The Dream and the Tomb (18 page)

THE knights who had been loyal to Godfrey had their way: the kingdom was not given over to the papal legate. Just as they defended the city of Jerusalem by force of arms against the Saracens, so now they defended it by force of arms against Daimbert. They seized the Tower of David, filled it with Godfrey's bodyguard, stationed troops at the gates, and surrounded the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. According to his will, written during the previous Easter celebrations, Godfrey had granted Jerusalem and Jaffa to Daimbert and to the papacy in perpetuity. It would become a theocracy. The knights were determined that it should become an earthly kingdom.

Promptly, the knights elected their new ruler. He was Baldwin, Count of Edessa, Godfrey's younger brother, who had taken no part at all in the conquest of Antioch or Jerusalem but had spent his energy in carving out a separate principality for himself. The choice of Baldwin implied a certain antipapal posture, a feeling that the kingdom was too precious to be entrusted to priests.

Baldwin was a man who loved work, disdained idleness, and was interested in everything that happened in the kingdom. He enjoyed the panoply of kingly rule and in public always appeared with a mantle hanging from his broad shoulders. He towered above other men and had a kingly presence.

When the message came from Jerusalem saying that Godfrey was dead, and it was expected that Baldwin would succeed to the throne by hereditary right, he grieved for the death of his brother briefly, while rejoicing greatly in his inheritance. So says Fulcher of Chartres, who knew him well. In early October, Baldwin set out from Edessa with a small army of two hundred knights and seven hundred infantrymen. His intention was to reach Jerusalem in the shortest possible time, and that meant passing through territory occupied by the Turks. The Saracen intelligence system was well organized; his army was closely watched. Duqaq, Sultan of
Damascus, was determined to prevent him from reaching Jerusalem. The small army passed through Antioch—Bohemond was at this time languishing in a Turkish jail, having been captured in one of his periodic forays into the hinterland—and the people of Antioch asked Baldwin to be their regent in the absence of their sovereign prince. Baldwin refused. To be acting prince of Antioch was a small thing compared with being King of Jerusalem. He marched down the coast and was greeted civilly by the emirs who retained possession of the coastal cities. Tripoli was then ruled by Ibn-Ammar, who sent gifts of bread, wine, wild honey, and goats. Ibn-Ammar was friendly to the Christians and offered a severe warning. He had not the least doubt that Sultan Duqaq was preparing an ambush somewhere along the way. Fulcher of Chartres, who accompanied the expedition, says that Baldwin made light of the information. Baldwin was an excellent general who was inclined to believe that his enemies were aware of his excellence, and would therefore avoid him.

The ambush was laid near the Dog River, some ten miles north of Beirut, and here Baldwin fought one of the hardest battles of his life. He fell into the trap prepared for him, with seeming alacrity. His scouts had detected the presence of the Damascenes in the hills and a fleet of ships standing offshore. They reported to Baldwin that the trap was closing on them, and they were certain a large army was waiting in the hills to descend upon them. Baldwin's men remained in their tents keeping careful watch.

The enemy stormed down the hills but failed to penetrate the camp, and on the morning of the following day Baldwin ordered a retreat, taking care that the baggage train was guarded by his best knights. The line of retreat was a narrow coastal road hemmed in by the sea and the hills. At Juniye, Baldwin stopped retreating, turned around, and ordered a general attack at a place where three roads met. The attack was so sudden and so well organized that the enemy fled in panic down all the three roads and up the hills and into the sea. Victory was complete and there were many prisoners. Baldwin divided the booty among his knights and spent the following night resting in a grove of olive trees in the shadow of an abandoned castle.

The road was now open to Jerusalem. In Beirut, Tyre, Sidon, and Acre the local emirs sent food to the army. At Haifa, which had been captured by Tancred, they were able to buy bread and wine outside the city walls. Tancred at that moment was in Jerusalem, helping Daimbert against the knights. Tancred had seen his opportunity: he would become the power behind the patriarchate. When he heard that Baldwin was advancing on Jaffa, he rushed down to the seacoast to head him off, but he was too late, apart from being ineffective.

From Jaffa, Baldwin marched to Jerusalem in triumph. There was extraordinary jubilation, the people pouring out of the city to welcome him. His great height, his fiery beard, his strange pallor, marked him as a man unlike other men. While Tancred fled to the Galilee and Daimbert
went into seclusion in a monastery at Mount Zion. Baldwin quietly accepted the title of King of Jerusalem and set his royal house in order.

After a few days in Jerusalem Baldwin led his army out into the Judaean wilderness. He marched on Hebron and made the dramatic descent—a drop of more than four thousand feet in seventeen miles—to the Dead Sea. They were the first Crusaders to travel along the shores of the Dead Sea, which left them spellbound.

They feasted on dates and came upon strange people so blackened by the sun that they seemed inhuman; accordingly, they were left in peace. Going beyond the Dead Sea, they reached Wadi Musa, where Moses struck the rock, riding through a landscape of seething rocks, which looked as though they were still in process of formation, a shapeless and jagged landscape that might have been torn out of the moon.

They returned by way of the Dead Sea, visited Hebron again, and rode to Bethlehem, where they were met by Daimbert, who was prepared to make peace. Here, in the Church of the Nativity, Baldwin was crowned King of Jerusalem by Daimbert himself, whose change of heart was perhaps due to practicality. The knights had the power to enforce their wishes. Where Godfrey was abrupt and irascible, Baldwin was affable and courteous, using diplomacy rather than force whenever it was possible. Indeed, he had very little alternative, for although he possessed a resounding title, he could command fewer knights than many minor princes in Europe.

The Crusaders were in a pitiable position, divided among themselves, with armies so small that Bedouin raiding parties under skillful leadership could have destroyed them, and there was little income to defray the expenses of the army. More than anything else they needed to extend their territory, for new territory meant new wealth, new strategic positions, new strength.

Sometime in the early spring, Baldwin led a raiding party across the Jordan and made a night attack on an Arab encampment. He caught the Arabs by surprise, but most of the men were able to escape, leaving the women and children and all their possessions behind. Camels, asses, slaves, and treasure fell into Christian hands; the women and children were made prisoners; everything that had been in the camp, except for the swift horses on which the Arabs escaped, now belonged to Baldwin. While the prisoners were being led across the desert to Jerusalem, Baldwin learned that the wife of an Arab chieftain had given birth. She was riding in one of those woven, cagelike baskets often used by women when traveling on camelback. Baldwin ordered that she should be taken down from the camel, that a bed should be made for her, and that she should be given food and two skins of water. The wife of the chieftain asked that a maid be left with her. She lay in the shade of some trees. Two camels were left with her to provide her with milk. Baldwin himself superintended her comfort, and as a final gesture he removed his royal mantle and wrapped it around her.

Such acts of courtesy were not infrequent in Crusader times. Both sides butchered women when it suited their purpose, but the wives of princes and chieftains were generally treated with respect. Baldwin knew the Arabs would soon find her; she was in no danger. This courtesy had a happy sequel: some time later, the woman's husband would save Baldwin's life.

Baldwin was happy in the desert; he had a contemplative cast of mind. His first wife, Godehilde, died during the Crusaders' march across Asia Minor, and he was now married to an Armenian princess. He could be very tender. He could also be absolutely ruthless.

Arsuf, the small seaport north of Jaffa, was in Arab hands, and it was necessary that it should be conquered. Some Genoese ships, which had been berthed at Lattakieh during the winter, sailed to Jaffa under the favorable spring winds, and the sailors made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Baldwin came down to Jaffa especially to greet them. There were twenty-seven galleys and five freighters, forming a formidable fleet. Baldwin offered them the same terms that had been offered to the Pisans and Venetians: a part of the spoils of captured cities, trading centers, privileges. He explained that he wanted Arsuf, and the Genoese eagerly offered their assistance. They wanted to sack the city and make off with its treasure, but Baldwin was determined that no harm should come to it. It was an important seaport. It could be used by all ships friendly to the Crusaders. He therefore wanted it intact. When Arsuf surrendered after a siege of only three days, Baldwin permitted the entire population to march out. They were allowed to take their money with them. A long column set out under a safe-conduct to Ascalon.

Merciful at Arsuf, Baldwin was merciless at Caesarea, which he also captured with the help of Genoese ships. The siege lasted fifteen days. At last the order was given to storm the walls with scaling ladders and wooden towers. This time there was a massacre of all the men. The women were spared, because, says Fulcher of Chartres, “they could be used to turn the hand mills.” The emir was spared; so was the
qadi
, the chief magistrate; only because a large ransom could be expected from them. The dead Turks were burned, and by stirring among the ashes the Christians were able to find the gold bezants the Turks had swallowed to prevent them from falling into the hands of infidels. In June, the Crusaders learned that the Egyptians were massing their forces at Ascalon. They were not moving forward, but this stationary army grew rapidly during the summer.

Baldwin, always practical, decided to multiply his own army by the simple process of making every squire a knight. Thus the number of available knights increased from 130 to 260. Counting his army, Baldwin felt sure he had nine hundred infantrymen. From spies he learned that the enemy had eleven thousand knights and twenty-one thousand infantrymen. If the figures were accurate, the Crusaders were outnumbered thirty to one.

July passed, and then August, and the Egyptians were still at Ascalon. On September 6, 1101, Baldwin's army set out from Jaffa in a spirit of fearful expectation, knowing that the Egyptians would soon attack but hoping that, with God's mercy, they might be able to strike first and take the Egyptians unawares.

Baldwin himself accompanied a scouting party and saw in the distance a vast camp shimmering on the plain about eight miles from Ascalon. He raced back to his soldiers and, talking like a king who had been a priest, he told them that the gates of heaven were already opening for them, that the survivors would be blessed among men, and that those who fled the battlefield would have a long journey back to France. Then he formed his troops into six battalions and led them into battle. On a high mast, so that all could see it, shone the True Cross.

The Egyptians were not taken by surprise. What surprised them was the sheer audacity of the Crusaders, who charged straight into their massive army. The first and second columns were lost. The third column charged and held its ground without inflicting much damage on the enemy. Then Baldwin, commanding the fourth column, and mounted on his favorite Arab charger, called Gazelle, threw himself and his knights at the enemy. He fought like a man possessed. This fourth column broke the enemy line. For about an hour, there was fighting all over the plain of Ascalon, and at last the Egyptians fled back to the safety of the city walls.

Baldwin had won a great victory, but the price had been too high. He had lost nearly a third of his knights and about three hundred infantrymen. About five thousand of the enemy had been slain. The Crusaders spent the night in the Egyptians' tents, and in the morning they gathered up the huge supplies of bread, grain, and flour; even the tents were taken to Jaffa. Worn out by the battle, the Crusaders marched slowly.

A small detachment of Egyptians, who had been fighting against Baldwin's rear guard and had done some damage, reached Jaffa before them, displaying captured shields, helmets, and lances, and declaring that the Christian army had been destroyed. It was a trick to make Jaffa surrender. The trick failed, but it alarmed the people of Jaffa sufficiently to make them dispatch a message to Tancred at Antioch, urging him to send troops as quickly as possible. A few days later Tancred received another letter from Jaffa, saying that all was well, for Baldwin had returned in triumph, his pack animals laden with Egyptian booty.

The war with Egypt continued in the late spring of the following year. This time, according to Fulcher of Chartres, they came with an even larger army commanded by the son of al-Afdal. With this force the Egyptians hoped to destroy the Christians once and for all.

On May 17, 1102, Baldwin led the Christian army out of Jerusalem to join battle with the Egyptians. It would have been wiser for him to have remained in Jerusalem. When he reached Ramleh, he found the whole
Egyptian army arrayed against him. He had five hundred knights, for a small Crusading army had arrived from France to supplement his forces. The Egyptians thought at first that Baldwin's troops were the vanguard of a far greater army; they hesitated. Baldwin attacked first, as was his custom. He lost at least a quarter of his troops, and when night fell he took refuge in the fortress at Ramleh. This fortress was little more than a tower, built the previous year. Here, hemmed in on all sides by the enemy, he was as close to defeat as he had ever been. He had only a few knights with him, and he was out of touch with the rest of his army, which was in a state of total disarray. There appeared in the darkest hour of the night the Arab chieftain whose wife Baldwin had helped after she had given birth. The chieftain said that to his certain knowledge the Egyptians would attack the tower at dawn, and it was necessary that he should escape immediately. With four companions Baldwin slipped out of the tower, the chieftain leading the way. A little while later, two other knights also slipped away. All the rest were doomed, for the Egyptians heaped faggots around the tower, and were preparing to set it ablaze when, at dawn, the knights rushed out, preferring to die in battle rather than in a burning tower. A hundred knights were taken captive and perhaps another hundred were cut down.