Crusades, then and now

Lately I've become fascinated by the Crusades, and I mean fascinated in the sense that I'm reading books while brushing my teeth in the morning.

One reason may be that the weather here in Michigan has turned to crap, literally cold, rainy, and painful:


and I've been thinking of how nearly every battle during the Crusades was fought in the scorching desert heat of the Levant. Lucky bastards. Another reason may be that I saw the 2005 Ridley Scott movie Kingdom of Heaven on DVD and liked it. A lot. Enough to want to check out how trebuchets really worked, who this Saladin guy really was, and how a bunch of religious zealots could triumph over more level-headed men in the conduct of war. Hey, wait a minute....

Whatever the reason, I've picked up two books on the Crusades. The first, Jose Saramago's History of the Siege of Lisbon, is only peripherally about the Crusades and more about a proofreader who decides to change one word in a manuscript about the Crusades, thus setting off a butterfly effect. The second, James Reston Jr.'s Warriors of God, is a more straightforward history of the Crusades, especially of the Third one, but not at all dry. The man can write.

As I brushed my teeth this morning, the toothpaste tube held open the pages of Warriors of God describing the Battle of Cresson. In May of 1187, a Muslim force of 7000 ventured west of the Sea of Galilee doing reconnaisance in territory overseen by a Christian count with whom a truce had been struck. Given forewarning, a band of 130 Crusaders, including the Masters of the two principal orders, the Templars and the Hospitalers, gathered to watch the Muslims from a nearby hilltop arguing over whether they should attack. Eventually, the Master of the Templars won out, citing how their forefathers "overcame the enemy not by force of numbers but by faith and justice and observing God's mandates." He turned his horse toward the Muslims and charged; the others followed. By morning, all but five of the Crusaders were dead and 60 of their heads were on pikes.

An undersized military force charging into a Middle Eastern land at the behest of a single man who believes that he has God on his side and that victory is certain. Hmmm.... To believe that miracles can happen, that's faith. To believe that you can make miracles happen, that's hubris.