It’s easy
for novelists to fall into the cliché because one of the surviving primary sources,
Itinerarium Peregrinorum et Gesta Regis Ricardi, delights in heaping
abuse on the man who dared to defy Richard the Lionheart. The Montferrat of
English legend, therefore, was a man who shot a cross-bow at his own father,
killed his doctors, abducted a princess, bribed bishops, intentionally withheld
food from crusaders, undermined all efforts by Richard of England to defeat
Saladin, and finally met his just end at the hands of an assassin. It would
have been easy to follow the tradition of making Montferrat into a sort of
medieval Darth Vader.
But I don’t
like cartoon characters in my novels. I wanted a more nuanced and
comprehensible man for my books. Turning to less biased, particularly German
sources, I discovered what I was looking for: a man of “many parts” with a
wealth of positive characteristics and achievements to balance the negative
portrayal of the Itinerarium.
Conrad de
Montferrat, born about 1145, was a first cousin of Emperor Friedrich Barbarossa
and of the French King. His older brother, William, married Sibylla of
Jerusalem. Conrad’s younger brother, Rainier married Maria Comnena, the
daughter of Emperor Manuel I. In short, Conrad de Monteferrat was closely
related to the Holy Roman Emperor, the Emperor of the Eastern Roman (Byzantine)
Empire, the King of France, and the ruling Queen of Jerusalem. Conrad de
Montferrat was not — as some modern novelists would have you believe — an
“adventurer” or a parvenu.
Furthermore,
Conrad was a very well-educated, well-traveled and militarily experienced
nobleman. He supported his father in his wars and in 1179 prominently defeated
the forces of the Holy Roman Emperor taking the Imperial chancellor captive. He
subsequently went to Constantinople, where he was greatly admired for his good
looks, charm and military prowess. Although he wisely departed Constantinople
after Emperor Manuel I's death -- and shortly before his younger brother and
sister-in-law were murdered by the usurping Emperor Andronicus, at the
invitation of Emperor Isaac Angelus Conrad returned in 1186 to marry the
Emperor’s sister Theodora. Conrad was raised to the rank of “Caesar,” and
put down a rebellion led by the popular general Alexios Branas in a battle where
he demonstrated exceptional personal courage. His success led his
brother-in-law to look on him with jealousy and suspicion, however, and Conrad soon
feared for his life (his brother, after all, had been murdered in
Constantinople only five years earlier). He fled Constantinople, and took ship for the Kingdom of
Jerusalem, arriving there only days after the catastrophe of Hattin.
Conrad sailed
into the harbor at Tyre
when it
was already invested by land by the Sultan’s army. Negotiations for the
surrender were allegedly already underway, whether as a ruse or in earnest.
Conrad immediately and forcefully advocated defiance. With so many other cities
ripe for surrender, Saladin chose not to fight for Tyre, but withdrew to
capture Sidon, Beirut, Caesarea, Jaffa, etc. Meanwhile, the people of Tyre,
which included not only the usual residents but the survivors of Hattin and
refuges from across the north of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, swore allegiance to Montferrat.
When
Saladin returned to finish off Tyre in November 1187, he brought with him
Conrad’s father, the aging Marquis de Montferrat, who had fought and been taken
captive at Hattin. Saladin offered to release the Marquis in exchange for the
surrender of Tyre. The chronicles tell a dramatic tale in which Conrad
pointedly refused the deal, saying his father had “lived long enough already”
and fired a crossbow in his direction (probably intended to miss or to kill one
of his Saracen escort). Much has been made of this as proof of Conrad’s perfidy
or callousness. Yet, the chronicles
agree that Conrad’s father called out something to the effect of “well done”
when Conrad refused to surrender. The old Marquis of Montferrat, who had fought
long and hard for the Holy Land, did not want to see the last remaining bastion
of the kingdom surrendered. I found myself liking Conrad for his iron nerves!
In
addition to the old Marquis, Saladin had brought another means for reducing the
city: the Egyptian fleet. Tyre was now truly besieged and crammed as it was
with refugees and cut off from resupply the situation rapidly became critical. Montferrat
devised a trick: he led the enemy to believe that people were rioting and some
of the wealthier residents were going to attempt a breakout. The chain across
the harbor entrance was lowered as if to let the ships escape. The
Saracens took the bait. They shot into the harbor, thinking they were about to
take the city by the back door. Instead, they found themselves attacked by the
Pisan vessels in the harbor and fired on from the surrounding walls, towers and
buildings. The very next day, January 1, 1188, Saladin ordered his army to
disperse and withdrew.
All of
the above reflects well on Conrad de Montferrat’s capabilities as a determined,
resourceful, and clever commander. But it was his political actions that
generally draw approbation and they started a year and a half later when, out
of the north, a small Frankish army led by none other than the architect of the
disaster at Hattin, Guy de Lusignan, appeared before the gates of Tyre. King
Guy ordered the gates of the last free city of his kingdom opened to him. Conrad
de Montferrat refused. Again, I can’t say that I blame him.
Guy continued
south to lay siege to Acre, which was now held by a Saracen garrison. Thus,
when the crusaders started to arrive in increasing numbers in 1190 and 1191 most
of them joined the siege of Acre because it was the only active fighting
available. While this should have increased Guy de Lusignan’s stature, in fact,
the arriving contingents of troops tended to recognize their own leaders rather
than Guy. Then in November 1190 Guy’s position was fatally undermined by the
death of his wife and both his daughters. Guy, always unpopular, widely viewed
by the barons of Jerusalem as a usurper, and discredited by Hattin, lost his
last vestige of legitimacy with his wife’s death. The High Court of Jerusalem
recognized Sibylla’s younger sister Isabella as the rightful ruler of Jerusalem
after Sibylla’s death.
Only
there was a problem. The Constitution of Jerusalem recognized the rights of
women to rule in their own right, but only if they had a male consort capable
of leading the army of Jerusalem. Isabella’s husband Humphrey de Toron had already
betrayed the High Court when the High Court was trying to oppose Guy’s
usurpation of the throne in 1186. The High Court was not prepared to recognize
Humphrey as king. That meant that Isabella had to be separated from him and
married to a man more acceptable to the barons of Jerusalem. The details of
this are described in The Abduction of Isabella. For now suffice it to
say that Conrad was the man they chose.
The Itinerarium
and most subsequent sources portray Conrad as the driving force behind his
marriage to Isabella. He is described as scheming and bribing, as unscrupulous
and duplicitous. These portrayals, however, completely ignore the essential
fact that it was the High Court of Jerusalem that decided on the marriage of a
female heir and the fact that the High Court consistently supported Conrad over
Guy. The overblown outrage of the chronicles likewise obscures the plain fact
that Isabella was below the age of consent at the time of her marriage to
Humphrey (she was 11) and the marriage was without question invalid according
to contemporary canon law. While it is also highly probable that Conrad was
ambitious and coveted the crown, it is absurd to portray his marriage to
Isabella as a travesty of justice or an act of moral depravity. In my novel,
therefore, I emphasize the role of the High Court, while nevertheless depicting
Conrad as very ambitious and eager to gain the favor of the High Court.
By the
time the Kings of France and England arrived in the Holy Land, there were two
rival claimants to the (largely fictional) throne of Jerusalem: 1) Conrad,
supported by the High Court and deriving his claim through the legitimate heir,
Isabella, and 2) Guy, clinging to the title he had from his now dead wife
because he’d been crowned and anointed. Their rivalry immediately became a
proxy war between Philip II of France, who backed his kinsman Conrad, and
Richard I of England, who backed his vassal Guy. Unfortunately for Conrad,
Philip II soon tired of crusading and sailed away, while Richard I remained and
recaptured much of the fertile coastal plain although he was unable to regain
Jerusalem. In my novels, it is this conflict that initially puts Balian and
Richard on opposing sides and so in conflict with one another.
During
the critical eleven months from October 1191 to September 1192, Richard I
periodically sought a negotiated settlement with Saladin. Not surprisingly,
Conrad feared that Richard would negotiate a deal that left him high and dry,
and so he tried to cut a deal of his own. This has been portrayed as the height
of infamy by the supporters of Richard, but it is hard to see why it was
legitimate for Richard to negotiate with Saladin but not for Conrad. Saladin,
meanwhile, had a strong interest in playing Conrad and Richard off against one
another and sowing dissension in the Frankish camp. However, it appears that
Conrad was so desperate (or determined) to get a little kingdom (or county) of
his own that he was prepared to fight his fellow Christians, and this seemed to
me very telling. Conrad was resourceful, brave, and clever, but he was also ruthlessly ambitious.
In
fashioning the Conrad de Montferrat of my novel Envoy of Jerusalem I
tried to do justice to him as a complex character full of charm, ambition,
talent -- and opportunism. I believe he would have used his charm very
judiciously and intelligently to win over the heiress of Jerusalem – even before
the succession crisis. She was after all, a guest in “his” city of Tyre, which
makes my version of events diverge from the usual portrayal of Isabella as abducted
and abused by a man she hates. His ambition and talent are depicted in his
defense of Tyre, his refusal to admit Guy, and bid his for the crown. However, on the assumption that a man with so
many enemies was not always pleasant and congenial, I have also made him
arrogant, self-willed, immune to advice and at times unscrupulous.
The Conrad de Montferrat is a major character in Envoy of Jerusalem.
You and I might disagree on this point, Professor, but I believe a great many historians . . . lie.
ReplyDeleteHow so? They lie when they refer to themselves as being "unbiased." Most of them are not.
Too many view these men with a twenty-first century point of view. They just can't help themselves and are thus . . . bigoted.
I like your take on Conrad and find myself in ready agreement. Considering the "law" of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, and the "lawful rights" of the High Court, it was Richard who was in the wrong and "greedy for power" by insisting that his VASSAL be named King of Jerusalem. Richard could easily see himself as "over-lord" of the "Latin east."
I like Richard, but this is how I see it.