Rebels Against Tyranny
Rebels Against Tyranny
Rebels Against Tyranny: Civil War in the Crusader States
Copyright © 2018 Helena P. Schrader. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or retransmitted in any form or by any means without the written permission of the publisher.
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ISBN: 978-1-62787-624-7 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-1-62787-625-4 (ebook)
LCCN: 2018946096
Contents
Introduction and Acknowledgments
Genealogical Charts
Royal House of Cypress
House of Jerusalem in the early 13th Century
House of Ibelin in the 12th Century
House of Ibelin in the early 13th Century
Maps
Map of Cyprus
Map of Outremer at the Start of the 13th Century
Cast of Characters
Part I: The Seeds of Civil War
1 A Fateful Fall
2 Of Alliances and Liaisons
3 Rival Regents for a Crowned King
Part II: The Women of Outremer
4 Death of an Empress
5 A Messenger from Cyprus
6 Escape from the Harem
7 Cousins
8 The Island of Calypso
9 Return to Beirut
10 Aphrodite in Acre
11 Trial by Combat
Part III: The Curious Crusade of Frederick Hohenstaufen 1228-1229
12 The Overlord of Cyprus
13 The Justice of the Emperor
14 Teutonic Knights to the Rescue
15 A False Truce
16 Winds of Change
17 Dealing with the Enemy
18 The Emperor’s Peace
19 The God of Love
20 Emperor in Jerusalem
21 Farewell to Acre
Part IV: The Right of Self-Defense
22 Cyprus under the New Regime
23 Of Family, Friends, and Foes
24 Return of the Ibelins
25 The Battle of Nicosia
26 Aftershocks of a Battle
27 The Invincible Heights
28 Amnesty
Epilogue
Historical Notes
Glossary
Also by Helena P. Schrader
Introduction and Acknowledgments
NOT MUCH HISTORICAL FICTION HAS BEEN written about the crusades of the 13th century, much less life in the crusader states during this period. The Sixth Crusade, if mentioned at all, is usually condensed to the bloodless return of Jerusalem to Christian control. The inherent flaws in Frederick II’s treaty—the short duration of the truce, the prohibitions on Christian fortifications, the legal impediments to the treaty—are ignored or glossed over. Likewise, Frederick II Hohenstaufen is more often depicted as a monarch ahead of his time, even as a “genius” and a man of “exceptional tolerance,” without acknowledging that many of his contemporaries considered him a tyrant.
From the 15th to the early 20th century, popular adulation of absolutism and central authority transformed Frederick into the embodiment of “good government;” the fact that he ran roughshod over the law and arbitrarily exercised his authority was largely ignored or justified. Contempt for feudalism (a dogma of the Enlightenment) and hatred of the papacy (a dogma of the Reformation) combined to discredit Frederick’s opponents in the eyes of historians. Particularly German scholars of the 19th and early 20th century sought to create a glorious “German Emperor” to incarnate all the Germanic virtues then in vogue.
While Frederick’s struggle with the papacy is legendary, his defeat at the hands of his own barons in the crusader kingdoms of Jerusalem and Cyprus is familiar only to historians of the 13thcentury Latin East. Yet the history of the baronial revolt against Frederick II offers all the ingredients of first-rate historical fiction. On the one side there is the legendary and colorful Emperor—the man who called himself “the Wonder of the World”—and on the other side a cast of rebels, who were also scholars and intellectuals, poets and patrons of the arts.
The men of Outremer who opposed Frederick II left an impressive legacy of intellectual accomplishments. They were the authors of histories, poetry, and works of philosophy, although they are most famous today for their outstanding contributions to medieval jurisprudence. The renowned crusades historian Jonathan Riley-Smith goes so far as to claim: “Perhaps the greatest monument to the western settlers in Palestine, finer even than the cathedrals and castles still dominating the landscape, is the law-book of John of Jaffa, which…is one of the great works of thirteenth-century thought.” (Riley-Smith, Jonathan. The Feudal Nobility and the Kingdom of Jerusalem 1174 – 1277. Macmillan Press, 1973, p. 230.)
Furthermore, the issues at stake remain relevant today: how much central power is necessary for the good of a state? Does “raison d’etat” justify dishonor and treachery? When does a citizen have the right to defend himself against tyranny? At what point is forgiveness and reconciliation the wisest action—regardless of the crimes committed? When is trust constructive—and when is it dangerously naïve?
After deciding to write a novel (or more) about this fascinating chapter in human history, the question became which of a large cast of historical figures should I put at the center of my fictional work. Three major historical personalities offered themselves.
John d’Ibelin, the “Old” Lord of Beirut: the original leader of the baronial opposition. A man of moderation and wisdom, Beirut enjoyed huge respect among his contemporaries. He was, furthermore, the youthful hero of The Last Crusader Kingdom. However, he died before the final victory of the baronial revolt. Furthermore, as a wise and elderly widower, even at the start of the revolt, he wasn’t ideal for developing drama and romance.
John d’Ibelin, Count of Jaffa: the author of the book praised so highly by Riley-Smith (see above). In the later 13th century, Jaffa was an important personality, who took part in King Louis’ crusade, rebuilt Jaffa from ruins, and was a prolific writer. A colorful character who carried on a notorious, illicit love affair later in life, he had all the qualities of a great fictional hero, but unfortunately, he was born a little too late to be a major actor in the early phases of the baronial revolt at the heart of my novel(s).
Philip de Novare: the author of the most detailed contemporary account of the revolt, The Wars of Frederick II against the Ibelins in Syria and Cyprus. Philip was a vassal of the Ibelins and unabashedly biased in favor of his patrons. He was a poet, singer, historian, and jurist as well—and this was what disqualified him for my hero: he left a far too comprehensive legacy to give me sufficient leeway as a novelist to mold him to my purposes.
So, rather than choosing any of the above for my central protagonist, I chose a character at the very center of the revolt, a man whose adult life spanned the entire crisis, his knighting (coming of age) and death bracketing the historical events depicted. He is a man who, according to Novare, distinguished himself in the fighting, defied an archbishop and his father to marry the woman he loved and won the final victory against the Emperor. Yet, almost the exception among his peers, he did not leave a written legacy that reveals his character, attitudes, and temperament. In short, he was enough of a blank page—despite the intriguing hints left by Novare—to be malleable for literary purposes. The only serious disadvantage to making him my central protagonist was that he bears the same name (indeed was named for) the hero of my Jerusalem Trilogy: Balian d’Ibelin. He was the eldest son and heir of the “Old Lord of Beirut,” a grandson of the defender of Jerusalem, and succeeded to the title of Lor
d of Beirut on his father’s death.
Having selected my male hero, the heroine was predetermined by history: she could only be the woman that Balian II defied the church and his father to marry. Even less is known about her than about Balian II. We know her family heritage, that she was widowed early, and that she actively, at one point decisively, took part in the baronial revolt. That seemed enough material, however, to give me a strong character.
Around these two central characters are grouped the rest of the historical cast: Frederick Hohenstaufen and his five deputies (the baillies of Cyprus), King Henry of Cyprus, Balian’s father, brothers, sister and cousins, and Philip of Novare himself. I hope that you will find them an appealing, intriguing, and compelling cast of characters, some delightful and some despicable, but all believable and complex.
I wish to take this opportunity to thank my editor Christopher Cervelloni for his sensitive and meticulous editing of my sometimes erratic text, and Mikhail Greuli for his magnificent cover. To meet my demands for a cover that looked like something from a medieval manuscript, Mikhail had to develop an entirely new style, for which I am sincerely grateful.
Addis Ababa,
April 28, 2018
Royal House of Cyprus
House of Jerusalem in the Early 13th Century
The House of Ibelin in the 12th Century
The House of Ibelin in the Early 13th Century
Map of Cyprus
Map of Outremer at the Start of the 13th Century
Cast of Characters
Historical figures are in bold;
characters who appear twice are marked by an *;
dates in italics are estimates.
House of Ibelin
John, Lord of Beirut, formerly Constable and Regent of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, b. 1179, son of Balian d’Ibelin and Maria Comnena, Dowager Queen of Jerusalem.
Balian II, Beirut’s eldest son and heir, b.1207
Baldwin, Beirut’s second son, b. 1208
Hugh, Beirut’s third son, b. 1209
Isabella “Bella,” Beirut’s only daughter, b.1211
John “Johnny,” Beirut’s fourth son, b. 1215
Guy, Beirut’s fifth son, b. 1217
Philip, Beirut’s brother, Regent of Cyprus 1218-1228, b. 1182
Alys de Montbéliard, Philip’s wife, sister of Walter de Montbéliard (Regent of Cyprus from 1205-1210).
John “Jacques” son of Philip and Alys, b. 1215.
Maria, daughter of Philip d’Ibelin and Alys de Montbéliard, b. 1217
Marguerite “Meg,”* Lady of Caesarea (2nd marriage), formerly Lady of Tiberias, sister of John (the elder) and Philip d’Ibelin, b. 1181.
Royalty
Frederick II Hohenstaufen, “The Wonder of the World” or “Stupor Mundi,” Holy Roman Emperor, King of the Romans, King of Sicily, son of Henry VI Hohenstaufen and grandson of Frederick “Barbarossa,” husband to Yolanda of Jerusalem, and through her King of Jerusalem, 1225-1228, b. 1194.
Henry I, King of Cyprus 1218–1253, son of Hugh I and his wife Alice de Champagne, b. May 3, 1218.
Yolanda (also Isabella II), Queen of Jerusalem, daughter of John de Brienne and Marie de Montferrat, born November 1212, wife of Frederick Hohenstaufen and through him Empress of the Holy Roman Empire.
The Imperial Baillies of Cyprus
Amaury Barlais, son of Reynald Barlais, one of the five baillies of Cyprus appointed by Frederick II.
Gauvain de Cheneché, son of Galganus de Cheneché, one of the five baillies of Cyprus appointed by Frederick II.
Amaury “Grimbert” de Bethsan, son of Walter de Bethsan, one of the five baillies of Cyprus appointed by Frederick II; the name “Grimbert” was given him by Novare in his songs, and to avoid two Amaurys (both baillies of Cyprus at the same time) I have substituted “Grimbert” for “Amaury” throughout.
William de Rivet, son of Amaury de Rivet, one of the five baillies of Cyprus appointed by Frederick II.
Hugh de Gibelet, one of the five baillies of Cyprus appointed by Frederick II. (Sometimes also referred to as Hugh de Jubail.)
Other Barons and Ladies of Outremer
Eudes de Montbéliard, Constable and Baillie of Jerusalem, son of Walter de Montbéliard the former Regent of Cyprus and Burgundia de Lusignan the sister of King Hugh I, b. 1201.
Eschiva de Montbéliard, sister of Eudes, daughter of Walter de Montbéliard and Burgundia of Lusignan, first cousin to King Henry I, b.1210.
Balian de Sidon, Lord of Sidon, son of Reginald de Sidon and Helvis d’Ibelin, Beirut’s elder sister, b. 1195. Renowned jurist, Baillie of the Kingdom of Jerusalem for Frederick Hohenstaufen.
Walter “the elder” of Caesarea, Lord of Caesarea, Constable of Cyprus, second husband of Margaret d’Ibelin, Beirut’s sister.
Marguerite “Meg” d’Ibelin*, his wife and Beirut’s sister, b.1181.
Walter “the younger” of Caesarea, eldest son and heir to the Lord of Caesarea, son of Walter and Meg d’Ibelin.
Anseau de Brie, “the Lion (or Leopard) of Karpas,” b. 1184, a grandson of Balian I’s half-sister—either Ermengard or Stephanie—and so a cousin of Beirut
Gerard de Montaigu, nephew of the Masters of the Temple and Hospital and the Archbishop of Nicosia.
Philip de Novare, a vassal of the Ibelins, friend of Balian II, later chronicler, historian and legal expert.
Lords of the Church
Pedro de Montaigu, Master of Knights Templar, 1219-1230
Guerin de Montaigu, Master of the Knights Hospitaller (brother of Pedro), 1207–1236.
Eustace de Montaigu, Archbishop of Nicosia 1217-1250, brother of Pedro and Guerin.
Herman von Salza, Master of the Deutsche Ritter Orden, 1210-1239
Gunther von Falkenhayn, Marshal of the Deutsche Ritter Orden, 1228-1230 (Only his first name is recorded, I have added the Falkenhayn)
Iago, Archbishop of Capua
Ibelin Household
Denis, Seneschal of Beirut Citadel
Denise, his daughter
“Rob” de Maumeni, Balian’s squire, later Sir Robert de Maumeni
Eudes “Lucas” de la Fierté, Balian’s squire
Genoese
Hugh di Ferrario, Consul of the Genoese of Cyprus
Paulo, his son
Florio Sanuto, Consul of the Genoese Commune in Acre
Giovanni Gabriele, a spice merchant in Acre
Cecilia, his only daughter
Captain Maurizio di Domenico, Captain of the Rose of Acre
Others
André, Philip de Novare’s squire
Ullrich von Alvensleben, a Templar of German origin
Gebhard von Salder, a Templar of German origin
Sir Rohard, Seneschal of the Lusignan manor at Vouno
Father Ernesius, a Templar priest
Part I
The Seeds of Civil War
Chapter One
A Fateful Fall
Limassol, Cyprus
May 18, 1224
“PHILIP, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” A young, male voice called out anxiously.
Sir Philip of Novare couldn’t see the owner of the voice because his squire was trying to pry his misshapen great helm off his head—without taking half his face off with it. Philip had just lost a “friendly” joust. Although his opponent had used only a blunted mace, he’d still managed to bash in the side of Philip’s helm.
Philip was sweating profusely, as much from increasing panic as the heat of a Cypriot summer day. The air inside the helm seemed to grow thinner and thinner as his squire Andre twisted the metal pot to try to maneuver it past Philip’s chin. The pounding of his blood in his temples and the rasping of his breath seemed to echo inside the helmet, blotting out most other sounds. He could barely hear Andre answer the newcomer in an anxious, frightened voice. “I can’t get the helm off, sir.”
“Let me try,” the voice answered, coming nearer. “It’s me. Balian.”
“I can hardly breathe anymore, Bal,” Philip g
asped.
Firm hands grasped the helmet, and a moment later the air flooded back into Philip’s lungs like a fresh breeze. Balian had twisted the helm so that both the eye slit and breathing holes were in position again. Their eyes met, and Philip could see the concern and question in Balian’s eyes.
“I’m fine—if I could just get this damned thing off!” Philip assured his friend.
Balian and he had just spent the last three years earning their spurs together. Yesterday, in an extravagant ceremony, they had been knighted by Balian’s father, the powerful Lord of Beirut, along with Balian’s younger brother Baldwin and five other youths. Today’s jousting was part of the three-day celebration, which would culminate in a full-scale melee pitting the barons and knights of Syria against those of Cyprus.
Balian was already seventeen and had long felt ready for the accolade of knighthood. Philip knew that Balian was both wounded and resentful that his father had delayed his knighting so long—and then knighted his fourteen-month-younger brother at the same time. Being so close in age, the brothers had always been rivals, but the intensity of their competition was aggravated by the fact that they were very different in temperament. Baldwin was like water to Balian’s fire—and took pleasure in dousing Balian’s enthusiasm and pride. Balian’s need to prove himself better than Baldwin in front of all the peers of the realm had provoked him into taking stupid risks this morning. Fortunately, he’d gotten away with them and ridden undefeated from the lists.
Under the circumstances, Philip thought, he might have been forgiven for basking in his hard-won glory and gloating a bit instead of coming down into the dusty tent-city to find out what had happened to his friend. After all, in addition to practically every baron and knight of Outremer, there were scores of ladies and maidens in the stands. Balian had the kind of good looks that appealed to women. By the way the maidens had been biting their fingernails at Balian’s near falls and cheering his successes, Philip could imagine all too vividly the way Balian would be adulated and adored by blushing young beauties the moment he joined the spectators. Instead, Balian hadn’t even taken the time to change out of his sweat-soaked gambeson and dusty surcoat.