The significance of Arsuf

The Battle of Arsuf has long been regarded as a historic crusader triumph. In seeking to construct an image of Richard I as the monumental hero of the holy war, Ambroise presented this engagement as a critical setpiece confrontation between the Lionheart and Saladin–an encounter that Richard actively sought, and one in which he achieved a resounding victory. This account of Arsuf has been widely accepted and Richard’s success on 7 September 1191 has become one of the cornerstones of his martial reputation. Jean Flori, a recent biographer of the Lionheart, asserted that the battle revealed the king’s ‘skill in the “science of war”’, adding that it ‘was fought on Richard’s terms’, with the Angevin monarch having ‘already drawn up his army in battle order’.⁷⁹

In truth, the reconstruction of medieval battles is a phenomenally imprecise business and Richard’s intentions cannot be defined with absolute certainty. On balance, though, the evidence makes it at least as likely that Richard did not want to fight a major battle at Arsuf. He may well have expected a Muslim attack on 7 September, but he seems to have remained focused upon his primary objective–reaching the proposed campsite at Arsuf and then continuing on to Jaffa. In the event, when the crusader rearguard broke ranks to launch an attack, the Lionheart’s swift, resolute and valiant response did avert disaster, ultimately securing an opportunistic, but morale-boosting, victory. Crucially, his generalship was reactive, not proactive.

At the time, King Richard did not claim to have planned the battle–that notion seems only to have taken hold in the aftermath of the Third Crusade–but his letter of 1 October did state that the Muslims were badly stung at Arsuf. It declared:

The slaughter among Saladin’s more noble Saracens was so great, that he lost more on that day near Arsuf [than] on any day in the previous forty years…[Ever since] that day, Saladin has not dared do battle with the Christians. Instead he lies in wait at a distance, out of sight like a lion in his den, [waiting to kill] the friends of the cross like sheep.

Arabic sources acknowledged that the Ayyubids suffered a damaging defeat at Arsuf. Baha al-Din, who witnessed the battle, recorded that many ‘met a martyr’s death’ and admitted that, although al-Adil and al-Afdal fought well, the latter was ‘shaken by this day’. In real terms, though, Muslim manpower losses were by no means decisive–Saladin had been beaten from the field, but the holy war would go on. Within days the sultan was writing to his ‘far-flung territories’ requesting reinforcements. The telling damage, just as at Acre, was psychological. As Saladin struggled to reimpose control over his armies, his ‘heart’ was said to be ‘full of feelings that God alone could know [and] the troops too were either wounded in the body or wounded in the heart’. The sultan’s correspondence from this period strove to present a positive account of events, declaring that Muslim attacks had slowed the Frankish advance to such an extent that they took seventeen days over a two-day journey and celebrating the slaying of ‘Sir Jak’ (James of Avesnes). Even so, the truth of the matter could hardly be concealed. Once again, Saladin had tried and failed to stop the Third Crusade in its tracks.⁸⁰

On 9 September 1191 the Franks resumed their march, reaching the River Arsuf without much difficulty. The next day, Richard arrived outside the ruins of Jaffa–the walls of the port town having been demolished on Saladin’s orders in autumn 1190. Such was the devastation that the whole Latin army had to be quartered in the surrounding olive groves and gardens, but the crusaders rejoiced to find a great abundance of food, including grapes, figs, pomegranates and almonds. Before long, Christian ships began to arrive, ferrying supplies from Acre, and a defensible position was established on the Palestinian coast. Richard the Lionheart had led the Third Crusade to the brink of victory and Jerusalem now lay just over forty miles inland.

17

JERUSALEM

In late summer 1191 King Richard I of England prosecuted a remarkably controlled, ruthlessly efficient march south from Acre to Jaffa, subjecting Saladin to a humiliating, if not crushing, defeat along the way. Since his arrival in the Holy Land, the Lionheart had galvanised the Third Crusade; no longer mired and inert in the northern reaches of Palestine, the expedition now seemed poised on the threshold of victory. Success depended on momentum–only immediate and resolute action would preserve the brittle Frankish coalition and maintain pressure on a faltering enemy. But just when focused commitment to a clear military goal was needed, Richard hesitated.

DECISIONS AND DECEPTIONS

Around 12 September 1191, just a few days after reaching Jaffa, worrying reports from the south began filtering into the crusader camp. Saladin, it was said, had moved on Ascalon and even now was razing the Muslim-held port to the ground. With these rumours stirring up a mixture of incredulity, horror and suspicion, the king dispatched Geoffrey of Lusignan (who had now been appointed titular count of the region) and the trusted knight William of L’Estang to investigate. Sailing south, they soon caught sight of the city, and, as they drew closer, a scene of appalling devastation revealed itself. Ascalon was awash with flame and smoke, its terrified populace streaming away in forced evacuation while the sultan’s men swarmed over the port’s mighty defences, ripping wall and tower asunder.

This grave spectacle was the product of Saladin’s newly resolute approach to the war. Still smarting from his humiliating defeat at Arsuf, the sultan had assembled his counsellors at Ramla on 10 September to re-evaluate Ayyubid strategy. Having tried and failed to confront the crusaders head-on during their march south from Acre, Saladin decided to adopt a more defensive approach. If Richard could not be crushed in open battle, then drastic steps would be taken to halt his advance–a scorched-earth policy to hamper Frankish movement, involving the destruction of key fortresses. The critical target was Ascalon, southern Palestine’s main port and the stepping stone to Egypt. If the Franks captured the city intact then the Lionheart would have the perfect bridgehead from which to threaten Jerusalem and the Nile region. Saladin realised that he lacked the resources to fight a war on two fronts and, prioritising the protection of the Holy City, ordered that Ascalon’s walls be razed to the ground. This cannot have been an easy decision–the sultan was said to have remarked, ‘by God I would prefer to lose all my sons rather than demolish a single stone’–but it was necessary. Time was pressing, for if Richard marched on he might yet seize the port. Saladin therefore sent al-Adil to watch over the crusaders at Jaffa, and then raced south with al-Afdal to oversee the dreadful labour, driving his soldiers to work at a furious pace, day and night, fearful of the Lionheart’s arrival.⁸¹

When Geoffrey and William brought news of what they had seen to Jaffa, King Richard still had a chance to act. Throughout the late summer he had been deliberately evasive about his objectives, but now a definite decision had to be made. To the Lionheart, the choice seemed clear: the seizure of Ascalon was the logical next step for the crusade. As a general he recognised that, to date, the expedition’s achievements had been dependent upon naval superiority. While the crusade continued to hug the coastline, Latin domination of the Mediterranean could stave off isolation and annihilation by offering a lifeline of supply and reinforcement. So far, the Christians had not truly fought the Third Crusade in enemy territory; once they marched inland, the real battle would begin. Ascalon’s seizure and refortification promised to destabilise further Saladin’s hold over Palestine, creating a secure coastal enclave, while keeping Richard’s options open for an eventual assault on Jerusalem or Egypt.