Germans and others are still committed, but since the death of Frederick Barbarossa they don’t have a strong leader.’
‘I can’t believe Henry can only muster eighty knights to regain a kingdom! Is that all?’
‘I’m afraid so, Richard. I’m sorry.’
‘We can’t take Jerusalem with two hundred and fifty knights, and five hundred men. I need twice that number of knights, and another five thousand men!’
The Lionheart then bellowed at his groom to get Fauvel saddled. Within minutes, he had ridden out of the camp, still in a fury.
I immediately summoned a squadron of his personal conroi and rode after him. It did not take long to find him; he was on Montjoie, staring out at Jerusalem.
I approached him with some trepidation, but he had become melancholy rather than angry.
‘Take a last look, Ranulf. I doubt that we will ever see it again. Our time in Palestine is over, there is nothing more I can do. Even if we could take the city – and that would need a miracle from God – how could we hold it? If I stayed and imposed stability, where would our resources come from? John would seize England, and Philip Augustus would invade Normandy, Maine, Angers… there would be no one to stop him.’
‘Sire, you would have to leave the Holy Land to defend the Empire.’
‘Of course I would. But how is Henry going to defend Jerusalem against Saladin? With only eighty knights!’
‘There are the Templars and Hospitallers, my Lord.’
‘Still not enough. Jerusalem has gone, we must accept that.’
‘Sire, Saladin will not live for ever.’
‘I know, but the notion of the invincibility of the Latin knight in the minds of the Muslims has gone. Others will follow Saladin. He’s a great warrior and a chivalrous man, but there will be others.’
‘But what of the rest of the Holy Land, my Lord?’
‘The Christian lords can hold the coast. The land is fertile; if they have enough to pay the Pisans, Venetians and Genoese to supply them, they can prosper. Besides, those cities mean less to the Muslims, so there is a compromise to be struck with them.’
‘What will you do, my Lord?’
‘When we’re sure the coast is secure, we go home. I fear there will be many battles to fight there. Will you help me?’
I gave my answer without hesitation.
‘Always, sire.’
25. Battle of Jaffa
We began our withdrawal from Jerusalem on 4 July 1192. Our column was not harassed by Saladin’s men, and we made rapid progress to the coast at Jaffa. By then, disappointment had turned to resignation within the ranks. Men started to think of home, and although there was bitter resentment at the attitude of King Philip and Prince John, the actions of fickle kings and princes had long since failed to surprise them.
Many of the men not directly loyal to the Lionheart started to disperse when we arrived in Jaffa, and he began to plan to send his own contingent home by sea from Acre. It took us less than three weeks to reach Acre, where we arrived on 22 July. The mood was sombre, both within our own ranks and among the citizens, but at least the Lionheart took some respite from his military responsibilities in being reunited with Berengere and Queen Joan.
To add more misery to the Lionheart’s gloom, urgent messages began to arrive in Acre within days. First came the news that Saladin’s reinforcements had arrived in Jerusalem, numbering many thousands of eastern Muslims from Persia and the distant realms beyond it. This information did offer some comfort, in that it confirmed that the King had been right to withdraw from an attack on Jerusalem. But there was nothing positive in the despatch that followed.
On 28 July, a huge Muslim army had launched an attack on Jaffa, with siege engines and assault troops. Although the citadel had been newly rebuilt to the King’s design and was formidable, the garrison was not large and would not be able to hold out for long. The King sprang into action; he summoned the Grand Quintet and the rest of the Christian commanders.
Once again, he was in his element, preparing and moving armies for war. And at his best, fighting them.
‘Gentlemen, I will crowd as many men on to the ships at anchor here in Acre as I can, and I will lead them in an attack from the beach at Jaffa to try to stall the Muslim siege. We must not lose the city; it would cut our coastal kingdom in two, and give Saladin a route to the sea. I will take my lords: William, Robert and Baldwin, and Sir Ranulf. Henry of Jerusalem will lead the rest of the army along the coast with the Templars and Hospitallers. Mercadier and Blondel will stay here in Acre to stiffen our defences should Saladin mount an attack in the north.’
It was left to Robert de Sable, Master of the Templars, to query the obvious omission at our gathering.
‘What of the Duke of Burgundy, and the French?’
‘He came to see me last night. He has refused to join us and is returning home. He has been summoned to Paris by King Philip.’
William Marshal was puce with anger.
‘But you gave him almost a third of the spoils from the Mamluks in the desert.’
The Lionheart smiled sardonically.
‘That’s the French for you. But worry not, I will have my day with him, and with Philip Augustus. If not here, then in Europe.’
Despite adverse winds, our Pisan and Genoese ships transported us down the coast to Jaffa with remarkable speed. We had our first sight of the city at dawn on 1 August. It presented a worrying scene; there were numerous fires in the city and, as the light improved, we could see Muslim standards flying from the buildings. It seemed that we were too late.
The King ran to the prow of the boat and peered towards the shore.
‘The citadel holds! There is no green flag on its pole, it flies the Three Lions. Prepare for a landing!’
Amidst the smoke from the many fires, it was difficult to see if the Lionheart was right, but few would dispute his notoriously keen eyesight. Then a courageous soul came into view. He was a Breton sergeant who had been lowered down the wall of the citadel, and had then swum out to us.
He was exhausted when we hauled him aboard, but he brought good news, if tinged with sadness. The Muslim catapults had breached the walls of the city, which had been burned and looted. Many inhabitants had been killed, but the citadel had held – just.
The King repeated his order to make a landing, and our captains turned our ships towards the shore. Our blood-red sails, the Lionheart’s distinctive colour, billowed in a strong westerly wind from the far Mediterranean, and the ships lurched violently towards the shore. Once again, our arbalests were invaluable in covering our disembarkation and protecting our men against the Muslim archers. The ships could only approach to a point about fifty feet from the beach, for fear of running aground, which meant that we had to wade through deep water to make it to dry land.
The Lionheart shouted his commands as loudly as possible.
‘Take off your maille; let’s get ashore before the Muslims can form a line of defence.’
We helped one another pull off our hauberks and, within moments, the King was the first into the water, only pausing to help me get to my feet – something that was not easy with only one arm. He was also the first to put his feet on dry land. The rising sun from the east was in our faces and I could see him only in silhouette, running like a deer. The bright early-morning sun picked us out against the horizon, making us easy targets.
I looked around and saw men coming ashore in considerable numbers. William Marshal was nearby, with several Templars to my left and Hospitallers to my right. It was a comforting sight to see so many seasoned
