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Alfred Packer

Off Again
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Jun 3, 2007
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23 June 1186 – Church of the Holy Sepulchre, Jerusalem.


Guy de Lusignan was in a somber mood that day. For most people this moment would be one of total joy. Guy had, after all, accomplished the highly improbable.


He was born the third son of a lesser French Count. He was fortunate not to wind up in a monastery. Instead, through sheer determination, raw courage and blind luck, he was at this moment being crowned the uncontested King of Jerusalem.


The sun shown and the Patriarch chanted in Latin, raising the crown high before placing it onto Guy’s head. As the tremendous weight of the ceremonial ornament caused him to momentarily buckle, Guy’s thoughts wandered back to the preceding days, the events that led to this moment.


He was Regent of the Kingdom and titled the Prince Consort, married to the Queen Mother Sybille and mentor to the young King Badouin Monferrato.


The Regency was approaching its end and Guy was trying very hard to impart on his young charge the importance of the Kingdom itself, after all the throne rested on truly sacred ground. Even Rome was only the second city of God.


He had also been busy stressing the fragility of the Kingdom. The nation could call upon around 20,000 soldiers – so long as all the vassals obeyed the summons, which rarely happened. By comparison, the Ayyubid Empire of Saladin, which totally surrounded Jerusalem, could call up over 100,000 troops and Saladin’s Emirs always obeyed him. At the same time, the country was too poor to sustain even 5,000 men in the field for more than a few months without emptying the treasury and the periodic crusades only really served to fill Jerusalem with over-eager and over-bearing Westerners only too happy to infuriate and assault powerful local Muslims and then depart, leaving the Kingdom of Jerusalem to deal with the long term consequences. Occasionally, the Crusading orders would appropriate whole provinces to support their private wars. Private wars which usually failed and lost these lands to Muslims, further weakening the nation. Guy had spent his whole regency devoted to nothing more than the strengthening and preservation of God’s Kingdom. He wanted to see that work continue, but Badouin scared him.


The young man had grand plans. He planned to invade Antioch immediately, to assert the Kingdom’s old claims on the Prince. He planned to make war on the Ayyubids in order to recreate Edessa. He planned to add a new dominion in Egypt. He even planned to tackle the Emperor of Constantinople. No matter how much Guy tried, the young man could not – or would not – understand the costs of such plans. “Money can always be acquired” is not responsible fiscal policy.


Finally, Guy came to a horrible decision. He had surrendered his life to this Kingdom. He would not step aside and let this foolish youth destroy what he had worked so hard for. Jerusalem was too fragile to survive such a fool-hardy ruler.


Contacting the Old Man of the Mountain was easy enough. The Hospitaliers, though forbidden by the Pope, had a longstanding relationship with him. For a supply of gold and a series of “safe-houses” throughout the kingdom, the deal was struck. It had to appear an accident, much to the Old Man’s chagrin. His subjects preferred much more public and flamboyant executions. The young man suffered an unfortunate fall from a window.


BadouinFalls.jpg

Badouin falls from the tower - the Lusignan Tapestry

Guy was not a monster, he felt terrible guilt over the boy’s death, but he had done what needed to be done. He watched over the Kingdom of Jerusalem. That the young man’s death would terminate the line of kings and leave him, effective ruler for the last decade, as the only viable ruler did factor into his decision, but if young Badouin had shown any real promise, Guy assured himself, he never would have resorted to murder.


Guy rose unsteadily to his feet, Marshal of the Realm Gerard de Ridefort, an old friend and confidant, rose and helped support the massive crown. To the sounds of horns and chanting, Guy turned and strode confidently out of the church, now the true King of Jerusalem. The crowds outside cheered as his officials generously distributed special silver pennies struck just for this occasion. Once he had waved and walked through the throngs about the church, Girard pulled the crown off of his head. Guy replaced it with the lighter diadem he had always insisted young Badouin wear. Along with the rest of the Royal court Guy de Lusignan mounted his horse and rode back to The Citadel, the armored heart of the city and the kingdom.

GuyCrowned.jpg

Guy Crowned King of Jerusalem - Lusignan Tapestry


As always, there was much work to be done.
 
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1187

25 December 1187 – Kingdom of Jerusalem – The Citadel


Guy sat by the fireplace drinking wine and brooding. It had been a difficult first year. The Great Vassals – the Dukes of Tripoli and Oultrejourdain and the Counts of Beruit and Beersheb – had all accepted him, critical to the survival of the Kingdom. The Prince of Antioch had refused fealty, but that had been expected. The Princes of Antioch had always walked a fine line between defying both the Lords of Constantinople and of Jerusalem.


The lesser nobility – superstitiously tied to the Monferratos – had rebelled, even though there were no viable Monferratos to take the throne.


The native population, mostly the Muslims, had seen the discontent as their chance to end the Kingdom from within.


The rioting started in Acre in January. Marshal Gerard launched the first of what would be many lightning campaigns, crushing them within a week and launching a cleansing blood-bath which reduced the followers of the prophet to an absolute minority within the population. Such an action always had drawbacks, the most obvious being that this utter depopulation of the countryside impoverished the County.


GerardatAcre.jpg

Marshal Gerard at Acre - Lusignan Tapestry


Marshal Gerard’s violent quelling of the Acre rebellion cowed the rest of the natives throughout the spring and summer, until the Marshal took ill in July.


Trapped in his sick-bed Gerard struck fear into no one. The Muslims of Jerusalem rose up, laying siege to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and trapping Guy and his guard in the Citadel. Those were tough days, and the Kingdom was only saved by the timely intervention of Duke Raymond of Tripoli and 3,000 Knights. Like Acre before, the Muslims were slaughtered until Jerusalem was truly a Christian province.


Finally, in September, Tyrus rebelled as well. Gerard was still ill, but Guy had wanted to lead this expedition himself. Perhaps, he had surmised, a true royal show of power would put a stop to these trouble-makers. Ultimately, the violence meted out to the Muslims of Tyrus equaled that visited upon those of Jerusalem and Acre. Witnessing the destruction first-hand made Guy physically ill, something he only barely hid from his soldiers. Even so, he was compelled by his conscience to ransom Muslim women and children, providing them escort to Damascus, where the refugees were welcomed with open arms. The Year of Blood, as 1187 was known by Muslims within and without the Kingdom, would be long remembered.


It was in quiet and lonely moments, such as this late Christmas night, that King Guy would reflect upon these images and sins. It made him sad, for he knew that he would have to make others suffer and die in order to keep the Kingdom of Jerusalem safe and strong. It was fitting, he thought, that the ceremonial crown weighed so mightily on his head, for this was not an easy and pleasant land to rule over. Hard and painful decisions needed to be made every day. He hoped that protecting this city for Christ would buy him forgiveness.


Guy stared long at his empty wine glass before he hurled it into the fireplace and went to bed.
 
Hm. I am interested in how you handle Jerusalem's internal matters and whether the bloodshed will continue.
 
Alfred, Boy are you busy! How do you find time to write at such speed, length and quality? Love the screenies - where did you get the typeface from?
 
A very promising start. *subscribes*
The Kingdom of Jerusalem in 1187 is an interesting faction with far to few AARs about it.
I like the style of your narrative. It is direct and yet touching. Let's see whether Guy can survive the onslaught of Saladin's armies that will surly come soon.

~Lord Valentine~
 
Lord Valentine said:
A very promising start. *subscribes*
The Kingdom of Jerusalem in 1187 is an interesting faction with far to few AARs about it.
I like the style of your narrative. It is direct and yet touching. Let's see whether Guy can survive the onslaught of Saladin's armies that will surly come soon.

~Lord Valentine~

thanks for the thumbs up! So far Guy has been lucky, at least in foreign relations - but then he's been careful not to provoke the Ayyubids...
 
1188

13 March 1188 – Kingdom of Jerusalem – King’s Castle, Acre

Guy had spent the whole night and the better part of the preceding day on his knees in the Royal Chapel. He had refused both food a drink and was now quite light headed. He knew that he would not be able to sit here forever, eventually he would need to face the world again. Face his wife again.

The New Year had not started any better than the old had ended. The only bright spot had come in January when his nephew Jean de Lusignan was given command of a company of Turkish light cavalry. Jean was only seven, so the command was purely ceremonial. Guy had no sons, though, and he loved Jean as his own. The moment carried a great deal of fatherly pride for the King.

His problems, as they had in 1187, began in Acre. Although Gerard’s show of force had crushed any Muslim resistance in the county, the petty land-holders and the minor nobles were still unwilling to accept his rule. They once more rose the banner of revolution. Once more King Guy was forced to march out with his Jerusalem forces and crush them.


AcreRebels.jpg

Acre's Second Rebellion - Lusignan Tapestry


His soldiers could not be controlled. That was the part eating at Guy’s soul. The 3,000 men he had brought to Acre had quickly annihilated the small 250 man force that had dared to defy him. Once their enemies had been slain, the soldiers, accustomed to rapine and violence after a battle, from the Muslim suppressions, proceeded to sack and destroy the Christian farms, killing women, children and the elderly irrespective of religion or social standing.

What bothered Guy was that he couldn’t blame his soldiers, though many were hung for their crimes. After all, this was how the soldiers had been trained to behave during the Year of Blood. This was a machine of his making. Ignoring for a moment the outcry this would bring the length and breadth of the realm, these were the very people who had risked all to settle on the edges of civilization. The Kingdom served not only to protect God’s City, it was also supposed to protect these Christians.

These events caused him to drink far too heavily that night, but it was the events that followed that epic drinking binge that led him to his knees in the chapel. Guy, a faithful and chaste man, had slept with a serving girl. He, the King of Jerusalem, had followed a day of murdering his fellow Christians with a night of adultery. It seemed unlikely that anyone would ever find out, the girl had been well paid to disappear, with Gerard’s assistance and only Gerard, still ill but supportive as always, even knew what had happened. But Guy knew.

---------------------------------------------------

18 November 1188 – Kingdom of Jerusalem – King’s Castle, Acre

Guy nervously paced the halls of the castle. This was not how he’d planned to see the year out for, as the screams form the Royal Apartments attested, his child was being born. The child was not being born to his wife Sybille, who had taken up residence in Ascalon following Guy’s tearful confession of adultery. No, this child was being born to a certain young Abbess, whose position in a small nunnery in the County of Beruit, had been purchased with Royal coins and at the personal intervention of the Marshal of the Realm. The pregnancy was an unwelcome development, and Gerard, who had kept the girl under watch since that fateful night, assured the king that the child was definitely his.

Guy rubbed his eyes and continued to pray that the child was a girl. A girl who could disappear back into the nunnery with her mother.

To think, the king pondered wryly, the year had gone so well otherwise. Gerard had recovered from his illness and riots in Ascalon had been successfully averted by the ending of serfdom in the county, a move unpopular with the nobility but cheered by Christian and Muslim peasants alike. Most importantly, his terrible army had been kept in their barracks.


Ascalon-Serfdom.jpg

The Great Charter of Ascalon - Lusignan Tapestry


A series of Royal Posts to be scattered throughout the Kingdom were under construction, a move which Guy hoped would allow Royal Power to be felt anywhere at a moment’s notice. This, he fervently hoped, would further cow the population without requiring more slaughter.

The door opened, creaking ominously, and the midwife walked out holding a swaddled bundle. Guy swallowed hard.

“Your Majesty, it is a boy.”

Guy’s head spun, his world reeled around him. A son. His only son. A bastard. He could never be King. The whole world would one day know of his sin. Thoughts of exposing the child and killing the midwife, hiding his sin, raced through his mind, but he could not do it.

His only son.

“Is he well?” Guy heard himself ask the woman as he lifted the child into his arms.

“He is, Your Majesty.” The midwife cast her eyes downward and curtseyed, as was proper.

Reluctantly, Guy nodded. “I shall call him Archambaut. Archambaut,” he hesitated for a moment, “Archambaut de Lusignan.”

ArchambautB.jpg

The birth of the Royal Bastard - Lusignan Tapestry
 
No serfdom! Interesting!

And yes, a bastard - could be legitimized, in time, of course.

And mediaeval armies - terrible stuff.
 
Wow. I am amazed (and delighted as I might add) at the pace of your updates. :)
Poor Guy. He is having a hard time. How unfortunate for him that its still over 300 years until Martin Luther will preach that faith alone can save a mans soul.
Anyway I am secretly hoping that against all odds Archambaut will in the end succeed his father.

~Lord Valentine~
 
Intriguing. And those tapestries are great!

(IIRC, you have mistyped the title of first post, its sepulchre, or Sanctum Sepulchrum if you want to go for latin, which I suggest:))
 
Herbert West said:
Intriguing. And those tapestries are great!

(IIRC, you have mistyped the title of first post, its sepulchre, or Sanctum Sepulchrum if you want to go for latin, which I suggest:))

I figured as much...I blame MS Word's spellcheck...yeah...that's the ticket! :)

(corrected to English version because I will never remember the Latin in the future)
 
Lord Valentine said:
Anyway I am secretly hoping that against all odds Archambaut will in the end succeed his father.

~Lord Valentine~

It's kind of funny, Guy has wound up being a far more sympathetic character than I thought he would before I started putting his thoughts on paper.
 
1189-1190

17 October 1190 – Kingdom of Jerusalem – Church of the Holy Sepulchre – Jerusalem

Guy stood stiffly in the church. As the Patriarch intoned the funeral liturgy, he rubbed his rosary beads while tears streamed unchecked down his cheeks. A few feet away, Sybille was glaring at him. She had made it perfectly clear at the vigil that this was all his fault. Guy had not disagreed with her, though he felt there was blame enough to be shared.

1189 had opened with what were now almost routine uprisings, first in Jaffa then in Irbid. There were always some local nobles or peasants or Muslims rising up somewhere in the Kingdom. Gerard had not been able taken his seat in the Royal Council in over a year, the Marshal was always somewhere fighting someone. After a while, Guy had become immune to the suffering of the rebels. They’re uprisings had become far too common-place to draw more than an irritated sigh whenever a messenger arrived at the Citadel.

Not even the massive series of Royal Posts, completed over the summer of 1189 brought an end to the endemic unrest, though it did limit the effectiveness of the rebels. By early 1190, it had brought something else: The ambitious sergeant commanding the turcoples of the Jaffa Post arrived personally at the Citadel on a cool March morning. He brought with him a prisoner and a small bag containing the charred remains of the prisoner’s feet.


Sgt_Rogier.jpg

Sergeant Rogier arrives at the Citadel - Lusignan Tapestry


Guy did not inquire as to how the feet wound up in such a state, what mattered was what the prisoner had to say. It was a lot. It seems that many of these uprisings, the ones led by free-men and the petty nobles, were linked. There was a long term plan to replace Guy by whatever means with his daughter Bourguigne and then to force her to marry a de Monferrato, restoring what they saw as the legitimate line to the throne.

Guy had been both infuriated and exasperated. His daughter was only 4 at the time, first of all. Second, something everyone should have been well aware of, there were no legitimate Monferrato successors. The plan was madness. Of course, it would have gone nowhere, lacking any resources whatsoever, except for one thing: foreign intervention.

The City of Pisa had provided over 600 ducats to the rebel cause, in exchange for which they were to receive exclusive trading rights in Acre once Guy’s daughter wore the diadem.

Marshal Gerard moved quickly, over 8,000 soldiers scoured the countryside, terrorizing rebels into submission and putting any suspects to the torture. Treason of this nature could never be tolerated. Eventually, the ducats were located and seized, with the help of Genoese spies, working only for preferential trading contracts in Jerusalem. Pisa was expelled from their quarters in Tyrus and Acre as punishment.

Although the scheme had been thoroughly crushed, and the Kingdom enriched beyond Guy’s wildest imagination, he still feared for Bourguigne. He feared she might become a pawn in another attempt to usurp him. After a brief exchange of letters with his brother Hugues, Count of Lusignan, it was agreed she would travel there and live at her uncle’s court. The goodbye had been tearful, for Sybille had fought this course of action with all her might. Sybille had even pulled at his heartstrings, pointing out that little Bourgi had always been his favorite. Guy had stood strong. What mattered was not the happiness of Guy de Lusignan, he had told her, what mattered was the Kingdom of Jerusalem.

The ship had barely left the harbour when a sudden storm blew up. With Guy, Sybille and the whole royal family looking on, the ship foundered and sank with all hands. Sybille, after watching the tragedy unfold had simply turned to her thunderstruck husband and coldly hissed, “thus has God repaid your sins.”


Bourguigne_Drowns.jpg

Bourguigne's Ship Founders - Lusignan Tapestry

A sizeable reward had been offered for the recovery of the princess’ body, which was duly paid by her grieving father. He had feared greatly that she could not make it to Heaven if her body wasn’t recovered. King Guy fervently hoped he could see her again there.
 
That's - that's terrible. That's grounds for a permanent, profound change in character . Do I sense one coming?
 
RGB & Valentine:

I think Guy is too depressed to overcome this himself, but he does have a friend looking out for him.

I have a post completed that deals with this issue, but I forgot to post before heading in to work.

So you don't come over here just to see this comment, I am going to make a short post momentarily about a project dear to Guy's heart.
 
1190

2 November 1190 - Ascalon - The Gate of Jerusalem

Guy watched the workmen with only vague interest. His mind wandered as it usually did. Several hundred men were digging a wide but shallow trench alongside the Ascalon-Acre Road. Piled nearby were massive mounds of sand, stone and broken tile. All along the coast of the Kingdom others were doing the same thing. The finest engineers money could buy, whether Saracen or Christian, were hard at work, making sure the trenches would all link up.

Others were poring over ancient Roman documents to learn the secrets of their great roads. From what they had told them, even with the blood money confiscated from the traitors, he could not afford a “true” Roman road, but he was going to get as close as he could. The magnificent road would run the length of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, from Ascalon to Safed. It would speed up troop movements within the kingdom should the circling enemies ever strike. The road would also speed communication between the Royal Posts and the Citadel, helping to manage the internal unrest Jerusalem always faced. Finally, and this was not unimportant, this large high-quality road, protected by the Royal Posts, would help pilgrims, exhausted after their arduous journeys, to reach Jerusalem safely.

Guy wasn’t able to keep even a penny of the rebel’s money in the treasury. Even seeing the gold would make him think of his daughter’s death and left Guy wracked with guilt and sorrow. It felt dirty to profit from those sad events that killed his child. Gerard had advised him to spend it all, maybe commission fine churches throughout the realm to sing prayers to Bourgi for all eternity. Guy had liked the idea. It would have been a fitting way to spend the ill-gotten money, but he could not do it.

No, the Kingdom of Jerusalem mattered more than Guy de Lusignan. He repeated this to himself always. It was why he decided to glorify God through a road rather than through prayers for his lost daughter. It was what kept him in his saddle, watching the workmen as they pushed his new road along. He was waiting, you see, for them to reach the first mile so he could personally place the first marker. The first mile marker was already carved and inscribed. It was loaded in a small wagon which traveled behind the Royal party.




The inscription was simple, showing a large numeral ‘I’ and the words “to Ascalon.” The name of the road was also inscribed upon the stone, “Via Bourgi.”




GuyDedicatesRoad.jpg

Guy places the first Mile Marker - Lusignan Tapestry
 
Perhaps work manages to distract Guy from his sorrow, although I feel this is a wound that will never fully heal. With the Saracen threat still looming I hope Guy will be strong willed enough to endure it.

~Lord Valentine~