As the author explains, his purpose in this book is to present a history of Palestine and Syria in the twelfth century, when the region was subjected to one of the many invasions that it has experienced during its turbulent history, that of the crusaders from western Europe. The structure of the book is largely chronological, with an emphasis on political and military affairs. Social, economic, artistic and cultural matters are included at appropriate points in the narrative, rather than as discrete topics with chapters or sections of their own. Although the principal focus is naturally enough on the kingdom of Jerusalem, attention is also given to the principality of Antioch and the counties of Tripoli and Edessa; indeed, a feature of the book is the way in which the political and dynastic relationships between the different crusader ‘states’ – as well as those with the neighbouring Byzantine Empire – developed and changed through the course of the twelfth century. Another is the extensive use made of modern translations of Arabic and other oriental sources – and related scholarship – to provide a more balanced view of contemporary affairs than could be obtained from the western and Byzantine sources alone. The narrative is well-paced, authoritative, clear and generally free from glitches, though the potential pitfalls of this type of historical writing are illustrated by the unheralded appearance of Saladin (pp. 238ff) with no explanation of who he was or where he came from and by reference to an otherwise unidentified ‘Henry’ (p. 327), who should presumably be identified as the future German emperor, Henry vi.
Although narrative histories seem nowadays to be rather unfashionable – at least amongst professional historians – this book should nevertheless be welcomed by historians and students, including archaeologists and art historians, for providing a much-needed up-to-date chronological survey of the Crusader states, based on a deep understanding of the primary sources and incorporating the latest scholarship. For the twelfth century, the alternatives to which one might otherwise turn, such as Steven Runciman's History of the crusades, ii (Cambridge 1952), Kenneth Setton and Marshall Baldwin's History of the crusades, i (2nd edn Madison 1969), and Joshua Prawer's Histoire du royaume latin de Jérusalem, i (trans. G. Nahon, 2nd edn, Paris 1975), are all now rather dated, while other books on the crusades tend to be too general or too narrowly focused to provide a good overall chronological framework.
One difficulty with using this book as a reference work, however, is that it is not very easy to find one's way around it. No dates are included in the chapter headings and there are no subdivisions within chapters. Indeed, some of the chapter divisions seem themselves a little arbitrary; chapter iv, for example, runs straight on from the end of chapter iii. Furthermore the index, which ought to serve as another point of access, has only one level of subheadings and items such as ‘churches’ (fifty-five entries), ‘Jerusalem, kingdom’ (seventy-one) and ‘Byzantines, Byzantium’ (sixty-six) have no subheadings at all. The notes are extensive and informative but are relegated by the publisher to the end of the book, presumably so as not to confuse the ‘general reader’. The book also includes a number of maps and plans, all redrawn in a uniform style, as well as a selection of apposite photographs.
Inevitably, as in any book of this kind, a number of statements may be queried or subject to qualification. For example:
1. Not all of the twenty-one villages (casalia) granted by Duke Godfrey to the Holy Sepulchre would necessarily have been settled by Franks (pp. 17, 87); in fact we know of Frankish ‘new towns’ being established within the territories of only Bayt Suriq (Parva Mahumeria), al-Bira (Magna Mahumeria) and al-Ram, though a maison forte containing a first-floor chapel also existed in Baytuniya.
2. The rebuilding of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which William of Tyre credits to the Byzantine emperor Constantine ix Monomachus from 1048 onwards (p. 108), actually appears to have been already completed by the time of the visit of Nasir-i Khusraw in 1047. Furthermore, archaeological work by the Franciscans in the 1960s and 1970s revealed that the rebuilt rotunda was the same size as the original fourth-century one, the remains of which are incorporated in places up to the level of the gallery.
3. The principal church on the Mount of Olives was that of the Ascension, not the Resurrection (p. 110).
4. The prior and canons to whom King Fulk granted al-Tuqu’ in exchange for Bethany (p. 158) were those of the Holy Sepulchre itself, rather than Bethany.
5. The list of castles built in the 1130s and 1140s to inhibit Fatimid raids from Ascalon (pp. 162–3) should also include Latrun, which was founded by Count Rodrigo Gonzalez of Toledo in 1137–41 and granted to the Templars.
6. Ayla and al-'Aqaba (p. 163) are different names for the same place, but the castle of Ayla that Saladin captured in the winter of 1170–1 appears to have been located on Pharaoh's Island (Jazirat Fara'un). It seems unlikely, however, that the Franks established any permanent fortification in Ayla before the reign of Amalric.
7. According to his letter of July 1241, Richard of Cornwall had already completed the castle in Ascalon before leaving Palestine in May (p. 200). The castle itself was finished while the Frankish envoys were in Cairo finalising the treaty negotiated with al-Malik al-Salih Ayyub (30 Nov. 1240–7 Feb. 1241) and the ditch around it within a month after Easter (31 March–30 April 1241).
8. In the twelfth century it is unlikely to have been technically feasible to have moved the eleventh-century mosaic from the apse of the rotunda of the Holy Sepulchre into that of the new crusader choir (pp. 221–2), even if the two apses had been the same size and shape (which they evidently were not). More probably the twelfth-century mosaic was a new creation, albeit very likely incorporating glass tesserae from the old one.
9. Mons Gisardi (p. 271) should be identified as Tall al-Jazar (ancient Gezer), near Ramla, rather than Tall al-Safiya (Blanchegarde).
10. According to William of Tyre, in 1183 the Muslims did sack the Greek monastery of St Elias on Mount Tabor (p. 281), but failed to get into the Latin one.
11. The castle of St Job lay some distance from Jerusalem (p. 299), being located just south of Janin, near the boundary between the lordships of Galilee and Nablus.
12. In the Hattin campaign, the Templars would presumably have been attacked by Saladin's forces ‘from’ rather than ‘on’ Kafr Sabt (p. 302), as the latter is a village (not a hill) lying some 6 km south-east of where the Templars should have been. Map 18 (p. 305) also misplaces the spring of the Cresson, which should be just south of the road on the south-eastern side of the watershed.
13. The narrative abandons the body of Frederick i in Tarsus (p. 328). From there it was taken to Antioch, where the flesh was removed and buried in the cathedral church of St Peter; the bones were then carried towards Jerusalem as far as Tyre, where they appear to have been buried in the Hospitallers' church of St John the Baptist.
14. It now appears that the eastern wall of Acre lay only about 350 metres from the foot of Tall al-Fukhkhar and also enclosed ‘Ayn al-Baqar (pp. 330–1).
Finally is it not entirely clear why the book ends in 1192. The battle of Hattin (1187) and Saladin's conquests effectively marked the end of the ‘first’ kingdom of Jerusalem and might perhaps have made a more satisfactory conclusion to the book than the treaty of Jaffa (1192), which arguably marked the beginning of its successor. As the reconstituted kingdom of Jerusalem was to continue in existence for another century and the principality of Antioch and county of Tripoli for almost as long, are we to expect a second volume in due course?
