The Sixth Crusade that brings Jerusalem back

This is a story I was looking forward to telling for quite some time. It has everything – mindless fighting, stubbornness, and fake armies as well as elaborate diplomacy, cultural awareness and stunning success. It is the story of the crusade of Frederick II, that has no parallel, for one because Frederick did undertake it whilst excommunicated by the pope and further, because he brought Jerusalem back under Christian control for one last time, without a shot being fired. The latter had not been achieved since the First Crusade and will not happen again before modern times.

Transcript

Hello and welcome to the History of the Germans: Episode 78 – A Crusade without Crusaders

This is the second recording of this episode. I don’t do that very often, but this time I had to. The previous version sounded incredibly rushed and there was a mistake in it. I kept saying the year 1217 when I meant 1227. So I did it all again. If you have listened to the previous version and did not abandon the podcast, thank you. If you gave up halfway through this version will be better. So without further ado – here we go.

This is a story I was looking forward to telling for quite some time. It has everything – mindless fighting, stubbornness, and fake armies as well as elaborate diplomacy, cultural awareness and stunning success. It is the story of the crusade of Frederick II, that has no parallel, for one because Frederick did undertake it whilst excommunicated by the pope and further, because he brought Jerusalem back under Christian control for one last time, without a shot being fired. The latter had not been achieved since the First Crusade and will not happen again before modern times.

Before we start just a reminder. The History of the Germans Podcast is advertising free thanks to the generous support from patrons. And you can become a patron too and enjoy exclusive bonus episodes and other privileges from the price of a latte per month. All you have to do is sign up at patreon.com/historyofthegermans or on my website historyofthegermans.com. You find all the links in the show notes. And thanks a lot to Christoph, Claire and Jaume who have already signed up.

We left off last episode with Frederick II’s magnificent coronation in Rome. This was the last step in a string of rituals that established his legitimacy as emperor. The price he had to pay for all this had however been steep. He had to

  • recognise the territorial gains the papacy had made in central Italy,
  • relinquish control of the imperial church,
  • vow to go on crusade and finally
  • promise not to seek a union between the empire and the kingdom of Sicily.

Given these heavy commitment Frederick does what his father and grandfather had done once they had been crowned by the pope, he instantly forgot all about them.

As for the union between Sicily and the empire, he had sort of finagled this already. He had made his son Henry first king of Sicily as had been requested by Innocent III.  And in step 2 he had then made the same child king of the Romans on the grounds that he was about to set off on crusade and the imperial princes had urged him to organise his succession. With that Henry was both king of Sicily and elected Holy Roman Emperor. But Henry being just 8 years-old, the de facto ruler of both Sicily and the Empire was Frederick II, and the pope could do nothing about that.

Frederick left the city of Rome 3 days after his coronation to go home. And home was the kingdom of Sicily. It was the kingdom of Sicily he really cared about. The imperial crown was something he took on, more to protect his beloved south than for any great ambition to exercise power north of the Alps. Nothing makes that clearer than the way he organised the administration of his domains. He himself would reside in Southern Italy for almost all of his remaining reign. He will journey north only when his presence there becomes absolutely mandatory. In total he will spend just 2 of his remaining 30 years on the throne in Germany. Germany he leaves for his son Henry  to rule, first under a regency council and once he has grown up, in his own right as king of the Romans.

Fredericks next few years from 1220 to 1228 are taken up by further tightening his hold over Southern Italy. You may remember that when he left in 1212 his position had been extremely precarious. Various factions had been fighting for domination of the kingdom. There were the German Ministeriales his father had brought over, then what remained of the former royal family, the descendants of the usurper Tancred plus the barons of Puglia, the cities of Pisa and Genoa, the Muslim inhabitants of the island and the chancellor Walter of Pagliara – all of them plotting and fighting.

It is nothing short of a miracle that when Frederick comes back in 1220 that there is a kingdom left there at all.  He can even call a royal assembly and pass a number of laws designed to rebuild royal power and reverse the Encastellation of his dominion.

How is that possible? I could not find much detail about what happened in the kingdom during the 8 years he was away in Germany. All we are told is that Frederick had put his queen, Constance of Aragon in charge as regent for his son. She was supposed to hold things together, a task he, as the legitimate heir to the throne had struggled with ever since he had been declared of age. Whatever Constance did, it must have been successful since the kingdom is in reasonable order, or at least had not risen up and chosen a new ruler. It seems to me that Constance of Aragon was a much more astute politician and administrator than sources give her credit for. Another one of those female medieval protagonists worth of further investigation.

Whether she was a competent ruler or not, she is unlikely to have enjoyed married life very much. Frederick II is the first of the medieval German emperors with a voracious sexual appetite. During their marriage he fathered six children with 4 different women, some daughters of aristocrats in Germany or Italy, others with less exalted lineage. How much is true of the stories that he maintained two fully equipped harems in his main residences and a mobile one that followed him on his journeys remains unclear. Papal propaganda has a habit of ascribing the seven deadly sins to emperors who fall foul of the church. In case of Frederick the accusations were Lust, Sloth and Pride. Ecclesiastical writers painting a picture of him as the Sultan of Lucera, living like an eastern potentate in a palace dripping with gold, surrounded by dancing girls and eunuchs.

Even if that was not the case, Constance could not count on the constancy of her husband. In 1222 she died and is buried in Palermo cathedral in a Roman marble sarcophagus once made for a man. The inscription says: Queen of Sicily was I, Constance, Wife and empress, now here I lie and am Frederick forever yours. Her treatment by Frederick sounds callous but is nothing compared to her successors in the marital bed.

In the 1220s Fredrick’s entire focus was on rebuilding the political institutions of his kingdom of Sicily. A kingdom that under his grandfather was famously tightly managed. We will spend most of the next episode discussing this in detail. What matters for today’s story is that lroblems in southern Italy left Frederick with little or no capacity to fulfil his pledge to go on crusade.

The prioritisation of domestic matters rubbed pope Honorius III up the wrong way. As I mentioned before, Pope Honorius III was a much more conciliatory man than his predecessor Innocent III. But there was one thing he really, really cared about, and that was the recovery of Jerusalem. And Frederick delaying and delaying his departure on crusade was not aiding that objective.

Let us take a quick look at where things stand in the Holy Land by 1217. Following the Third Crusade, which is the one with Barbarossa, Richard Lionheart and Philippe Auguste, the kingdom of Jerusalem had recovered to the point that it did hold a string of cities and fortifications along the coast of Palestine, Lebanon and Syria. The de facto capital was Akkon, modern day Acre just north of Haifa.

After the Third crusade not much progress was made. The 4th crusade was a dud as far as Jerusalem was concerned. Instead of aiding the beleaguered kingdom of Outre-Mer the crusaders had sacked Constantinople on behalf of their Venetian paymasters. That – if anything – made things worse since  the Byzantine empire fragmented into multiple smaller states, some like Constantinople and parts of Greece held by Latin crusaders and others by former Byzantine generals. None of them able to hold back the Seldjuk Turks.

Meanwhile the great Near eastern leader Saladin had consolidated his position. His empire now stretched from Eastern Turkey through Syria and Jordan to Egypt as well as along both shores of the Red Sea down to Yemen.

Simply put, the thin line of crusader cities was surrounded on all sides by one of the most powerful Muslim states ever created. A state that wants to drive them back into the sea at the first opportunity.

As a consequence, the Kingdom of Jerusalem was on a near permanent war footing. Everything was geared up to fight the next Muslim army that would come across the hill. The Knights Hospitallers and the Templars were the closest thing to a standing army the Middle Ages had produced. The military orders were garrisoned in some of  the largest military fortifications of the 13th century. Have a look at the Krak des Chevaliers in Syria which at its height held a force of 2000 knights and attendants. They were an important and independent voice at court since they were directly responsible to the pope, not the king. Then there are the great barons of the kingdom who had come with the First crusade. They owned large estates and strong castles manned by an ever-changing guard of crusaders from back home.  These soldiers would come down to Outre-Mer usually for a limited time period, a sort of chivalric gap year helping out the locals. The key difference was that they did not build schools for the locals but focused on burning down madrasas.

All that had made a lot easier since transport links between the west and Outre Mer had improved significantly. The maritime republics of Venice, Genoa and Pisa had established staging posts along the route to Akkon where ships could be repaired and victualed. Venice in particular had acquired a string of safe harbours along the Dalmatian coast and the Peloponnese as well as landing rights in Rhodes and Cyprus. Their galleys would travel back and forth, transporting crusaders east and returning with the luxury goods from Persia, India and China. The latter they would pick up not in Akkon, but in Alexandria where they had a factory, courtesy of that enemy of the crusaders, Saladin. Venetian merchants become immensely rich in the process.

The kingdom was held together by its titular king, John of Brienne, husband to Maria of Montferrat. John was a minor nobleman from Champagne and a respected military leader. The latter is why the magnates of the kingdom of Jerusalem had asked him to come and marry their queen. It was only through this marriage that he became king of Jerusalem. Formally he ruled only on behalf of first his wife and once she had died on behalf of his daughter, Isabella of Brienne.

This all sounds as if it was a well-oiled machine where new knights would arrive on a conveyer belt from the west, would be put to good use and then replaced with the next set of recruits. Nothing could be further from the truth. The supply of new recruits was extremely volatile. Often times the reinforcements would dwindle down to a mere trickle as conflicts like the civil war between the Welf and the Hohenstaufen or the incessant Anglo-French wars precluded many knights to undertake the journey. At other times, too many would show up, usually led by some mighty king or duke or prince with zero knowledge of the political, military and geographic conditions, keen on one glorious dash and a quick boat home. And the worst of all cases, several of these guys come at the same time and spend most of their efforts at outdoing and insulting each other.

With all that in mind Innocent III had called for a fifth crusade in 1216. Innocent III was convinced that as the true emperor of Christendom he had to lead the crusade in person. Not a completely stupid idea since he was at this point recognised as the superior overlord of all the princes in Europe. Even our Frederick called himself at that time “king by the grace of god and the will of the pope”. With Innocent in the lead there was no risk the Venetians would again turn the crusaders into their private mercenary army.

But the great papal-led crusade never happened because Innocent III died unexpectedly just 55 years-old in 1216. His successor Honorius III was much too old to undertake such a dangerous journey himself.

Hence the fifth crusade ended up with a more familiar setup. King Andrew of Hungary and duke Leopold of Austria were the military leaders at the outset. Honorius dispatched a papal legate as his representative who was to ensure the crusade stayed on the straight and narrow, laser focused on recapturing Jerusalem. Hmmm..

The fifth crusade did try a novel approach to the recapture of Jerusalem. Instead of sending the army straight to besiege the ultimate target, Jerusalem, they decided to attack Egypt.

That was after all not as daft as it sounds. Egypt was the jewel in the crown of the empire the great Saladin had built. Its capital, Cairo was en-route to half a million inhabitants becoming the largest city west of China. Cairo had taken over the role of Constantinople as the great entrepôt between east and west. Goods came up the Red Sea or down via the Silk Road and through Syria to the city of a thousand minarets. From there they would be shipped to a harbour on the Mediterranean to be distributed to Europe and North Africa.

Alexandria had been the great port for exports from Egypt in antiquity. In the 13th century this had changed to a degree. Alexandria was not on the Nile, meaning goods needed to be brought there by road. River transport tended to be safer which meant harbours on the Nile itself began to overtake Alexandria. In 1217 the most important of those was Damietta. Damietta was positioned on the northernmost branch of the Nile and had grown to be a large and well defended city surrounded by strong walls and towers.

The crusaders plan was to take Damietta, choke off the source of Cairo’s and hence the source of Ayyubid wealth and power. This pressure may just get them to a point where the successor of Saladin, Sultan al Kamil would be forced to hand over Jerusalem and all the Holy sites, and maybe some trading privileges to the poor Venetians who had to trade through Alexandria.

And against all the odds, the crusaders did almost achieve their goal. Damietta fell after a 2-year-long campaign that saw the usual combination of internal squabbling, pointless heroism and military ingenuity. When Damietta finally falls, it was almost empty except for the dead and the ill. Disease and dwindling supplies had forced Sultan Al Kamil to take his army home

Having lost the key to the global East-West trade meant Sultan Al-Kamil is ready to negotiate. The Ayyubid is prepared to hand over almost all the crusaders could ask for. The city of Jerusalem as well as the holy sites of Bethlehem and Nazareth. The right to rebuild the defensive walls around Jerusalem and as negotiations drag on, even more territories across Palestine until it encompasses almost all of the old kingdom of Jerusalem.

For any rational observer this should be the end of the crusade. The main military objectives are achieved, and they can enter Jerusalem as liberators. For king John of Brienne and the barons of the kingdom of Jerusalem that is a no-brainer. Let’s take the deal and go home.

But there is a snag. The sultan does not want to and probably cannot hand over key castles that protect the pilgrim route to the Al Aqsa Mosque and the Temple Mount as well as the mosque itself. It is after all the place where Mohammed had ascended to heaven, the third most holy place for all Muslims.

That is not good enough for the hardliners, in particular not for the papal legate, you know the one who is supposedly laser focused on recapturing Jerusalem. The whole of the old kingdom of Jerusalem is what he wants, including the castles and the mosque. The templars and Hospitallers being knightly orders reporting directly to the pope side with the papal legate. The Templar’s have particular interest here as they are named after the Temple of Salomon and had their headquarters there.

Negotiations go back and forth for another 2 years whilst the crusader army remains inside the destroyed city of Damietta. In 1221 Al Kamil ups his offer and throws in more land and holy sites. Again, the legate refuses.

Sultan Al Kamil meanwhile is busy implementing his plan B, should negotiations fail. He is gathers troops and builds defensive positions along the Nile.

The crusaders during that time are almost completely inactive. Their camp is riven with discord. The papal legate is pushing for further military action whilst the opposition does not want to jeopardise the deal that is on the table. Arguments go back and forth, and ever more unusual plans are made to break the gridlock.

In September 1219 Saint Francis of Assisi arrives in Damietta. He thinks he can bring peace by converting Sultan Al Kamil to the true faith. Francis and his followers head out to the camp of the sultan and begin preaching. The experienced soldiers advise against it and when Saint Francis insists, prepare themselves to carry back the bones of a martyr. But, for some reason the sultan believes these unwashed men in beggars’ clothing are emissaries of the crusaders.

Saint Francis is brought before the defender of the holy sites of Mekka and Medina and begins preaching, I guess in either in Latin or Italian. Sultan Al Kamil treated him with respect, lets him finish his sermon and had him led back safely to the crusader camp. Contrary to legend, Sultan al Kamil did not convert, and the military situation remained unchanged.

Finally news arrive that they had all been secretly hoping for. The son of the Prester John, ruler of a mighty Christian kingdom in the east was on his way with a vast army. If we attack Cairo from the west and Prester John from the east, we can create a pincer movement that will wipe the Saracens from the face of the earth. Let us go for glory, for Christ and for the plunder of the richest of Islamic cities.

On July 4th 1221 after a 3-day fast to prepare themselves, the crusader army sets off along the Nile for Cairo, the fabled citadel of Saladin where they still hold the captured shards of the Holy Cross. The road crosses several canals and reservoirs that criss-cross the delta. The Nile was at its crest which allowed the Muslim armies to bring ships up these canals in the crusader’s rear.

Cut off from their supply lines the Christian army tried to move forward but faced resistance from the forts Sultan Al Kamil had built. Being stuck with no way going forward or back they make camp. In the night the Sultan’s soldiers opened the sluices, and the Nile water simply drowned the crusader camp in mud. With horses and men stuck in Nile sludge, no battle needs to be fought; the crusader army capitulated.

Prester John and his mighty army did not come to bail them out, because prester John does not exist. He is a fable, not a real man.

The other one who had not come to their aid was the emperor, Frederick II. Since the crusade had begun, pope Honorius urged Frederick in ever more desperate letters to make good on his crusading pledge and join the army at Damietta. Frederick was however still tied up in his reorganisation of the kingdom of Sicily and could not or would not leave.

He did however send his admiral, Henry of Malta and his chancellor, Walter of Pagliaria with a sizeable troop contingent to Damietta. These troops arrived after the army had already set off on their fateful journey to Cairo.

When news came of the catastrophic defeat, the new leadership in Damietta considered their options. Damietta was still a strong defensible position and now newly garrisoned, so it could hold out for a while. But what then? Will there be more enthusiastic campaigners come to Damietta after the tale of incompetence and pig-headedness has spread across Europe. Probably not.

So they offered a treaty to the Sultan. They would leave Damietta in exchange for the fragments of the Holy Cross Saladin had captured at the Battle of Hattin. This time it is the sultan who is stubborn. Instead of digging up some old bits of wood and let the crusaders go home with their heads held up at least a little bit higher, he just says. Apologies, I could not find these old relics you care for so much. May have ended up on a skip, sorry no can do.

And with that the surviving crusaders leave empty handed. Two weeks later Sultan Al Kamil re-enters Damietta. The fifth crusade is over.

As is customary, the pope blamed the failure of the expedition not on the stubbornness and credulity of his legate, but on the hesitancy of Frederick II. If only Frederick had come with a large army as he had promised, Cairo could now be ours. He did not explain how imperial horses could be able to charge Egyptian position over knee deep Nile mud.

As a neglectful crusader blamed for the failure of the great expedition, Frederick was up for excommunication. And that is before all his other misdemeanours such as his personal rule of Sicily in violation of all sorts of golden bulls and solemn oaths.

The reason he for now escapes his punishment is down to the diplomatic skills of a man who will be one of Frederick’s most important advisers, a man who also stands at the beginnings of the state of Prussia, Hermann von Salza, Fourth Grand Master of the Teutonic Knights.

Hermann von Salza born around 1165, came from a family of Ministeriales in the service of the Landgraves of Thuringia. His early years are as so often undocumented. But it seems he had joined the order of the Teutonic knights shortly after its founding.

The Teutonic knights were the youngest of the great military orders. The order had been founded in 1190, so after the fall of Jerusalem, as a field hospital during the siege of Akkon. It took the name of the “German House of St. Mary in Jerusalem” in the hope that one day they would re-open the old hospital for German pilgrims in Jerusalem that had been there since before the First Crusade. Its founders weren’t knights or princes but burghers of the trading cities of Bremen and Lubeck.

It did not take long for the community to transition from providers of medical care to military order. Already by 1193 the German knights were put in charge of part of the defences of Akkon.

The Teutonic knights filled a gap in the crusader military. The Templars were dominated by French knights whilst the Hospitallers mainly took English and Italian nobles. The Germans had been latecomers to the crusader movement as they had so often been detained by conflicts at home. And so they lacked a natural home amongst the military orders in the Holy Land.

To bring these guys in without interfering with the recruitment ground of the established organisations, the statutes of the order contain an unusual requirement:   its members had to come exclusively from German lands. Hence they were known as the German or Teutonic Knights.

The new order grew fast and enjoyed support from both papal and imperial sponsors. But the real boost came when it elected Hermann von Salza as its fourth Grand Master.

The order had been involved in the crusades of Barbarossa and Henry VI and was hence broadly supportive of the Hohenstaufen cause. But when the Fredrick came up to Germany in 1212 and in particular after the battle of Bouvines, the Grand Master and the emperor struck up a close friendship that made the two institutions almost inseparable. There will be a separate season on the Teutonic Knights and the Hanseatic League coming up after this one where we will go into much more detail. But for now it is enough to understand that Frederick II and the Teutonic knights are in a symbiotic relationship. Frederick gives them material wealth and helps them recruit young noblemen to their cause. In return the knights support him in Germany, help organise his crusade and maintain communications lines with the papacy. The latter is most crucial. Fredrick’s father, Henry VI had struggled for years with popes who would simply not answer his letters.

Hermann von Salza enjoyed both the trust of Fredrick II and that of Pope Honorius III. Pope and Grand Master shared the passion for the recovery of the holy sites. During the Damietta campaign Hermann von Salza had assured his Holiness again and again that Frederick would set off very soon.

Salza bridged not just imperial and papal positions but also east and west. He was involved in the siege of Damietta and the subsequent lost battle whilst simultaneously leading the negotiations between Frederick and the pope over his coronation in 1220 and then over his dispensation from the charge of criminal negligence in 1222.

Hermann von Salza’s work isn’t done with the relief from punishment in 1222. Frederick was still pledged to go on crusade. Again von Salza convinces Honorius that Frederick will definitely go. The two sides agree a delay for 2 years to 1224, and then when he still is not ready, a new departure dates is set for 1225.

When Frederick is still refusing to go in 1225 the pope is getting fractious. Even von Salza’s assurances no longer work. He nails Frederick II down to a firm last and final departure date using a carrot and stick approach. The stick is excommunication. If Frederick does not leave for the Holy land by August 1227 with at least 1000 knights that he will keep in the field for 2 years, and provides shipping for a further 2000 knights, and pays 100,000 ounces of gold into an escrow account, he will be automatically excommunicated, his vassals relieved from their oaths of fealty, no ifs, no buts, no excuses. Automatically.

The carrot is Isabella of Brienne, queen and heiress of the kingdom of Jerusalem. Frederick gets to marry her and with it gains the title of King of Jerusalem, on top of already being Emperor, king of the romans and king of Sicily.

That caused the first rift since there was already a King of Jerusalem, Isabella’s father, John of Brienne. John knew that should his daughter marry at any point, he would lose his crown, but he may have expected a bit more courteous treatment by Frederick. The relationship between the two kings soured rapidly, though they had been firm friends in the past.

More rifts occurred when Frederick began to row back on another promise he had made to the popes, recognising their ownership of the March of Ancona and the duchy of Spoleto. One of Fredericks vassals had begun a slow land grab in Spoleto which irritated the pope no end. But from Fredericks perspective these lands are crucial as a bridge between his kingdom in the south and imperial Italy in the north. This issue gained even more prominence when Frederick tried to intervene in Lombard affairs but could neither bring an army up from Sicily nor could his son bring down troops from Germany as a newly founded Lombard League blocked the passes.

And then he purges the Sicilian clergy of papal appointees and replaces them with his own men.

Suffice to say that tensions are running high as we are approaching embarkation day, August 1227. Hermann von Salza had been promoting the crusade in Germany but failed to build up much enthusiasm amongst the princes. The disaster of both the fourth and the fifth crusade had drained the air from the crusading spirit. Hence Fredrick had to pay many of them to come along. Only his friend, the Landgrave Lewis of Thuringia did come on his own volition with a large army. As happened before, the crusades comprised not just armed men, but also civilian pilgrims lured by the false promise of free shipping and keen to see the Holy Sepulchre before their death.

All of these people were heading to Brindisi in the summer of 1227. Numbers are hard to gage. Fredrick’s commitment to transport 3000 knights who came with 3 servants each amount to 9,000 souls plus sailors to operate the ships. On top of that you have probably an equal number of pilgrims which means almost 20,000 people camped before Brindisi.

Fredrick had promised shipping for 3000 knights and but sustenance only for his own 1000 knights and their retinue. Not for the other soldiers and certainly not for all of the roughly 20,000 who had piled in. Many suffered hunger and sanitary conditions in the camp deteriorated terribly. In the summer heat disease broke out, most likely Malaria.

Before the first galley cast off it’s lines nearly half of the crusaders were dead or ill. Fredrick and his friend the Landgrave of Thuringia caught the fever too, but still decided to go out to sea. Frederick because he feared the automatic excommunication and Lewis, because he was a friend. 2 days later the landgrave was dead and the emperor gravely ill. The captain of the ship decided to return to Otranto. Fredrick was brought to Pozzuoli where he recovered in the ancient Roman thermal baths that were still operating in the 13th century.

In the meantime Honorius III had died and his successor Gregory IX had none of the forbearance of his predecessor.

Some of you say that I am somewhat biased. Some say that I present the “church as always evil”. It is probably a question of perspective. From where I am standing, I feel I try my best to be neutral. Just to give you an idea how  much more anticlerical historians can be, here is Ernst Kantorowicz talking about Gregory IX:

quote

“His weapons and methods were for the most part unattractive: slight untruths, imputations, calumnies: they were often too transparent and produced an ugly impression, robbing the Pope’s procedure of every shadow of right, especially as no one but himself recognised the deeper necessity of the struggle. The obstinate old man, drunk with hate, pursued his end with singleness of aim to his last hour, indifferent to the fact that he was called a ” heretic,” that he was forsaken by those nearest him, until he became — for all his petty dishonesties — not only a dangerous enemy but a great one.”

I leave that standing here and you can make up your own mind as I talk about what happens next.

Gregory IX wasted no time. Frederick II had disembarked in Otranto half dead on September 12th, 10 days later pope Gregory IX excommunicated him. The fact that Frederick was ill was no excuse, which is indeed true. The treaty said automatic excommunication, no ifs not buts.

Still Frederick appealed to the pope and public opinion. He pointed to his determination to go and the death of his friend claiming extenuated circumstances. But that only upped the ante for Gregory IX. The pope now blamed the disease itself on Frederick. It was the emperor’s idea to leave from Brindisi in August when the risk of Malaria was highest. He claimed the emperor had not paid the 100,000 ounces of gold as promised nor he says has he provided all the shipping required.

Frederick the  tried the age-old strategy of doing penance, as Henry IV and Barbarossa had done. But Gregory IX refused to grant absolution to this penitent. Instead he began rattling off another long list of transgressions, some real, some entirely invented. This is where the stories of Frederick’s sexual and moral deviance begin to circulate. Gregory IX seemingly does not care for the resolution of the conflict in the interest of the crusade. It appears Gregory IX main concern is the encirclement of the Papal lands. He is prepared to let a chance to regain Jerusalem go if it rids him of his excessively powerful neighbour.

What further riles the pope is that Frederick, like his father, was running the crusade as his personal campaign, not as a campaign on behalf of the pope. Hence in the unlikely case that he would be successful, all the glory would go to him, not to the pope. Honorius could accept this in the interest of the higher purpose, Gregory could not.

We are in a catch 22. The pope does not want to release Frederick from the ban until he has fulfilled his crusader vows. But without release from the ban Frederick cannot go on crusade.

Frederick concludes that the only way out is for him to go on crusade anyway. If he can recapture Jerusalem, he will be the great hero of Christendom and the pope will have to relent. On the flip side if he is not successful, then it is all over. The excommunication will stick, his vassals will be released from their oaths and his kingdom will go up in flames. It is a bit like in 1212, there is only one option to be safe and that option is a hare-brained scheme of gaining a kingdom from a much more powerful opponent.

In June 1228 Frederick sets sail for Akkon with a sizeable but not huge army. Those who come along are not crusaders because there is no promised absolution should they die in the endeavour. Mostly they are personal vassals, Teutonic Knights and mercenaries. There is no papal blessing for this journey. Frederick even takes his Muslim fighters, a huge affront to the idea of a religious holy war.

Nobody is more surprised about Frederick’s departure than pope Gregory IX. But he acts quickly. With Frederick out on the high seas and the 100,000 ounces of gold that Frederick had indeed paid safely in the papal coffers, he musters his own mercenary army to invade Sicily. At the same time he subtly encourages the imperial princes to elect a new king to replace the unrepentant excommunicate.

What Frederick II sees beyond the wake of his ships is the total unravelling of his realm. The only way to keep his many crowns is to recapture Jerusalem. That task had been too much for the greatest of medieval warriors, for Richard the Lionheart, for Philippe Auguste, for Leopold of Austria even for his own grandfather the mighty Frederick Barbarossa, they have all failed. He has a smaller army and he hasn’t got time. Jerusalem needs to be his before the papal armies storm into Palermo.

This sounds like a completely loopy scheme, even more foolish than his wild dash to Constance in 1212. But he is no longer 17 and this time he has a plan. A trump card nobody knows about. Since before he left Frederick had been in contact with the sultan Al Kamil of Egypt. Al Kamil was tied up in family quarrels that were so serious he was prepared to renew the old offer he had made before Damietta. Return of the whole kingdom of Jerusalem in exchange for an alliance against his brother, the emir of Damascus. That would involve some military action against the emir, but if the forces of the kingdom of Jerusalem joined his army, a campaign would have a much higher chance of success than anything attempted these last 40 years.

But when Frederick arrives in Akkon he receives news from Al Kamil that blow his entire plan out of the water. As it happens the sultan’s brother, the one he was quarrelling with, had been kind enough to set off for paradise on his own accord. Al Kamil had seized the opportunity, taken over most of his brother’s territory including Jerusalem and was now lying with a large army in Nablus. No longer does he need the help of his brother emperor. He wishes him all the best in his endeavour. And here are some camels, silks and other gifts as signs of my enduring friendship. Most sincerely etc., etc., pp

The emperor’s position is now desperate. Things weren’t helped by a storm that cut his supply lines and his army goes hungry. His negotiations have fallen through. An enemy army is on the march in Sicily and the pope has relieved all his subjects in Italy from their oath of fealty.

But what makes it completely untenable is that Gregory had sent envoys to Outre-Mer getting the patriarch of Jerusalem and all the local clergy to preach against the excommunicated sinner who was planning to despoil the Holy Sepulchre. That meant he could no longer count on the forces of the Templars and Hospitallers or even the local barons. No way he can take Jerusalem by force.

For what happens next is that Al Kamil agrees to give Fredrick Jerusalem, Bethlehem and Nazareth for 10 years. For Why he does that there are two versions.

Modern historians like Hubert Houben claim that Al Kamil was preparing further confrontations with his nephew an-Nasir and hence was keen to sign a peace  agreement with the crusader state. Others like Olaf Rader do not talk about Al Kamil’s motives at all.

Arguably the crusader states were tying up a chunk of Al Kamil’s forces which may be a reason for him to seek a more permanent arrangement. But the agreement falls a bit from the sky if that were the only reason. Al Kamil could have made such an arrangement with the crusaders at any point before and seemingly didn’t.

Then there is the “old school” that sounds a bit romantic and improbable, but let me run you through it, again in the inimitable words of Ernst Kantorowicz:

“Frederick treated with Fakhru’d Din, [The Sultan’s envoy] which all goes to indicate how important the personal factor was throughout. The emperor was a past master in the art of discussion. The charm of his personality, his astounding knowledge, his quickness of repartee made him the equal of anyone…[…]

Frederick had complete command of Arabic and was acquainted with the Arab poets; his amazing knowledge of philosophy, logic, mathematics and medicine, and every other branch of learning enabled him to turn any conversation into the philosophical channels dear to the Oriental heart. He had been completely successful in his handling of his Saracen colonists of Lucera, and now he moved amongst the Saracen princes with the perfect savour faire of an accomplished man of the world. So he conversed away with Fakhru’d Din about philosophy and the arts of government, and Fakhru’d Din must have had much to tell his master about the emperor.

Al Kamil was the very man to appreciate such qualities. He was an oriental edition of the emperor, unless indeed it be more correct to call the Emperor an occidental edition of the Sultan. Al Kamil loved to dispute with learned men about jurisprudence and grammar, beloved especially of the Arab; he was himself a poet — some of his verses still survive — and in his mountain castle, as they tell, “fifty scholars reclined on divans round his throne to provide his evening conversation.”

He spent money willingly in the furtherance of learning; founded a school in Cairo for the study of Islamic Tradition, and appointed salaries for jurists. People praised his courteous bearing as much as his stern and impressive dignity. In addition he was an admirable administrator, who checked his own revenues and even invented new varieties of tax.

He had no more fancy than Frederick for aimless bloodshed if the end could be reached by friendly means, and so it came about that their negotiations presently bore fruit.”

And that fruit was the return of the cities of Jerusalem, Bethlehem and Nazareth including a narrow land corridor connecting them to Akkon and Jaffa. All that in exchange for a 10 year peace agreement.

A bromance between the defender of Mekka and Medina and the sword of Christendom had resulted in peace. Somehow the two men had found a way to trust each other enough to sign a compromise that would enrage either of their camps but serve their purposes. It is an astounding and rarely repeated event, if ever.

Frederick II entered Jerusalem on March 17th, 1229, proceeded to the church of the Holy Sepulchre where he walks under the crown of Jerusalem. The pilgrims and soldiers he had brought with him break out in great jubilation. That turns quickly into despair. The patriarch of Jerusalem has put the whole city under interdict. No mass can be said, no sacrament performed no prayers at the Holy Sepulchre will be said. All the pilgrims had come for was suddenly put out of reach. Frederick has to leave his new capital the next day so the interdict can be lifted.

Upon Frederick returns to Akkon, he receives a most frosty reception. As expected the patriarch and the clergy of the kingdom instructed by Gregory refuse to release him from the ban. No release from the ban, no formal coronation. But the barons of the kingdom are disappointed too. He has failed to regain the fertile lands surrounding the cities, making the holy sites largely a financial burden. And the Templars are outraged that the Temple Mount and the Al Aqsa Mosque had remained out of bounds for Christian pilgrims. They wanted their old headquarters back.

When the animosity turns into street fighting does the dejected emperor leave Akkon and sets sail for home. News arrive that papal troops had come as far as Benevento. It is time to go home and save his kingdom.

Jerusalem would remain in Christian hands until 1241. Crusades will continue for another 100 years but never again will crusaders gain control of the Holy sites.

Next week we will take a look at how Frederick reestablishes his  reign in Sicily, expels foreigners, breaks his barons and creates the famous community its of Muslims in Lucera. I hope you can join us again.

Before I go, let me thank all of you who are supporting the show, in particular the Patrons who have kindly signed up on patreon.com/historyofthegermans. It is thanks to you this show does not have to do advertising for matrasses or as I recently heard energy supplements and pension plans. If Patreon isn’t for you, another way to help the show is sharing the podcast directly or boosting its recognition on social media. If you share, comment or retweet a post from the History of the Germans it is more likely to be seen by others, hence bringing in more listeners. My most active places are Twitter @germanshistory and my Facebook page History of the Germans Podcast. As always, all the links are in the show notes.   

Diplomat and Grand Master of the Teutonic Order

Hello and welcome to the History of the Germans: Episode 129 – Hermann von Salza

“.. the far-sighted planning of Grand Master Brother Hermann von Salza had so strengthened the Teutonic Order that it had many members and such power, riches and honour that word of its fame and good reputation had spread the length and breadth of the empire.” So describes the chronicler Nicolaus von Jeroschin the role of the fourth and arguably most influential of the grand Masters of the Teutonic Knights. His role in promoting and expanding the order is hard to exaggerate. Without his skill and energy, the Teutonic Knights would have ended up like the Order of the Knights of St. Thomas. Have you have never heard of the Knights of St. Thomas, a English chivalric military order founded as a field hospital during the siege of the city of Acre in 1191? Well, that is the difference one man can make, at least very occasionally.

TRANSCRIPT

Hello and welcome to the History of the Germans: Episode 129 – Hermann von Salza

“.. the far-sighted planning of Grand Master Brother Hermann von Salza had so strengthened the Teutonic Order that it had many members and such power, riches and honour that word of its fame and good reputation had spread the length and breadth of the empire.” So describes the chronicler Nicolaus von Jeroschin the role of the fourth and arguably most influential of the grand Masters of the Teutonic Knights. His role in promoting and expanding the order is hard to exaggerate. Without his skill and energy, the Teutonic Knights would have ended up like the Order of the Knights of St. Thomas. Have you have never heard of the Knights of St. Thomas, a English chivalric military order founded as a field hospital during the siege of the city of Acre in 1191? Well, that is the difference one man can make, at least very occasionally.

Before we get into the story let me briefly reiterate that the History of the Germans podcast and all its offshoots, including the recently launched separate podcast on the Teutonic Knights are advertising free thanks to the generosity of our patrons. And you can become a patron too by signing up on patreon.com/historyofthegermans or by making a one-time donation at historyofthegermans.com/support. And thanks a lot to Thomas E. O., Joseph L., Ales T. and the ghost of Wayne Knight from Jurassic Park who have already signed up.

The Early Years

The very first time we hear of the existence of Hermann von Salza is in the year 1210 when he is present at the coronation of John of Brienne as King of Jerusalem. At that point he is already the master of the Knights of the Hospital of St. Mary of the Germans in Jerusalem, which suggests he must already be a man of some maturity.

His family were Ministeriales to the Landgraves of Thuringia. Ministeriales were a uniquely German institution. They had originally been unfree men, serfs, who had been trained in the use of knightly weapons. As unfree men they were the property of their master and could -at least in theory- be sent to do whatever the master demanded. In practice they lived a lifestyle almost indistinguishable from the lower aristocracy, they held castles and were sometimes exceedingly wealthy. But they did not have the freedoms of a true aristocrat to choose their master and refuse orders incompatible with their honour. All that resulted in a social inferiority complex for many Ministeriales families. One way to get elevated from serf knight to true knight was to join a chivalric order, which explains the attraction of the Teutonic Knights to this class and presumably to Hermann von Salza.

We do not know when he joined but even by 1210 the Teutonic Order was still a very modest affair. They had started off as a field hospital during the siege of Acre and had set up a more permanent structure inside the city once it had been taken. They had some property in the Holy Land as well as  a monastery and some castles in Sicily given to them by emperor Henry VI. Henry VI had planned a crusade in 1197 that would presumably have involved a role for the Teutonic Order, but the emperor had died before he could get going. All we know about this period is that the order is so insignificant that we know nothing about the first three grand masters apart from their names.

In 1210 when Hermann von Salza takes over the outlook is especially bleak. The early sponsors of the Teutonic knights had been the Hohenstaufen family, namely duke Frederick of Swabia and his brother, the emperor Henry VI. By 1210 the power of the Hohenstaufen seemed irretrievably lost. Philipp of Swabia the last of Henry VI’ brothers had fought an endless civil war for the Imperial crown against Otto IV from the House of Welf. Though he had won the war, he was murdered in 1208 on an unrelated matter. At that point Hohenstaufen power in the German lands collapsed. The empire went to Otto IV, archenemy of the Hohenstaufen and presumably uninterested in the tiny hospital in Acre, assuming he even knew about its existence.

There was still the baby boy Henry VI had left behind, the then last male member of the House of Waiblingen. He had by now turned 15 but watched powerless as Otto IV’s army was coming down to Sicily to link up with the rebels who wanted to remove him from his throne.

The new grandmaster urgently needed a new sponsor.

The Financing of the Chivalric Orders

All of the chivalric orders were heavily dependent upon financial support from Europe. Building these enormous castles and manning them with highly trained knights was extraordinarily expensive. Just google the Krak des Chevaliers, the stronghold of the Knights Hospitallers. It covered 6 hectares and was continuously garrisoned by 2000 men. There was no way such a structure could be built, maintained and staffed with the resources available in the Holy Land. And on top of that there are the hospitals, some of which are quite large and the churches the orders maintained.

To fund all that, the chivalric orders, like other religious orders, received donations from lay people who were keen to benefit from the spiritual wealth their activities generated. That was initially quite easy since enthusiasm for crusading was huge and the momentum of the First Crusade pushed vast amounts of resources towards the Holy Land. But by the end of the 12th century the news from the Holy Land had been relentlessly bleak. The armies of the second crusade had been routed before even the first pilgrim set foot in Palestine. Jerusalem had fallen in 1187 and the various attempts to regain it had failed. The fourth crusade had turned into a travesty when the Venetian doge demanded the crusaders attack Christian Constantinople in lieu of payment for transport to the Holy Land.

To keep the cash flowing the church resorted to a system of indulgences, Ablaesse in German. I guess you have all heard about those in the context of the Reformation. In the 13th century they were still new and relatively reasonable. So for instance someone got convicted of a crime and ordered to go on crusade as penance, but was elderly or infirm. In that case he could pay someone else to go in his stead. To find such a person he could go to a chivalric order who would send one of their brothers in exchange for a sizeable contribution. Things got a bit more edgy when the papacy developed the theory of excess grace or “the treasury of merit”. The idea was that all the saints and martyrs had been so holy and worshipful that they had generated much more divine grace than they needed for the ticket to heaven. This excess divine grace was now administered by the church who would allocate it to those penitent sinners much in need of that elusive balm that wiped off their sins. To gain an indulgence a sinner had to perform a good deed, such as make a number of prayers, go on pilgrimage, serve the poor or infirm etc. One qualifying act was making a donation to a good cause, a hospital or orphanage.

As crusading euphoria died down and financing needs escalated in the 13th century, the popes passed some of that excess divine grace to the chivalric orders to pass out as indulgences to those who were willing to repent and support the crusading effort by making a donation.

These donations ranged from tangible items, like foodstuff or clothes to whole estates, castles and even entire counties. To manage the flow of donations and the estates, the chivalric orders established networks of administrative centres across Europe. These were usually run by a member of the military wing or the order who would be called a commander or a Komtur in German. So when you travel through Germany and find an estate or vineyard is called a Komtur or in France a Commanderie, that would usually mean it was once owned by a chivalric order.

A chivalric order operated very much like a modern charity, except for a slightly different attitude to the locals. Only a small number of knights were in the Holy land actually fighting Muslims in the same way as only a few Medicins sans Frontier are actually on the frontier. Like Oxfam, where a lot more people work in their high street shops than drill wells in Sahel, behind any Templar riding out to face up to Saladin’s noble fighters stood not just his squires but also a whole centurion of administrators and fundraisers in their commanderies way back home.

The Teutonic Knights in Transylvania

The Teutonic Knights in 1210 had no network of Commanderies across Western Europe and after the demise of the Hohenstaufen little prospect of that happening any time soon. They needed new sponsors. And so, like any good charity boss, Hermann von Salza went on a journey to find donors. In 1211 he sets out to visit the kingdom of Armenia and the island of Cyprus, both Christian states in the region. He strikes up a friendship with king Leo of Armenia who promptly makes a generous donation. At the next staging post in Cyprus his efforts did not yield quite the results he intended. But whilst on the journey he made a very lucrative acquaintance. He met some senior Hungarian noblemen, envoys of king Andreas to the kingdom of Jerusalem.

Andreas may already be familiar with the order since his influential wife Gertrud is from Bavaria and many of his advisers are German. But when king Andreas hears of the ambitious and industrious new master of the order he comes up with an idea.

Hungary had been the entry point for central Asians invaders since Attila the Hun. The early 13th century version of these attackers were the Cumans. As per usual, the Cumans were a pagan people who had conquered a large territory east of Hungary thanks to exceptional horsemanship and archery. Their constant attacks on the Hungarian border had resulted in a depopulated wasteland on the easters side of the kingdom. Inviting these Teutonic Knights to take over one of these buffer zones would be a great way to improve Hungary’s defences. And as an added benefit, King Andreas could claim to have supported the crusaders which would gain him some valuable excess divine grace.

So in 1211 the Teutonic Knights are offered to become Hungarian vassals in the Burzenland, a region in Transylvania, modern day Romania. The king grants them almost complete independence. Only the right to mint coins and any claim on minerals and precious metals remains with the crown. They are allowed to erect castles, found cities, establish markets, lay roads, build mills, pretty much whatever medieval colonists desire. In exchange they are to defend the Kingdom against invasions by the pagan Cumans

It is likely that there were already some hardy German colonists there when the Teutonic knights arrived, but after they had established themselves more and more arrived from Germany, mainly from Saxony and Franconia. The abandoned farmland is brought under the plough, villages are established, the new province flourished and the Teutonic Knights gained a reputation as competent managers. And it wasn’t only a commercial adventure. Because the Cumans were pagans with little intention to convert, the Teutonic Knights were allowed fight them under they order’s rule. It was here, rather than the Holy Land where the Teutonic Knights first displayed their impressive military skill. They built strong castles, including Kronberg, modern day Brasov and the first Marienburg (Feldioara in Romanian). The castles protected the new settlements and formed bases for increasingly successful operations against the Cumans.  

The development was so rapid that by the 1220s this territory had become a major contributor to the Teutonic Knights coffers. And it had become a recruitment tool for new knights who wanted to serve in crusades but preferred central European climate and the momentum that the Holy Land so sadly lacked.

All these successes did however not last. The Hungarian nobles became increasingly concerned about the rising power and wealth of a well organised, coherent monastic state inside their kingdom. One of the issues with the Teutonic Knights was that they had vowed chastity and poverty, like monks. They had no children and did not own the land they administered personally. Therefore every little strip of land they had acquired would stay with the order for ever. As the order expanded, more and more land would be swallowed up and taken out of circulation. That was similar to normal monasteries, but those could be bullied to hand things over or appoint the nobles as bailiffs. But Teutonic Knights, not easy to bully.

The Hungarian nobles conclude that they need to get rid of these interlopers before it was too late. And they find an ally in Bela, the crown prince who is very much not a dutiful son of king Andreas. One story is that this aristocratic and filial opposition twists Andreas arm until he revokes the Teutonic Knight’s privileges. Another is that Andreas had become closer to the Templars and Hospitallers during his time in the fifth Crusade, preferring them to the scruffier Teutonic Knights. In any event an order is issued for them to leave.

The Knights protest to the pope and are reinstated, but that opens another can of worms. Being unsure about their position relative to the current and even more the future Hungarian king Bela, they seek Papal protection. They go as far as offering pope Honorius III sovereignty over their new province and chuck out the local bishop. At that point all of Hungary, including Andreas, unites against the order and they are trown out. The pope protests but to no avail.

As for the German colonists, they stay and live there until after the fall of the Berlin Wall. These are the famous Siebenburger Sachsen, the Transsylvanian Saxons who maintained their own culture and traditions for hundreds of years, creating a cultural landscape that is  very high up on my bucket list to visit.

The friendship between Hermann von Salza and emperor Frederick II

Whilst all this is going on, our friend Hermann von Salza continues his search for more patrons. In 1215 he might have gone to Sicily where the order had some important possessions. By now the fortune of the house of Hohenstaufen had completely changed. Henry VI’ baby son had grown up and – with the support of pope Innocent III – had gone to Germany and, thanks to Otto IV’s defeat at the battle of Bouvines, had become King of the Romans.

This baby son is none other than the emperor Frederick II. Hermann von Salza meets Frederick II in 1216 in Germany and the two men formed one of these rare political friendships that benefitted both sides equally. Hermann von Salza was Frederick II’s foreign secretary, his main interlocutor with the papacy. Despite the almost insurmountable political differences, Hermann von Salza’s was able to bring pope and emperor back to the negotiating table, again and again. Only after the grand master had died in 1239 did the true fight to the death between the two heads of Christendom break out.

These developments from Henry VI’s acquisition of Sicily in 1194 to the beheading of Konradin, the last of the Hohenstaufen in 1268 was subject of an entire series of the History of the Germans. I will not go through all of the fascinating ups and downs in this podcast. It is a brilliant story and if you want to get in full or want to refresh your memory, listen to the episodes 70 to 92. I have actually just listened to them again myself, and some of the stories are just great.

But back to Hermann. The deal he got was that in exchange for all his advice, his help in keeping the papacy from going all out for him was that Frederick II would promote the Teutonic order at every opportunity. Whether that was a deal they agreed at their very first meeting in 1216 or at a later stage is unclear, but that is how it went down. Frederick handed over estates, castles and lands in Alsace, Thuringia, Franconia and Tyrol on top of generous donations in Sicily and Puglia. The Hohenstaufen supporters followed suit. For example the powerful Ministeriales of Munzenberg gave the order the hospital in Sachsenhausen today part of Frankfurt. And then there are the lords of Hohenlohe, a noble family from Franconia who claim to be loosely related to the Hohenstaufen. Their ancestral castle was Weikersheim, today one of Germany’s most remarkable Renaissance palaces and just 4 miles from my family home. More importantly for our story, the Hohenlohes were avid crusaders and upon return from the fifth crusade in 1219 they give the estate of Mergentheim to the order. Mergentheim would later become the administrative centre of the order in the German lands and after the loss of Prussia the seat of the Grand Master.

The Fifth Crusade

Talking about the fifth crusade, this is the first time the Teutonic Knights play a significant military role in the Holy Land. During the fifth crusade the Latins try something new. Instead of going straight for Jerusalem, they instead attack Egypt, which is more vulnerable. Hermann von Salza manages to recruit 700 crusaders for the undertaking which gives him a seat at the commanders’ table. The Fifth Crusade is in many ways a well-run operation led by locals, the king of Jerusalem and the masters of the chivalric orders, which may explain their initial success. They take the key trading city of Damietta after a long and difficult siege.

That cuts Cairo off from the mediterranean, which would end its hegemony in the east west trade. The sultan is prepared to offer the crusaders a great deal. They get Jerusalem back, minus the Al Aqsa Mosque, a lasting peace and the fragments of the Holy cross lost in the battle of Hattin. All that in exchange for just Damietta. Hermann von Salza and the king of Jerusalem, John of Brienna want to take the deal but some of the foreign crusaders led by the papal legate feel momentum is with them plus they have evidence that the mythical prester John will come to their aid. The Templars tip the balance to rejecting the offer and go off to take Cairo, at this point only the largest city west of India. The reason? The Templars cannot accept the sultan’s condition to keep the Al Aqsa Mosque as that meant losing their home on top of the Temple Mount, a home they haven’t had for decades, but still.  

Hermann is sent home to bring more reinforcements and indeed convinces Frederick to send more troops, even though the emperor is tied up with various rebellions. When Hermann gets back ahead of the reinforcements, he is told that everyone is restless and they will get going now. He counsels against a move before the imperial reinforcements are there but is overruled. The usual crusading disaster follows. A Gung Ho attack in unsuitable terrain and the army is wiped out, everyone is captured. Meanwhile the imperial troops arrived in Damietta and wondered how the hack everyone had left without them. In the peace agreement, Damietta was returned to the sultan of Egypt and everybody went home having achieved precisely nothing. Everybody blames emperor Frederick II.

The crusade of Frederick II

After that Frederick is constantly made to promise another crusade and for one or other reason had to cancel last minute. Several times it is Hermann von Salza’s diplomatic skill that stops the pope from excommunicating the emperor. To make crusading more attractive, Hermann organises for the emperor to marry Isabella, heiress of the kingdom of Jerusalem. Frederick uses this to immediately assume the title of king of Jerusalem, pushing aside his father in law, John of Brienne.

One side effect of these diplomatic missions is that Hermann can negotiate changes to the status of the Teutonic Order. A chivalric order, like any other monastic order had a rule, usually based on some adaptation of an existing rule, such as the rule of St. Benedict. In 1199 the Teutonic Order was given a mixed rule whereby they had to follow the rule of the Knights Hospitallers for their caritative side and the rule of the Templars for their military branch. In it it wasn’t quite clear whether they were subservient to the other two orders and/or had to take orders from the bishops.

Throughout the 1220’s Hermann von Salza obtained various papal privileges that elevated the Teutonic Knights to the same status that the other two orders enjoyed. That is the moment when they were officially allowed to wear their iconic white cloak with the black cross, something they had done for a while already. There were multiple revisions to their rule and by the 1250s they had acquired the right to alter their rule themselves, without requiring papal permission.

In 1225 Frederick II cancels his crusade one too many times. At that point even the resourceful von Salza cannot stop the pope from excommunicating the emperor. Which was really unfair, because this time it really wasn’t the emperor’s fault.

In 1226 Frederick tries to rehabilitate himself by eventually going on crusade. He and Hermann set off for the Holy Land with a sizeable but not overwhelmingly powerful army. This turns out to be both the most effective and least successful crusade.

News of the emperor’s excommunication had reached Jerusalem and the Franciscans, always opposed to Frederick II, have been agitating against him. When the crusaders arrive, the local powers, the patriarch, the nobility and the masters of the other two orders and above all the ex-king and imperial father-in-law John of Brienne shun the emperor. Still Frederick II ploughs on. But, rather than wasting his men and treasure in another futile attempt to dislodge the Saracens, he negotiates with the sultan and gets pretty much the same deal the crusaders had negotiated before Damietta. For the first time in 40 years Christians were again in control of Jerusalem and most of its holy sites -excluding the Al Aqsa Mosque.

But despite or maybe because of this astounding success the reaction is not just muted, but hostile. The patriarch of Jerusalem instead of rejoicing that he got back into his nominal seat not only refuses to crown Frederick king of Jerusalem in the church of the Holy Sepulchre, but instead reiterates the excommunication and places the whole city under interdict. Frederick II still insists on a coronation in church though. Hermann von Salza can convince him that forcing a pliant bishop to do it would make a reconciliation with the papacy almost impossible. So Frederick II crowns himself in a secular ceremony in the church of the Holy Sepulchre, something quite rare until Napoleon does it again in 1804.

With the local population and leadership so hostile Frederick II and his men had to withdraw in haste. This adventure yielded little benefit for the emperor and his trusted advisor the grand master. Frederick II came back to his kingdom of Sicily that had been overrun by papal mercenaries whilst the Teutonic Knights position in the Holy Land had changed. The close association with the emperor materially increased the possessions the order held in the Holy Land, gaining them their new headquarters, the Starkenburg or Montfort just outside Haifa. But at the same time they found themselves ostracised by the local leaders, a situation that got worse as the struggle between pope and emperor escalated.

It is likely around this time that the order became more and more German. So far they had received donations from across Europe and the crusader states, having established houses in Armenia, Greece, the kingdom of Sicily, Central Italy, France and Spain. Some of the brothers had been French or Italian. But that is now gradually coming to an end.

Konrad of Masovia invites the Teutonic Knights to Prussia

Whilst all this unfolds, a letter had arrived in the Teutonic Knights headquarters that will have much larger consequences than any of the crusades in the Holy Land.

In 1225/1226 the Polish duke Konrad of Masovia asked the Teutonic Knights whether they would be interested in defending Christendom against the heathen Prussians on his border. This was bad timing on Konrad’s part since the order was in the midst of organising the crusade of Frederick II and directed all their resources there. But Konrad insisted and negotiations continued and intensified after Hermann’s return from that crusade.

This is not the first time we encounter the Prussians, the Baltic people who lived between Poland and Lithuania. Those of you with good memory will recall St. Adalbert the friend of emperor Otto III who had set out to convert the Prussians in the 10th century; without much success. His slain body was bought back by the duke of Poland Boleslav the Brave and Otto III came to Gniesno to pray at his grave. The next missionary, Bruno von Querfurth was no more successful, gaining martyrdom within days of crossing into Prussian land. That was in 1009. After that local monasteries occasionally sent out missionaries into the Prussian lands, and some even returned alive, but not many. As for the Prussians, they remained obstinately pagan.

Tensions between Prussians and Poles escalated during the early 13th century. As the peaceful missionary attempts had failed, the Polish dukes called for a crusade against these pagans, hoping to incorporate them into their principalities. The crusade was given papal blessing and took place in 1222/23 involving the dukes of Masovia, Silesia and Pomerelia. Prussian resistance was strong and the crusaders got defeated. And worse for the Poles, namely Konrad of Masovia, the Prussians sensed their weakness and attacked, plundering and burning the duke’s lands. Amongst others the great Cistercian abbey of Oliwa was burned down twice.

One of the fundamental problems was the fragmentation of the Polish rulers, the Piast dynasty. Ever since the death of Boleslaw III Wrymouth in 1138 the kingdom had split into multiple duchies, each ruled by a different branch of the Piast family. One of them was usually chosen as the “high duke” and nominal ruler of Poland, though his control over his cousins was very limited. The duchy of Masovia that Konrad ruled did not have the resources to defeat the Prussians and the other dukes were happy to come for a period of fighting, but had enough other problems that stopped them from running sustained campaigns.

In that situation the duke of Masovia put his hope into the concept of chivalric orders. And of those there were many, not just the Templars, Hospitallers and Teutonic Knights. He negotiated with these three as well as with the Spanish order of Calatrava before founding his own order, the order of Dobrin or Milites Christi in Prussia. They attracted some 15 knights from Northern Germany who took over the border castle at Dobrin. But this new order had limited resources and was less successful in attracting colonists as their colleagues in Transylvania so that they could barely hold out in Dobrin.

The situation was pretty dire when Konrad of Masovia and his bishops put their last hope into the Teutonic Order. They offered them the Kulmerland, the land around the city of Kulm or Chelmno in Polish. The exact terms of this transaction are disputed between German and Polish historians. The Polish argue that it was given as a fief whilst the Germans argue that it had been handed over as unencumbered property. What both sides agree is that in 1230 the city and the land was in the hands of the Prussians.

If the Polish duke thought that the Teutonic Knights would be blown away by the generosity of the offer and would immediately saddle their horses to come to the rescue of his duchy, he was sorly mistaken.

For one, the Teutonic Knights saw their main purpose in the conquest and defence of the Holy Land. All this activity in Eastern Europe, including the activity in Hungary were always only ancillary to the main job.

Moreover, the debacle in the Burzenland had made them weary of princely promises, in particular from princes whose position wasn’t very stable. If they were going to do something like that again, they would only go with all belts and braces.

Therefore Hermann von Salza got the emperor Frederick II issue the Golden Bull of Rimini in which the Teutonic Knights are granted full ownership of the land of Chelmno and all future acquisitions in Prussia. Not only that but the head of Teutonic Order was elevated to the rank of imperial prince. As an imperial principality the emperor was obliged to help them in case they get attacked by an enemy. Moreover they were also granted all imperial regalia in Prussia, the right to raise taxes, levies, tolls, mint coins, build castles, found cities and exploit natural resources. What is unclear is the date of the Golden Bull. On the document it says 1226 so immediately after the first time Konrad of Masovia had made contact. Modern scholars put the date at 1234/5 at a time when the conquest of Prussia had already gained traction.

The problem with the Golden Bull is whether the emperor had jurisdiction over this territory. The basic argument for is that pagan lands were considered no-man’s land which therefore was the purvey of the heads of Christendom, the emperor and the pope. The counterargument would be that Poland had already built a presence in Kulm/Chelmno so that it was Christian land temporarily occupied by pagans, hence Polish and not Imperial. This debate about whether Prussia was part of the empire or not keeps rumbling on in the background and is the reason the elector Frederick of Brandenburg was crowned king in Prussia in Koenigsberg in 1701 rather than king of Prussia or king of Brandenburg.

In any event the Teutonic Order will conquer Prussia and rule it without paying homage to the king of Poland for most of its existence.

Now we will not talk about the conquest of Prussia this week. That will be in the next episode.

Elisabeth of Hungary and Hermann’s last years

What I would like to do instead is bringing the story of Hermann von Salza to its conclusion. Hermann remained instrumental in all of Frederick II’s policies. He keeps travelling relentlessly between Germany, Italy, Sicily and the Holy Land, an astounding feat for a man who must be in his fifties or early sixties by now. He negotiates the reconciliation between Frederick II and pope Honorius III that keeps a lid on things for nearly a decade. He gets sent to negotiate the release of King Waldemar II of Denmark, a story we heard in the context of the foundation of Lubeck, episode 105.

His greatest moment came at the canonisation of Saint Elisabeth of Thuringia in Marburg in 1235. Elisabeth had become one of the most influential saints in the high Middle Ages as the stories of her deep faith and devotion to the poor and infirm spread across the empire. She had become so revered that the ceremony of her canonisation was attended by the emperor Frederick II himself. The ruling landgrave of Thuringia at the time, Konrad, gave the hospital Elizabeth had founded in Marburg to the Teutonic Knights and allowed them to build and maintain the church where her body would be kept in a splendid golden reliquary. This association with Saint Elisabeth hugely improved the order’s standing, not to speak of the financial benefit the management of such an important pilgrimage site generated. The church they built, the Elizabethkirche is still there and Marburg became a main centre for the Teutonic Order, site of the meetings of the grand Chapter.

To what extent Saint Elisabeth was coerced into sometimes cruel acts of self-harm and harm to her children by her spiritual guardian, the unquestionably vile inquisitor Konrad of Marburg is something I did discuss in one of the bonus episodes for patrons.

1235 also saw the negotiations about the incorporation of the Livonian sword brothers into the Teutonic Knights something we have already looked at in episode 110.  

Hermann of Salza is literally everywhere where anything happens between 1216 and 1239. And he has to be. Frederick II’s attempts to bring Northern Italy under his control pushes him into an ever more difficult position vis-à-vis the pope who fears to be surrounded by imperial territory on all sides. Hermann von Salza is the man who enjoys the trust of both sides and can stop small issues from blowing up into outright hostilities.

He keeps going to almost his very last day. On March 20th, 1239 Hermann von Salza succumbed to an unknown illness. In the following 11 years Frederick II and pope Innocent IV find themselves in a military and spiritual struggle that ends with the fall of the House of Hohenstaufen and 50 years later the removal of the papacy from Rome to Avignon.

As the fortunes of their great benefactor dims, the order’s path lies ahead sparkling in bright sunshine. As you may know, I am not an adherent of the Great Man view of history, but occasionally there are individuals who have an impact that goes beyond just managing the main political and economic currents well. And Hermann von Salza is one of them. Without his energy and skill the Teutonic Knight would have ended up like so many minor chivalric orders, the order of Saint Thomas, the Order of Calatrava, the Livonian word brothers etc., etc.

Now next week we will see what Hermann’s successors do with his legacy. We will move our focus to the North and take a look at how the Teutonic Knights gained Prussia, how they organised themselves and their territory and what made them so special. I hope you will join us again.

The beginnings of the Teutonic Knights

Hello and welcome to a new season of the History of the Germans, the Teutonic Knights or to give them their full title, the knights of the hospital of St. Mary of the House of the Germans in Jerusalem. Even though the state they had created in Prussia has been wiped off the map with all its cultural markers, the Teutonic Knights are not forgotten. Less shrouded in nonsense than the Templars, less devoted to social causes than the Knights of St. John  they still loom large not just in German history but even more so in Polish and Russian history. Both of these nations have placed victories over the Teutonic Knights at key junctions of their national narrative.

But were the Teutonic knights these near invincible, cruel faceless war machines that Sergei Eisenstein had charging over the ice to the sound of Prokofiev brilliant score? That is what we will try to find out over the next few episodes. Expect your fair share of heroic battles, chivalric entertainment all intermingled with twisted theology and astute commercial activity. I hope you will enjoy it.

TRANSCRIPT

Hello and welcome to a new season of the History of the Germans, the Teutonic Knights or to give them their full title, the knights of the hospital of St. Mary of the House of the Germans in Jerusalem. Even though the state they had created in Prussia has been wiped off the map with all its cultural markers, the Teutonic Knights are not forgotten. Less shrouded in nonsense than the Templars, less devoted to social causes than the Knights of St. John  they still loom large not just in German history but even more so in Polish and Russian history. Both of these nations have placed victories over the Teutonic Knights at key junctions of their national narrative.

But were the Teutonic knights these near invincible, cruel faceless war machines that Sergei Eisenstein had charging over the ice to the sound of Prokofiev brilliant score? That is what we will try to find out over the next few episodes. Expect your fair share of heroic battles, chivalric entertainment all intermingled with twisted theology and astute commercial activity. I hope you will enjoy it.

But before we start let me tell you again that the History of the Germans and its offshoot podcasts are all advertising free. And that is more important than ever. Even if I look at just the last 12 months, podcast advertising has become more and more irritating. Publishers who have spent excessive amounts on hosts and production are forced to cram in more and more advertising to make back their investments. Podcasting networks who by the way take a cool 50% of all advertising revenues, convince independent podcasters to have their shows interrupted mid-sentence to push some crypto currency or the ubiquitous online mental health services. I find this worrying as it will drive people away from listening to openly available podcasts like this one. The author and journalist Cory Doctorow had described this process as follows: quote “Here is how platforms die: first, they are good to their users; then they abuse their users to make things better for their business customers; finally, they abuse those business customers to claw back all the value for themselves. Then, they die.” This is a family podcast so I will not use the term he coined for this, but if you are interested there is a link to his blogpost in the show notes.

Therefore, if you care about independent podcasting please support not just the History of the Germans but other independent podcasters who either commit to an advertising free model or at least constrain themselves to one or two advertising inserts. That is why we should all be thankful to  Sir Mustard, Chuck T, Michael R., and Eric F. and all the others who have already signed up on patreon.com/History of the Germans or have made a one-time donation at historyofthegermans.com.

Back to the show.

And we start at the beginning: 

Quote: “In the year of His incarnation 1190 at a time when the city of Acre was besieged by Christians and was recovered from the hands of the infidels by favor of divine grace, there were in the army of the Christians certain devoted men from the cities of Bremen and Lübeck, who, as men of mercy who looked with eyes of compassion upon the diverse and intolerable shortages and discomforts of the sick staying in the said army, founded a hospital in a tent of theirs made from the sail of a certain ship, which in German is called a “cog”. Gathering the infirm there, they served them humbly and devotedly and, looking after them lovingly out of the goods conferred upon them by God, they treated them mercifully, attending to the fact that in the person of any sick or poor man they received Christ himself.” End quote. This is how Peter von Duisburg a priest-brother of the Teutonic Knight described the foundation of the order in the chronicle he put together in 1326-1330.

It is a long way from Bremen and Lubeck merchants rigging a shelter for the sick and wounded to armed men clad in white robes embroidered with black crosses charging their enormous warhorses at lightly armed peasants across a frozen Baltic landscape.

To understand why in the medieval mind these two activities were just two sides of the same medal, we need to go back a few more centuries further and talk about the values and behaviours of the medieval ruling elite that goes by the term of chivalry.

The Teutonic Knights were a chivalric military order and the reason they and the other chivalric orders like the Templar and the Knights Hospitallers came to into existence is down to this rather convoluted and contradictory worldview.

Chivalry traces back to three sources. One were older Germanic and Scandinavian ideas about what it meant to be a warrior. Then there are the core teachings of the church and we have the concepts of courtly love and behaviour that emerge out of nothing during the 12th and 13th century.

In Germanic tribal culture, being a warrior was seen as the pinnacle of human achievement that required lifelong training that started in early childhood. But fighting skills wasn’t all. They differentiated between honourable warriors and well-trained thugs. And the key difference between the two was loyalty, meaning loyalty to the tribe, to the leader and to the warriors under ones command. So loyalty went both ways. The warrior would defend the king, earl or chieftain with his life. In return the leader would ensure the warrior gets an opportunity to become rich. Plunder had to be divided justly between the leader and his men and sometimes women. And if the leader was either unable or unwilling to provide the opportunities for enrichment, that leader could and would be replaced.

This warrior culture relished fighting almost as fighting for fighting’s sake. They embraced not just the physical challenge, but also the inevitable consequence, i.e., lots of fighting means lots of death. But falling in battle held little threat for Norsemen, Goths, Franks, Lombards and Burgundians since an honourable death led straight to a seat at the feasts in Valhalla, where one could continue straight away with the fighting and drinking, presumably now without the risk of actual death.

If one had the misfortune of being defeated and not dying in the battle, there were two potential outcomes. If one had fought valiantly and the lack of dying was down to simply being unlucky, the warrior would be executed in a way that was considered a honourable death that got him safely into Valhalla. If he had behaved cowardly, for instance had surrendered, the warrior was refused such honour and was sold into slavery instead.

That changed around the 9th century. Warriors that were captured were now neither executed nor sold but ransomed back to their families. Why that happened isn’t quite clear.

It may be that the emergence of a Carolingian empire fostered some notion of unity amongst the Frankish aristocrats. Even when fighting over a plot of land, a girl or an insult, both sides in the conflict were members of the same elite, the Frankish nobility. And this elite mingled across ever larger distances, made friends and married each other’s sisters.

Another component was that the church had banned Christians from keeping or enslaving fellow Christians. Enslaving pagans was perfectly fine, just not Christians. And that meant any enemy who was captured could not be turned into profit any other way than by sending him back for ransom.

And lastly, that dying business had become a lot less fun now that the gates of Valhalla had been shut for good. A ruthless warrior was now going straight to hell unless he had done penance before it was all over. Seeing the pearly gates vanishing in the distance a defeated knight was better off to yield, pay ransom and have another go at either the same enemy or eternal salvation. And in turn the victor was now expected to accept the submission of his fellow knight and treat him with respect whilst they were waiting for the cash to arrive.

This practice of capturing and ransoming enemies sounds like a material improvement to the violent nature of the early medieval world. But unfortunately it had unintended consequences that led to more, rather than less violence.

As we get into the 10th and 11th century feuding became more and more common in particular in France. The reason for that was that the risk involved in feuding had reduced dramatically. Advances in armour had reduced the risk of getting killed in fighting, and that would only be a risk where the feuding lords did indeed meet in open battle rather than just burning down each other’s villages. The higher survival rate and the practice of releasing fellow aristocrats for ransom meant they would be back in their castle a few months later once a cash had been exchanged.

At that point the downside of armed conflict with your neighbour became solely financial. And proud knights were trained not to look after the pennies, so that feuds proliferated. In particular in areas where the central authority was weak or even non-existent like France from the 10th century and the empire after the death of Henry III in the 11th century. More feuds meant more dead peasants, more burned down villages, churches and even monasteries.

The latter is where the strain of chivalry comes in, the Christian religion. The way this is usually told is that the church was seeking ways to restrain the amount of violence by making the chevaliers swear an oath not to fight from Thursday to Sunday, to spare women, children, unarmed prelates, and even merchants etc., etc. And, yes, it is true that many bishops and abbots called large gatherings where the knights present were made to swear solemn oaths before holy relics to keep the peace sanctioned by eternal damnation.

But to claim there was a huge standoff between the bellicose warrior aristocrats and the peace-loving churchmen is just plain wrong. The bishops and abbots were the brothers and cousins of the knights and counts. They had grown up together and often shared the same upbringing, education and training.

And not just that. These thuggish plunderers were as devoted Christians as everybody else in medieval western Europe. These men cared deeply about their souls and struggled quite profoundly with the chasm that existed between their profession and lifestyle on one side and the teachings of the bible, not only the new testament’s turning the other cheek, but even the Old Testament’s, though shalt not kill and though shalt not covet your neighbours house, wife, servants, ox, donkey or anything.

We hear of knights wholeheartedly repenting their sins. That usually meant donating land or rights to monasteries. In some cases knights would end their years as monks relentlessly praying for forgiveness. 

One of these repentant sinners was an early grand masters of the Teutonic Knights, Konrad, the Landgrave of Thuringia. Konrad had captured and completely destroyed the city of Fritzlar in some feud or war. After that he was so wrecked by guilt for what he had done, he went to Fritzlar to do penance. Here is what happened according to the chronicle by Nicolaus of Jeroschin, quote: “Bareheaded and barefoot he walked around the churchyard at the head of a procession and then he lay down at the door of the churchyard in that town and offered to allow himself to be beaten by the people there with a rod which he was carrying as recompense for the humiliation and the crimes he had inflicted on them. When no-one hit him he did not give up: he went from house to house through the town falling on his knees at every door. He pleaded with the occupants to come out and beat him as much as they wished for his sins. He shed many tears begging them to forgive him for the guilt he had incurred and that is what happened. Many people wept with him out of sympathy for the violent emotions called forth by his penitence. The prince went right through the city and was not beaten at all except by an old woman who struck him so hard on the body with the sharp rod that she drew blood, taking revenge for his sin. The lord suffered this patiently.”

We do not know whether or not that was indeed what happened and whether he did this voluntarily may be debated. But this was a story the Teutonic Knights told each other about their venerable forebearers as an example of knightly behaviour.  We can assume that a high aristocrat, cousin of the emperor humiliating himself in such a fashion shows that penance for acts of violence was something the knights had to and were willing to accept.

And it also shows the fundamental contradiction at the centre of chivalry.

On the one hand knights have been trained and conditioned to be warriors. That was the way to gain the respect of your fellow men, to defend your family and to become wealthy. It wasn’t just a skill, but a way of life, a way of life every male in their family had lived since time immemorial and that chivalric literature celebrated.

But on the other hand the knights realised that all this violence was in total contravention of their religious beliefs. Jesus had preached about peace, about turning the other cheek, had steadied Paul’s sword and let’s not forget accepted the state’s violence against the son of god. And even the more warlike old testament is full of suggestions to turn swords into ploughshares.

This is an unsustainable situation. The elites of western europe are told every Sunday at mass that their main raison d’etre will land them in hell. And the people who told the warriors that they should cut the fighting were the bishops and abbots, who in turn were their own brothers, sons and cousins.

In light of that these Truces of God take on a very different meaning. If the rule is that one isn’t allowed to kill peasants  from Thursday to Sunday, it implies it is perfectly ok to kill them on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. If the murder and rape of women, children and prelates is banned, it implies that slaughtering adult males must be acceptable, provided it is a Tuesday.

This inverse interpretation of the Truce of God provided relief from spiritual torment for many, but the more thoughtful souls realised that this was a mere fig leaf.

And by the 11th century the third pillar of chivalry was erected. This one does not trace back to an ancient cultural notion but is a genuine invention of the Middle Ages, the idea of courtly love. Courtly love is the concept that a good knight would become an even better knight through the devotion to a woman, ideally a lady of much higher social standing who was completely unobtainable.

This concept of male devotion is a very European cultural ideal that you will not find to the same degree in other cultures and that has also largely disappeared in the modern world. Imagine a first  class footballer like Ronaldo, Messi, Tony Kroos or Sergio Agüero would declare on television that his unrequited love for Kate Middleton is what had made him so great.

The place where all these different strains of chivalry come together is the tournament. A tournament provided the opportunity to display one’s skill as a warrior by competing with fellow aristocrats who all had willingly accepted the risk of getting maimed or killed in the process. No women, orphans and prelates anywhere in sight. A victor could display knightly magnanimity towards his defeated opponent by letting him live and gain riches by accepting the other’s weapons and horse as ransom for his release. And finally a knight could dedicate his performance to a lady of his choosing, thereby declaring his devotion. Ut despite all its advantages in bridging the inherent contradictions in chivalry, the church still banned them as frivolous wastes of blood and money.

This is the situation on the verge of the crusades. The social elite, the warrior class of Europe had developed a code of conduct that was sending them to hell and all attempts at finding a compromise with the church had failed.

That may explain the tremendous and unforeseen success of Urban II’s call for the first crusade in 1095. Crusades offered the opportunity to apply all the skills a knight had learned over the years and apply it to a purpose that was pleasing to God. Instead of being condemned to eternal domination for killing people, in the crusade he would gain heaven for doing the same thing, just to non-Christians. Knights from all over Europe joined the crusades, many truly seeking salvation, others looking to find a way through the maze of conflicting expectations.

The first crusade had been a truly unbelievable success. Sending out an army for thousands of miles without functioning supply lines to take on an enemy that was economically and militarily far superior would normally be called a suicide mission. And for many that is what it turned out to be. But some made it to Jerusalem and even conquered the city. And that is where the problems began.

The kingdom of Jerusalem had a serious security problem. Once the city was taken and the pilgrims had prayed at all the holy sites, most of the crusaders returned home. After all they had not come to settle in the Holy Land, just to free the sites.

At the same time as the military leaders and their retinue shipped in for France and England, the arriving ships brought new, mostly unarmed pilgrims keen to pray not just at the Holy Sepulchre but in Bethlehem, Nazareth, the Sea of Galilee and Jericho to name a few. Travelling there was extremely dangerous. The Muslim neighbours of the crusader state had remained unsurprisingly hostile, but more importantly, the kingdom of Jerusalem lacked the resources to clear the roads of thieves and brigands. Pilgrims tell of bodies of murdered travellers lining the roads as it was too dangerous to stop and bury them.

It is in that situation that a French knight from Champagne, Hugh de Paynes vowed in 1119 to set up a pilgrim protection service. Together with some of his friends he undertook to accompany pilgrims on their journeys. The king of Jerusalem, Baldwin II was delighted and gave them quarters in a wing of the royal place that stood near the Al Aqsa Mosque on the Temple Mount, which is why this band of knights became known as the Templars. They initially set up convoys protected by knights but later set up permanently manned castles that controlled and secured key pilgrim routes.

This new religious confraternity were a huge success. Whilst a crusade was by definition a temporary endeavour, the Templars were a permanent outlet for young men seeking to combine their training as efficient killing machines with piety. More and more of these joined. At the same time, the pilgrims who had enjoyed the protection of the Templars, their friends and family back home and after a while anyone who wanted to make a contribution to the crusading effort donated whatever they could. That could range from ones best cloak, to a horse, a small plot of land to the king of Aragon who wanted to grant the Templars a third of his kingdom.

There was however one major problem with all this. The Templars had quite early on decided they wanted to be a religious community. A broadly sensible thing to do as the idea was to create a lasting organisation and nothing in the medieval world was more built for eternity than monasteries. The issue was that there had been a longstanding rule that clerics were not allowed to yield swords. And this rule had generally been observed. Even though there were many a warlike bishop, they would go to some lengths to remain at least within the letter of the law, if not the spirit. Some bishops would just act as generals directing operations without taking up a sword themselves, others would get into the melee with axes, clubs and maces, as long as these weren’t swords.

That is where our least favourite saint, St. Bernhard of Clairvaux comes in. He is well aware of the sound theological basis for the ban on violence (you know stuff like turn the other cheek, thou shalt not kill, love thy enemy, swords to ploughshare). But that cannot hold back this fervent warrior of Christ. He fully embraces this new Knighthood exclaiming (quote):

“What a glory to return in victory from such a battle! How blessed to die there as a martyr! Rejoice, brave athlete, if you live and conquer in the Lord; but glory and exult even more if you die and join your Lord. Life indeed is a fruitful thing and victory is glorious, but a holy death is more important than either. If they are blessed who die in the Lord, how much more are they who die for the Lord!”(end quote)

I am pretty sure I have heard something similar not too long ago.

As we know, Saint Bernhard of Clairvaux is the most powerful man in europe, more powerful than either pope or emperor. Two years after Bernhard publishes his praise of the Templars, pope Innocent II recognises them as a military religious order, a religious community that is allowed to kill heathens, pagans and all other sorts of misguided souls. Moreover he allowed them to build their own oratories, relieved them from paying the tithe and freed from the authority of any bishop, being subject to the pope alone.

That was in 1139. In the meantime the Templars had grown dramatically, both in number and in wealth. Their activity had expanded from the protection of pilgrims to the manning of outlying castles to being defenders of the crusader states. Templars take on significant military roles in particular during and following the second crusade.

But as you probably know, the Templars weren’t the only early military order. There were also the Knights of St. John or Knights Hospitaller as they are known too.

Their origin is too driven by the practicalities of medieval Palestine. It wasn’t only the roads that were dangerous in the Holy Land. There was also the heat and diseases the pilgrims bodies weren’t used to. Many travellers set out for the Holy Lands were already elderly, doing penance for a long life of contraventions against the rules of the church. A lot of them died there.

Hence there was a need for hospitals. There had been Christian hospitals in Jerusalem since the 7th century and all throughout the time of Muslim rule. In 1023, 75 years before the First crusade, merchants from Amalfi obtained the right to rebuild the hospital and Benedictine monastery of St. John next to the church of the Holy Sepulchre to care for Christian pilgrims. Once Jerusalem had fallen to the Latins, the kings gave land to the hospital and they opened daughter hospitals across the Holy Land.  In 1113 the hospital congregation was given a new rule by pope Paschalis II. That rule was designed for a congregation of monks who intended to care for the sick and wounded. Their order stood very much in the established ecclesiastical tradition of St. Benedict and the Augustin friars.  

And they would have remained just another pious order had it not been for the leadership of a French knight, Raymon de Puy. It is during his tenure as Grand master that the Hospitallers gradually transformed into a military order, offering support to the pilgrims en route, manning castles and ultimately sending 500 knights and retinue into a campaign in Egypt. Knights were admitted as brothers since 1150 but it took until 1204 before the statutes were formally turning the Knights Hospitallers into a military order.

By 1190 the Templars and the Hospitallers are the only important military orders in the Holy Land. Their founders, leaders and members were mainly French, Spanish and English. The reason so few Germans got involved had nothing to do with nationalism, but mostly with the fact that very few Germans made it to the Holy Land in the first and second crusade.

The first crusade took place in 1195 to 1199, a period which is still dominated by the Investiture Controversy. Henry IV is still emperor and he is not inclined to help the hateful pope Urban II. Many of the great imperial princes fear that if they leave on crusade, the emperor or his enemies will seize their lands.

That being said, there are many people of the lower classes who catch the crusading fever and set off barefoot to walk to Jerusalem, the vast majority of them perishing en route or sre finally routed by the Turks in Anatolia.

Of the few nobles who set out for Jerusalem, most see their endeavour descending into an orgy of blood and horror when they brutally ransacked the Jewish communities in the Rhineland. They find their route blocked at the Hungarian border and made to return home. If you want to hear that again, it was in episode 38 – The First Crusade.

The first time an emperor tried his hand at crusading was the Second crusade. The county of Edessa had fallen and the crusader states were feeling the heat from the recovering Muslim states in the region. Konrad III – encouraged by the inevitable Bernhard of Clairvaux – set off in 1147 with a huge army to recapture Edessa. That was another epic failure. Konrad had refused to coordinate with the other Western monarchs, trying to get to Edessa first and win all the glory. On the way there he alienated the Byzantine emperor mainly by burning and plundering his lands. Once he had got into Anatolia, things went from bad to worse. Refusing advice from the Byzantines about the route, he retraced the way the first crusade had taken. That journey ended in Dorylaeum. Worn down by the lack of supplies, the heat and the constant attacks the imperial army stood no chance against the Sultan of Konya and his vast army of swift horsemen. Konrad III barely escaped alive and had to seek refuge with Louis VII, the king of France who had travelled a few days behind him. He and some of the imperial princes made it to Jerusalem in the end, never even attempted to retake Edessa, instead made the stupid decision to attack Damascus and then returned home, leaving the kingdom of Jerusalem in an even more precarious situation than before. Episode 49 – Conrad’s Catastrophe if you want to go through that shocking sequence of errors and arrogance again.

One young prince who had been with Konrad during the Second Crusade, will make his own go at it some 40 years later. Frederick I, Barbarossa led an army much larger than his uncle Konrad’s through Hungary, Bulgaria, the Byzantine empire and through Anatolia without severe losses. He even conquered the city of Konya the place Konrad III had so desperately hoped he could get to before his supplies ran out. But just as the army was descending the Cilician gates heading into the safety of Armenia the aged emperor took a dip in the river Saleph, a dip from which he did not resurface. This was a clear sign of God’s displeasure with the whole enterprise and the enormous army rapidly dissolved. Only a rump entity led by Barbarossa’s son, duke Frederick of Swabia pressed on further to Acre. If you want to hear that story again, it was in Episode 65 – The Third Crusade

Acre is where the armies of the Third Crusade, those of king Philipp Augustus Of France, Richard the Lionheart of England and the remainder of the great imperial host had gathered. Jerusalem and the rest of the crusader state had fallen to Saladin a few years earlier. The Latins were clinging on to a small stretch of land along the coast. Acre was a great fortress that once taken would make a suitable temporary capital of the kingdom.

This is the year 1190, the first time we see a material involvement of imperial forces in the crusades and it is also the year the Teutonic Order is founded, as a field hospital during that famous siege of Acre.

According to the chronicler Peter of Duisburg this modest hospital under a sail from a cog was a hit with all the great princes assembled before Acre. He lists them all, from Lord Eymar of Caesaria to Bishop Conrad of Wurzburg, all praising the good work being done here. And urging duke Frederic of Swabia to write to his brother, the emperor Henry VI to endorse this new order and compel the pope to grant them a charter that puts them on par with the Templars and Hospitallers.

If that had been true, it would have been truly remarkable. Just remember who founded the field hospital of the Germans before Acre? It wasn’t some great prince, not even a lord, a knight, an aristocrat as well connected as Hugh de Paynes of the Templars or Raymond de Puy of the Hospitallers. No none of the above. At least some other kind of important crusader, a bishop, abbot, the patriarch maybe. All the sources are unanimous, it was some unnamed merchants from Bremen and Lubeck who set up the hospital, cared for the sick and thereby  founded the Teutonic Knights. And they had come here, not on the hard route through the Balkans and Turkey, no, these guys had come by ship. They had taken their cogs and sailed them through the Channel, across the bay of Biscay, down the Spanish coast, through the straits of Gibraltar via Sicily and Cyprus to Palestine. And now their old worn-out sail protects exhausted and delirious wounded men from the unrelenting sun.

This is a modest start. These guys may well get some sponsorship from Frederick of Swabia who was an able commander and surely recognised how important it was to have a hospital staffed with personnel who spoke his soldiers native tongue. So he may well have given them support and advised his brother of their existence and that it would be worth to give them imperial endorsement.

But that suddenly the crème de la crème of Europe would have gathered around a field hospital to give them a leg up into the big league, that sounds a bit far-fetched.

Still, Pope Celestin takes the new hospital under its protection in 1191. Once the city of Acre had fallen in Latin hands, the hospital receives land and income from King Guy so that the field hospital can become a permanent institution. In 1196 they receive another set of privileges from pope Celestine III like the right to burial, which opened new sources of income. When and how the transformation from a hospital congregation to a military order took place is a bit unclear. That was probably around 1198 when another contingent of German crusaders arrived in Acre. Barbarossa’s son, emperor Henry VI had taken the cross in 1195 but died before he could set sail. These German guys arriving in 1198 were the advance guard of a crusade that never happened.

It seems as if the Hospital of St. Mary of the Germans as it was called had played a role in Henry VI. plans for his crusade. At least the hospital received generous donations from the emperor. He may have also suggested to those men who set out for Acre to join this new order.

This sponsorship by the Hohenstaufen family was crucial for the rise of the Teutonic Knights from relative obscurity. But it cannot explain what would make a German knight in search of redemption for his sins and looking for a chance of guilt-free killing choose to join a humble hospital rather than the glamorous Templars or Hospitallers.

Was it the language issue. Sure that matters when you are lying in agony on a blood splattered mattress and want to hear some reassuring words, but does it matter what language they speak when you are feasting, hunting and fighting with the finest knights in Christendom.

Was there a major rift between the French and English crusaders on one side and the Imperial Germans on the other? Well, it was the siege of Acre where Richard the Lionheart insulted the duke of Austria which led to his imprisonment and final ransom by emperor Henry VI. That story had surely made its way to Palestine. But it is unlikely to have led to resentment. Richard the Lionheart may be an English hero in the eyes of 19th century British historians, his contemporaries disliked him profoundly. The reason he was captured in Austria was purely down to the fact that he travelled via Vienna. He would have been apprehended pretty much anywhere he would have tried to get home. He chose this detour via the Alps to avoid the kingdom of France where his arch-enemy Philipp Augustus would have never released him.

To understand the appeal of the Teutonic Knights, we have to get back to the whole theme of chivalry. The code of conduct of chivalry applied only to noble knights, noble ladies and presumably noble orphans and prelates. Non-aristocrats were neither protected by it nor invited to participate. Only warriors who had been born free and had received the elevation to true knight could join the club.

Now in Germany there were many men who looked like knights, who lived in castles and had armour and warhorses. But what they weren’t knights. They were the Ministeriales, these serf knights who were at least originally not fee men. Even though many of them had been living an aristocratic lifestyle for several generations had married into true aristocratic families, they could not quite shake their servile origins.

It is likely that true aristocratic orders like the Templars and the Hospitallers were reluctant to take on the great- grandson of a slave. The Teutonic knights were free of such snobbish behaviour. After all their founders were some merchants who may well have been from ministeriale families tehmselves. Becoming a Teutonic knight elevated someone from serf knight to true knight. We will see that throughout its history the Teutonic Knights – with few exceptions – recruited mainly from the lower nobility and even their masters, including their greatest master, Hermann von Salza, had been Ministeriales.

And that is who we are going to talk about next week, Hermann von Salza, the man who put the Teutonic Knights on the map. Thanks to Hermann von Salza, the difference between the Teutonic Knights and the other orders is not limited to their recruitment policy. Expect us zipping across the map from Palestine to Egypt, Sicily, Rome, Greece, Armenia, Transylvania and finally Prussia. I hope you will join us again.

Before I go, there are two last items on the agenda. First, I want to again thank those amongst you who have signed up on Patreon at patreon.com/historyofthegermans or who have made a generous one-time donation at historyofthegermans.com. I really, really appreciate your generosity.

And lastly you can find a bibliography in the show notes and in historyofthegermans/resources/bookrecommendations. Check it out. There are a few more English language ones available.