocopy in the library of Haifa University. Hebrew translation by Omry Taufiq, “Waqf al-Jazzār Pashā at Akko” (Unpublished MA thesis, University of Haifa, 1985), and edited for publication in Hebrew by Ariel Hadari.   Zeev Goldmann, Akko in the Time of the Crusades: The Convent of the Order of St. John (Acre, 1994), p. 27.   Hanaa Abu-Uqsa, personal communication, May 2007.

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a: Interior of north-western room. The Ottoman windows are within the original window frames on the northern and the western façades. Photograph: Alla Leitus

b: Exterior corner of northwestern room. The surrounding cornice (below floor level) and the window on the western façade. The window appears on the left side of Fig. 1a. Photograph: Alla Leitus

Fig. 1 The Hospitaller Church of St. John, Acre.



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Fig. 2 The Hospitaller Church of St. John, Acre. Remains of the north-western pilaster (one of two positioned on both sides of the portal) and the surrounding cornice. Photograph: Alla Leitus

Despite these meagre remains, I believe it is possible to arrive at a virtual reconstruction of the Hospitaller church, based on a synthesis of a well-known drawing of Acre from the 1680s with the archaeological finds and with a recent survey plan; some of these finds are interpreted on the basis of resolutions adopted at Hospitaller General Chapters held in Acre. The above-mentioned drawing is preserved in an atlas of charts and plans dating to 1685–87, now kept in the Bibliothèque Nationale de France. The drawing, which presents a panorama of Acre as seen from the sea to its south, gives an accurate representation of the town (Fig. 3). Benjamin Kedar, who was the first to publish the drawing in its entirety, noted that the Church of St. Andrew at its left edge closely resembles its depiction by Corneille Le Bruyn in 1679, and that the mountain peaks east of Acre are realistically drawn.  

(14).

Bibliothèque Nationale de France: Estat des Places: Vue de Saint Jean d’Acre, Rés. Ge. DD226

  Benjamin Z. Kedar, “The Outer Walls of Frankish Acre,” ÝAtiqot 31 (1997), pp. 164–66; repr. in his Franks, Muslims and Oriental Christians in the Latin Levant: Studies in Frontier Acculturation

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a: The complete panorama showing Acre as seen from the sea to its south

b: Section of the panorama showing the remains of the Church of St. Andrew Fig. 3 The Acre panorama, drawn ca. 1685. Image: Vue de Saint Jean d’Acre Photo BnF, Paris, GE. DD226 [14], RES.

In modern literature, the drawing is usually attributed to Gravier d’Ortières, captain of the ship Jason. More recently, Étienne Gravier d’Ortières has been identified as a counsellor to King Louis XIV of France, who headed a mission to the “Échelles” of the Levant. However, back in 1893, the French archivist and historian Henri Omont dealt with d’Ortières’s mission in some detail, on the basis of the journal he had left behind. It transpires that Louis XIV, who sought to conquer the Levant, sent d’Ortières on a secret mission to bring back an accurate account of the ports along the coasts of Syria, Asia Minor and Egypt, and of the fortresses defending them. The mission was carried out under the cover of commerce and trade; its true purpose was concealed even from Pierre de Girardin, the French ambassador to the Porte. Gravier d’Ortières headed a fleet of several ships, (Aldershot, 2006), no. XVII. It may be mentioned that Le Bruyn’s drawing of the courtyard of the Hospitaller compound was not drawn to scale. In Corneille Le Bruyn’s drawing from 1679 the inner court of the Hospitaller compound is shown; see Voyage au Levant: C’est à dire dans les principaux endroits de l’Asie Mineure, dans les iles de Chio, de Rhodes, de Chypre, de même que dans les plus considérables villes d’Egypte, de Syrie, et de la Terre Sainte (Delft, 1700), plate 165.   Emmanuel-Guillaume Rey, “Supplément à l’étude sur la topographie de la ville d’Acre au XIIIe siècle,” Mémoires de la Société Nationale des Antiquaires de France 49 (1888), p. 2, n. 1. A reproduction of the drawing by Ch. Toussaint appears in the same volume, plate 1.   See Kedar, “Addenda et corrigenda,” Franks, Muslims and Oriental Christians, p. 4.



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commanded by several captains, and was aided by engineers and other officers. The marine engineer Plantier was assigned the task of documenting sites such as the Dardanelles, Famagusta, Sidon and Tyre. He was ordered to produce charts and plans of the above-mentioned ports, as well as of many others. It is therefore reasonable to assume that Plantier was also responsible for creating the panorama depicting Acre. It seems that he produced the entire drawing while aboard ship. A close examination of his drawing reveals no indication of the use of outlines or grid squares; he most probably used the ship’s location as his reference point. The original drawing is 12 cm high × 156 cm wide. A copy of it was scanned into drawing software (AutoCAD) and interpreted into a line drawing, the relevant part of which was then compared with recent survey drawings, plans and sections of the Church of St. John and the Hospitaller compound (Fig. 4). The dimensions of the palais and the Eglise St. Jean were compared to measurements taken in the church’s nave and undercroft. Subsequently, the line drawing was scaled in accordance with the proportions of the remains of the church’s undercroft. It became apparent that the scale of the drawing is identical to the current measurements: the palais is a mere 2–3 cm shorter in length than its present-day plan. Therefore, it can be said that the drawing is more than an artistic impression or a mere sketch: it may be regarded as the equivalent of a photographed panorama, with some threedimensional qualities. The Eglise Saint André is depicted at the western end of the Acre panorama (Fig. 3b). In the foreground, two vessels are moored in what appears to be a natural bay. In the background between the church and the vessels a ruined structure may be discerned. The ground floors of both buildings, the church and the ruined structure, are hidden by the terrain. By locating this structure on a map of the Frankish city, the building may be identified with a four-storey building that overlooked the intersection of three quarters: the Templar quarter from the west, the Pisan quarter from the south and the Genoese quarter from the north-east. The building was previously identified as a Templar fortified gate. A recent survey of this building has revealed remains of crusader masonry in at least four storeys, from a previously covered street running parallel to its western façade, and details in the upper vaults. In the drawing, the next Frankish structures are marked as palais du grand maître   Henri Omont, “Projets de prise de Constantinople et de fondation d’un empire français d’Orient sous Louis XIV,” Revue d’histoire diplomatique 7 (1893), pp. 196–97. See more recently: Faruk Bilici, Louis XIV et son projet de conquête d’Istanbul (Ankara, 2004). The memoirs of Ambassador de Girardin are preserved in BnF, MS fr. 7162–7175. One of these volumes contains Gravier d’Ortières’s journal. The journal appears in BnF, MS fr. 7174, pp. 135–297, and in Munich, Staatsbibliothek, Cod. Gall. 626 and 627.   See David Jacoby, “Crusader Acre in the Thirteenth Century: Urban Layout and Topography,” Studi Medievali, 3rd series 20 (1979), pp. 5–6 and fig. 4. The building was previously identified as the defended gate of the Templar quarter by Alex Kesten, Acre, The Old City: Survey and Planning (Jerusalem, 1962), pp. 19–21. Although Kesten identified the building with the tower in Marino Sanudo’s map, it is not clear from the map itself. There, the tower is located in the north-western corner of the Pisan quarter. There is no evidence that this impressive building was a Templar tower.

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a: Section of the Acre panorama showing the remains of the Palace of the Grand Master and the Church of St. John

b: Line representation of the area of the palace and the Church of St. John

c: Plan of the undercroft

d:

Plan of the nave level 1 – the principle entrance 2 – the nave 3 – the chancel screen area 4 – proposed reconstruction of the apse area

Fig. 4 The Hospitaller Church of St. John, Acre. Image: Vue de Saint Jean d’Acre, Photo BnF, Paris, GE. DD226 [14], RES. Plans and reconstruction: Alon Lotan, author



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and Eglise St. Jean (the palace of the Grand Master and the Church of St. John, respectively). In the foreground, to the left of the palace, a vessel is moored close to the shore. This appears to be a French galley, probably belonging to d’Ortières’s fleet.10 The next large structure is a tower standing directly on the shore: in 1888, Emmanuel-Guillaume Rey proposed to identify it as the Tower of St. Catherine, which guarded the Frankish Harbor of the Chain; more recently, Kedar remarked on its similarity to the (possibly Venetian) fortified tower known today as Burj alSultan. Acre’s ancient tell, known to the Franks as Le Touron, is prominent near the panorama’s eastern end. Looking from left to right (from west to east), we note that the left corner of the palais is drawn schematically. The first notable structure is a projected segment of the building, possibly related to the south-western tower, which does not exist today: a solid, rectangular structure, measuring 10.5 m in width,11 with only one narrow window on its southern façade, measuring 1.3 m wide × 5.5 m high. The south-western tower rises 1.2 m above the main structure. To its right, we find a building with the ruins of a tiled roof, comprising a solid rectangular structure with two sets of four windows each, situated one on top of the other. The upper set of windows is smaller than the lower set. In the upper set of windows, only the western one appears to be slightly arched. In the lower set, the two middle windows seem to be arched, while the left and right ones appear to be rectangular in form. The first top window, from west to east, is 0.6 m wide × 2.15 m high at the window post, and 2.4 m high at the arch. The second one is 0.7 m × 1.8 m at its western post and 2 m high at the eastern one; the third is 0.9 m × 1.65–1.95 m; and the last, rectangular window on the right side is 0.95 m × 2.25 m. The lower set of windows positioned below the upper set: the lower eastern window is 0.95 m wide × 2.6 m at its western post and 2.8 m high at the eastern post. The second, arched window is 1.25 m × 2.1 m at the window post and 2.75 m high at the arch. The third is an arched window measuring 1 m × 2.75 m at the post and 3.2 m high at the arch; and the window on the right is 1 m × 2.6 m. The analysis allows establishing, for each of the arched and rectangular windows, the width and height of the window post and its height at the arch. Below the windows, at the right end, three arches are illustrated. Their nature is unclear, but they may represent blind arches. The eastern façade is depicted in a perspective view from where the southern façade ends. No windows are depicted on this façade. The purpose of the first stage in this analysis of the depiction of the Church of St. John in the seventeenth-century drawing was to clarify which of its elements belong to the church and which do not. The mid-upper part is a ruined structure, 10  In the seventeenth century the French fleet in the Mediterranean included galleys and galleasses. The vessel depicted in the panorama is shown with sails folded and 20 oars in the water. Although bearing no flag, it was very likely French. See Björn Landström, The Ship: An Illustrated History (New York, 1961), illustrations 339–46. 11  All measurements in respect to the original drawing as redrawn in fig. 4. The scale was calculated according to the outlines of the church. All dimensions are indicated at a precision of 2 decimal points.

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apparently the remains of the clerestory, or simply the roof. On both sides of this structure are remains of three vertical elements: one to its west and two to its east. Most surviving examples of Frankish masonry show a continuity of pillars and columns. The latter, when positioned on different levels, are usually built one on top of the other. Therefore, the two vertical elements recorded at the eastern end do seem to follow the gridlines of the nave columns. However, the eastern element recorded in the drawing should not be regarded as a column, since it does not rise from the one positioned at the nave level. It seems that either this element was not part of the structure, or that it may have formed the remains of a flying buttress.12 Below the ruined structure, five arches are shown, while the sixth is half-ruined. The drawing is in fact a longitudinal section running from east to west. This section is drawn through the northern aisle, and we may conclude that the southern aisle did not survive to be recorded here; neither did the nave. We are therefore looking at the northern aisle of the Church of St. John and the inner side of the northern façade. In a strange way, it may be fortunate that the section does not run through the nave, and that the sixth arch is ruined. It allows us to see the north-eastern aisle and, more importantly, the apse. The recent excavations were limited to the chancel screen area, since a building has been built where the apse was located. Nevertheless, the drawing shows the end of the external wall at the eastern side, which seems to curve toward the south; it is depicted as a perspective view, in order to show the third dimension as well. This curved wall is positioned at the north-eastern corner of the church and constitutes a segment of one of the three apses, indicating that the church was built on the basis of a three-apsidal plan, which is very common in Frankish churches. A deep shade falls on the western side of each of the bays. Judging by the shade in each of the five complete arches, it seems that the window bay was quite deep. Furthermore, an opening can be identified at the far end of each of these bays: these are evidently the openings for the windows. To the left of the first arch on the western side of the church, a small part of the western wall is depicted, with an opening where a window may have been situated. Contemporary observation of the western façade of the Serai building reveals a large window in a similar position (Fig. 2). A closer look at the windows reveals their inner profile: a long narrow window, the lower part of which is below sight level, but leaving the upper part visible. The outline of the window is a trefoil tracery window, a familiar feature of Gothic architecture.13 As for the type of tracery recorded – whether plate tracery or geometrical (bar) tracery – there are two issues to keep in mind. First, that the church as shown in the illustration is partially ruined; therefore the windows may have been damaged. Second, that the engineer may have observed or distinguished this 12  The only indication of flying buttresses is found on a wall parallel to the southern façade. Some 2 metres parallel to this façade three stones are positioned. These are perhaps the base for flying buttresses. 13  The windows were previously noted by Adrian J. Boas, Archaeology of the Military Orders (London, 2006), p. 56.



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intricate detail; but due to the limited area available for the building in the drawing, preferred to exclude it.14 This explanation is further supported by comparing the depiction of the Church of St. Andrew and its windows. However, plate tracery is the earliest form of what came to be known as geometrical (bar) tracery from the middle of the thirteenth century.15 It has been suggested that one of the differences between Frankish and French masonry is evident in the type of construction: in French Gothic architecture, the tracery is often integral to the design and the structure of the building.16 If that were true of Frankish masonry, Plantier would not have been able to see the windows’ outline once the church was in ruins. The drawing may support this argument, as it shows the trefoil shape cutting through the wall. However, judging by the general condition of the church building, the absence of the mullions may be explained by their probable destruction or removal; hence, only the trefoil silhouette of the window has remained, while the original, slender pieces of the curved stones are gone.17 The archaeological finds from the north-eastern corner support this conclusion, as they include a fragment of the inner tracery (Fig. 5), allowing a possible reconstruction of the entire top part of the window.18 The five windows were not drawn on one plane: the western window is lower than the adjacent two windows, which, in turn, are lower than the eastern pair of windows. The reason for the change in levels may be not the result of an error, but perhaps dictated by site topography. In any case, the remains of the northern façade do not extend up to the plane of the windows, and therefore cannot contribute to an explanation regarding the difference in levels. Further light may be shed on the matter by a comparison of the archaeological finds with some of the Hospitaller statutes. Aspects of monastic life are broadly discussed in the Rule, Statutes and Customs of the Hospitallers; however, there are only a few references to the built environment. In the Chapter General held in Acre at the end of September 1263, there is a reference to the church: 4. What light the prior should have in the church – Item, it is decreed that at double festivals the prior of the Church of Acre should have six candles burning on the altar at all the Hours, and at other festivals and on Sundays four candles, and at the festivals of nine

14 

Note that two similar windows appear at the top level of the Church of St. Andrew. E. C. Phillips, “Some Applications of Mathematics to Architecture: Gothic Tracery Curves,” The American Mathematical Monthly 33 (1926), pp. 361–68. 16  Robert Ousterhout, “The French Connection? Construction of Vaults and Cultural Identity in Crusader Architecture,” in France and the Holy Land: Frankish Culture at the End of the Crusades, ed. Daniel H. Weiss and Lisa Mahoney (Baltimore, 2004), pp. 77–81. 17  Remains of glass were found extensively in the excavations. These may be remains of the glass from the windows. Hanaa Abu-Uqsa, personal communication, January 2008. 18  Serai excavations: 10 December 2003, Locus 38016, Basket 380187. 15 

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Fig. 5 Right: Fragment of a window found during excavations. Left: Proposed reconstruction of a window frame outline. Reconstruction: Alon Lotan, author. Photograph: author



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lections two candles, and on ordinary days (ferial) one candle, and before the altar of Our Lady and before the altar of St. Blaise let him have candles burning at all the Hours.19

This statute indicates that there were three altars in the church, most likely corresponding to the number of apses. Another reference sustained by recent archaeological finds is one that mentions a baptismal font in the narthex: 124. How and when the brethren should make genuflexions … Firstly, when the brethren enter into the church, they should make the sign of the cross on their heart, and take of the holy water, and kneel down in their places, and say [at least] one Paternoster.20

The order of actions is specified: first, enter the church, presumably from the principal entrance; thereafter, make the sign of the cross, and subsequently, take the holy water, most likely at the baptismal font, which, in many churches, was positioned in the entrance area. The south-western room of the church is similar in size to the north-western one. However, in the floor at the centre of this room there are discernible remains of a round mould, which may have served as a pedestal of the baptismal font. As for the entrance to the church, the following hypothesis may be proposed: a Gothic portal (Fig. 6), presently located in a mausoleum in Cairo, was reported several times in modern literature as taken from Acre by Amir ÞAlam al-Dīn Sanjar al-Shugai, who had been ordered by al-Malik al-Ashraf Khalīl to demolish Acre’s city walls and churches in 1291.21 The portal leads to a passage separating the mausoleum from the madrasa of al-Nasir Muhammad b. Qālawūn.22 According to an uncorroborated citation, the white marble portal was taken from the Church of St. George in Acre;23 while another citation suggested it was from the Cathedral of St. John in Acre.24 Neither writer provided references. Here, it is suggested that this portal was taken from the Church of St. John; the size of the portal seems proportional to the doorstep found in Acre. Furthermore, the two doorposts of the portal in Cairo are positioned on bases that are clearly not the original ones. 19  Cart Hosp, 3:76, no. 3075; trans. E. J. King, The Rule, Statutes and Customs of the Hospitallers,1099–1310 (London, 1934; repr. London, 1980), p. 67. 20  Cart Hosp, 2:558, no. 2213; trans. King, Rule, Statutes and Customs, p. 196. 21  Denys Pringle, “The Churches of Crusader Acre: Destruction and Detection,” in Archaeology and the Crusades: Proceedings of the Round Table, Nicosia, 1 February 2005, ed. Peter Edbury and Sophia Kalopissi-Verti (Athens, 2007), pp. 111–32. I am grateful to Shukry ÞAraf for his help with the transcription of names. 22  For the plan of the portal see Keppel Archibald Cameron Creswell, The Muslim Architecture of Egypt (New York, 1978), vol. 2, fig. 137, between pp. 238–39; Michael Meinecke, Die mamlukische Architektur in Ägypten und Syrien (Glückstadt, 1992), vol. 1, fig. 17, p. 49. For the plan of the madrasa of al-Nasir Muhammad b. Qālawūn, see Creswell, between pp. 238–39; Meinecke, fig. 15, p. 45. 23  Jim Antoniou, Historic Cairo: A Walk through the Islamic City (Cairo, 1999), p. 60. 24  Alexandre Papadopoulos, Islam and Muslim Art, trans. Robert E. Wolf (New York, 1979), p. 498.

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Fig. 6 The Gothic Portal in Cairo. Photograph: Sariel Shalev



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Fig. 7 Plans of the entrance to the Church of St. John and the portal in Cairo juxtaposed to show the resemblance between the two. In black outline: plan of the principal entrance of the Church of St. John in Acre In shaded grey: plan of the portal in Cairo (after Creswell, The Muslim Architecture of Egypt, fig. 137)

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The doorstep was most probably considered too monolithic and plain to be worth transporting to Egypt, where a local substitute could easily be found. The columns on both sides are placed upon layers of stones and seem incompatible with their mould. The dimensions and the plan in general, when superimposed, show a high level of similarity (Fig. 7). The opening in the Church of St. John in Acre is 2.7 m wide, leaving some 35 cm on each side of the opening for inner doorposts, as they appear in Cairo. The Gothic portal replicates the trefoil opening of the windows. Although this was a common form of architectural expression for a structure of religious function, the similarity between the portal in Cairo and the trefoil openings as depicted by Plantier is striking. The highly accurate correlation between the remaining architectural elements of the Hospitaller compound and its representation in d’Ortières’s panorama of Acre indicates that the drawing accurately documents the appearance of seventeenthcentury Acre. This being so, the panorama may be used as evidence of the existence of several major Frankish buildings at that time. Although many of these buildings are in various stages of ruin, the fact that they appear at all in the panorama proves that Frankish Acre was not entirely demolished in 1291. Indeed, at the end of the seventeenth century, when this panorama was drawn, many of the central buildings of the crusader kingdom, such as churches and towers, were still standing tall for all to see.

REVIEWS Giles Constable, Crusaders and Crusading in the Twelfth Century. Farnham and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2008. Pp. xi, 375. ISBN 978 0 7546 6523 6. Giles Constable, professor emeritus of medieval history at the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton, is widely known as a distinguished historian of medieval monasticism and religious thought, thanks to his twenty-some books and roughly a hundred articles devoted to these matters. He has in addition, however, maintained an enduring interest in crusading history, starting with his classic study of “The Second Crusade as seen by Contemporaries,” which appeared in Traditio in 1952, an extraordinarily remarkable article for a young scholar who was, I believe, only 23 years old when it first appeared. The present book, his first devoted to the crusades, brings together revised (often heavily revised) versions of eleven of his published articles on crusading themes, together with two further articles that have not hitherto appeared in print. The volume opens with a lengthy and instructive chapter on “The Historiography of the Crusades.” This in fact joins together three earlier papers: one was published in the proceedings of a Dumbarton Oaks symposium in 2001, and the second appeared in a Denkschrift in memory of Yuri Bessmartny published in Moscow in 2003, while the third originated as a paper (previously unpublished) presented at an international congress in Teruel in 2001. Chapter 2, on “The Cross of the Crusaders,” is a revised version of a 1999 study of the evidence about the origins of the cross that symbolized the crusader’s status and the forms that it took (including illustrations). Constable originally presented this at a conference in Jerusalem, but it now appears in print for the first time. The following chapter on “Medieval Charters as a Source for the History of the Crusades,” was first published in Crusade and Settlement (Cardiff, 1985), while chapter 4, “The Financing of the Crusades,” was first published in Outremer, the collection of papers in honor of Joshua Prawer (Jerusalem, 1982). Chapter 5, “The Place of the Crusader in Medieval Society,” originally appeared in Viator in 1998, and Chapter 6, “The Military Orders,” also came out in Viator in the following year. Constable originally presented Chapter 7, “Cluny and the First Crusade,” at a conference held at Clermont in 1995 to mark the 900th anniversary of the proclamation of the first crusade and was published two years later by the École française de Rome in the conference proceedings. Chapter 8, “Early Crusading in Eastern Germany: The Magdeburg Charter of 1107/8,” originated as a chapter in a Festschrift for Kaspar Elm (Berlin, 1999), to which Constable has added a translation of the relevant document. The following chapter, “The Three Lives of Odo Arpinus: Viscount of Bourges, Crusader, Monk of Cluny,” was first published in another Festschrift, this one in honor of J. N. Hillgarth (Toronto, 2002), while Chapter 10 presents a lightly updated version of his “Second Crusade as Seen by

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Contemporaries,” mentioned above. Chapter 11, “Two Notes on the Anglo-Flemish Crusaders of 1147–8,” combines two shorter articles, one from the first volume of The Experience of Crusading, edited by Marcus Bull (Cambridge, 2003), the other from Speculum (1953). The following chapter, “The Crusading Project of 1150,” first appeared in Montjoie, a Festschrift honoring Hans Eberhard Mayer (Aldershot, 1997). The final chapter, on “The Fourth Crusade,” originated as a paper at the 2004 International Medieval Congress in Leeds and now appears in print for the first time. The book closes with two appendices, the first on “The Terminology of Crusading,” while the other deals with “The Numbering of the Crusades.” This uncommonly rich and rewarding collection – which indeed it should be, given its price – is far and away superior to the great majority of collections of previously-published scholarly papers. The editing is so thorough and meticulous that the versions presented here leave the original articles seriously outdated. Hence future references should whenever possible be made to the revised versions in this book. The breadth and quality of Constable’s crusading scholarship collected here is extraordinarily impressive, all the more so because crusading history represents a secondary, although long-maintained, research field for its author. James A. Brundage University of Kansas (Emeritus) Robert Heś, Joannici na Śląsku w średniowieczu [The Hospitallers in Silesia in the Middle Ages] Kraków: Avalon, 2007. Pp. 556. ISBN: 978 83 60448 21 2. Robert Heś has written a far-reaching study about the Hospitallers and their activities in Silesia based on his doctoral thesis. Earlier attempts to tackle the subject of the foundation and growth of the Hospitaller commanderies in Silesia concentrated on some Silesian commanderies (for example, A. Ritschny and F. Haeussler), whilst the works by P. Czerwiński (1962) and B. Szczęśniak (1969), although still being referred to in English language publications, are now outdated and unreliable. More recent work by K. Dola (1973) concluded the analysis of the Hospitaller activities in Silesia before 1350, although K. Borchardt (1998) presented a broad outline of the history of the Hospitallers in Silesia. The pioneering monograph on the military orders in Poland by M. Starnawska (1999) brought to light the distinct forms of adaptation of the Hospitaller brethren in Silesia. This monograph by R. Heś is nonetheless the first publication which comprehensively deals with the history of the Hospitaller commanderies in Silesia before the middle of the sixteenth century. Sources documenting the history of the Order of Saint John in Silesia are extensive and rich yet at the same time dispersed and varied. The largest collection of sources concerning the Silesian commanderies of the Hospitallers are located at the Czech State Archives in Prague (original charters and cartularies, mainly from the twelfth to sixteenth centuries with some seventeenth-century documents), the State Archives in Wrocław (documents mainly



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from the fourteenth to sixteenth centuries do not form part of a single collection but are dispersed throughout various collections concerning the affairs of Silesian duchies, cities and monasteries), and the Archives of the Archdiocese of Wrocław contain other materials. Significantly, the Library of the University of Wrocław includes a significant portion of the items from the collection of the Library of the Commandery of Corpus Christi in Wrocław. The author uses these sources well. Previous authors highlighted the fact that, amongst the military orders which established their commanderies in Silesia in the Middle Ages, the Hospitallers were the most successful in attracting benefices for the foundation of their commanderies. The author decided to investigate the origins of the Knights Hospitallers who settled there and examine extant sources to obtain the details of the estates granted to the order as well as reconstruct the structures of the individual commanderies. He aimed to present the activities and the life of the knights in Silesia and their role in propagating the ideals of the Order of Saint John in local communities. Heś decided to research the sources pertinent to the fourteen commanderies of the Hospitallers which were established in Silesia in the Middle Ages before the 1530s. The book covers the following commanderies: from the Diocese of Wrocław – Tyniec, Strzegom, Maków, Piława, Łosiów/Zawadno, Złotoryja, Głubczyce, Brzeg, Cieplice/Lwówek Śląski, Solec, Oleśnica Mała, Wrocław, Dzierżoniów, Koźle; from the Diocese of Prague – Kłodzko, Grobniki; and from the Diocese of Olomuc – Grobniki. The book is divided into four parts, which in turn are divided into chapters. In the first part, the author outlines the history of the order in the Levant and the first settlement of the Hospittallers into Silesia, the development of the commanderies and establishment of the Hospitaller estates. In the second part, Heś addresses the economic position of the Silesian commanderies by examining the endowments, forms of economic activity engaged in by the knights, and grants of immunity from the local rulers. The third part discusses the composition of individual commanderies, the personalities of the knights in Silesia and (what Heś pays particular attention to) the origin of the knights who settled there, their number in each commandery, their powers, hierarchy of authority and relationships between the chaplains of the order and the brethren. These three parts allow Heś to build a picture of the activities of the order in Silesia on a wider canvas. In the fourth part, the author examines participation of the Hospitallers in the religious observance of the local population and the operation of hospitals and hospices and general support for crusading, engagement with the local community, as well as the contribution of the order to the cultural development of Silesia in the form of art. The appendix details the lists of knights in each of the commanderies. The oldest of the Silesian houses was the commandery in Tyniec where the Hospitallers settled in 1187, although it is probable that the commandery was actually founded earlier. At about the same time the Hospitallers established a commandery in Grobniki (1180s) and in Kłodzko (about 1186) the order received patronage over the local church. The next commandery was founded in about 1203

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in Strzegom, and soon the Knights received an estate in Maków (1217–18). Initially, the founders of the Silesian commanderies were local magnates often assisted by the bishops of Wrocław. This Silesian model differed from practice in Bohemia where the Hospitaller foundations were established by the Czech dynasts. Heś’s conclusions are cautious and methodical. He does not propose any ground breaking hypotheses. Yet, the nature of his analysis provides an extremely valuable picture of the local engagement of the Hospitallers. Heś highlights the high proportion of the chaplains among the Hospitaller brethren in Silesia, possibly reflecting the high rate of patronage of the order over local parish churches. Heś argues that the provenance of the Hospitallers in Silesia, being initially mostly Czech, was local Slavic Silesian by 1250, with an increasing number of brethren recruited from German settlers brought to Silesia. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the knights were recruited from the local knighthood, although in the fifteenth century the brethren’s origins were more humble; a number of sons of burghers and merchants joined the ranks of the order, probably as a means of achieving a higher social status. However, the Silesian commanderies, according to Heś, had failed to fulfil their mission of providing hospital care. Out of fourteen commanderies only three commanderies maintained a hospital (Głubczyce, Koźle and Wrocław). The Reformation ended the existence of a number of commanderies and convents, in particular those in the cities. The commanderies that survived the religious upheavals adapted their activities and community engagement in various ways, notably by placing greater effort on ministering the faith to the community. Their existence was ended with the dissolution of monasteries in 1810. It is difficult to criticize this publication by an early career researcher. I feel, though, that its introductory parts (which outline the history of the Order of Saint John) should have been based on more recent and a more accessible secondary literature; there is a notable absence of any works by Jonathan Riley-Smith, Hans E. Mayer, Helen Nicholson and Norman Housley. A summary in English would have added a useful digest for readers other than those able to read Polish. Overall, Heś has presented a valuable addition to our knowledge of the activities of the Knights Hospitaller in Silesia. Darius von Güttner-Sporzyński The University of Melbourne Natasha R. Hodgson, Women, Crusading and the Holy Land in Historical Narrative (Warfare in History). Woodbridge and Rochester, NY: The Boydell Press, 2007. Pp. xviii, 284. ISBN 978 1 84383 332 1. This is the latest addition to what has become a flourishing area of crusades studies. Less than a decade ago, gender history of the crusades was virtually nonexistent, now several full-length studies have appeared in recent years. Whereas the earlier books by Geldsetzer and Dernbecher (reviewed in Crusades 5 [2006])



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tried to offer a comprehensive treatment of the topic for the twelfth- and thirteenthcentury crusades to the Levant, with all the benefits and pitfalls such general studies engender, Natasha Hodgson has opted to narrow down her focus. Although she sticks to the traditional chronological framework of 1095–1291 and also restricts her study to the Holy Land crusades, Hodgson has exclusively chosen to research historical narratives connected with these crusade ventures. This approach has the great advantage that the methodological questions of source interpretation, so often neglected elsewhere, are moved centre-stage here and become an integral part of the study. This is also where the strength of Hodgson’s book lies. In the first part the author presents the literary context of the narrative accounts, explaining how the topic of women on crusade fitted into an intricate matrix of maleness: male authors writing primarily, if not exclusively, for male audiences about an activity – crusading – which in contemporary society was perceived first and foremost as a male pursuit, following patterns of male chivalry and knightly devotion. In addition to these underlying gendered conditions in which crusade narratives originated, their purpose was usually connected to expounding the virtues, or the lack thereof, which led to the success and failure of crusade expeditions. More often than not this was geared towards portraying men on crusade and their leaders’ decisions. In the latter part of the period studied here crusade narratives were also strongly influenced by chivalric literature that tended to bring into the game its own set of values and its particular arsenal of topoi, which again were primarily taken from the sphere of men. It is not surprising, therefore, that women did not have a place of their own in this literary world. This does not mean that there is no talk of women, of course, but it means that interpreting the passages in which women are mentioned requires care and circumspection, which is what Hodgson brings to Part II of the book. The second part is organized by “life-cycle stages” in which the treatment of women as daughters, wives, mothers and widows are investigated separately. Hodgson does an admirable job teasing out from the few passages found in crusade narratives how women at different stages of the life-cycle were portrayed as part of the crusade movement and how this could differ from the perception of women in other contexts. What this kind of analysis requires is an awareness of the stereotypes within which these texts are lodged and which the authors employ. Hodgson has a fine eye for gauging the use of stereotyped discourse, using it as a way into examining representations of female realities that were not only determined by the category of gender but also by social status and the nature and degree of women’s engagement with the crusades. This leads towards a better understanding of why women’s roles within the crusade movement were at times viewed controversially, either as supporters or inhibitors of crusading enthusiasm, as corrupting or encouraging elements within crusade armies. Hodgson’s great achievement is to explain the appearance or absence of women and the varying roles and judgements attached to them by the authors of crusade narratives, not only in terms of the historical context of crusading but also as a consequence of the rules and conventions of literary production. Hodgson has not come up with startling new evidence or with

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surprising reinterpretation of known female crusaders. What we learn from her study is how to read and better understand why medieval authors portrayed women on crusade the way they did and to be more careful about generalizing about the roles of women on crusade on the basis of the selective and highly biased evidence from narrative sources. This is a learned book and a fine testimony to its author’s firm grasp on her subject. There are, however, one or two points of criticism worth considering. To my mind Hodgson does not distinguish clearly enough between crusading, i.e. women involved with crusading armies, and the colonial establishment of the socalled crusader states, where high-ranking women often functioned as political figures. The two areas are often, and perhaps too lightly, subsumed as integral parts of one crusade movement. As a matter of fact, they were quite different. Crusade campaigns were temporary activities which took people away from the stability and routine of their day-to-day lives and were governed by the rules and conventions of pilgrimage and large-scale military campaigns. In contrast, life in the crusader states, despite the peripheral and at times precarious conditions, represented a kind of courant normal and had probably little to do with the special conditions of a crusade army on campaign. This is not to deny that there were connections between the activity of crusading and life in the crusader states. But one might have expected a more thorough discussion of why the female experience in crusading armies, or the representation thereof, should be comparable to that of the colonial existence in the crusader states. Secondly, Hodgson’s thematic treatment comes with a tendency to neglect the elements of change within the period she studies. After all, the crusade movement of the twelfth century differs greatly from that of the thirteenth. Whereas Hodgson has a fair amount to say about how changes of literary traditions affected her topic in the thirteenth century, she makes less of an effort to incorporate the reflections within narratives of far-reaching changes to the crusade movement, such as the proliferation of ways of participating in the crusade movement on the home front, or the fact that the general focus of the movement changed once crusading was no longer exclusively directed towards the Holy Land. There also are a few unfortunate errors, probably due to sloppy editing, such as erroneous cross references in the footnotes (e.g. p. 9, note 5) and inconsistencies in the arrangement of the bibliography. Notwithstanding these last comments, this book makes a valuable contribution to the burgeoning studies of women and the crusades, and is recommended for its careful methodological approach and its thorough scholarship. Christoph T. Maier Universität Zürich



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Richard W. Kaeuper, Holy Warriors: The Religious Ideology of Chivalry. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2009. Pp. xi, 331. ISBN 978 0 8122 4167 9. Although the main purpose of this book is clear from the sub-title, it goes well beyond that goal. To a considerable extent it is an exploration of the ambivalence that has haunted Christianity from its earliest age regarding the place of violence in a religion whose founder was, above all, the prince of peace. Not even the distinction between just and unjust wars has settled the matter. Nor does Richard Kaeuper even try to resolve the issue. Instead, he presents a straightforward account of the way in which members of the knightly class dealt with the issue, while making clear that many clergy suffered qualms of various sorts. This is, therefore, a book about knighthood from the perspective of the knights. Following a lengthy first chapter, it opens with two major accounts, that of Henry of Lancaster and that of Geoffroi de Charny as protagonists of the view that knighthood is holy service. What emerges quickly is that these authors, both of whom wrote in the fourteenth century against the backdrop of the Hundred Years War, do not try to limit the redemptive qualities of war to the crusade or even wars in defense of the church. They are defenders of the military life. Interestingly, Professor Kaeuper does not try to relate their approach to the Hundred Years’ War. In fact, he follows their lead through the world of tourneys and even private wars. Clearly these were men who believed in knighthood in a broad sense and, while strong in their commitment to religion, did not reflect the reservations that inhibited many of the clergy of the time. One of the most interesting chapters in the book is that devoted to “Independence in knightly piety.” The key word is independence. There is no need here to rehearse the numerous examples provided by the author. Perhaps Jean Flori summed it up best when he spoke of “a knighthood more aristocratic and laic than the clergy would have wished.” Yet Kaeuper is careful to show the way in which religion formed a support for the knightly way of life. He shows how the concept of knightly work was sanctified and how the idea of penance was adapted to the needs of the knightly class. Finally, he sketches the way in which knightly service, religiously supported, entered the service of the king. Of course, this step was not a dramatic change so much as the evolution of trends that were already well established. There is another sub-text in this volume. It is of special concern to historians of the crusades. Kaeuper makes it clear that the crusade was not regarded by the knightly class as essentially different from other forms of warfare. Here he does not so much follow Jean Flori and other crusade historians who stress the secular outlook of crusaders as he provides a broader context against which we can explore the depth and meaning of such attitudes. When we write about the Fourth Crusade, for example, we might do well to find the views of Enrico Dandalo and the Venetians more in tune with other crusaders than has been the usual case. We might re-read the letters addressed by the crusaders to Pope Innocent III in light of the way they

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saw themselves. Perhaps we need to give more thought to the divisions that existed among the crusaders. Moreover, members of the clergy themselves are cast in a different light in these circumstances. They too were divided and have remained divided on the issue of warfare down to our own times. Those who yearn for a return of the age of faith might do well to consider what it was really like. There is no question that religion played an important motivating role in the crusades, but we should not ignore its limitations. Richard Kaeuper has produced a very readable book, one that deserves serious consideration by all medievalists, but which has a special value for historians of the crusade in light of the current directions of research in the field. James M. Powell Syracuse University (Emeritus) Anthony Luttrell and Elizabeth A. Zachariadou, Sources for Turkish History in the Hospitallers’ Rhodian Archive 1389–1422 (National Hellenic Research Foundation. Institute for Byzantine Research. Sources, 14). Athens: National Hellenic Research Foundation, 2008. Pp. 176. ISBN 978 960 371 051 6. We know much more about the western settlements in the late medieval eastern Mediterrranean region than we did fifty years ago. A very significant contribution to this transformation in understanding has been made by Anthony Luttrell in around 250 monographs and articles, centred above all on the Hospitallers’ order-state in the Dodecanese. For a long time Luttrell must have felt rather lonely, researching a field of study almost on his own, but in recent years he has been joined by other scholars, notably Jürgen Sarnowsky and Nicolas Vatin. At the same time, historians like Pierre Bonneaud, Anne-Marie Legras, Gregory O’Malley, Carlos de Ayala Martinez and the school of Portuguese scholars led by Luís Adāo da Fonseca are concentrating on the European priories and commanderies. It would be hard to exaggerate the importance of the work going on. Late medieval Rhodes, in particular, was an important player in the eastern Mediterranean region. It was the focus of crusade aspirations throughout western Europe, where it was a major landowner and from which it drew its professed manpower. The vast sums spent by the Hospitallers on their fleet, on the defensive obligations they assumed at Smyrna and in mainland Greeece and on the technologically advanced and expensive fortifications they erected in the Dodecanese are testimony to the support provided not only by their European estates but by the Catholic public. But the support was not unconditional. The order was under pressure not only from the Muslims, but also from critics in Europe, not least the papacy. Nevertheless, Hospitaller Rhodes has the appearance of an active, successful and advanced experiment in government. It and Prussia, ruled by the Teutonic Order, were examples of a remarkable development in state-building, the creation of a form of aggressive theocratic polity that was to have a history that extended to



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the end of the eighteenth century. General medieval historians are becoming more conscious of the importance of the order-states and one can look forward to publications comparing Rhodes with Prussia and perhaps with other theocracies such as the papal states in Italy and on the east bank of the Rhône. The main difficulty researchers have always found with the period under discussion is the availability of the source material. Whereas most of the documents for the Latin settlements in the twelfth- and thirteenth-century Levant are available in print, very few of the Rhodian ones have so far been published. There is no shortage of them. The amount of material scattered throughout Europe is daunting. The sources on Malta are particularly valuable. Although most of the archives on Rhodes must have been lost in the surrender of the island to the Turks in 1522, the Hospitallers were able to carry 115 registers with them, almost all of which are now to be found on Malta. The most significant are the 94 surviving registers, known as the Libri Bullarum, that run from 1346 to 1522, although the years from 1346 to 1381 are incompletely covered. This material is important not only with respect to Rhodes itself, but also to the Morea and to the relationship between the Hospitaller Convent on the island and the West. No one knows this better than Dr Luttrell and in recent years he has set out to publish or at least calendar as many of the documentary sources for Rhodes and Latin Greece as possible. In this he was assisted by Julian Chrysostomides, whose recent death is a tragedy for the history of Latin Greece. The rise of the the tiny Ottoman principality and its domination of neighbouring ghazi and coastal emirates in Asia Minor is still mysterious. The course of events on the mainland is poorly documented, which makes the Hospitaller material all the more important. In this volume Anthony Luttrell and Elizabeth Zachariadou concentrate on sources illustrative of Turkish history from 1389 to 1402. Luttrell has already discussed the material before 1389 and Sarnowsky has published and discussed documents from 1344 to 1402, which, with a few exceptions, are not reproduced here. After a masterly introduction on the source material, Luttrell and Zachariadou provide a detailed account of relations between the Hospitallers and the Turks in the period in question. This is followed by a register of 54 documents. Some provide snapshots of discussions in and decisions by the council on Rhodes and highlight the constant surveillance that the situation in the eastern Mediterranean required. Luttrell and Zachariadou conclude with the texts of 26 of the documents and with an edition of a report sent from Rhodes in April 1403 by the Venetian vice-chancellor of Crete, Buonacorso Grimani, who had met the master of the Hospital. There is a map of the region and an index. Jonathan Riley-Smith Emmanuel College, Cambridge

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Laurence W. Marvin, The Occitan War: A Military and Political History of the Albigensian Crusade, 1209–1218. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008. Pp. xxvi, 328. ISBN 978 0 521 87240 9. Mark Gregory Pegg, A Most Holy War: The Albigensian Crusade and the Battle for Christendom. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008. Pp. xix, 253. ISBN 978 0 19 517131 0. Published on the 800th anniversary of the invocation of the anti-heretical crusade by Pope Innocent III, these two monographs seek to redress the lack of recent comprehensive treatments of the Albigensian crusade written in English (and to replace the classic but now outdated surveys written by Jonathan Sumption, Joseph Strayer and Walter Wakefield, among others). Any treatment of the anti-heretical crusade necessitates also entering into the current scholarly dispute regarding the nature of heresy in Latin Christendom. Did a structured “Cathar” church with extensive organization and continuity of dualist doctrine and practice ever exist? Or did Latin Catholic writers impose an imaginary intellectual and organizational continuity upon essentially disparate and heterogeneous groups, either because they saw all heresy as united and forming an apocalyptic precursor to the end of the world, or as a means of branding otherwise disparate political or religious opponents as an organized counter-church worthy of sustained and systematic opposition? Mark Pegg and Laurence Marvin differ markedly in their approaches to this subject and to the anti-heretical crusade. While both stress the discontinuity of culture between the crusaders and the inhabitants of Occitania (the Albigensian crusade’s primary theater), Marvin focuses largely on the crusaders’ military operations under Simon de Montfort (1209–18). Noting the ongoing fierce debate over the precise characteristics of heresy and the response to it in Occitania, Marvin accepts the idea of a “Cathar” church. However, he argues that once military operations began in 1209, the issue of heresy proved of marginal interest to the crusade’s participants. In contrast, Pegg is primarily interested in the long-term fate of heterodoxy in Occitania. For Pegg, past scholarship which envisioned an organized and doctrinally contiguous dualist Cathar church in western Europe from the eleventh century onwards is as mistaken as the romantic image of Catharism purveyed by tourist boards and recent popular novels. Both argue from silence, see continuities where none exist, rely on documents of dubious provenance (such as the charter of Niquinta, which Pegg decries as at best a medieval forgery), and accept a priori the existence of a Cathar church. He contends that these errors stem from the mistaken notion that religion is marked by enduring and timeless ideas rather than culturally contingent practices, a concept shared by medieval polemicists who publicized the view that heresy was eternal by using past heresies as templates onto which contemporary heterodoxies were fitted and thus explained. With the avowed mission of imaginatively evoking (through the fusion of drama, narrative and scholarship) the merging of the material and metaphoric realms which



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he claims characterized heresy in southern France, Pegg draws on inquisitorial records to argue that the word “Cathar” was never used by Occitanians. Instead, they designated as “good men” or “good women” those individuals whose living, intensely local, and continually socially renegotiated embodiment of cortezia united conceptions of heavenly holiness and earthly honor. Actions of courtesy towards a holy individual embodying restraint and moderation (viewed by the Occitanians as a living incarnation of holiness and illustrator of the means to salvation) were viewed by inquisitors as evidence that a person was a “believer” in the heretics, while the sacred metamorphosis of an individual into a holy person which often occurred near death was labeled by investigators as heretical “consolation.” While acknowledging that both “good men” and their supporters were interested in ideas regarding the relationship between the human and the divine, Pegg argues that these concepts should not be confused with those attributed to them by Latin Catholics. Moreover, the anti-heretical crusade radically altered the social and religious world of Occitania, such that the thoughts and actions of “good men” after 1230 were profoundly different from those operating before the advent of the crusaders. Both Marvin and Pegg stress the cultural rift between the anti-heretical crusaders (who hailed largely from northern France, Flanders-Brabant, and Germany) and the inhabitants of Occitania, a region characterized by a viciously contested and fractured political control, thriving towns and endemic warfare exacerbated by the interference of outside forces, namely the papacy and the crowns of Aragon, France and England. Both also draw on recent scholarship in their examination of the crusaders’ rationalization of the anti-heretical crusades in terms of just war and the existence of general codes of conduct (albeit unwritten) regulating acceptable behavior in times of war (codes often observed in the breach during the Albigensian crusades because of the campaigns’ long duration and their goal of the forcible eradication of heresy). However, while Marvin concludes that the anti-heretical crusades were not “particularly barbarous” compared to contemporary conflicts in western Europe, Pegg condemns them as the first instance of European genocide. While acknowledging earlier anti-heretical preaching efforts and the military expedition of the papal legate Henry de Marcy, both authors also credit the assassination of Peter Castelnau in 1208 with instigating the first full-fledged papal call for an anti-heretical crusade in Occitania. Each lays the responsibility for the initiation and outcome of the crusade squarely at the feet of Pope Innocent III, whom Pegg claims merged a century of more of Latin Christian thought on heresy and holy war in a call to eliminate heresy which the pope believed threatened the very existence of Latin Christianity (as it would be newly redefined at the Fourth Lateran Council [1215] in contrast to its imagined heretical alter ego). However, as the history of this and many other crusades illustrates, while the papacy might invoke a crusade, its military and religious leaders and papal legates often made decisions which were not necessarily consonant with papal mandates and could radically shift the nature and extent of a crusade’s goals. Although both authors ponder whether the papal indulgence for the anti-heretical crusade was cancelled outright

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by Innocent III and when precisely it was officially reinstated, the fact remains that recruiters continued to promote the crusade and reinforcements continued to arrive. Marvin blames the shifting nature of the crusade upon papal legates who realized that the extirpation of heresy required a committed leader (Simon de Montfort), but did not understand that their offer of confiscated properties and the incentive to acquire more from those accused of supporting heresy would result in a war driven by political rather than religious objectives. In contrast, Pegg sees the crusade as a popular one motivated primarily by the eschatologically driven extirpation of heresy up until the selection of Simon de Montfort as the crusade’s leader. For Pegg, the prolongation of the anti-heretical effort meant that chiliastic enthusiasm similar to the initial waves of the First Crusade evaporated, while the participation of Provencal noblemen dipped as a direct result of the crusaders’ savagery and their own conclusion that little honor was to be won in the anti-heretical campaign. For Marvin, the crusade’s goal had already shifted from the eradication of heresy to the question of who would control central Occitania as early as 1209. Peter of Aragon’s demise at the battle of Muret (1213) ended the possibility of Aragonese domination of the region, while the vacuum created by the death of Simon de Montfort opened an unforeseen window of opportunity for the French crown to expand its influence via royal participation in the anti-heretical crusade. He brands as inaccurate any lamentation over the crusaders’ supposed extermination of an Occitanian culture characterized by courtly love, regional autonomy and pacifist religion. Building on recent research, he argues that although the crusaders inevitably brought disruption and destruction, with the exception of some of the more powerful noblemen, the indigenous elite largely retained their influence and the region its prosperity and culture under the relatively cursory oversight of the French crown, while most of the northern supporters of de Montfort soon abandoned their new lands. For Marvin, as a war against religion, the crusade was a failure. Military activity merely drove Catharism into hiding, particularly after its destruction became secondary to the strategic and personal motives of acquiring territory and punishing those who defied the crusaders, especially in the Agenais and Gascony. The true extirpation of heresy would have to await the institution of the “Inquisition,” an all-embracing term Marvin uses to designate the anti-heretical efforts of bishops and Dominicans in Occitania. In contrast, Pegg follows contemporary scholarship in noting that while inquisitions into heretical depravity were a direct result of the anti-heretical crusade, they were far different in scope and intent from the organized institutional “Inquisition” of the early modern period. While equally eschewing romanticized images of Occitania, Pegg nevertheless insists that the crusade in fact effectively destroyed a unique culture which its opponents damned as heretical. Moreover, the Albigensian crusade introduced genocide into western Europe through its insistence upon a moral obligation to systematically eradicate a specific people whose very existence threatened that of the rest of Christendom, a campaign particularly horrific in that the crusade was directed against people who looked and acted



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like Christians but were imagined as an organized counter-church. This reviewer remains hesitant to accept this particular conclusion, as well as his assertion that the anti-heretical crusade provided the precedent for the elimination of Jews and Muslims from Christendom. However, Pegg is on firmer ground in his treatment of royal involvement in the anti-heretical crusade. Following Richard Kay’s recent work, he notes the difficulties facing Honorius III and his legates, who demonstrated an ambivalence towards the project similar to that displayed by Innocent III. For Pegg, the later phases of the anti-heretical crusade, “loud demonstrations of royal authority rather than long-lasting campaigns of conquest and expurgation” (p. 176), lacked the chiliastic atmosphere of 1209. Rather, the re-envisioning of heretics as a threat to kingdom and Christendom and the resulting conquest and purification of the heterodox south provided a precedent for the fusion of holy war and kingship under Louis IX. Brokered by Cardinal Romanus Frangipani at the orders of Gregory IX, the conditions for ending the crusade enabled the royal absorption of Raymond of Toulouse’s lands and the region’s eventual subjugation. The foundation of the university of Toulouse and royal support of Dominican and episcopal inquisitions resulted in a new phase of the suppression of heresy, which after the crusade lingered only as a phantasmic “atrophied nostalgia for the vivid and distinctive world of good men before the war” (p. 187). Marvin’s and Pegg’s divergent conclusions regarding the anti-heretical crusade as a whole and specific key events (such as the siege of Toulouse, the capture of Lavaur, the sack of Béziers and the Fourth Lateran Council) result partly from the differing scope and focus of their works (focused military history versus panoramic longue durée), but also in their evaluation of the three main surviving sources for the anti-heretical crusade: the chronicles of William of Puylaurens and the Cistercian monk Peter of Vaux-de-Cernay and the Chanson de la Croisade Albigeoise (written by the relatively unbiased southern cleric William Tudela and his anonymous and virulently anti-crusader continuator). Marvin handles his sources cautiously, noting where they disagree or present conflicted versions of events. Dedicated to probing the nature and motivation of Simon de Montfort and his supporters, Marvin relies largely on Peter of Vaux-de-Cernay (whom he values for his proximity to Simon and the crusader camp) and William of Tudela, but views Tudela’s anonymous continuator as highly partisan and reliable only in terms of portraying the sentiments of the citizens of Toulouse rather than accurate depictions of battles. In the pursuit of dramatic history, Pegg favors the more poetic and evocative version of events provided by Tudela and his continuator (especially since they provide a glimpse into the attitudes of the Occitanians and prove particularly valuable for the latter half of the war). His accounts of battles make for more gripping reading than Marvin’s, yet in trying to recreate a lost world, Pegg relies heavily on the anonymous for dramatic scenes and speeches invented or at the very least embroidered by a troubadour known to be venomously hostile to the northern invaders. Pegg and Marvin also differ in their treatment of key players such as Simon de Montfort and the Cistercian legate Arnaud Amaury. For Pegg, Simon was

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“an impecunious adventurer,” a “lord of moderate means, good martial skills and a sanctimonious manner” whose “charismatic sacrality” anticipated the holy kingship of Louis IX, and together with his military talents, enabled the success of the crusader armies (p. 161). For Marvin, Simon’s success lay in his tenacious use of siege warfare despite wild fluctuations in reinforcements and supplies. In general Marvin seeks to provide a more nuanced explanation (but not exculpation) of the often unsavory and brutal actions of the crusaders in light of their religious, political, military and cultural modes of operation (for example, Simon’s utilization of summary execution and mutilation in response to his enemies’ use of similar tactics and what he viewed as unforgivable treachery in shifting loyalties). After poetically depicting the vibrant culture of good men in contrast to the image of heresy cultivated among northerners and the papacy (which remains oddly onedimensional, failing to explain why the hysteria on heresy reached such a fever pitch precisely in the opening years of the thirteenth century), Pegg’s sympathy for his southern protagonists results in the portrayal of northerners as unevolving homicidal fanatics bent upon the purification of Christendom via holocaust. The complex motives and reasoning of the crusaders and their leaders remain relatively unprobed (with the poignant exception of the Christomimetic Mary of Oignies). Similarly, while both Pegg and Marvin rightly note the importance of the involvement of northern and southern prelates in the crusade, both spend little time evaluating their unique motivations. In particular, the issue of why so many Occitanian prelates invited crusaders to invade their lands to suppress heresy and supported the crusade effort remains unexplained. Were they simply invoking the specter of heresy to win contested rights and jurisdictions or to prevent their own removal or were they genuinely convinced of heresy’s threat? While both authors diverge in their assessment of the crusaders’ opponents, including the count of Foix, Raymond Roger Trencavel and the counts of Toulouse, both concur that individuals of all classes in Occitania engaged in endemic local warfare to protect the rights which were the basis of honor. This persistent warfare was routinely absorbed into larger conflicts, which perhaps explains why many Provençal noblemen initially joined the anti-heretical crusade. For Marvin, it was partly the clash of northern and southern cultures’ expectations for warfare and the functioning of “feudal” society and honor which exacerbated the atrocities which marked the Albigensian crusade, a clash embodied in the tragic fate of Baldwin of Toulouse, an Occitanian reared in the court of Philip Augustus who was unable to reconcile familial loyalty to his half-brother Raymond of Toulouse with his support for the crusade. Both authors have made valuable contributions to the study of the antiheretical crusade, among them making available to English-speaking students and researchers the fruits of ongoing research in German and French, providing new perspectives on the nature of heresy and early inquisitions against it, and applying the techniques of military history to the study of the campaigns of the Albigensian crusade. In particular, both monographs illuminate the formerly neglected topic



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of the participation of women (including the redoubtable Alice de Montfort) and other non-knightly groups in the anti-heretical crusade. Pegg provides poignant examples of the often-horrific impact of the anti-heretical wars upon Occitania’s inhabitants, while Marvin highlights the importance of these neglected groups for general warfare in western Europe, which while dominated by the ideals of knightly warfare nonetheless consisted largely of sieges and raids in which noncombatants, foot-soldiers, mercenaries, militias and stipendiaries played crucial and skilled roles. Jessalynn Bird Independent Scholar Petrus de Dusburgk, Chronica terrae Prussiae, ed. Jarosław Wenta and Sławomir Wyszomirski (Monumenta Poloniae Historica. Nova Series, 13). Kraków: Polska Akademia Umiejętności, 2007. Pp. lxxx, 331. ISBN 978 8360 18363 2. The Chronicle of Peter of Dusburg is the most important narrative source written in Prussia ruled by the Teutonic Order. The Chronicle contains details of Prussia before the arrival of the Teutonic Knights, narrates its thirteenth-century history and was written by a member of the Teutonic brethren expressly for the purposes of the order. This new Latin edition of the Chronicle was edited by two Polish scholars, Jarosław Wenta and Sławomir Wyszomirski. Jarosław Wenta has argued for years that there is an urgent need for the publication of critical new editions of chronicles and annals created under the patronage of the Teutonic Order in Prussia and this publication is the outcome of his resolve. The new critical edition follows earlier editions of the Chronicle by Christopher Hartknoch (1679) and Max Toeppen (1861). In contrast to these older editions, however, whilst making use of the seven extant manuscripts of the Chronicle the new one has been largely prepared on the basis of a single manuscript from the collection of the State Archives in Toruń (Archiwum Państwowe w Toruniu, Kat. II, XIII,1). This means that the current edition is not an edition of a reconstructed archetype of the Chronicle based on the seven extant manuscripts but is the edition of the manuscript chosen by the editors and arguably the most complete and closest to the original work of Peter of Dusburg. Wenta and Wyszomirski also decided to retain the division into two columns following the original manuscript and their critical apparatus, including the notes, details the variants and differences of the text in other manuscripts. The editors argue that Toeppen’s edition unnecessarily “cleaned up” the text by reordering it into a single column and amended the chronology of entries by reintegrating the marginal notes into the main text. The critical apparatus pertaining to the Latin text is prepared in Latin (and indicates the typographical and textual variations of seven manuscripts) while the editors’ notes are in Polish. In the introduction to the new edition the editors discuss issues surrounding the authorship of the Chronicle and the identity of the author. Not surprisingly, their

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arguments follow Wenta’s earlier ideas which were published in his various studies on Prussia, the Teutonic Order and Peter of Dusburg. The debate about the identity of the author of the Chronicle has a long tradition. According to Johannes Voigt, the place of origin for the author named as “Petrus de Dusburg” in the dedicatory letter of the Chronicle refers to Duisburg in the Duchy of Cleve. Whilst Duisburg may have been the Chronicle author’s birthplace Voigt argued that Koenigsberg was his main place of activity. The Koenigsberg provenance of the Chronicle is, according to Voigt, suggested by the Chronicle’s account of the crusading expedition which ended with the foundation of Koenigsberg. In the Chronicle details of the life and deeds of the Teutonic brethren from Koenigsberg occupy a pre-eminent place and Voigt argues (as Wenta and Wyszomirski do) that the author was closely associated with the Koenigsberg fraternity of the Teutonic Order, and in particular that no other fraternity of the order received so much attention. Wenta and Wyszomirski agree with the arguments presented by Max Toeppen in his introduction to the 1861 edition of the Chronicle. Toeppen suggested that Peter, the author of the Chronicle, could have been Peter, a canon fom Sambia, mentioned in charters in 1330 and 1331. Toeppen also suggested another possibility, namely that Peter could have been an official of the church in Sambia who witnessed a charter in 1338. Max Perlbach (1872) rejected that proposition because, according to his textual analysis of the Chronicle, Peter the chronicler lived in Koenigsberg castle and thus his association with Sambia is doubtful. Marzena Pollakówna (1968) on the other hand identified Peter, the author of the Chronicle, with the town of Doesburg, located east of Utrecht. She argued that Peter’s association with the Teutonic Order began as a result of the influence of Hugo von Rhenen (who joined the order in 1263) and his family. Pollakówna argued that Peter arrived in Prussia in about 1289 and subsequently spent more than forty years there. She commented that Peter arrived in Prussia as a mature man and was already an ordained priest before he embarked on the task of writing the Chronicle. However, she conceded that Peter’s arrival in Prussia could have occurred at the time of the translation of the seat of the grand master from Venice to Malbork in 1309. She rejected the proposition that Peter was closely associated with Koenigsberg and argued that he utilized oral and written sources and espoused the ideals for the order’s reform propagated by Werner von Orseln. Pollakówna’s proposition that Peter wrote his chronicle in close partnership with the grand master and researched the Archives of the order in Malbork is accepted by Wenta and Wyszomirski. Pollakówna also stated that Peter was likely to have been a chaplain to the grand master, perhaps because she assumed that all chroniclers and historians from Prussia and Livonia under the Teutonic Order were customarily appointed chaplains to the grand master. An alternative view (partly accepted by Wenta and Wyszomirski) was proposed by Gerard Labuda (1971). Labuda restated the view of the chronicler’s close association with Koenigsberg and demonstrated other alternatives for the identification of Peter of Dusburg, which are possible following a textual analysis



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of the Canonici Sambiensis epitome gestorum Prussie, although Labuda did not venture to propose that Peter of Dusburg was also the author of Epitome. Wenta and Wyszomirski acknowledge these arguments in their attempt to identify the author of the Chronicle. The editors suggest that the chronicler known as Peter of Dusburg was a canon from Sambia and also that the text of the Chronicle contains various elements contained in the text of the Epitome including repeating mistakes made by its author. Wenta and Wyszomirski highlight an entry by the author of the Epitome saying that on the day of Saint Lucia in 1313 he was elected a canon of Sambia. After a discussion of the possible chronological aspects of the documentary evidence in the manuscripts, Wenta and Wyszomirski propose that the Peter who received the canonry in 1313 also collected and edited the annals in the Epitome. Wenta and Wyszomirski’s edition of the Latin text of the Chronicle written by Peter of Dusburg, is of high quality and will serve scholars researching Prussia, the Teutonic Order and the Baltic Crusade alike. One hopes that this editorial effort will be followed by the publication of an English translation which would make the work of Peter of Dusburg more accessible to a wider audience. Darius von Güttner-Sporzyński The University of Melbourne Simon Phillips, The Prior of the Knights Hospitaller in Late Medieval England. Woodbridge: Boydell & Brewer, 2009. Pp. xiv, 210. ISBN 978 1 84383 437 3. This book is a carefully argued and carefully structured study of the role of the Hospitaller prior of England in the later medieval English polity, focusing especially on the varied services the prior provided to the English crown, and covering the period between Joseph de Chauncy’s appointment as prior in 1273 and the dissolution of the order in England and Wales in 1540. The main thrust of Dr Phillips’ argument is that the relations between the priors and the crown were consistently beneficial to both parties, and that hitherto historians of the crusades have been over-keen to represent these relations in terms of conflict. The prior, he presents, should be seen as an Englishman first and foremost, whose obligations to the crown outweighed, but complemented rather than detracted from, those he owed to his order. The arguments he advances to support his thesis are plausible and intelligent, and the broad chronological range adopted enables him to explain the changing relationship between crown and order with much greater clarity than hitherto. The book is divided into chapters examining the prior’s roles in political life as financier and treasurer, as defender of the realm, as ambassador, and as national statesman. A further chapter explores whether the order was effectively becoming secularized through the loss of control of its estates to lay persons, and scrutinizes the character of those granted estates or offices by the order in the last fifty years before its dissolution, a period when registers of provincial chapters survive.

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The four chapters detailing prioral activities in royal service provide a thorough treatment of individual priors’ activities in fulfilling these functions, and examine whether priors appointed to royal office reflected the constituencies from which royal office-holders typically came, and what they were able to contribute to royal office. Phillips notes, for example, that prior Robert Botyll’s service on the consiliar committee considering the defence of Calais in 1455 dovetailed nicely with the military expertise he had presumably acquired in the Aegean. Priors’ motivations in taking royal business and offices on are also examined, and ascribed in part to their desire to uphold the stability of the body politic and advance the interests of their order. Thus two of the three priors who became treasurers of England took on the role in moments of political uncertainty, and all three were able to secure speedy repayment of their order’s loans to the crown through their position, while Botyll was able to secure the council’s support for the collection of Jubilee indulgences in the order’s favour through his service as a trier of parliamentary petitions. The chapter on the prior as “national statesman” is particularly strong, carefully dividing the prior’s attendance at parliaments and great councils, clearing up previous confusion about his service on the continual (royal) council, and advancing plausible reasons why the prior evolved from being summoned to parliament as an ecclesiastical peer in the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries to being the first baron of the realm in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Throughout these chapters, it appears that the 1440s were the critical period in which the prior’s previously fluid position in the later medieval English polity became fixed. From about 1440, the prior’s precedence in the lay peerage became entrenched and thereafter most priors saw some diplomatic service, with Thomas Docwra (1501–27) in particular becoming a “core” diplomat; prioral involvement in parliamentary and other royal business at home also intensified, while prioral visits to the convent on Rhodes almost ceased. Phillips suggests that priors were becoming more involved because kings were becoming more remote, screened from contact by their household officers, and participation in government enabled priors at least to access those with influence about the king, if not, at least regularly, his person. Dr Phillips’s analysis of the grants made by the provincial chapters held between 1492 and 1539 is based on a thorough statistical analysis, and demonstrates that a large proportion of grants were made to relatives of Hospitallers, prioral servants, effectively hereditary tenants, and increasingly royal servants. Two trends are particularly noticeable. The first is the gradual replacement of grants in survivorship with leases of between forty and sixty years’ duration; the second is the much larger number of grants to royal servants and of grants of the right to present to benefices under the last prior before the dissolution, William Weston. Phillips attributes Weston’s innovations plausibly to his desire to secure influence at court and to maximize income in uncertain times, although he is at pains to stress that the priory still functioned effectively into the late 1530s, which is to underplay some of the difficulties obtaining in the middle of the decade.



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Throughout, Phillips’s approach to the prior of England’s place in the late medieval polity has the merit of attributing an intelligent and active agency to men who have often been presented as being at the beck and call of monarchs who subordinated the order’s interests to their own. He is surely right to suggest that previous writers have concentrated too much on the differences between crown and order rather than appreciating their largely positive character. Nevertheless, if the book has a weakness, it is precisely in its over-schematic and dismissive categorization of the existing historiography. The interests, approach and background of his “crusade historians” are more varied than he presents, and so is the source material on which their findings have been based. In particular, his suggestion (p. 163) that the “user-friendly” Maltese archives are easier to consult than those at Kew because they include sections devoted to the English “tongue” may be broadly true, but significantly underestimates their complexity; while some scholars have used a wider selection of unpublished manuscript sources in British archives than he allows. Furthermore, even if he disagrees with their arguments, more detailed reading of the work of scholars such as Peter Field and Charles Tipton would have enabled him to add precision to his statements regarding, for example, the movements of priors, and the dates of their appointments and deaths. That being said, Dr Phillips’s considerable labours have clearly not been in vain. One comes away from this book with a much better understanding of the prior of England’s place in his native polity. Gregory O’Malley Independent Scholar Prier et combattre: Dictionnaire européen des ordres militaires au Moyen Âge, ed. Nicole Bériou and Philippe Josserand with a preface by Anthony Luttrell and a historiographical introduction by Alain Demurger. Paris: Fayard, 2009. Pp. 1032. ISBN 978 2 213 62720 5. Figures alone do not suffice to express the immense effort that has gone into producing the first modern and up-to-date dictionary of the military orders. But the figures are impressive and are, therefore, worth quoting: the book contains 1,128 entries written by around 240 authors from 25 countries. These figures show how thorough the two editors and their team of 19 collaborateurs were in breaking down the history of the military orders into a great number of single aspects. The editorial team also made sure that the entries were written by those scholars who were best suited to bring their specialist knowledge to bear in producing a dictionary which has been put together strictly according to standards of academic excellence. This is not a commercial venture but a celebration of decades of scholarly work on the military orders and an effort to provide a highly structured and concise grasp on a scholarly field that is large in itself and that has benefitted from an immense surge in academic research in recent years. Next to the usual biographical entries and

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those on individual houses and areas in which the orders were operating, there is a large number of thematic entries not only on expected topics such as “noviciat” but also on less obvious, tangential themes such as “Maccabées”, which explores the use of this biblical theme in the theological ideology of the military orders. The wide range of seemingly loosely connected thematic entries makes this dictionary a rich source for research. There is also a great number of maps and illustrations, including some in colour. There remains the question as to what the international community of military order scholars, many of whom come from the English-speaking world, will make of the fact that this dictionary is published in French and not in English, which rapidly seems to be becoming the lingua franca of a globalized scholarly community. But projects such as this one show how much those who ignore non-English publications run the risk of losing out on. This is an extremely useful and immensely learned encyclopaedia. Christoph T. Maier Universität Zürich Denys Pringle, The Churches of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem: A Corpus. Volume IV: The Cities of Acre and Tyre with Addenda and Corrigenda to Volumes I-III, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009. Pp. xviii, 321. ISBN 978 0 521 85148 0. With the publication of volume IV of the Churches of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem, Denys Pringle has brought to conclusion the work of three decades carried out on behalf of the former British School of Archaeology in Jerusalem, now the Council for British Research in the Levant. It is by no means an exaggeration to state that in scope and quality of documentation, these four volumes constitute one of the most important contributions made to the field of crusader archaeology in recent years. The present volume in no way falls short of the level of scholarship found in the earlier volumes. It presents a comprehensive inventory of a possible 48 churches from the city of Acre and another 23 from Tyre and concludes with addenda and corrigenda of the preceding volumes discussing another 30 sites. The only surviving examples of Frankish ecclesiastical architecture that can actually be seen today in Acre are the church of St. Andrew and the Hospitaller church of St. John (only two of the 48 recorded churches). Tyre provides three examples: the cathedral of the Holy Cross, the chapel of St. Saviour and a church attributed to St. Thomas. Taking into account the fragmentary state of these remains, the author has had to rely almost solely on written sources. Consequently, the detail and depth of the discussions presented here is exemplary and reminds one of another work of the author, the study of the Red Tower in the Sharon Plain (Cambridge, 1986), where very limited archaeological remains served as the background for a



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broad and highly informative discussion of a building, its setting and the periods in which it functioned. As in the other volumes, the churches are not discussed in isolation but are preceded and surrounded by a wealth of topographical information. This information raises several issues not directly connected to the churches themselves but worthy of examination. In this regard, the block diagram (Fig. 6) showing the relative layout of Venetian and Pisan quarters in Tyre (for all the problematic aspects of unknown proportions and occasional difficulties in understanding directions given in the sources, which inevitably distort such diagrams) is a very useful means for getting a feel for the urban layout. Similar attempts for the Latin East have been made by Kool and Bahat, for Acre and Jerusalem respectively (Robert Kool, “The Genoese Quarter in Thirteenth Century Acre: A Reinterpretation of its Layout”, Atiqot 31, 1997, pp. 187–200; Dan Bahat, Topography and Toponymy of Crusader Jerusalem, unpublished PhD dissertation, Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1990) and by Ellenblum at Castellum Regis (Ronnie Ellenblum, “Colonial Activities in the Frankish East: The Example of Castellum Regis (MiÞilya)”, English Historical Review 111, 1996, pp. 104–22). It would be interesting and of no little value to expand on this type of work. The nature of the fortifications of Acre is a problematic issue that to date has been most effectively dealt with (regarding the probable position of the walls) by Benjamin Z. Kedar (“The Outer Walls of Frankish Acre”, Atiqot 31, 1997, pp. 157– 80). In his attempt to redraw the map of Frankish Acre (Fig. 3), Pringle has labelled the gates of these walls partly on the basis of the fourteenth-century maps of Pietro Vesconte and Paolino Veneto. While largely consistent, the information given in the labels of structures is occasionally at variance with that given on the two maps. For example, on Vesconte’s map the north-eastern outer tower is called “turris maledicta” whereas Veneto gives it as “[turris] Regis”, this being the new tower of Henry II referred to by the Templar of Tyre (494), and gives “turris maledicta” as the name of the adjacent tower on the inner wall. In this instance Pringle has followed Veneto and this seems to be in accord with the description of the Templar of Tyre (494–96). However, one might interpret that description differently. Perhaps the name “turris Regis” was given to a tower formerly known as the “turris maledicta” after it was rebuilt, and the two names are interchangeable, both referring to the outer corner tower? In any case, our attempts at reconstructing the city would be greatly aided by a more profound discussion of these and similar issues. These, of course, are matters that do not fall within the framework of the present series of volumes and are only mentioned here as examples of how this remarkably thorough study can lead us in other directions. As is inevitable in works of this magnitude, there are minor inconsistencies and omissions. Regarding the location of the cemetery chapel of St. Nicholas (No. 438), Pringle notes on page 154 that “medieval and later descriptions support the view that the centre of the cemetery of St. Nicholas, marked by the church or chapel of the same dedication, lay in the position now occupied by the modern Christian cemetery.” This modern cemetery

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is adjacent to the presumed position of the north-east corner of the Frankish old city and west of the northern side of the Tall al-Fukhkhar. This is more or less how it appears on the thirteenth-century maps of Matthew Paris. However, on p. 151 it is stated that, according to a source recording Conrad of Monferrat’s concessions to the Pisans in 1187, the church of St. Nicholas was located next to the first mill on the NaÞaman (Belus) river. This would place it considerably south of the modern Christian cemetery. Whereas Pringle has suggested that the cemetery of St. Nicholas may have expanded greatly to the north and south, this would not explain the two distinct locations for the church. Either, one of these is erroneous or, less likely perhaps, after the cemetery expanded the chapel was moved from its original location at the NaÞaman, to a new position further north. The description given in the Narracio de primordiis ordinis Theutonici for the location of the field hospital set up by the Germans in 1190 “in cimiterio sancti Nicolai inter montem, super quem sedit exercitus, et fluvium” (Walther Hubatsch, Quellen zur Geschichte des Deutschen Ordens, Frankfurt, Berlin, 1954, p. 26) seems to support the more southern location for the church. On the plan of Acre (Fig. 3) which has the Frankish sites superimposed over a plan of the modern town of Akko, Pringle has marked the Hospital of the Brothers or Sisters of Bethlehem in Montmusard (No. 377) but fails to mention, in his discussion of this site (pp. 44–45), the remarkable find of Benjamin Kedar, who noticed on early aerial photographs precisely at this location what appears to have been an elongated structure extending south from the area now occupied by a Tegart fort (today a Police Station) which I have suggested elsewhere may have been a covered market street (Kedar, 1997, pp. 162–63; Adrian J. Boas, “A Rediscovered Market Street in Frankish Acre,” Atiqot 31, pp. 181–86). On the medieval maps it is indeed referred to as a street – ruga (given here variously as Ruga bethleemitana p. 44, Ruga Betleemitana p. 73 and ruga Betleemitana, p. 80). An interesting suggestion is that the drawing published by Ladislaus Mayr in 1782 (not 1781 as in the caption) which is inscribed as the ruins of the palace and church of the Templars as they appeared in 1748 is probably in fact a representation of the hospital and church of St. John (p. 93). Pringle explains on page 170 (as in an earlier publication in the Council for British Research in the Levant (CBRL) Bulletin 2007, vol. 2, p. 33) that, since there is no mention of it by Richard Pococke, who visited Acre in 1738, it may be assumed that the Templar castle had been destroyed earlier. In his Corrigenda, Pringle updates and revises his earlier remarks on an additional 21 churches and chapels. On Khirbat ÝIqbala (No. 101) he suggests that Belmont was developed from a manor house into a castle when the Hospitallers acquired the estates in terre de Emmaus by 1141. I suggest that this probably occurred somewhat later and may have been part of a general fortification programme dating to the 1170s or 1180s when Saladin’s attacks on the kingdom generated the refortification of small castles like Bethgibelin, Blanchegarde, Darom, Toron des Chevaliers and al-Taiyba and the fortification of former non-military structures such as the estate



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centre at Belmont and the Premonstratensian monastery of St Samuel (Montjoie). I quite agree with the suggestion (by M. Piana, 2007) that the keep at Montfort may have been an église-donjon (No. 146). Indeed, I suggested this myself in 1999 (Crusader Archaeology. The Material Culture of the Latin East, London, New York, 1999, p. 100). As in the earlier volumes, Peter Leach’s excellent architectural drawings are in tune with the standards of the text, and together they make this volume a highly useful and indispensable work. Pringle concluded a 1993 paper on crusader churches (“Churches in the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem [1099–1291],” in Ancient Churches Revealed, ed. Y. Tsafrir, Jerusalem, 1993, pp. 28–42) with the statement that: “A great deal more painstaking documentation of Christian and Muslim buildings, dating to before, during and after the Crusader occupation, is needed before it will be possible to speak confidently about the respective architectural contributions of East and West or of East to West in the Crusader kingdom” (p. 39). With the completion of this monumental project one can say that, at least with regard to the crusader churches, this “painstaking documentation” has now been carried out. Adrian J. Boas University of Haifa Projets de Croisade (v. 1290–v. 1330), ed. Jacques Paviot (Documents relatifs à l’histoire des Croisades, 20). Paris: L’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, 2008. Pp. 412. ISBN 2 87754 205 0. This is a collection of nine crusade projects or plans produced in Latin or Old French between around 1290 and 1330, all but one of which have been previously published. The crusade plans of the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries present various problems to historians. For instance, it is not always clear whether the author had personal knowledge of the situation in the eastern Mediterranean, or whether the project was composed with the intention that it be put into action or just as a literary exercise. Jacques Paviot explains that the criterion for selection of the texts included in this volume was that the author should have direct experience of the East and the crusades (p. 9). The projects included here are also, with one exception, relatively brief. Very few written plans for military campaigns were produced during the medieval period, and the bulk of those that were composed dealt with the crusade. These crusade projects are valuable to historians because they show how individual Latin Christian writers in the eastern Mediterranean and the West viewed the political, cultural, and religious situation in the eastern Mediterranean. They also offer insights into geographical knowledge, logistics and priorities in strategy and tactics, and indicate what contemporaries believed to be the major reasons why Latin Christianity had lost control of the Holy Land to the Mamluks.

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Three of these projects, as Paviot explains in his introduction (p. 13), resulted from the discussions prompted by Pope Gregory X: the Via ad Terram Sanctam, the Memoria, and Fidenzio de Padua’s Liber recuperationis Terre Sancte. The last of these is the longest piece in the volume; the other two are considerably shorter. These are followed by the projects drawn up for Pope Clement V in 1306 by Jacques de Molay, master of the Temple and Fulk Villaret, master of the Hospital. There are then two slightly later documents, the Devise des chemins de Babylone, the contents of which show it to have been composed by a Hospitaller, and a second, different crusade project by Fulk de Villaret, which, Paviot comments, was actually put into practice by Pope Clement V (p. 33). The next document belongs to the same general period: a short project submitted by King Henry II of Cyprus to the Church Council of Vienne in 1311. The final document in the volume is published here for the first time: Li Charboclois (gemstone) d’armes du conquest precious de la Terre Sainte de promission, by the English Hospitaller Brother Roger de Stanegrave. Stanegrave had spent many years in an Egyptian prison before being at last released through the good offices of Isaac the Jew, agent of a Genoese merchant. Paviot has traced Stanegrave’s career on his return to England (pp. 37–41), where he died in 1332 or shortly after. The Charboclois, written shortly before his death, was intended to encourage King Edward III of England to join the crusade proposed by King Philip VI of France, and is a combination of references to prophecies, French epic and romance, stereotypical moralizing, and Stanegrave’s own first-hand knowledge of the Mamluks and of the Egyptian terrain. His appeal went unheard; Edward III did not join the crusade, and by the end of the decade he and his nobles were engaged in war against France. Nevertheless, Stanegrave’s work is of enormous interest as an eyewitness assessment in “the French of England” of the situation in the eastern Mediterranean. It has been previously overlooked by scholars because the only surviving manuscript was included in the Cotton Library, MS Otho D v, and hence was seriously damaged in the Cotton fire of 1731. The edition is therefore fragmentary, but does enable the reader to gain some appreciation of Stanegrave’s work. The volume includes an introduction giving the historical context of the plans, a discussion of their contents and some information about their authors. Those wishing to study the language rather than the content of these documents will notice the lack of any statement of editorial conventions. It is not always clear what new editorial work has been done on the republished texts: it appears that all have been checked to the original manuscripts (although this is not specifically stated for every text), and the variants between manuscripts are given in the notes to each text. The editor has attempted to identify the various quotations and references in the texts, although some remain unidentified: for example, Fidenzio de Padua’s reference to Aristotle (p. 134) is presumably to the Secreta secretorum, but this is not stated. It is somewhat confusing that the critical apparatus and explanatory notes for each text are combined. There is no glossary, although the indices of



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names and places will resolve some queries; an index of subjects would also have been useful. Although all but one of the documents included in this volume have been published elsewhere, the previous editions are not all easily accessible. It is particularly useful to have a series of projects from the same period gathered into one volume, for when these works are read together some interesting patterns emerge. As Jean Richard notes in his preface (p. 7), the writers do not mention cooperation with the Mongols, nor do they refer to events in the West: there is no reference to the crisis in Sicily, nor to the trial of the Templars. Most of the writers were anxious to stop trade between Christians and Muslims, particularly the sale of weapons. They were concerned about the need to hire crossbowmen and other mercenaries – the warriors involved in these campaigns would not be solely motivated by the crusade vow – and they disagreed over the best route to take en route to the Holy Land. The scholars who have studied these texts have already noticed these points, but the juxtaposition of these texts in this volume will greatly facilitate further in-depth scholarly study. Helen J. Nicholson Cardiff University Teresa Shawcross, The Chronicle of Morea: Historiography in Crusader Greece. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009. Pp. xvi, 401. ISBN 978 0 19 955700 4. The Chronicle of Morea, a narrative originally composed in the fourteenth century and focusing on the Latin Principality of Morea (the Peloponnese), is a key source in understanding the world left behind by the Fourth Crusade and the ensuing Latin conquest of much of the Byzantine Empire. It is a very problematic source of information with regard to its direct testimony, as comparison with better-informed sources shows it to be riddled with inaccuracies. Its form and its portrayal of events are, however, highly revealing of the social, political and cultural contexts in which it was produced and later adapted, and it is the wealth of insights that can be revealed through close analysis of such textual considerations which Teresa Shawcross deftly and systematically unfolds in this book. Such an analysis of this work is a particularly complex undertaking, since the Chronicle survives in several versions in four languages, whose content diverges considerably, while the original text from which they derive is lost. The authorship and circumstances of composition, both of the original and of most of the existing adaptations, are not clearly established, though important indications can be gleaned from the differing ways in which the original material was reshaped to suit the purposes of those responsible for production of the latter. The first part of the book explores these ambiguities and other aspects of the history of the work itself, addressing the relationships between the different versions of the Chronicle and between the Chronicle and its sources, the production and dissemination of

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manuscripts and the cultural contexts in which they were received. The clear and comprehensive exposition given here provides a strong foundation for what follows. In the second part, Shawcross examines evidence of the influence on the text of oral methods of composition, a preoccupation of past work on the Greek versions of the Chronicle but here also encompassing the French text. Rather than positing an actual oral stage in the work’s development, Shawcross argues for the integration of techniques derived from an oral milieu into an original written composition. The investigation entails in-depth technical analysis and comparison of the use of a selection of syntactical and rhetorical devices in the two oldest versions of the Chronicle, in French and vernacular Greek, finding each to be in keeping with contemporary developments in literature in the same language elsewhere. While this section may seem slightly mismatched with the themes of the rest of the book, the latter conclusion underpins the correspondences between the Chronicle and other historiography of the period identified in the third part. The last and most invigorating section of the book examines the ways in which the representation of events and their participants in the early forms of the Chronicle illuminate the social context in which it was first produced and the possible purposes of its composition. Shawcross effectively illustrates how the Chronicle’s virulent hostility towards the Byzantines existed side by side with a favourable treatment of the Greek aristocracy of the Principality itself and argues persuasively that it was aimed at promoting a sense of solidarity and common identity uniting the landowning stratum of the Principality across the ethnic and sectarian divide, a vision in keeping with the findings of David Jacoby’s studies on the Peloponnese. She persuasively argues that in this regard the Chronicle was the earliest example of a wider pattern of historiography in Greek lands under Latin rule. In the fifteenth century, Latin rulers in Cyprus and in the Ionian Islands and Epiros were glorified in works written in vernacular Greek, whose authors’ commitment to Orthodoxy did not preclude the promotion of cross-confessional solidarity based on loyalty to a dynasty and identification with a geographical unit. The line of argument accords with the thrust of much recent work on the region and period, questioning the impermeability of ethnic boundaries and the intractability of sectarian antagonism, and exploring the development of new patterns of identity in the erstwhile Byzantine world. In particular, it resonates with the conclusions of Sally McKee’s work on Crete in discerning movement towards the construction of embryonic nations in former Byzantine provinces under Latin rule, embracing both Greek and Latin inhabitants and defined by shared geography and a degree of social integration, as well as associated tensions between families which had taken part in the original Latin settlement and later interlopers. The book intriguingly posits a fundamental link between linguistic form and ideological content, arguing that such sentiments went hand in hand with the selection of vernacular languages for historiography, whereas works in Latin or classicizing Greek tended to emphasize the sectarian divide. The re-emergence in



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this period, after many centuries, of an extensive vernacular Greek literature is thus connected with a proliferation of new ways of thinking about identity resulting from the shattering of Byzantium’s uncontested political and cultural dominance among Greek-speakers in 1204. It must be objected, however, that minimal evidence is offered in support of the identification of classical modes with sectarianism. The only source cited on the Greek side is the History of Niketas Choniates, a work composed in the years immediately either side of the Fourth Crusade and thus far from contemporary with the milieu of the vernacular texts discussed. Furthermore, the portrayal of Choniates as a quintessential anti-Latin polemicist, a rather hoary historiographical standby, does not do justice to the true complexity of his attitudes. The book is well supplemented by supporting materials, including helpful maps and family trees showing the descent of the Villehardouin princes and of the baronial house of le Maure, the possible patrons of the original text. Colour plates offer a visual sense of the diversity of the textual tradition, which is also more concretely conveyed by the presentation at the end of the book of a series of extracts, with the text and translation of the different versions laid out side by side in columns. Backing its arguments with copious quotation from the text, this book casts a thought-provoking light on Frankish Greece from a variety of angles. Christopher Wright University of London Marek Smoliński. Joannici w polityce książąt polskich i pomorskich. Od połowy XII do pierwszego ćwierćwiecza XIV wieku [The Hospitallers and Their Involvement in the Politics of Rulers of Poland and Pomerania. 1150–1315]. Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Gdańskiego, 2009. Pp. 379. ISBN 978 83 7326 519 6. Marek Smoliński is a historian of the Middle Ages in Poland and Central Europe. His recent work concentrated on the military orders, and in particular the Hospitallers. This book is the outcome of Smoliński’s extensive research for which he was awarded his Doctor of Letters degree (or habilitacja). In his book Smoliński aims at presenting the relationship between the Hospitallers who settled in Poland and Pomerania and their benefactors who were mainly the Piast dynasts. Smoliński concentrates on the period between 1150 and 1315 and attemptes to place the reasons for the foundation of individual commanderies in Poland within the context of the foundation processes of the Hospitaller commanderies in Germany, Bohemia and Moravia. Smoliński explored the involvement of the Hospitallers in the politics of the dynasties ruling the region. Through examination of the complexities of the association between the benefactors and the Order of Saint John Smoliński analyses an unexplored area of research in Polish historiography. He discusses the similarities between politics conducted by the Přemyslid and the Piast dynasties and the situation in which the

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order found itself in Pomerania. There alliances often culminated in the order being deprived of its local possession and evicted because of the local political situation. Smoliński discusses the ways in which the order survived the loss of the Holy Land and then the dissolution of the Order of the Temple. The acquisition of the properties of the Temple, Smoliński argues, may have assisted the Hospitallers in their survival and adaptation to local conditions. For Smoliński it is the adaptation which involved very close relations with the local elites and assured the order’s survival in Poland and Pomerania. Smoliński proposed a number of hypotheses, in particular in relation to the motivation of Henry of Sandomierz in granting an estate in Zagość to the Order of Saint John. Smoliński argued that it was the family relationship between the Piasts and the Moravian dynasts which assured Henry’s favourable reception of the Knights Hospitaller in his duchy. Smoliński argues that Henry was in fact using the intermediary of his brother, Casimir II the Just, who through his relationship (and later a marriage) was connected with the Moravian rulers. Similarly, it was an external influence which prompted the elder brother of Henry of Sandomierz, Mieszko III the Old to institute the commandery of the Order of Saint John in Poznań in 1187. The impetus and example for this foundation, as Smoliński argues, came from the ruler of Western Pomerania, Bogusław I, who before 1187 had already settled the Hospitallers in Stargard on the Ina River. Smoliński also argues that Henry of Sandomierz’s decision to grant an estate to Hospitallers in his duchy, was closely reliant on the policy of Bolesław IV the Curly, who at the time pursued a policy of closer cooperation with Frederick Barbarossa. An example of this strategy was the dynastic settlement which allowed the return to Poland of the sons of Władysław II the Exile and the restoration of their rule in Silesia. The book is divided into two parts. In the first part, Smoliński examines the political and dynastic reasons for grants to the Hospitallers in Zagość (Sandomierz) and Sławno (Pomerania). The author discusses the primary and secondary sources and presents the motivation for the Piast dynasts’ support for the Order of Saint John in the context of the actions of Central European rulers. The author carefully gives credit to prior research but presents his own original hypotheses. In the second part, Smoliński discusses the history of the Hospitaller outposts in Poland in the context of the politics conducted by the priors of Bohemia and Germany. In order to discuss his particular point of view he outlines the establishment of the structures of the order in Bohemia, Moravia and Germany. This also allows the author to introduce the complicated political situation which evolved in Poland after the civil war which ended in 1146 with the expulsion of Władysław II the Exile by the coalition of his younger brothers: Bolesław IV, Mieszko III and Henry. Smoliński expertly uses the extant sources to examine in detail the roles assumed by the Hospitallers during the internal conflict. Not surprisingly, the Polish experience is similar to that of the Hospitallers in western Europe. The Knights were entrusted with diplomatic missions, they were courtiers, and they were entangled in a web of local politics.



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This is an interesting work. Its conclusions testify to the general uniformity of the reception of the Order of Saint John across Latin Christendom and the universality of the ethos of the military religious orders. Darius von Güttner-Sporzyński The University of Melbourne

Short Notices David Jacoby, Latins, Greeks and Muslims: Encounters in the Eastern Mediterranean, 10th–15th Centuries (Variorum Collected Studies Series, 914). Farnham and Burlington VT: Ashgate, 2009. Pp. xii, 322. ISBN 978 0 7546 5978 5. This volume combines twelve articles previously published elsewhere between 1998 and 2003. They are preceded by a preface and followed by a list of Addenda and Corrigenda as well as two indices of names and subjects: “The Byzantine outsider in trade (c.900–c.1350)” (2000); “Diplomacy, trade, shipping and espionage between Byzantium and Egypt in the twelfth century” (2000); “Migrations familiales et stratégies commerciales vénitiennes aux XIIe et XIIIe siècles” (2002); “La colonisation militaire vénitiennne de la Crète au XIIIe siècle: une nouvelle approche” (1998); “Mercanti genovesi e veneziani e le loro merci nel Levante crociato” (2001); “The fonde of crusader Acre and its tariff: some new considerations” (2001); “Foreigners and the urban economy in Thessalonike, c.1150–c.1450” (2002); “Thessalonique de la domination de Byzance à celle de Venise. Continuité, adaptation ou rupture?” (2002); “La consolidation de la domination de Venise dans la ville de Négrepont (1205–1390): un aspect de sa politique coloniale” (2002); “New evidence on the Greek peasantry in Latin Romania” (2003); “Byzantine traders in Mamluk Egypt” (2003); “Greeks in the maritime trade of Cyprus around the mid-14th century” (2002).

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Editors Professor Benjamin Z. Kedar The Institute for Advanced Studies The Hebrew University of Jerusalem Jerusalem 91904, Israel

Professor Jonathan Phillips History Department Royal Holloway, University of London Egham Surrey TW20 0EX England, U.K. [email protected]



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