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The Islamic countryside and food supplies to the Levantine crusader cities in the first half of the twelfth century

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  27 December 2024

Khaled Abdel Badea Radwan*
Affiliation:
Department of History and Civilization, Faculty of Arts, Sohag University, Sohag, Egypt
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Abstract

After the Franks settled in the Levant, they sought a permanent logistic alternative to provide them with food. The first half of the twelfth century was the most significant challenge for the Franks when they sought to contribute to agricultural work in the Levant and participate in its economic system. Therefore, they were bound to deal with two natural and indispensable parallel aspects: First, entering into relations with the neighbouring Islamic environment and handling the positive or negative implications and second establishing settlement bases in this environment. This paper delves into Arab sources and rereads European narratives, trying to highlight the role of the Islamic countryside in providing a share of the food supplies of the Crusader cities, a matter that scholars have not addressed properly yet

Type
Research Article
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Copyright
© The Author(s), 2025. Published by Cambridge University Press

In the winter of 1142, while the Byzantine Emperor John II Komnenos expressed his desire to visit Jerusalem, Fulk, King of Jerusalem, apologised to him, explaining his position in a letter, ‘The Kingdom is of very limited extent, nor does it afford sufficient food for so large a host. It could not sustain such an army without the risk of famine resulting from an utter dearth of the necessities of life’. Fulk expressed the city’s ability to receive only ten thousand of the emperor’s soldiersFootnote 1. Although this King had implied political reasons, his justifications did not go beyond what was right.

Indeed, food supplies were one of the great problems facing the Crusaders when they attacked the LevantFootnote 2. They were exposed to food crises during their invasion of the major cities, Antioch, Jerusalem, and TripoliFootnote 3, especially with the limited and irregular arrival of European supplies, which included wheat, wine, barley, meat, and cheeseFootnote 4. This forced the Crusaders to attack many local villages and plunder their cropsFootnote 5. They later became accustomed to fighting during the harvest season so as not to suffer from a shortage of food suppliesFootnote 6.

The provision of wheat was the essential requirement of the Franks when they settled in the Levant, but winds, storms, and pirate attacks were fierce obstacles to ships arriving with wheat from Byzantium, Cyprus, and SicilyFootnote 7. Also, the Italian cities’ efforts to bring in wheat and food supplies were feeble, at least until the mid-1130sFootnote 8. Claude Cahen, Jean Richard, and Joshua Prawer argued that the Franks in Antioch, Tripoli, Galilee, and Tiberias planted wheat in the outskirts and achieved self-sufficiencyFootnote 9. It seems that these historians were influenced by the accounts of European travellers who were dominated by religious sentiment and evangelical references, as those travellers attempted to draw an ideal picture of Frankish life in the East instead of understanding their political and societal realityFootnote 10.

This paper attempts to re-image the first fifty years of the Franks in the Levant, highlighting the importance of the Islamic countryside in securing their food supplies. Therefore, it relies on three vital pillars: first, highlighting the important crops cultivated in the Islamic countryside neighbouring the Franks and how much they benefited from them; secondly, studying the Frankish administration of the Islamic countryside villages, understanding the extent of its interaction with feudal influences; thirdly, reimagining the purpose of building Frankish castles and fortresses, beyond the stereotypical interpretation related to the military aspect.

Crops of the Islamic countryside and supplying the Crusader cities: Edessa and Antioch

Exploring the nutritional structure of the Crusader principalities, it is seen that they were in constant need of the Islamic countryside. For example, the county of Edessa, with its arms east and west of the Euphrates, was in constant need of grainFootnote 11. In the east of the Euphrates, it relied on the outskirts of Mosul and the fertile Harran countrysideFootnote 12, which was subjected to continuous pressure from the FranksFootnote 13. According to Matthew of Edessa, Edessa was meeting its need with wheat and barley from the fields of HarranFootnote 14, which was confirmed by William of Tyre, ‘Baldwin, Count of Edessa, hoped and believed that he would be able to secure ample provisions for his own citizens from the region lying beyond the Euphrates’. William continued, ‘The region in the vicinity of the river Euphrates produces most abundant crops. Taking advantage of this fact, our chiefs, ordered food supplies of every kind to be gathered there and transported by horses, camels, asses, and mules across the river. In this way, the towns and fortresses were supplied with a large quantity of food, sufficient for a long time. Special attention was devoted to provisioning the city of Edessa, even to an overabundance Footnote 15 .

At the same time, the Franks of Edessa reached the outskirts of Aleppo, west of the Euphrates. They took the castles of Aʿzāz, Tell Bāshir, Aintab, and Marash as bases to advance on the northern and eastern borders of AleppoFootnote 16. According to Arabic sources, the northern regions of Aleppo were famous for cotton, wheat, and other types of grains, while its western regions were planted with grains, olives, and fruits and the production of oil and raisinsFootnote 17.

According to Ibn al-ʿAdīm, wheat was the most important of these crops, as Aleppo had warehouses to sell it, in addition to hay, which was necessary for animal fodderFootnote 18. In addition to wheat, the countryside of Tell Bāshir was cultivated with cotton and milletFootnote 19. These crops were so important that their price was estimated in 1124 at one hundred thousand dinarsFootnote 20. William of Tyre added to Tell Bāshir’s food materials, ‘wine and oil’ Footnote 21 , making it a rich city compared to the rest of the dependencies of Edessa east of the Euphrates, which sometimes suffered from destitutionFootnote 22. This encouraged the Counts of Edessa to reside inside Tell Bāshir, not EdessaFootnote 23.

The Franks strategically used Tell Bāshir’s castle to monitor the fields of northern Aleppo. If the harvest season came and they could not provide food, they plundered the crops. For instance, in 1120, Jocelin I took advantage of the Muslim villagers’ reassurance over their truce with the Franks of Antioch, so he collected their crops and animalsFootnote 24. In fact, he utilised his attacks to force the inhabitants of Aleppo to conclude a suitable agreement that would guarantee him a share of their crops, which was achieved in April 1126, when he was granted half the production of the fields extending between Aʿzāz Citadel and AleppoFootnote 25.

Thus, the castles west of the Euphrates were a logistical necessity for the Franks of Edessa to secure a share of food suppliesFootnote 26. Therefore, their loss of Edessa in 1144, in exchange for the survival of these castles, was merely a moral loss. Realising this, Nur ad-Dīn Mahmoud devoted his effort to annexing these castles. He was certain that this would cut off the Franks’ hope of reaching the fields of Aleppo, on the one hand, and would secure the trade line extending between Mosul and Aleppo, on the otherFootnote 27, so he seized Aʿzāz in July 1150Footnote 28and Tell Bāshir on July 18, 1151Footnote 29 (Table 1).

As for Antioch, its population was approximately one hundred thousandFootnote 31. Despite the agricultural activity around Jableh and LatakiaFootnote 32, Aleppo was the most important for AntiochFootnote 33. The villages between Antioch and Aleppo were famous for wheat, barley, olives, and fruits, according to a witness who visited the region before the arrival of the Franks and noted: ‘The distance between Aleppo and Antioch was a fertile land, cultivated with wheat, barley and olives. Its villages were connected, its gardens were blooming, and its water was plentifulFootnote 34. The fields of Ḥamāh and Shaizar also contained the same crops according to some studies that concluded that the Levant in the years of the Franks’ arrival was abundant with rainwater and full of cropsFootnote 35. Cotton could be added to Shaizar crops, as was understood from an Arabic source narrationFootnote 36. A recent study concluded that the agricultural production of the Levant was comparable to the production of European regions during the Crusader eraFootnote 37.

Sources have proven that the Franks of Antioch set out from Apamea and attacked the outskirts of Ḥamāh and Shaizar, and plundered the crops and animals on several occasions Footnote 38. Likewise, their control over Basarfut fortress in March 1104Footnote 39, al-Athārib and Zerdana in 1110Footnote 40, Artah castle in May 1105Footnote 41, as well as the castles of Rugia, Arcican, and RusaFootnote 42, Ashughr, and BakasFootnote 43, allowed them to penetrate east of the Orontes River and reach the fields of Aleppo (see Table 2). However, the Franks did not achieve expansionary results or did not want to expand.

Table 1. The important crops that the Franks of Edessa reaped from the borders of Aleppo and the tax value of some villages

Table 2. The most important crops that the principality of Antioch benefited from the Islamic countryside

Nicholas Morton comments that the Franks needed to maintain the momentum built up by the First Crusade and continue to convince their neighbours (many of whom possessed far greater resources) to remain or become quiescent. He adds that the relationship of Aleppo rulers with the Franks included only sporadic moments of conflict interspersed with periods of ‘peace’ and occasional instances of cooperationFootnote 44. Morton probably agrees with some scholars who argue the same point, such as Ernest Barker, who confirms that the profits the Franks obtained from these raids were limited and temporaryFootnote 45; Raymond Smail who argues that these raids were carried out with small forces and their purpose was to achieve greater gains and not necessarily plunder and sabotageFootnote 46; and Joshua Prawer who suggests that the Franks’ campaigns were out of economic necessity to create or safeguard their sources of income from the agricultural production of the landFootnote 47.

Accordingly, the Franks of Antioch employed their attacks as a way to conclude a suitable agreement that would provide them with regular access to agricultural supplies, as they did in their attack on Aleppo in 1118 when they forced its inhabitants to hand over the citadel of Aʿzāz and to cede to them the fields north and west of Aleppo, as well as a sum of moneyFootnote 48. What indicates the somewhat peaceful intentions of the Franks was that they approached the Muslim villagers of Aʿzāz and helped them cultivate their landsFootnote 49. In 1119, they asked the people of Aleppo to share the crops with themFootnote 50. This reflects the solicitude of Antioch’s Franks to cultivate the nearby Islamic countryside and preserve their share of its products and their endeavour to achieve this through a policy that varied between war and diplomacy.

This policy resulted in an agreement secured by the Franks in October 1120 with Ilghazi, the ruler of Aleppo, who granted them half of the villages in northern Aleppo and ceded to them Al-Bara, Kafr Tab, and Al-Ma’arrat, which facilitated the Franks’ access to the fields of Ḥamāh and Shaizar, as well as AleppoFootnote 51. Ilghazi also granted them half of the villages of Leylon-Afrin, Aʿzāz, Ma’arrat Maṣrīn, and some villages of Jabal al-Summāq. Additionally, the Arabic sources mentioned that Ilghazi shared with the Franks all the villages of western AleppoFootnote 52. That is, the Franks had at least half the crops of these regions, including grains, olives, cotton, fruit, almonds, pistachios, sesame, summāq, onions, garlic, and coriander (see Table 2)Footnote 53.

This agreement was the cornerstone of a relationship between Antioch and Aleppo that lasted for at least ten years, during which the principality of Antioch secured regular agricultural supplies. Therefore, the Franks solicited to confirm this agreement with Ilghazi in March 1122Footnote 54. Then, they documented it with his nephew Badr al-Dawla in April 1123, obtaining the fortress of al-Athārib, 35 km west of Aleppo and overlooking the most important roads with AntiochFootnote 55. According to Arabic sources, the result was that agricultural conditions improved in these areasFootnote 56.

The Franks imposed the same agreement on Aqsunqur al-Bursuqi in September 1125, following the difficult and painful siege on AleppoFootnote 57. Then, they got half of the crops of Jabal al-Summāq, west of AleppoFootnote 58. It is clarified that the Franks were igniting war with every new ruler of Aleppo to gain two benefits: renewing the agreement and having new gains. These agreements were certainly beneficial to them. According to Ibn Munqidh, the silos of Antioch were full of grain when Bohemond II came to power in 1126 and when he died in 1130Footnote 59. In other words, this ruler succeeded in securing his principality’s grain supplies throughout his rule.

The castles located east of the Orontes were the guarantor of feeding Antioch with these crops but at the expense of the markets and the livelihoods of the Islamic cities. Realising this situation, Imad al-Din Zengi destroyed al-Athārib in 1130Footnote 60. He surrounded Harim until the Franks gave him half of its villages’ taxFootnote 61. He raided Maʿarat al-Nuʿmān and Kafr Tab in 1133Footnote 62 and controlled them in 1137Footnote 63. His possession of these fortresses enabled him to seize Homs on June 30, 1138Footnote 64, and Baʿlabekk on October 16, 1139Footnote 65. Therefore, he paved the way to capture Edessa.

Zengi’s success in drawing a line for his country extending from Edessa in the north to the outskirts of Damascus in the south was fruitful. He preserved the villages and fields, extended his protection to the peasants, and secured the crops and food supplies for his cities. The manifestations of his success appeared in the abundant and cheap fruits and crops in the markets. Ibn al-ʿAdīm provided evidence in his classification of the prices of five main commodities that were sold before Zengi’s death in the markets of Aleppo, as follows:

In contrast, Zengi’s expansionist policy, or war of attrition, as Andrew Buck called it, negatively affected the Franks, as it reduced revenues from border agricultural lands, on which the authority to govern and organise military defence dependedFootnote 67.

Nur ad-Dīn continued his father’s efforts and annexed the fortress of Artah with several nearby castles in 1147Footnote 68. He took Apamea on August 1, 1149Footnote 69. Thus, the Franks were deprived of their most important outlet on the Orontes, which became their border with Muslim SyriaFootnote 70; consequently, their crops became limited. This argument was supported by two texts. The first was by Ibn al-Qalānisī, who declared that the Franks were forced to give up their influence in the western fields of AleppoFootnote 71. The second was a letter sent to the Templar Everard des Barres, circa 1150, which contained ‘that the Muslims shut up the Franks within the walls of Antioch and took away all the harvests and vintagesFootnote 72. With the occupation of Harim on August 18, 1164, the Franks lost their last outlet to the fields of AleppoFootnote 73. Realising this, Arab sources praised this eventFootnote 74.

The fall of the Harim was disastrous for the Franks. Its catastrophic consequences were not limited to the military aspect, as some argued that Antioch lost its military importanceFootnote 75to the point that the Franks were forced to sell or rent the castles east of the Orontes to the Hospitallers in an attempt to restrain Nur ad-Dīn Footnote 76. Moreover, the matter exceeded Antioch’s logistical loss, as its markets faced a food supply crisis. Michael the Syrian explained that wheat became scarce in Antioch in 1164 until half a measure was sold for a dinar and shortly disappeared from the marketsFootnote 77. This crisis was directly related to Antioch’s loss of Harim and its deprivation of the fields east of Orontes.

Tripoli and Jerusalem

The principality of Tripoli was coastal, and its area was not as large as the other principalitiesFootnote 78. Its capital, Tripoli, was bordered by the sea to the west and the mountain ranges of Lebanon to the eastFootnote 79. Therefore, its fields were not expected to meet the Franks’ need for agricultural supplies, especially grainsFootnote 80.

From the beginning, the Franks tried to control the Islamic rural suburbs that provided them with continuous supplies. In 1105, they tried to seize Raphanea, located west of Ḥamāh, which had a fertile suburbFootnote 81. A poem by Ibn Munqidh showed the extent of fertile agriculture in this region, especially grainsFootnote 82. The Franks also extended their control over the outskirts of Tripoli in the same yearFootnote 83. These rural suburbs stretched between the Beqaa and GhūṬa and were full of palm trees, vines, fruit, sugar cane, and olivesFootnote 84.

After the establishment of the Tripoli principality, the Franks attacked the fields of ḤamāhFootnote 85. In 1108-1109, they took Arqa on the eastern borderFootnote 86. An anonymous traveller visited the region in the mid-twelfth century and pointed out the importance of Arqa, overlooking the fertile fields of Ḥamāh to the northeast and its counterparts belonging to Baʿlabek in the southwestFootnote 87. Burchard confirmed that these fields, in addition to being full of various fruit trees, included villages, vast pastures, and numbers of Bedouins who owned abundant herds of sheep and camelsFootnote 88. Moreover, the large number of river mills in ArqaFootnote 89 denoted that the grain input was plentiful. This encouraged some to believe that a Frankish settlement arose around ArqaFootnote 90.

The Franks also penetrated the fields of Homs after they took control of ʿAkkār fortress, northeast of Tripoli, in 1109Footnote 91. This allowed them to monitor the fields and had, in 1142, fishing rights in the freshwater fisheries near HomsFootnote 92.

Consequently, the Franks secured a satisfactory agreement with Ṭughtekīn, atabeg of Damascus, in 1109, under which they obtained one-third of the crops of the Beqaa ValleyFootnote 93. This agreement was confirmed by Ṭughtekīn with Baldwin I, King of Jerusalem, in 1110Footnote 94.

Michael Köhler described this agreement as a sign of the balance of power between the two partiesFootnote 95, while Kevin Lewis did not consider its fruitful results, justifying that it was held for stereotypical military motivesFootnote 96. Heather Crowley relied on this agreement a lot, considering it proved how quickly the Franks adapted when they settled in the Levant and understood how to manage the Condominium properties, even if they did not interfere with how they were farmedFootnote 97.

This agreement was the pivotal axis of the logistical policy of the County of Tripoli and a safety valve that secured a share of crops for a quarter of a century and even permitted them, according to Bar Hebraeus, to practice grazing in the Islamic countryside, to the eastFootnote 98. The castles of Baʿrīn, Beaufort, and Arqa were the main guarantors of the implementation of this agreement (see Table 3). Baʿrīn and Beaufort allowed them to put pressure on the Muslim villages in the Beqaa, control the southern access to this plain, and ensure communication between Antioch and JerusalemFootnote 99. Baʿrīn also empowered the Franks from the villages of Ḥamāh and remained a threat until Zengi seized it in August 1137Footnote 100. Arqa Castle enabled the Franks to monitor and threaten the fields of Baʿlabekk and remained a danger to Ḥamāh until the 1170s when Nur ad-Dīn b. Zengi destroyed it in 1172, which deprived Tripoli of a vital outlet to the eastern hinterlandFootnote 101. However, the Franks of Tripoli had the Castle of Krak des Chevaliers, which they sold to the Hospitallers in 1142Footnote 102. This castle threatened the fields of Homs and Ḥamāh until the 1180s, as Ibn Jubayr pointed outFootnote 103.

Table 3. The important crops that the principality of Tripoli benefited from the Islamic countryside

As for the Kingdom of Jerusalem, it was the poorest in providing food supplies compared to other Crusade principalities. It did not have rivers but obtained water from wells, reservoirs, and cisternsFootnote 104. Moreover, the lands of the Kingdom were planted with limited wheat, barley, vines, figs, olives, and other fruitsFootnote 105, which did not meet the food needs of its peopleFootnote 106. This was confirmed by Fulcher of Chartres’s account, ‘Because the area was dry, unwatered, and without streams our men as well as their beasts sufferedFootnote 107, Orderic Vitalis comment on Jerusalem’s economic value, ‘noting that the land thereabouts was parched, not suitable for grazing, possessing few trees, and having only a few vines and olivesFootnote 108, Burchard’s observation about the Kingdom’s need for Damascus fruitFootnote 109, and the content of King Fulk’s letter mentioned above.

Contrary to Ekkehard’s dreamy storyFootnote 110, King Baldwin I realised the deficit in agricultural production in the Kingdom of Jerusalem, especially with the constantly arriving pilgrims, and that he lacked an alternative to obtain provisions and supplies. Additionally, he fully realised the seriousness of the Kingdom’s geographical and geopolitical situation, which Fulcher explained by the weakness of aid from the sea and the landFootnote 111. Therefore, Baldwin created his policy based on two parallel frames. First, he sought to seize the coastal cities that were still in the control of the FatimidsFootnote 112, which would enable him to facilitate communication with the commercial cities of Western Europe to supply him with the needs by seaFootnote 113. Second, he was keen to penetrate the Islamic interior to secure his Kingdom geopoliticallyFootnote 114 and to provide an alternative in case of a lack of supplies from the seaFootnote 115. Thus, Baldwin held the stick from the middle, establishing for his successors a balanced policy that lasted until the end of the first half of the twelfth century.

Wheat was the most important requirement of Jerusalem kingsFootnote 116, who sought to gain it from the fields of Damascus, which they accessed via the Jawlān. Bāniyās, 24 miles from Damascus, was the main entrance to this countryside, extending from the shores of Tiberias in the south to Ḥawrān in the eastFootnote 117. Bāniyās countryside was distinguished by growing wheat, rice, and cotton. Thus, Al-Muqaddasī called it ‘the Granary of Damascus’Footnote 118, and Ibn Jubayr described it as spacious ploughsFootnote 119. The hypothesis of wheat cultivation in Bāniyās was demonstrated by discovering the remains of a Frankish River millFootnote 120. In addition to Bāniyās, the Damascus borders included other agricultural sites that lured the Franks, such as al-Sawâd Tiberias, Ḥawrān, Balqāʾ, and Jabal ʿAwfFootnote 121. These areas were so rich in crops and livestock that they could help provide supplies for the Frankish siege of Sidon, according to Albert of Aachen’s confirmationFootnote 122.

The Franks built castles and fortresses on the outskirts of Damascus, such as the castle of Safed in 1102, to control the road between Damascus and AcreFootnote 123 and to monitor the fields of Bāniyās, whose city was only 23 km away from SafedFootnote 124, and the castle of Toron between Mount Lebanon and Tyre, in 1104, at the same distance from BāniyāsFootnote 125. These two castles enabled the Franks to threaten the agricultural villages southwest of Damascus: Ḥawrān, Jabal ʿAwf, and Balqāʾ. In the same vein, the Franks sought to build al-‘Al fortress on Tiberias outskirts (Al-Sawâd) in 1105, but it was destroyed by Ṭughtekīn, atabeg of DamascusFootnote 126. The Franks were keen to possess Al-Sawâd region, which was producing wine, grains, and olives, according to William of TyreFootnote 127. Al-Idrîsî wrote about date cultivation and described small boats that used to travel from Zoghar, south of Tiberias, loaded with grains and dates until they reached Jericho, Jerusalem’s gateway to the Transjordan regionFootnote 128.

One of the significant results of the Frankish policy of building fortresses was that Ṭughtekīn rushed to conclude an agreement with Baldwin I in the summer of 1109, stating the division of the crops of Al-Sawâd and Jabal ʿAwf regions: A third for the Franks, a third for the Damascenes, and a third for the peasants of the two regionsFootnote 129. It seems one-third was insufficient for the Kingdom of Jerusalem, so Baldwin decided to increase his share. Between 1109 and 1110Footnote 130, he built Cave de Sueth/Habïs Jaldak, a new fortress, in the Lower Yarmouk Valley, 16 miles south east TiberiasFootnote 131 and cooperated with the Count of Tripoli in threatening Ṭughtekīn, who agreed in July 1111 to give the Kingdom of Jerusalem half of the crops of the aforementioned regions, in addition to new ones, namely al-Hayaniyah, according to Ibn al-QalānisīFootnote 132, al-Ḥannāna, al-Salt, and the Jordan Valley, according to Ibn al-AthīrFootnote 133.

These areas were abundant in grains, as the production of al-Salt and Balqā in 1192 reached six thousand Gherara (approximately 480,000 kg)Footnote 134. The regions of Upper Jordan were known for the cultivation of sugar cane, according to Daniel the Monk, who mentioned a forest belonging to wild boars and a number of leopards and lionsFootnote 135. The Jordan Valley (al-Ghawr) was also known for the cultivation of sugar cane, bananas, palm treesFootnote 136, and a variety of vegetablesFootnote 137.

The agreement of 1111 AD was a turning point in the mutual relationship between Jerusalem and DamascusFootnote 138. It shaped their interrelationship with peace and tranquillity for most of the first half of the twelfth century. It gradually ensured that the Jerusalem Kingdom secured its food supplies. Nicholas Morton emphasised the desire of both sides to maintain peace between them. However, he ignored, for the reasons he gave, the keenness of both sides to cultivate the border area between themFootnote 139, which necessitated peace between both sides.

There is no doubt that Steve Tibble was right in saying that stable, well-managed, sedentary societies had reserves of food and could, just, absorb temporary or infrequent climatic shocksFootnote 140. In confirmation of that, the critical historian Ibn al-Qalānisī noted that establishing security in Damascus villages adjacent to the Franks and regularly cultivating crops could only result from a peaceful relationship between the rulers of Damascus and the Frankish kings, stating that, ‘The correspondence between Ṭughtekīn, Atabeg of Damascus, and Baldwin, King of the Franks, was established to make a truce, reconciliation, and peace in order to populate the villages and secure the wayfarersFootnote 141. Consequently, both sides were keen on renewing the aforementioned agreement in 1112Footnote 142, 1113Footnote 143, 1115Footnote 144, and 1119Footnote 145.

Within three years, the Franks of Edessa and Antioch renewed their agreements with the Muslim rulers of northern Syria, which had a positive impact on the Frankish markets. Fulcher points out, ‘This year (1122) ended as abundant as the previous year, in products of all kinds, whatever is reaped in the fields. A measure of wheat sold for a denarius, or forty for a golden pieceFootnote 146.

The dividing line in the Condominium between Muslims and the Franks was unclear but was rather fuzzy or fluid, as Denys Pringle puts itFootnote 147. Ronnie Ellenblum suggests that the borders between Muslims and the Franks were not clear, at least in the first half of the twelfth centuryFootnote 148. The matter can be further clarified by saying that the Franks, in view of their expansionist desire, did not have in their interest to define borders between themselves and the Muslims as long as the latter did not have a strong rulerFootnote 149.

Accordingly, the rural suburbs of Damascus became a vital target for the Franks, who viewed them as an inexhaustible warehouse of agricultural supplies. Therefore, according to Ibn al-Athīr, in 1128, the Franks agreed with one of the Damascene Shiites to hand over Damascus to them in exchange for TyreFootnote 150. Although this story was not mentioned in another source, it confirms the importance of Damascus to the FranksFootnote 151. Ibn al-Athīr even justified their attack on Damascus’s countryside in the following year as a result of the failure of this agreement. He noted that the Franks’ concern was the possession of crops from the suburbs of Damascus, especially ḤawrānFootnote 152. Michael the Syrian addressed this attack, reporting that it was due to the interruption of supplies from Damascus to the Franks, ‘En 1129, Les Turcs, de Damas, s’étaient emparés des défilés pour qu’on ne pût ravitailler les Francs’. Hence, the Franks imposed on Būrī, ruler of Damasus, an annual tribute of twenty thousand dinarsFootnote 153.

Bāniyās remained as a vital target for Jerusalem’s Franks. When Muʿīn ad-Dīn Unur, ruler of Damascus, sought their support in the war against Zengi, the Franks insisted on controlling Bāniyās, which was achieved in July 1139Footnote 154. The importance of this region for Jerusalem was evident from the narration of William of Tyre, Ernoul, and Ibn Jubayr, who confirmed that the sharing of its crops and taxes remained valid between Muslims and Franks until 1182Footnote 155.

The importance of Damascus to the Franks was also confirmed during the Second Crusade (1147–1149). The commanders of this expedition sought to seize this city, although their coming was mainly for the fall of Edessa. None of the contemporary sources provided a convincing reason for the expedition’s deviation towards Damascus. Claude Cahen even confirmed that the emergence of the name Damascus as a target of the campaign was surprisingFootnote 156.

Some scholars suppose that the expedition’s goal was to possess the rich villages and fields of Damascus to provide an uninterrupted food supply to the Kingdom of JerusalemFootnote 157. William of Tyre hinted that the Kingdom would not allow Nur ad-Dīn to control a vital resource like DamascusFootnote 158. This proposal clearly explains why Baldwin III attacked the outskirts of Damascus before the advent of the CrusadeFootnote 159. This King tried to seize three fortresses in ḤawrānFootnote 160 and reconstructed el-Wu’ayra Castle in the Petra region in 1144/1145Footnote 161, as he was in a feverish race with Nur ad-Dīn. Baldwin III did not cease his attacks after the failure of the Second Crusade, to the point that the peasants of Ḥawrān in 1149 were not safe in transporting their crops to Damascus except under the protection of Unur forcesFootnote 162.

Nur ad-Dīn employed these attacks as a pretext to invade DamascusFootnote 163. Abaq, ruler of Damascus, was on the horns of a dilemma. When he hired the Franks in March 1151 to repel Nur ad-Dīn, they demanded getting crops of Ḥawrān and some of the suburbs of DamascusFootnote 164. Then, they attacked the fertile fields of Bosra, south of Damascus, in August 1151. On the other side, Nur ad-Dīn raided and plundered the crops and livestock of other Damascene fields in Ḥawrān, GhūṬa, and Marj RahitFootnote 165. Consequently, the greed for the crops and supplies of Damascus was distributed between the Franks and Nur ad-Dīn. The farmers and people of Damascus paid a heavy price.

As Nur ad-Dīn’s pressure on Damascus increased, the Franks turned to possess the rest of the eastern Mediterranean coast to ensure their communication with Europe by sea and create a strong defensive line to confront the interior rising Islamic stateFootnote 166. Ascalon was the last coastal city they captured on August 12, 1153Footnote 167. William of Tyre praised the positive consequences of the Ascalon capture, confirming that the peasants began to plant the countryside with grains and fruitsFootnote 168. This suggests that the Franks’ goal in obtaining Ascalon was to provide an alternative to the supplies of Damascus, whose fall into the hands of Nur ad-Dīn had become inevitable.

William of Tyre described Damascus’s seizure by Nur ad-Din on May 2, 1154, as a disaster for the Franks. He explained that the former ruler of Damascus, who was weak and used to pay an annual tribute to the Franks, had been replaced by a strong ruler who would disturb the Franks’ tranquillityFootnote 169. The severest consequence was cutting off agricultural products from Damascus to Jerusalem, which happened when grains became scarce in the markets of Jerusalem in 1154 to the point of famine. William of Tyre said, ‘In 1154, a severe famine spread over the whole land, it took away our main support, bread, so that a measure of wheat (five bushels) was sold for four gold piecesFootnote 170.

William did not explain the reason for this crisis other than his usual religious intimidation. However, there appears to be a close connection with Nur ad-Dīn ’s seizure of Damascus. Several threads supported this hypothesis. It was the custom for the Franks of Jerusalem to compensate for their food supply deficit with Damascus crops by purchasing, sharing, or paying tribute, part of which was grains or through raiding, if necessary. But Damascus was besieged by Nur ad-Dīn in 1153, and its markets were in crisis, as grains became scarce until a measure of wheat (al-Gherara) cost twenty-five dinarsFootnote 171. Additionally, its fall prevented reaching the agricultural supplies to Jerusalem, threatening its people with famine. William of Tyre commented that the abundant grain found by the Franks in Ascalon saved them from famine, as he confirmed that the grain shortage crisis occurred in the year following the fall of Ascalon, raising contradiction in his narration.

Jean Richard tried to find a way out of William’s narration confusion; he mentioned that the capture of Ascalon was in 1154, not 1153Footnote 172, despite the Arab sources agreeing with William on the latter year!! In his turn, Richard did not reveal the causes of the food shortage crisis in Jerusalem’s markets, which has no proper explanation other than that it was a result of Nur ad-Dīn ’s seizure of Damascus. As for the return of wheat to the markets of Jerusalem, William of Tyre mentioned that it happened after the Franks cultivated the countryside between Jerusalem and Ascalon with grains until the land’s productivity increased sixty times compared to the previous era. William, supported by Jean Richard, confirmed that Ascalon’s cultivation was self-sufficient for the Jerusalem Kingdom in the following years.Footnote 173Was this true?

To say that cultivating a new territory would provide a portion of the Kingdom’s supplies was entirely plausible, but William’s description of the land’s productivity and emphasis on the Kingdom’s self-sufficiency were undoubtedly exaggerated. Actually, the richest deltas known did not reach this productivity, and the travellers who visited Jerusalem beginning in the tenth century did not reach, in their most sentimental descriptions, William’s estimatesFootnote 174. At the same time, Damascus witnessed an abundance of crops after Nur ad-Dīn stimulated its cultivation and renewed and maintained its irrigation systems, suggesting that the Kingdom of Jerusalem tended to compensate for the deficit in their supplies from Damascus. Thus, in the year following the fall of Damascus, the Franks entered into negotiations and concluded peace with Nur ad-Dīn Footnote 175.

The Franks also kept Bāniyās because they were aware of the permanent agricultural and animal supplies it providedFootnote 176. William of Tyre mentioned that the Muslims were grazing herds of cattle and horses in the vicinity of Bāniyās according to an agreement concluded with King Baldwin IIIFootnote 177. Undoubtedly, William adopted the story of Albert of Aachen, who classified grazing animals into camels, cows, sheep, and goatsFootnote 178. In general, Bāniyās provided important animal production to the point that Baldwin III permitted the Hospitallers to share its pastures in 1157Footnote 179. The utilitarian exchange between the Franks and Muslims continued until the year 1182 AD, as noted by Ibn Jubayr, who said, They were sharing the crops, and their herds were grazing together. Footnote 180

In sum, Nur ad-Dīn realised that the Franks’ possession of Bāniyās Castle motivated them to threaten the fields of Damascus, so he captured it in November 1164. He put pressure on the Franks of Jerusalem until they granted him half of Tiberias’s cropsFootnote 181. Thus, his efforts not only resulted in the security of his villages and fields but also threatened the Franks’ crops and agricultural supplies. Raymond Smail commented on this, saying: ‘In this way the Christian rulers lost the military force which those lands had supported’ Footnote 182 .

The Franks and the management of the rural countryside: Feudal influences and taxes

The Franks transferred almost their feudal system to the LevantFootnote 183and were keen to provide food supplies, such as wheat, barley, and oil, as well as animal fodder for their vassals as soon as they swore vassalageFootnote 184. With the inability of their principalities to give sufficient agricultural production, the lords sought to provide fiefdoms, landed or monetary, in the Islamic countryside adjacent to the Crusader cities in the LevantFootnote 185, which was an easy solution compared to the successive difficulties facing the arrival of European supplies.

If the Franks were unable to acquire agricultural supplies, they imposed royalties on the Muslim rulers, which naturally helped them purchase agricultural productsFootnote 186. Arabic sources detailed the tributes that the Franks imposed on their Muslim neighbours, at least until the 1130s. The Aleppans paid to the Franks of Antioch an annual sum ranging from twenty to thirty thousand dinars and several horsesFootnote 187. They pledged to the Franks of Edessa in 1127 twelve thousand dinars annuallyFootnote 188. Shaizar paid four thousand dinarsFootnote 189, and Ḥamāh paid two thousand dinars to the Franks of Antioch Footnote 190 . Furthermore, Tyre paid seven thousand dinars to the kings of JerusalemFootnote 191. The rulers of Damascus paid twenty thousand dinarsFootnote 192, and Homs paid the Franks of Tripoli four thousand dinarsFootnote 193. Baʿlabekk committed an annual tribute to the latter, according to Jacob of Vitry, who did not specify its amount.Footnote 194 The Franks made the time to pay these taxes coincide with the harvesting of cropsFootnote 195. Perhaps, they allowed the Muslim rulers to sell their crops or took an in-kind portion of the tribute, as Bar Hebraeus confirmed: ‘The Arabs in Aleppo, Hamah, Homs and Damascus paid tribute to the Franks. In Aleppo they paid half of their crops to the FranksFootnote 196

The Franks benefited from the Right of Conquest that they applied on the eve of their invasion of the Levant, which allowed them to divide the villages adjacent to their Levantine principalities into small fiefdomsFootnote 197, stripping off their ancient Hebrew and Arabic names and giving them names of the Frankish familiesFootnote 198. This right encouraged young knights to undertake military adventures in the countryside surrounding the Kingdom of Jerusalem. They penetrated Transjordan, for example, which became subordinate to the royal crown and operated under the feudal systemFootnote 199.

Over time, the Muslims and the Franks realised that mutual border clashes would not benefit them. For example, when the Franks of Galilee, in their first years, attacked the Transjordan fields, destroyed crops, and plundered livestockFootnote 200, they caused a scarcity of food and a rise in prices in the markets of DamascusFootnote 201. On the other hand, such clashes heralded the interruption of trade coming from deep within Syria or at least prevented the establishment of markets on the Islamic borders. As a result, valuable goods, especially spices, oil, sugar, cotton, and linen, were not imported to the Crusader citiesFootnote 202, causing a loss for the European commercial cities which carried these goods and sold them in other markets at high pricesFootnote 203. The Franks realised then that their wars against Damascus were not in their interest. Nicholas Morton comments that the rulers of Jerusalem Kingdom had no immediate ambition to stage a major campaign against Damascus but were content to focus their attention on the coast and TransjordanFootnote 204.

Based on these considerations, the peace treaty that Baldwin I concluded with Ṭughtekīn in 1115Footnote 205was not for military-political reasons, as Fulcher and Ibn al-Athīr imaginedFootnote 206, rather, for reasons related to the food capacity of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. The Kingdom had limited agricultural areas, which experienced human and natural disasters, e.g., the disaster following Baldwin’s defeat in the Battle of Jisr al-Sinbara, on July 4, 1113, where the fields extending between Jerusalem and Acre were devastated and devoid of cropsFootnote 207. In the spring of 1114, locusts attacked and destroyed the kingdom’s cropsFootnote 208. Consequently, Baldwin’s insistence on making peace with Ṭughtekīn in the following year was an inevitable result of the devastation of his Kingdom’s crops. Since the peace agreements between the Franks and the Muslim rulers were followed by the latter paying tribute, part of which came in the form of in-kind materialsFootnote 209, it is likely that Baldwin I sought to compensate food supply deficit from Damascus’s crops by confirming the agreement with Ṭughtekīn, secured in 1109 and was renewed in 1110Footnote 210. Thus, Baldwin made a safe way to the fields of Bāniyās and ensured his access to the fields of Transjordan, from which he brought crops and transported Christian farmers to the outskirts of JerusalemFootnote 211.

Baldwin I established a pragmatic principle for the Kingdom, i.e., to follow a cooperative or hostile policy with the Muslims to the extent that it secured its supplies. The effect of his pragmatism was evident in the policy of his successors, as Baldwin II granted tax exemption, on January 31, 1120, to both Muslim and Christian farmers and merchants on the grains, barley, vegetablesFootnote 212, beans, lentils, and chickpeas they brought to the Kingdom’s marketsFootnote 213.

This decree brought undoubted positive outcomes to the Kingdom of Jerusalem. William of Tyre explicitly pointed out the connection between this decree and the availability of agricultural supplies in the Kingdom’s marketsFootnote 214. Joshua Prawer praised the outcomes of the decree, attributing the stability of the Kingdom in the second quarter of the twelfth century to the surplus of agricultural products from the new rural centres, coinciding with the commercial activity that the Kingdom experienced after seizing the seaports.Footnote 215 Moreover, this decree encouraged Ronnie Ellenblum to argue that the Kingdom enjoyed peace in the following yearsFootnote 216. However, a question arises: What were the reasons for issuing this decree?

There is an undoubted connection between this decree and the bad conditions the Kingdom went through before its issuance, as the Kingdom experienced four lean years when its crops were destroyed by locusts and rats, which made grain scarceFootnote 217, bread disappeared, and famine afflicted Jerusalem in 1119-1120, as Michael the Syrian and William of Tyre confirmedFootnote 218. Hans Mayer believes that the decree was issued due to these circumstancesFootnote 219, leading to the hypothesis that Baldwin II sought help from the Islamic countryside to meet his food deficit. Therefore, Prawer’s judgement that the peripheral areas of the Kingdom of Jerusalem were economically less important than the coastal ports was inaccurateFootnote 220. The truth is that they were equally important, but the building of a unified state by the Zengids since the 1130s prompted the Kings of Jerusalem to direct their attention towards the supplies coming by sea.

Due to the scarcity of evidence for agricultural regimes in Palestine and Syria in the medieval periodFootnote 221, there is no definitive opinion on the method of managing the countryside joint villages between the Franks and Muslims in what is known as muqasama. Perhaps an agreement concluded in 1271 between the Mamluk Sultan Baybars and the Hospitallers over the properties of Lod (Lydda) Castle reflected a closer picture of what was happening. The text reads: ‘It is agreed to share crops, pastures, water, mills, and houses… provided that the Sultan sends a representative and the Hospitallers send a representative. Neither of them shall decide a matter without consulting the otherFootnote 222. It could be understood that the administration of the Condominium was equal between the Franks and the Muslims. Ibn al-Qalānisī confirmed that the agreement of 1157 between Nur ad-Dīn and Baldwin III required the presence of Muslim delegates to administer Bāniyās countrysideFootnote 223. Ibn Jubayr confirmed the same information during his journey in 1183Footnote 224.

While the Arabic sources showed the powers of the Arab delegate, which varied between financial and judicial burdensFootnote 225, it was not known precisely what powers the Frankish delegate had. The latter might be the ra’īs who appeared in Frankish documents and relied upon to administer the Casals of their principalitiesFootnote 226. John of Ibelin noted that the ra’īs had judicial powers, and Christopher MacEvitt added military-administrative powers to himFootnote 227. Prawer and Benvenisti added financial powers to the ra’īs and made him an active element in the Frankish feudal administration of the villageFootnote 228.

The ra’īs was entrusted with activating the feudal fees applicable in Europe, such as providing hospitality duties to the lord when he visited the villageFootnote 229, collecting a share of the crops, and catering tax paid three times a year in cash or in-kindFootnote 230. Additionally, he supervised the collection of crops, estimated the terraticum assigned to the feudal lord, which amounted to a third, and then delivered them to his agentFootnote 231. The Franks mostly kept a raw share of the crops to supply hospitals, churches, and monasteriesFootnote 232.

It is worth noting that the Franks recruited Muslim ra’īs to manage their villages. Ibn al-ʿAdīm provided an example of this, reporting that the Franks entrusted the management of the villages of al-Athārib to one of its citizens, i.e., Hamdan b. Abdul Rahim (1068-1147)Footnote 233. Benjamin Kedar mentioned that Hamdan worked within the existing feudal and administrative system in the Frankish villages, so he served as a ra’īs Footnote 234. In addition, some documents contained Arabic names of village chiefs, which encouraged Benvenisti to confirm that all villages in the Crusader principalities were supervised by Muslim leadersFootnote 235. In the same context, Claude Cahen and Kevin Lewis did not rule out that the ra’īs in the countryside of Antioch and Tripoli were MuslimsFootnote 236. Alan Murray opposed this orientation, asserting that the Franks, in their hierarchical dealings with the inhabitants of the Levant, placed the Muslims in the lowest rankFootnote 237. In this context, Buck believed that the urban areas of Antioch witnessed ra’īs from the local Christians, even if they spoke ArabicFootnote 238. It is clear that the Muslim ra’īs worked in the Frankish villages rather than the cities, as Ibn Jubayr mentioned, ‘The Franks owned the cities, while the villages belonged to the MuslimsFootnote 239. On the other hand, documents show that some Frankish villages within the Kingdom of Jerusalem had a head called Baillus Footnote 240, which increased the likelihood that the Franks adopted the experience of Hamdan only in the Islamic villages with shared management. Perhaps discussing the issue of Frankish settlement in the Islamic rural suburbs, which remains a thorny issue, would support this conclusion.

Sources have very brief accounts of the Frankish settlementsFootnote 241. William of Tyre, for example, mentioned that many civilians were residing near Bāniyās Castle, and King Baldwin III was inspecting their conditions, making it likely that a Frankish settlement existedFootnote 242. William’s account of the countryside of Montreal Castle suggested that there was a settlementFootnote 243, as well as another near el-Wu’ayra castleFootnote 244. A huge settlement was near Karak Castle, which relied mainly on local Christians (Syriacs and probably Armenians)Footnote 245. While there were strong settlements in northern Syria around the castles of Aintab, Marash and Tell Bashir, the same was not the case with the castles west of Aleppo – east of the Orontes – whose settlements were difficult to judge precisely, as they were always battlefields between the rulers of Antioch and their counterparts in Aleppo. A settlement of about 700 Frankish knights ruled Jabal al-Summaq regionFootnote 246, and another county arose around the fortress of al-Athārib. However, they undoubtedly disappeared before the end of the 1130s in the face of Zengid’s expansionFootnote 247. These accounts encouraged Joshua PrawerFootnote 248, David JacobyFootnote 249, Raymond SmailFootnote 250, and Christopher TyermanFootnote 251 to argue that Frankish settlements existed, but only next to castles.

Claude CahenFootnote 252, Meron BenvenistiFootnote 253, Hans MayerFootnote 254, Raymond SmailFootnote 255, and Jonathan PhillipsFootnote 256 doubted the success of Frankish settlements in rural areas. Jonathan Riley-Smith points out that there were active efforts by the military Orders to establish Frankish settlements in the countryside adjacent to the Muslim cities, especially the Hospitallers, who had previously obtained papal support for the establishment of churches and cemeteries on the Muslim frontier. However, the Hospitallers did not seem to have succeeded in establishing permanent settlements until the middle of the twelfth century, and they were more successful in the suburbs of Jerusalem than in the suburbs of Antioch and TripoliFootnote 257. Ronnie Ellenblum confirmed that the Franks imposed some features of their rural life in Europe on the villages of the LevantFootnote 258 and tended to build fortified settlements on the outskirts of Islamic cities outside their control, such as AscalonFootnote 259. Although Denys Pringle questioned their usefulness as conclusive pieces of evidence of Frankish settlementsFootnote 260, Ellenblum relied on demographic assumptionsFootnote 261and archaeological finds in Palestine to confirm that many Frankish agricultural settlements were established next to fortresses during the early days of the Kingdom of JerusalemFootnote 262. Boas and Barber were motivated by this idea, stressing that the settlements of Jerusalem had succeeded in supplying the Kingdom with agricultural suppliesFootnote 263. However, Ellenblum did not object to Benvenisti’s strict ruling that the Frankish settlement efforts were unsuccessfulFootnote 264.

Nicholas Morton addressed the demographic aspect when discussing the decline in the number of Franks militarily, saying: ‘What was needed was a settler population large enough to marshal sufficient forces to drive away an aggressor in the event of a major battlefield reverse. The Crusader States never possessed this kind of manpower and this deficiency goes some way to explaining their major territorial loses following the defeats in front of Muslims. To this extent at least, limited manpower reserves were a major problem’Footnote 265. This is what Steve Tibble alluded to in his analytical context of the Crusader strategy in the LevantFootnote 266.

Heather Crowley discussed the settlement issue in detail, using archaeological research. She took the remains of bakeries, mills, and olive presses, which were apparent features of the Frankish settlements in the Levant, as a criterion for judging the presence of Frankish settlements in the rural areas between the Franks and Muslims. Crowley did not find a convincing argument except for what was proven by the remains of Frankish ovens and mills in Montreal and some bread ovens (tabuns) in the Krak des Chevaliers castle overlooking the fields of Homs and Ḥamāh. She argued that the Franks were indifferent to agriculture in the countryside of their principalities. However, she did not deny their awareness and knowledge of the tax system in force in Islamic villages, from which they benefitedFootnote 267. Micaela Sinibaldi supported the hypothesis of the presence of strong Frankish settlements. She made a great effort to examine the archaeological remains of five Frankish castles in Transjordan and beyond the Dead Sea: Montreal, Karak, Al-Silaʿ, Habis Jaldak, and al-Wuʿayra, considering them as settlement bases (see Table 4). Sinibaldi also confirmed their strategic importance in securing the southern entrance to the Kingdom of Jerusalem and monitoring the trade route between Cairo and DamascusFootnote 268. In this way, she somewhat contrasted with Tibble, who entrusted the task of settlement to the inner castles of the FranksFootnote 269.

Ultimately, the hypothesis of the presence of Frankish settlements in the Islamic hinterland could be accepted, but these settlements were more firmly established in some suburbs and possessions of the Kingdom of Jerusalem in Transjordan and the Dead SeaFootnote 270. These settlements were based mainly on the local Christians, and their presence did not contradict the fact that local villagers controlled the surrounding landsFootnote 271. As for the Franks, the successive wars were enough to eliminate their rural settlementsFootnote 272; therefore, it is logical that they would prefer to live in castles and fortified citiesFootnote 273and welcome shared villages to be administered according to agreements with the Muslim rulers.

Arabic sources mentioned vital information about the number and financial income of Islamic or Frankish-Islamic villages adjacent to rural fortresses. The villages of Karak, for example, numbered four hundredFootnote 274, and villages of Aʿzāz were three hundred with a tax of eight hundred thousand dirhamsFootnote 275. The tax of Harim villages was five hundred thousandFootnote 276, and the tax of Tell Bāshir villages was three hundred thousandFootnote 277. The Franks got half of that income (Tables 1 and 2). In addition to the rest of the areas stipulated in the treaties, the sources did not specify their tax. Concerning the fertility of their villages and the abundance of crops, it is likely that their tax was close to what was previously mentioned.

However, it seems that the Franks imposed additional feudal taxes on the Muslims of the shared villages. Thus, Joshua Prawer and Meron Benvenisti traced the feudal system in Jerusalem. For example, the Franks imposed on the Muslim villagers near the fortress of Toron a chicken and ten eggs, one kilo and three hundred grams of cheese, and twelve golden bezants for every carruca Footnote 278 . The Franks possibly applied this system in all other shared villages. Ibn Jubayr stated that the land tax (terraticum) amounted to half of the crops.Footnote 279. He undoubtedly meant the rural suburbs of Bāniyās, whose crops were divided equally according to the agreement of 1111Footnote 280. Then, Ibn Jubayr referred to two other taxes, ‘A tax of one dinar and five carats on each head, and a low tax on the fruits of the trees Footnote 281 . Prawer explained that the fruit tax was on fruit and olive trees, estimating it to be one-third of the cropFootnote 282. He added an in-kind tax on wax and honeyFootnote 283, while Runciman suggested that Muslims also paid the dime tax to the Latin ChurchFootnote 284. Perhaps this was part of the agricultural system imposed by the Franks, which military religious Orders played a role in developing, as they focused on vital crops, such as wheat, olives, cane and grapesFootnote 285.

Muslims did not object to the Franks managing their villagesFootnote 286 and paid the money they owedFootnote 287, which helped facilitate agriculture and regular tax collection. Ibn Jubayr confirmed this situation when describing the Bāniyās countryside, emphasising the good relationship between the Muslims and the Franks. He said, ‘The Muslims were friendly with the Franks’ and expressed his regret that the Muslim villagers did not find such treatment from their rulersFootnote 288. Despite its conflict with contemporary accounts about the oppression of the Franks on MuslimsFootnote 289, this narration encouraged some researchers to argue that a modus vivendi imposed itself on the relationship between the Franks and their Muslim neighbours, which created a beneficial or pragmatic exchange between themFootnote 290. This coexistence was a life necessityFootnote 291, as it prevented the occurrence of famines that might result from the invaders’ settlementFootnote 292. It is noted that this harmony contradicted MacEvitt’s pessimistic view of ‘Rough ToleranceFootnote 293. Heather Crowley also doubted this harmony, declaring that power-sharing in the shared rural villages was unclearFootnote 294. However, this did not prevent an Arab scholar from concluding that the early Crusader presence in the Levant did not harm Muslim farmersFootnote 295.

Some sources indicate that the Franks insisted on being friendly with the Muslim farmers in the shared villages to ensure the management of these villages and the collection of their taxes and to secure permanent communication channels to preserve their shares of agricultural supplies. For instance, Ibn al-ʿAdīm reported that Tancred, Emir of Antioch, was keen to improve his relationship with the peasants of al-Athārib and encouraged them to cultivate their fields. He even obligated the ruler of Aleppo to return the women of these peasants who had fled during the Frankish siege of al-Athārib CastleFootnote 296. At that time, the Muslim peasants in these areas realised that it was better to reconcile with the Franks to preserve the fields they shared. Both parties were convinced that crop safety ensured their food security. This was demonstrated in Ibn al-ʿAdīm’s note about the events of 1118, in which crop spoilage due to environmental reasons caused high prices in Antioch and Aleppo simultaneously ‘The famine became severe in Antioch and Aleppo, because the crops were damaged and the wind hit them when they ripened, destroying them’.Footnote 297. William of Tyre praised the Frankish-Islamic cooperation and noted its fruitful impact in cultivating the fields of the Blanche-Garde fortress near Ascalon, which provided food supplies for the FranksFootnote 298.

Albert of Aachen presented another account that Baldwin II allowed the Muslims to graze their herds in Bāniyās region and received four thousand bezants from them in returnFootnote 299. The Franks were keen to provide justice to the Muslim villagers. Ibn Munqidh told a funny story, dating to 1140/1141, ‘The Frankish ruler of Bāniyās looted sheep from an Islamic village called Al-Shu’ara’, ignoring the treaty concluded with Mu’in ad-Din Unur, Ruler of Damascus. The latter sent Ibn Munqidh to convey the news to King Fulk, who ordered seven knights to investigate the case. They judged to fine the ruler of Bāniyās four hundred dinars’Footnote 300.

Theoderic mentioned that the farmers of the villages extending north of Galilee, on the road between Bāniyās and Acre, were Muslims. He explained that the presence of these farmers was based on the approval of the Frankish kingsFootnote 301. This point was confirmed by the jurist Ḍiyā’ ad-Dīn Al-Muqaddasī in his narration about the Muslims of Nablus before 1156Footnote 302. Also, it was confirmed by Arnoul in his reference to Amalric’s welcome of the increase of Muslim peasants in the suburbs of Jerusalem, which aroused the anger of Thoros II, King of Armenia, who offered to replace these peasants with thirty thousand ArmeniansFootnote 303. Joshua Prawer tried to explain Amalric’s position, providing a demographic basis that the number of Franks three or four generations after their landing in Jerusalem was about one hundred and twenty thousand, and they were mainly distributed among the citiesFootnote 304, so they left rural farming to the locals: Syriacs, Georgians, Armenians, Maronites, and MuslimsFootnote 305. Those peasants helped in agricultural work, village management, and tax collection. Moreover, they cultivated the Condominium fields east of Tiberias and the villages of DamascusFootnote 306.

This treatment, or enlightened policy, as Raymond Smail called it, was a wise method adopted by the Franks with Muslim peasants in the provinces neighbouring their principalitiesFootnote 307. Therefore, Benjamin Kedar declared that the Franks, except for the head tax and agricultural taxes imposed on Muslims, did not change the conditions or methods of agriculture in Islamic villagesFootnote 308.

Lopez’s hypothesis about the agricultural development in Europe beginning in the tenth century and the ability of the Franks to diversify crops contradicted this supposeFootnote 309. Similarly, Claude Cahen referred to Antioch’s export of cotton to Genoa in 1140Footnote 310, and the Franks of Tripoli made efforts to increase the cultivation of cane, linen products, oils, and winesFootnote 311. Additionally, there were the polemics of Cahen himself, Joshua Prawer, Jean Richard, Meron Benvenisti, J. Riley-Smith, Jonathan Philips, Adrian Boas, David Jacoby, Christopher Tyerman, and Andrew Jotischky about the Franks’ interest in growing grains, cotton, fruits, legumes, olives, cane, and vines, as well as exploiting forests and extracting wax and honeyFootnote 312.

Arab sources supported those historians. Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī mentioned that Jabal al-Summāq was planted with cotton and sesameFootnote 313, which were not mentioned by the geographers who wrote about Jabal al-Summāq before the arrival of the Franks, suggesting that the Franks introduced them for their commercial valueFootnote 314. Likewise, when the Franks encouraged the farmers of Aʿzāz to cultivate its countryside, cotton was among its crops, until it was exported to Ceuta, according to Ibn SaʿīdFootnote 315. These examples demonstrated that the Franks intervened in the types of agriculture in the Islamic villages.

Islamic countryside and Crusader castles: The art of location and food strategy

The Frankish supremacy in the East was not secure. Distance and poor geographical communication dominated the reality of the Crusader principalities. For example, the distance between Edessa and Antioch was approximately 200 km, and Jerusalem was about 300 km, away from Antioch. The Crusader cities, except for Edessa, were confined to a narrow strip on the eastern coast of the Mediterranean. The eastern borders of these cities, overlooking a wide Islamic environment, were politically, militarily, and economically unstableFootnote 316. As Deschamps put it, the Frankish border points advanced or fell behind like chess piecesFootnote 317. This geopolitical situation encouraged Claude Cahen, Joshua Prawer, Raymond Smail, and Meron Benvenisti to argue that a somewhat isolationist reality had been imposed on the FranksFootnote 318.

It has been previously suggested that the Frankish expeditions against their Muslim neighbours in the Levant, before Zengids, were provocative to obtain profitable agreements, securing regular access to food supplies. This policy was parallel to the Franks building castles and fortresses in the Islamic countryside, helping them monitor crops and maintain their shares. Ibn al-ʿAdīm explained the method of building the countryside castle and highlighted the Franks’ keenness to store supplies there. He wrote: ‘In 1109 when Tancred controlled Tell ibn Ma’shar, overlooking Shaizar, he began to build a fortress, and made granaries’ Footnote 319. In the same context, William of Tyre explained that the purpose of the Franks’ control over Habis Jaldak was to guarantee them half of the crops of al-Sawâd region, ‘dividing the powers equally between the Christians and the infidels; the taxes and tribute were also equally divided between them Footnote 320‘. Arab sources confirmed the danger and threat of this fortress to the fields subject to the rulers of Damascus, east of TiberiasFootnote 321.

These castles contained cisterns and granaries to store taxes paid in-kind.Footnote 322 Some archaeologists believed that when the Franks allocated granaries in their castles, they adhered to the necessary standards to protect grains from the fluctuations of climate and the attacks of insects and rodentsFootnote 323.

It is noteworthy that both Muslim and Frankish rulers competed to build or demolish castles in areas of shared sovereignty. The Franks failed to build castles on the outskirts of al-Sawâd-Transjordan, on the outskirts of ShaizarFootnote 324, and in Aleppo countrysideFootnote 325, while their control over the Fortress of al-Athārib did not last, and they failed to build three fortresses in Ḥawrān, near Damascus. At the same time, the Franks prevented Ṭughtekīn from building a fortress in Wadi Musa (the Petra region) in 1107Footnote 326 and destroyed a fortress he built in Transjordan in 1121Footnote 327. This encouraged Prawer to confirm that these areas were devoid of Frankish fortificationsFootnote 328. The agreements of the thirteenth century between Muslims and the Franks may show that the Islamic side was refusing to construct any fortifications in areas under joint administrationFootnote 329.

However, the presence of the Frankish castles in Transjordan, the Islamic Tyre countryside – before 1124, the Islamic Ascalon countryside – before 1153, and Al-Ruj towards Aleppo, Krak towards Homs, Bāniyās towards Damascus added a kind of confusion to the analysis of this matter. It is clear that the Franks distinguished between two zones in building castles: Zone (A), which was very close to their domination, where the castle remained standing because it represented their first line of defence, and Zone (B), which was adjacent to Islamic cities, and the Franks were not allowed to build castles there.

This suggestion indicates two important points. First, borders indicated the end of the Frankish domination, or at least indicated the space within which the Franks were not allowed to build castles. It supports Ronnie Ellenblum’s argument that centres of power could be more important for maintaining control than linear bordersFootnote 330. It may also support Denys Pringle’s view that castles cannot defend a frontier but can help define the balance of powerFootnote 331. Second, the Frankish military pressure on the Islamic borders had led, in some way, to an agricultural benefit for the Islamic cities that turned to cultivating wastelands in their suburbs in order to compensate for the crops that the Franks were obtaining from areas under joint administration. For instance, Aleppo in 1110 and 1114Footnote 332 and Damascus in the 1120sFootnote 333 cultivated the surrounding wastelands.

In building castles, the Franks were motivated by the desire to possess a countryside that would guarantee them the provision of food supplies. In this context, Claude Cahen, Joshua Prawer, Paul Deschamps, Michel Balard, Karen Armstrong, and Steve Tibble were not right when they reduced the function of the Crusaders’ fortresses to the military defensive aspect, which was to protect their newly emerging citiesFootnote 334. Adrian Boas accepted this in his anatomical description of the castles of the Templers and the Hospitallers, stressing that their castles controlled and managed agricultural landsFootnote 335.

However, the presence of these castles brought into focus the Franks’ need for agricultural supplies during their intermittent campaigns. The Franks used to fight during the harvest season, in the spring and summerFootnote 336. Horses and mules typically require feed quantities of not less than 2.2 to 2.7 kg of barley and 4.5 to 6.8 kg of hay and water between 22.75 and 36.4 litres per day. If these mounts were left to graze, twenty horses would graze out an acre of medium-quality pasture per dayFootnote 337. The fighters ate meat, cheese, biscuits and wine, but when these goods were unavailable, they relied on large quantities of bread. Consequently, their need for wheat and barley was essentialFootnote 338.

On this basis, an army of 15,000 would need at least 288,400 kg of provisions for two or three weeks, excluding water, wine, oil, cheese, fish, lard, and animal feedFootnote 339. The Frankish army besieging Aleppo in 1124 was about the same numberFootnote 340; it suffered throughout the winter months (October-January) as badly as the people of Aleppo due to the lack of agricultural supplies, especially wheat and barleyFootnote 341. Similarly, during the siege of Damascus in 1129, the Frankish army consisted of 2,000 knights and more than ten thousand infantries who suffered from the same conditions. According to Tibble and Morton, roads became more difficult, fodder for horses became scarcer, and supporting a large army in enemy territory became a logistical nightmareFootnote 342.

These two sieges failed because of winter and a lack of agricultural supplies. However, King Baldwin II – leader of both sieges – wanted to have lands for settlers and colonial militia to farm and fiefs to support the ever-growing numbers of knights needed to defend the bordersFootnote 343. This was confirmed by Muhammad K. Ali, saying: ‘The Franks were keen to seize the villages of Aleppo, Al Beqaa, Ḥawrān, Al-Sawâd, and Balqāʾa to obtain their crops because most of the Palestinian villages were battlefields that did not feed their armies’Footnote 344. This view may be supported by Hans Mayer’s assertion that the construction of Frankish castles was accompanied by agricultural settlement expansionFootnote 345. In the same context, Ronnie Ellenblum believed that some castles were symbols of power and the nuclei of new settlementsFootnote 346. He confirmed that some Frankish castles were built to supervise the villages and crops and to activate the markets. This was kept pace with the growing agricultural movement and Frankish settlement in the LevantFootnote 347. Ellenblum’s opinion was based on Raymond Smail’s functional analysis of castles and fortresses, where he stated that it was not only military, but one of its tasks was to monitor Muslim villages and farmers and to ensure tax collection, citing castles built for this purpose during the first settlement periodFootnote 348. Accordingly, the Frankish castles represented bridgeheads that ensured the arrival of agricultural supplies to their citiesFootnote 349.

A good example of this strategy was in the citadel of Safed, which guarded the Bāniyās outskirts, overlooked Lake Tiberias, and controlled a wide meadow abundant with agricultural supplies. Although the best stories about this castle came from sources in the thirteenth century, their content was not far from the reality of the twelfth century. It was reported that the villages affiliated with the Castle of Safed amounted to two hundred and sixty villages with ten thousand people, whose agriculture included grains, vegetables, figs, pomegranates, and vines (see Table 4). The castle’s livestock grazing and fishing were widespreadFootnote 350. A note to Al-Umari revealed that crops were brought from Damascus to SafedFootnote 351. Although Meron Benvenisti believed there was an exaggeration in the number of villages affiliated with this castle, he did not mind the presence of a Frankish settlement and widespread agriculture until the 1180sFootnote 352. The castle had bakeries, twelve grain mills, wells, and cisterns. Its warehouses accommodated twelve thousand mule loads of wheat, barley, and other foods annuallyFootnote 353. This made it an ideal Frankish settlement and a vital storehouse, supplying Jerusalem with foodFootnote 354.

Table 4. The important crops that the Kingdom of Jerusalem benefited from the Damascus rural suburbs

The success of the Franks of Jerusalem in building Toron in 1104 was no less than their success in Safed. William of Tyre and Jacob of Vitry praised the countryside near Toron Castle and its fertile lands, abundant production of vines and fruit, and, consequently, its abundant supplies for the population of the KingdomFootnote 355. Similar to Toron was the castle of Chateau Neuf, overlooking Bāniyās (built circa 1107), which Ibn Jubayr praised and noted that Muslims and Franks shared its crops and pastures fairlyFootnote 356. Similar to these two castles was Subeibe Castle, which was owned by the Franks in 1129. It was on top of Bāniyās countryside, overlooking the villages and fields southwest of DamascusFootnote 357. The Franks fortified this castle well and filled it with food storesFootnote 358. Here, it is worth reconsidering Müller-Weiner’s statement that Al-Subeibe, along with the Safed castle and the Toron castle, protected the northern borders of the Kingdom of JerusalemFootnote 359. It is likely that the function of these three castles, besides Chateau-Neuf Castle, was not military, as much as it was an attempt to gain control over the Bāniyās countryside, to ensure the arrival of the necessary agricultural supplies to the Kingdom and to provide a stable income through taxes imposed on commercial goodsFootnote 360.

However, some scholars rejected this argument for building Crusader castles. For example, Michel Fulton ignored the importance of the countryside of Montreal castle, which Baldwin I built in 1115 on the eastern side of Wadi Araba, south of the Dead SeaFootnote 361. He reported that its construction aimed to control the trade route between Syria and Egypt and monitor the passage of Muslim pilgrim caravansFootnote 362. He was undoubtedly influenced by Albert of Aachen’s accountFootnote 363 and the scholars who supported him, such as René Grousset, Claude Cahen, and Jonathan Philips, about the desire of the Kingdom of Jerusalem to control trade beyond the Dead SeaFootnote 364. Fulton may also have been influenced by Jacques de Vitry Footnote 365and the scholars who supported him, such as Rey, Conder, Prutz, DeschampsFootnote 366, Prawer, Mayer, and Tibble, who emphasised the strategic importance of Montreal and Karak castlesFootnote 367. In contrast, William of Tyre asserted that Montreal castle protected the countryside, extending to the east and north, and was wealthy by producing essential goods for the Kingdom of Jerusalem’s population, such as wheat, wine, and oilFootnote 368. Al-Idrisi confirmed this, adding almond, fig, and pomegranateFootnote 369. Nicholas Morton summed it up by saying Montreal was used as a staging post, supply base, and place of retreatFootnote 370. The remains of three Frankish mills affiliated with the castle assured the abundance of grain arriving at Montreal castleFootnote 371. Oliver of Paderborn emphasised the logistical importance of the two castles to Jerusalem, saying: ‘Whoever holds Montreal and Karak castles in his power can very seriously injure Jerusalem with her fields and vineyards when he wishesFootnote 372’. According to sources, the Franks threatened the trade line between Cairo and Damascus, passing the Jordan River, on several occasions prior to the construction of Montreal and KarakFootnote 373. Therefore, the two castles did not only stand within the framework of the commercial space suggested by these historians but also highlight its logistical importance in supplying Jerusalem with vital supplies. They were also administrative centres for the collection of agricultural and caravan taxesFootnote 374. Thus, it encouraged Baldwin I to rebuild another nearby castle, al-Wu’ayra, in 1116 on the head of Wādī Mūsā area, which was full of wheat, pastures and various fruit trees, for the same purposeFootnote 375. This prompted Micaela Sinibaldi to say that the Petra region not only represented an important agricultural source for the Franks but was also a settlement outpostFootnote 376.

The Franks established customs ports next to countryside castles. For example, a customs port was established near Toron for taxing goods in the amount of 1/24 of the value of the goods passingFootnote 377. Like Toron, the castle of Mons Glavianus was established by King Baldwin II in October 1125, six miles from Beirut, to control the agricultural valleys extending to this city and to facilitate the collection of taxes from its villages as far as Bāniyās Footnote 378.

The Franks controlled forts located on trade routes, such as the Al-Qubba fortress, southwest of Aleppo, through which they collected huge taxes from the trade convoys passing between Aleppo and the southern part of the LevantFootnote 379. In addition, they benefited from their castles in extending trade lines between their coastal cities and Islamic cities such as Mosul, Damascus, and AleppoFootnote 380. For example, when Tancred sought to build Tell Ma’shar castle (Sarc), he intended to secure a road between it and Apamea and the castle of Kasrael, all the way to the port of JablehFootnote 381. This account confirmed Prawer’s suggestion that the Franks wanted their cities to be more like transit stations, receiving Islamic goods and sending them to EuropeFootnote 382.

In sum, Frankish castles were built for military purposes but served as economic bases at the same time. They ensured the arrival of agricultural supplies to the Crusader cities, on the one hand, and provided a fixed outlet for receiving commercial goods and collecting taxes, on the other.

Conclusion

Contrary to the old stereotype that the Frankish community in the Levant relied mainly on food supplies coming from Western Europe, this study attempts to prove that the Islamic countryside was a major warehouse for the Franks in the Levant throughout the first half of the twelfth century, supplying them with grains and various necessary crops directly connected to the markets of the Frankish cities. Their flow triggered the development of the markets of these cities, and the opposite led to their poverty, as happened on several occasions; some of the Crusader cities were subjected to famine when the supplies of the Islamic countryside were interrupted, as happened in Jerusalem in 1154 and in Antioch in 1164. Therefore, the Islamic countryside was not a source of hostility until the Zengids built their united state.

The supplies carried by European commercial cities to the Crusader cities in the Levant were very scarce in the first half of the twelfth century compared to the increasing requirements of the residents of these cities. Italian investments in the Levant did not become active until the 1130s, after the Zengids appeared, whose efforts to unite the Islamic forces led to limiting or cutting off the supplies of the Islamic countryside from the Franks.

The Frankish attacks on Islamic cities were not aimed at sabotage as much as they were a means of pressuring the Muslim rulers to conclude adequate agreements, securing the Franks a permanent share of the crops of the Islamic countryside. These agreements were among the basics of the economy of the Crusader cities, and their benefits went beyond the military aspect to being economic necessities for living, as they allowed the Franks to secure their vital supplies for decades. Accordingly, the Franks did not build their castles for military purposes only, as much as they aimed to perpetuate their agreements with the Muslims and preserve their share of their crops.

The intersection of the construction of castles with settlement projects had an impact on the diversification of the Frankish administration. The Franks demonstrated their ability to adapt to the joint management of the Muslim countryside villages. They also intervened in the type of crops grown in the shared villages and were keen to diversify them to include consumed and commercial ones.

Although the Frankish settlement in the Islamic countryside was not well-defined, it undoubtedly helped facilitate the administration of the communal villages. In their economic and social behaviours in the Levant, the Franks were driven by a European character intertwined with feudal influences. However, they benefited from influences in interacting and dealing with the Islamic countryside, and they appeared as an aristocratic minority controlling the Muslim peasants, who were oscillating between the authentic religious feeling that forced it to accept the ruler as fate and the feverish desire to preserve crops and food, even if it was the lowest standard of living.

References

Notes

1 William of Tyre, A History of Deeds Done Beyond the Sea, trans. E. Babcock and A. Krey (New York, 1943), vol. 2, 15: 21.

2 Claude Cahen, Orient et Occident au temps des croisades (Paris, 1983), p. 71. See: P. Slavin, ‘Crusaders in crisis: towards the Re-Assessment of the origins’, Imago temporis Medium Aevum 4 (2010), 175–199. A famous battle took place in front of Antioch on December 31, 1098, which John France called ‘foraging battle’. See: Victory in the East: A Military History of the First Crusade (Cambridge; New York, 1994), pp. 237–241.

3 See: Raymond d’Aguilers, Historia Francorum qui ceperunt Iherusalem, trans. J. Hill, L. Hill (Philadelphia, 1968), pp. 35–36, 59, 76, 81–82; Fulcher of Chartres, A History of The Expedition to Jerusalem, 1095–1127, trans. R. Ryan (Knoxville, 1969), 1, 15: 11–13, 15; 16: 1–2; Ralph of Caen, The Gesta Tancredi, trans. B. Bachrach & D. Bachrach (Hampshire & Burlington, 2005), pp. 79, 81, 85–86, 97, 101–10, 115–116; Anselm of Ribemont, Letter to Manasses of Rheims, in: A. Krey (ed.) The first Crusade; The Accounts of Eyewitnesses and Participants (Princeton, 1921), pp. 157–160 esp. 159. Godfrey, Raymond and Daimbert, Letter to the Pope Paschal (Laodicea, Sep. 1099), in: D. Munro (ed.), Letters of the Crusaders, Translations and Reprints from the Original Sources of European History, vol. 1: 4, (Philadelphia, 1896), pp. 8–11 esp. 9; Caffaro, Genoa and the Twelfth Century Crusades, trans. M. Hall & J. Phillips, (Farnham & Burlington, 2013), pp. 106–107; Peter Tudebode, Historia de Hierosolymitano itinere, trans. J. Hill and L. Hill, (Philadelphia, 1974), pp. 78–80, 99; Henry of Huntingdon, The History of the English People, 1000–1154, trans. D. Greenway (Oxford, New York, 2002), p. 44. Ekkehard of Aura, The Hierosolymita, trans. M. King, in: A Thesis Presented to the History Department, University of Washington, in Completion of the History Honors Thesis Requirement, 2011, p. 60.

4 See the promise of Tatikios, the Byzantine delegate, to the Crusaders at gates of Antioch: Gesta Francorum: Deeds of the Franks and the other Pilgrims to Jerusalem, ed. R. Hill (Oxford, 1967), 6: 16; Raymond d’Aguilers, pp. 36–37; Anna Comnena,The Alexiad, trans. E. Sewter (Baltimore and Maryland, 1969), 11: 4; Orderic Vitalis, The Ecclesiastical History, trans. M. Chibnall (Oxford, 1980), vol. 5, pp. 73, 75. Cf. Raymond of Aguilers, p. 88; Peter Tudebode Historia, pp. 108–109.

5 Michel Balard, Croisades et Orient Latin (XIe-XIVe siècle) (Paris, 2001), pp. 52–53 ff. The Crusaders received food supplies from local Muslim rulers, such as ruler of Shaizar who provided them with the food and animals. See: Peter Tudebode, Historia, pp. 104–105.

6 Gesta Francorum, 10: 35–36; Fulcher of Chartres, A History, 1, 25: 9, 12; Raymond of Aguilers, p. 105; Roger of Wendover, Flowers of History, trans. J. Giles (London, 1849), vol. 1, pp. 426–427; Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl Tārīkh Dimashq (Beirut, 1908), p. 136. See more details in: William O’Dell, Feeding Victory: The Logistics of the First Crusade 1095–1099, MA diss., (Western Carolina University, 2020).

7 Joshua Prawer, The Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem: European Colonialism in the Middle Ages (London, 1972), p. 19; J. Richard, ‘Agricultural conditions in the Crusader states’, in: K. Setton (ed.), A History of the Crusades, vol. 5 (Wisconsin & London, 1985), 264–265. On the difficulty of sailing in winter, see: Albert of Aachen: Historia Ierosolimitana: History of the Journey to Jerusalem, trans. S. Edgington (Oxford, 2007), 12, 4; Lettres de Jacques de Vitry, ed. R. Huygens, Leiden: Brill, 1960, no. 2, pp. 79–97 esp. 80.

8 Cahen, Orient et Occident, pp. 96, 108, 110–111, 126; Hatim El Tahawi, Al’iiqtisad al Salibi fi Bilād al-Shām (The Crusader economy in the Levant) (Cairo, 1999), p. 99.

9 See: Claude Cahen, La Syrie du nord à l’époque des croisades et la principauté franque d’Antioche (Paris, 1940), p. 473; Richard, ‘Agricultural conditions in the Crusader states’, p. 263; Prawer, The Latin Kingdom pp. 22–23, 373–374. Cf. Andrew Watson, Agricultural Innovation in the Early Islamic World (Cambridge, 1983), p. 83.

10 A. Grabois, ‘Christian pilgrims in the thirteen century and the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem: Burchard of Mount Sion’, in: B. Kedar, H. Mayer, R. Smail (eds.), Outremer: Studies in the History of the Crusading Kingdom of Jerusalem Presented to Joshua Prawer (Jerusalem, 1982), 286; Slavin, ‘With a grain of sugar’, p. 27.

11 See: Tibble, The Crusader Strategy, pp. 103–104, 110. Josiah Russell provided an approximate percentage of the population of Edessa, as well as the ratio of population density to land. See: Medieval Regions and Their Cities (Bloomington, 1972), pp. 202–203.

12 Monique Amouroux-Mourad, Le Comté d’Édesse (1098-1150) (Paris, 1988), pp. 21–44.

13 Chronique de Matthieu d’Edesse 962-1136, avec la continuation de Grégoire le Prêtre jusqu’ en 1162, ed. A. Durand (Paris, 1858), 3: 182; Abū Shāma, Kitāb al-RawḌatayn fī akhbār al-dawlatayn al-Nūriyya wa-l-ṣalāḤiyya (Beirut, 1997), vol. 1, pp. 117–118, 138; Ibn ḲāḌī Shuhba, Al-Kawākib al-Durrīyah fī al-sīrah al-nūrīyah, in: Suhayl Zakkar (ed.), Al Mawsūʻah al-Shāmīyah (Damascus, 1995), vol. 23, p. 200.

14 Just like what happened in 1100–1101: Chronique de Matthieu d’Edesse, 2: 163–164.

15 A History of Deeds, 1, 10: 29, 11: 7.

16 Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil fī l-Tārīkh (Beirut, 2003), vol. 9, p. 233; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat al-Halab fi ta’arikh Halab (Beirut, 1996), pp. 248, 276; Ibn ḲāḌī Shuhba, Al-Kawākib al-Durrīyah, p. 235. Nicholas Morton comments that the Frankish capture of Harran would have brought Edessa closer to Aleppo. See: The Crusader States, p. 42. This is incorrect, as the Euphrates separates Aleppo to the west from Harran to the east, but it is logical that Tell Bashir is what brought Edessa closer to Aleppo, as it lies with Aleppo to the west of the Euphrates.

17 See the details in: Al-Muhallebi, Al-Azizi: Al-Masālik w’al-Mamalik (Damascus, 2006), pp. 85–86; Ibn Hawqal, ṣūrat al-’ArḌ (Beirut, 1992), pp. 162–164; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Bughyat al-Talab fī Tārīkh Ḥalab (Damascus, 1988), vol. 1, pp. 58–60; Al-Umari, Masālik al-abṣār fī mamālik al-amṣār, (Beirut, 2010), vol. 3, pp. 367–368; Ibn al-ShuḤnah, Al-Durr al-muntakhab fī Tārīkh mamlakat Halab (Damascus, 1988), pp. 250–254.

18 Bughyat al-Talab, 1, pp. 53, 55, 57.

19 Ibn al-ShuḤnah, Al-Durr, p. 218; Ibn Saʿīd al-Maghribī, Kitab al-Jughrāfiyā (Beirut, 1970), 154.

20 Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, p. 292.

21 A History of Deeds, 1, 11: 22.

22 Edessa was hit by famine in 1112, and its people did not find wheat. See: Ibid. Edessa suffered greatly in 1133 because the locust attacked its fields. See: Chronique de Michel le Syrien, trad. J.-B. Chabot (Paris, 1905), vol. 3, 16: 6.

23 William of Tyre, A History of Deeds, 2, 16: 4.

24 Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, pp. 275–276. Al-Tabbakh al-Halabi, Ālam al-nubʼalāʼ bi-Tārīkh Halab al-shahbā (Aleppo, 1988), vol. 1, p. 385.

25 Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, p. 297.

26 Andrew Jotischky, Crusading and the Crusader States (London & New York, 2017), p. 82.

27 Cahen, Orient et Occident, p. 119. Cf. J. La Monte, ‘Crusade and Jihad’, in: Nabih Faris (ed.), The Arab Heritage (New Jersey, 1946), 170–172.

28 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 310; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, p. 335; idem, Bughyat, p. 267; Ibn Abī al-Dam al-Ḥamawī, al-Tārīkh al-Muẓaffari, in: Suhayl Zakkar (ed.), al-Mawsūʻah al-Shāmīyah, vol. 21, p. 234; Izz al-Din ibn Shaddād, Al-a’laq al-khatira fi dhikr umara’ al-Sham wa’l-Jazira (Damascus, 1991), vol. 1, pt. 2, p. 85.

29 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 305; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Bughyat, 1, p. 322; Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarridj al-kurūb fī akhbār Banī Ayyūb (Cairo, 1953), vol. 1, p. 124. Cf. Chronique de Michel le Syrien, 3, 17: 12; Ibn al-Wardi, Tārīkh (Beirut, 1996), vol. 2, p. 50.

30 It is likely that the income of Aintab and Marash was between 200 and 300 thousand dirhams, similar to Tell Bāshir and Aʿzāz. See: Al-Izz ibn Shaddād, Al-a’laq, 1, pt. 2, pp. 14–28, 124–132.

31 Paul Deschamps, Les châteaux des Croisés en Terre Sainte, vol. 3: La défense du comté de Tripoli et de la principauté, Etude historique, geographique, toponymique et monumentale (Paris, 1974), p. 53. Cf. Russell, Medieval Regions and Their Cities, pp. 200–202.

32 See: D. Kaniewski, et. al., ‘Medieval coastal Syrian vegetation patterns in the principality of Antioch’, The Holocene 21: 2 (2010), 251–262; Balázs Major, Medieval Rural Settlements in the Syrian Coastal Region (Oxford, 2015).

33 See: Thomas Asbridge, The Creation of the Principality of Antioch, 1098-1130 (Woodbridge, 2000), pp. 47–50, 62–67; Morton, The Crusader States, p. 34.

34 Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Bughyat, 1, p. 85. Cf. Baldric of Bourgueil, History of the Jerusalemites, A Translation of the Historia Ierosolimitana, trans. S. Edgington (Woodbridge, 2020), p. 79.

35 See details in: Sarah Raphael, Climate and Political Climate: Environmental Disasters in the Medieval Levant (Leiden, Boston, 2013), p. 22, table 1.1; Heather Crowley, The Impact of the Franks on the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem: Landscape, Seigneurial Obligations, and Rural Communities in the Frankish East, PHD diss., (Cardiff University, 2016), pp. 97–99, 101–102 ff. Perhaps this is a response to the claims of some researchers that the Levant was suffering from painful economic crises before the arrival of the Crusaders. See: Moshe Gile, A History of Palestine, 634-1099, trans. E. Broido (Cambridge, 1992), pp. 409–418; Ronnie Ellenblum, The Collapse of the Eastern Mediterranean: Climate Change and the Decline of the East (Cambridge, 2012), pp. 196–224.

36 See: Al-Dhahabi, Duwal al-Islam (Beirut, 1999), vol. 2, p. 7.

37 Slavin, ‘With a grain of sugar’, pp. 1–38.

38 Ibn Munqidh, Kitab al-I’tibar (Beirut, Damascus, Amman, 2003), pp. 103, 106–107, 134, 142–143; Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, pp. 30, 159, 171; idem, Al-Tārīkh al-Bāhir fī al-Dawlah al-Atābakīyah bi-al-Mawṣil (Cairo, 1963), p. 101; Ibn ḲāḌī Shuhba, Al-Kawākib, p. 230. Also: Wolfgang Müller-Wiener, Castles of the Crusaders (New York, 1966), p. 56.

39 Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, pp. 248, 297; Deschamps, Les châteaux, pp. 62–63.

40 Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, 269–270; Ibn al-ʿAmīd, Historia Saracenica (Kitāb al-Tārīkh), ed. Erpenius (Leiden, 1625), p. 296; Réne Grousset, L’Épopée des croisades (Paris, 1968), p. 88.

41 Ralph of Caen, Gesta, p. 171; Al-Aẓīmī, Tārīkh Halab (Damascus, 1984), p. 362; Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, pp. 84–85; Ibn al-Wardi, Tārīkh, 2, p. 16. Olives were the most important crops of Artah countryside. See: Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Bughyat, 1, p. 60.

42 As for Rugia. See: Peter Tudebode, p. 98; Ralph of Caen, p. 85; Robert the Monk, History of the First Crusade, trans. C. Sweetenham (Aldershot, Burlington, 2005), p. 182. Cf. Fulcher of Chartres, 2, 45: 4; Deschamps, Les châteaux, pp. 85–86. As for Arcican, see: Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, 1, p. 274; René Dussaud, Topographie historique de la Syrie antique et médiévale (Paris, 1927), pp. 174–177; Deschamps, Les châteaux, pp. 86–87. As for Rusa, see: Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, p. 274. Abulfeda, Al-Mukhtasar fi Akhbar al-Bashar (Cairo, 1998), vol. 4, p. 53. Cf. Dussaud, Topographie, pp. 176–177. Deschamps, Les châteaux, pp. 86–87. As for the Al-Ruj Plain, see: Ahmed W. Zakaria, An Archaeological Tour in Some Levantine Countries (Damascus, 1984), pp. 123–124.

43 See: Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Bughyat, 1, p. 327; Izz ibn Shaddād, Al-a’laq, 1, pt. 2, pp. 133–134; Ibn al-ShuḤnah, Al-Durr al-muntakhab, p. 176. See: Asbridge, The Creation of Antioch, pp. 59–61.

44 The Crusader States, pp. 22, 65.

45 The Crusades, see. ch. 5.

46 Crusading Warfare, pp. 25–26, 67, 139.

47 Crusader Institutions, p. 102. On this basis, perhaps it is appropriate to reconsider Thomas Asbridge classification of the Near East during the Crusades as a land of ‘perpetual war’. See: The Crusades: The Authoritative History of the War for the Holy Land (New York, 2010), pp. 175, 671.

48 See: Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat al-Halab, 1, pp. 268–270.

49 Al-Aẓīmī, Tārīkh Halab, p. 369; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, 269–270; Al-Tabbakh al-Halabi, p. 377.

50 Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 185.

51 Ibn al-ShuḤnah, Al-Durr al-muntakhab, p. 218. Dussaud pointed out the strategic importance of Kafr Tab and Maʿarat, as they were located on the most important roads between Aleppo, Ḥamāh, and Shaizar. See: Topographie, pp. 187–194.

52 Abū Shāma, Kitāb al-RawḌatayn, 1, p. 117; Bar-Hebraeus, Tārıkh al-Zamān (Beirut, 1986), p. 143; Al-Nuwayri, Nihāyat al-Arab fī funūn al-adab (Beirut, 2004), vol. 27, p. 88.

53 See: Cahen, La Syrie du nord, p. 473.

54 Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, pp. 278–280; Ibn al-ShuḤnah, Al-Durr al-muntakhab, p. 218; Ibn ḲāḌī Shuhba, Al-Kawākib, p. 200.

55 Deschamps, Les châteaux, p. 60.

56 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 209; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, pp. 283–284.

57 See: Events of year 1124: Tārīkh Al-Aẓīmī, in: Ihsan Abbas (ed.,) Fragments from Missing Books in History (Beirut, 1988), pp. 65–66; Dhayl Mukhtasar al-Tabari, in: Ibid, p. 157; Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 230; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, pp. 292–295; Bar-Hebraeus, Tārıkh al-Zamān, p. 143; Sibat al-Halabi, Konouz a-Zahab fi Tārīkh Halab, (Aleppo, 1996–1997), vol. 1, p. 196. Cf. Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarridj, 1, p. 39. Tibble, Crusader Strategy, 69–73.

58 Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, p. 296; Ibn al-Wardi, Tārīkh, 2, p. 34. Cf. Asbridge, The Creation, 89–90.

59 Ibn Munqidh, Kitab al-I’tibar, pp. 205–206.

60 Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 254; idem, Al-Tārīkh al-Bāhir, pp. 39–42; Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarridj, 1, p. 43; Ibn al-Wardi, Tārīkh, 2, p. 34; Abū Shāma, Kitāb al-RawḌatayn fī akhbār al-dawlatayn, 1, pp. 118–119; Ibn ḲāḌī Shuhba, Al-Kawākib, 203–204.

61 Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 254; Abū Shāma, Kitāb al-RawḌatayn, 1, p. 119.

62 Al-Aẓīmī, Tārīkh Halab, p. 385; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, p. 308.

63 Ibn Abi Tayyi, in: History of Ibn al-Furat, (Arab. manuscript) Cairo, No. 2197, vol. 2, 91–92; Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarridj, vol. 1, pp. 74–75; Ibn al-ʿAdīm identified this conquest as the year 1135: Zubdat, p. 312; Ibn al-Athīr placed it in 1139: Al-Tārīkh al-Bāhir, p. 61; Ibn ḲāḌī Shuhba quoted him: Al-Kawākib al-Durrīyah, p. 216.

64 Al-Aẓīmī, Tārīkh Halab, pp. 389, 394; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, p. 319; Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarridj, 1, pp. 76–77.

65 Al-Aẓīmī, Tārīkh Halab, p. 395; Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, pp. 310–311; idem, Al-Tārīkh al-Bāhir, p. 59; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, p. 321; Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarridj, 1, pp. 85–86; Ibn al-Wardi, Tārīkh, 2, p. 42.

66 Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat al-Halab, p. 328.

67 Andrew Buck, The Principality of Antioch and its Frontiers in the Twelfth Century (Woodbridge, 2017), pp. 24–26, 35–36; Morton, The Crusader States, pp. 101–103. See: Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Tārīkh al-Bāhir, pp. 37–38, 42, 81.

68 Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 348; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, p. 330; Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarridj, 1, p. 112. Cf. Ibn ḲāḌī Shuhba, Al-Kawākib al-Durrīyah, p. 225.

69 Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Tārīkh al-Bāhir, pp. 100–101; Abū Shāma, Kitāb al-RawḌatayn, 1, p. 217; Bar-Hebraeus, Tārıkh al-Zamān, p. 163.

70 Buck, The Principality of Antioch, pp. 39, 41.

71 Dhayl Tārīkh Dimashq, p. 305.

72 Epistola A. Dapiferi Templi ad Ebrardum, RHGF, vol. 15, pp. 540–541. Also: A. Buck, ‘The military orders and the principality of Antioch: a help or hindrance’, in: N. Morton (ed.), The Military Orders VII: Piety, Pugnacity, and Property (Abingdon, 2019), 285–295.

73 See notes of Bar-Hebraeus, Tārıkh al-Zamān, p. 164. Buck, The Principality of Antioch, p. 45.

74 Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, pp. 467–469; idem, Al-Tārīkh al-Bāhir, pp. 122–123; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, pp. 346–347; Abū Shāma, Kitāb al-RawḌatayn, 1, pp. 415–419; Al-Bandari, Sana Al-Barq Al-Shami (Cairo, 1979), p. 19; Ibn al-Wardi, Tārīkh, 2, p. 67. For details: Ibn ʿAsākir, Tārīkh Dimashq (Beirut, 1995), 57, pp. 118–124; Al-Izz ibn Shaddād, a’laq al-khatira, 1, pt. 2, p. 59; A collection of Poetry of Ibn Munqidh (Beirut, 1983), no. 324, pp. 252, 255.

75 Cahen, La Syrie, p. 409; Smail, Crusading Warfare, p. 183.

76 See: Buck, The Principality of Antioch, p. 158; idem, ‘The military orders and Antioch’, p. 288.

77 Chronique, 3, 18: 10. Michael the Syrian called the measure ‘marbana’. it seems that he meant the bushel, the measure known to the Franks, which was nearly 28kg from wheat.

78 Richard, Le comté de Tripoli, intro. pp. 1–8; Kevin Lewis, The Counts of Tripoli and Lebanon in the Twelfth Century (London & New York, 2017), pp. 40–41.

79 The Pilgrimage of Joannes Phocas in the Holy Land, trans: A. Stewart (London, 1889), p. 9. the population of Tripoli may exceed 20 thousand. Russell, Medieval Regions and Their Cities, p. 204.

80 Obviously, the fields of Tripoli lacked grain, compared to the abundance of vines and fruit. In his description of its crops, Jacob of Vitry mentioned wheat: Histoire des croisades, ed. M. Guizot (Paris, 1825), p. 70. Jacob was the only traveler who described grains. In his description, Burchard of Mount Sion mentioned olives, sugar cane, and fruits. See: A Description of the Holy Land, trans. A. Stewart, in: Palestine Pilgrims’ Text Society, vol. 12 (London, 1896), p. 16. Nāṣir Khusraw had previously visited Tripoli and referred to sugarcane, fruit, lemons, and dates, but did not write about grains. See: Safar-nāma (Arab. trans.) (Cairo, 1993), p. 57. Cf. Al-Umari, Masālik al-abṣār fī mamālik al-amṣār, 3, pp. 370–371; Ibn al-ShuḤnah, Al-Durr al-Muntakhab, p. 263, which raises doubts about Jacob’s narration, and confirms the poverty of Tripoli in grain.

81 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 305; Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 89.

82 A collection of Poetry, no. 281, p. 207. Cf. Abulfeda, Taqwīm al-Buldān (Beirut, 1840), p. 259.

83 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 147; SibṬ ibn al-Jawzī, Mir’at al-Zamān fī Tawarīkh al-’Ayān (Beirut, 2013), vol. 19, p. 534.

84 Al-Idrîsî, Nuzhat al-mushtāq fī ikhtirāq al-āfāq (Cairo, 2002), vol. 1, p. 372.

85 Ibn Munqidh, Kitab al-I’tibar, p. 162.

86 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 162; Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 131; Al Maqrizi, Itti‘āz al-Ḥunafā’ bi-Akhbār al-A’immah al-FāṬimīyīn al-Khulafā (Cairo, 1996), vol. 3, p. 129.

87 An Account of the Location of the Places, in: J. Wilkinson, J. Hill, W. Ryan (eds.), Jerusalem Pilgrimage 1099–1185 (London, 1988), p. 190. Cf. Ibn Jubayr, Al-Rehla (Beirut, W. D), pp. 231–232; Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 96; Deschamps, Les châteaux, p. 12.

88 A Description of the Holy Land, p. 18.

89 Al-Idrîsî, Nuzhat al-mushtāq, 1, p. 374.

90 C. Chlela, ‘Some observations on the medieval rural settlements in northern Lebanon twelfth-Thirteenth centuries’, Social Sciences & Humanities Open 9 (2024), p. 6. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ssaho.2023.100780.

91 Ibn Abi al-Haija, Tārīkh (Cairo, 1993), p. 163. Ibn al-ʿAmīd, Historia, p. 296. Müller-Wiener, Castles, p. 50; Deschamps, Les châteaux, p. 12–13, 307, 309; Chlela, ‘Some observations’, p. 6.

92 Cartulaire général de l’Ordre des Hospitaliers, 1, no. 144, pp. 116–118.

93 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 165; SibṬ ibn al-Jawzī, Mir’at al-Zamān, 20, p. 36; Ibn Wāṣil Al-Hamawi, El-Tārīkh el-Salihi, in: Zakkar (ed.), Mawsūʻah al-Shāmīyah, 21, p. 456; Ibn Abi Al-Haija, Tārīkh, p. 163.

94 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 171; Ibn Abi Al-Haija, Tārīkh, p. 165.

95 Alliances and Treaties between Frankish and Muslim Rulers in the Middle East: Cross-Cultural Diplomacy in the Period of the Crusades, trans. P. Holt (Leiden; Boston, 2013), pp. 90, 312–313.

96 The Counts of Tripoli, pp. 58, 78, 112.

97 The Impact of the Franks, pp. 297, 299.

98 Tārıkh al-Zamān, p. 132.

99 Müller-Wiener, Castles, p. 62; Smail, Crusading Warfare, pp. 218, 221–222.

100 Al-Aẓīmī, Tārīkh Halab, p. 388; Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, pp. 258–259; Ibn Abi Tayyi, in: History of Ibn al-Furat, 2: 90 (2); Jean Kinnamos, Chronique, trad. J. Rosenblum (Paris, 1972), pp. 25–26; William of Tyre, History of Deeds, 2, 14: 25; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, p. 314; Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, pp. 298–299; Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarridj, 1, pp. 72–73; Ibn Wāṣil Al-Hamawi, el-Tārīkh el-Salihi, p. 478. Cf. Ibn al-ʾAthīr, Al-Tārīkh al-Bāhir, pp. 59–61, Abū Shāma, Kitāb al-RawḌatayn, 1, pp. 130–131; Ibn ḲāḌī Shuhba, Al-Kawākib, p. 215.

101 Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 10, p. 37; idem, Al-Tārīkh al-Bāhir, p. 154; Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarridj, 1, p. 220; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, p, 356.

102 Smail, Crusading Warfare, pp. 101–102, 104. See: Regesta regni Hierosolymitani, no. 212, pp. 53–54; Cartulaire général de l’Ordre des Hospitaliers, 1, no. 144, pp. 116–118; Cahen, La Syrie, pp. 515–517; Jean Richard, Le comté de Tripoli sous la dynastie toulousaine (1102-1187) (Paris, 1945), p. 63.

103 Al-Rehla, pp. 229, 232–233. Also: Müller-Wiener, Castles, pp. 59–62; Deschamps, Les châteaux, pp. 15–18.

104 Nāṣir Khusraw, Safar-nāma, p. 67; The Pilgrimage of Joannes Phocas, p. 17; The Life and Journey of Daniel the Abbot (1106–1107) in: Jerusalem Pilgrimage, 1099–1185, p. 135; Fulcher of Chartres, 1, 26: 1-2; Theoderich of Würzburg, Guide to the Holy Land, in: Ibid , pp. 276–277; William of Tyre, History of Deeds, 1, 8: 2; Jacques de Vitry, Histoire, p. 97.

105 Sæwulf‘s Travel (1102–1103), in: Jerusalem Pilgrimage, 1099–1185, p. 109; The Pilgrimage of Joannes Phocas, p. 17; The Life and Journey of Daniel the Abbot, pp. 135, 137–138, 144, 150, 155–156; The Itinerary of Benjamin of Tudela: Critical Text, trans. M. Adler (New York, 1907), p. 20; Burchard, A Description, pp. 40, 49, 56–57, 99; Jacques de Vitry, Histoire, p. 97. Cf. Ibn Munqidh, Al-I’tibar, p. 71.

106 It had the highest population density. See: Russell, Medieval Regions, 205–206.

107 A History of The Expedition, 1, 27: 4.

108 The Ecclesiastical History, 5, p. 160.

109 Burchard, A Description, p. 100. Benjamin of Tudela praised the fruit of Damascus, he wrote: ‘No district richer in fruit can be seen in all the world’: The Itinerary, p. 29.

110 See: Hierosolymita, 36.

111 A History of The Expedition, 2, 6: 12. See: Morton, The Crusader States, p. 22.

112 Caesarea, Arsuf, Ramla and Acre. See: Roger of Wendover, Flowers of History, 1, pp. 455, 459. Tibble, The Crusader Strategy, pp. 30–53.

113 Balard, Croisades et Orient Latin, p. 101; Susan Edgington, Baldwin I of Jerusalem, 1100–1118 (London and New York, 2019), pp. 111–128. However, these cities had privileges that sometimes seemed unfair. See: Caffaro, Genoa and the Twelfth Century Crusades, trans. M. Hall & J. Phillips, (Farnham & Burlington, 2013), pp. 127–128; In same book see: Baldwin I’s concessions to Genoa in 1104. Also: Hans Mayer, The Crusades, trans. J. Gillingham (Oxford, 1988), p. 60; Robert Lopez, The Commercial Revolution of the Middle Ages 950–1350 (Cambridge, 1976), pp. 69–70.

114 Jacob of Vitry pointed this out clearly when he wrote, ‘Les hommes magnifiques et d’un grand courage, réfléchirent dans leur sagesse qu’ils ne pourraient conserver la ville “Jerusalem” qu’en agrandissant son territoire’. See: Histoire des croisades, p. 61.

115 See: Fulcher of Chartres, 2, 4: 4; Roger of Wendover, Flowers of History, 1, p. 451. Also: Jean Richard, The Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem, vol. 1 (Amsterdam, 1979), pp. 28–29, 31.

116 Nāṣir Khusraw confirmed the lack of wheat in Jerusalem: Safar-nāma, p. 86.

117 An Account of the Location of the Places, p. 189. Also: Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, pp. 20, 359; Barber, The Crusader States, p. 147.

118 AḤsan al-Taqāsīm fī Maʿrifat al-Aqālīm, (Cairo, 1991), p. 160. Also: Benvenisti, The Crusaders, p. 148; Mayer, The Crusades, 60; Barber, The Crusader States, p. 164.

119 Al-Rehla, p. 273. For more details about Bāniyās. See: Description of the Holy Land by John of Würzburg (1160–1170) (London, 1899), pp. 65, 67; Theoderic, Guide to the Holy Land, p. 312.

120 Crowley, The Impact of the Franks, pp. 44–45.

121 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, pp. 151, 158–159. Cf. Travels of Rabbi Petachia of Ratisbon, trans. A. Benisch (London, 1856), p. 53.

122 Historia Ierosolimitana, 10: 6.

123 Al-Umari transmitted the date of Safed construction from a contemporary writer named Ibn al-Wasiti: Masālik al-abṣār, 3, pp. 372–373; De constructione castri Saphet, trans. H. Kennedy, in: Crusader castles (Cambridge, New York, 1994), pp. 192, 195.

124 Chronique d‘Ernoul et de Bernard de Trésorier, ed. Mas Latrie (Paris, 1871), p. 63.

125 Ibid; Burchard, A Description, p. 21; Al-Umari, Masālik, 3, p. 373. See: Tibble, The Crusader Strategy, pp. 55–56; A. Sheir, ʿThe Military role of the fief of Tibnīn against the Muslims in the age of the Crusades (AD 1105-1187)’, Journal of Religious Culture 88 (2014), 1–20.

126 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 149; SibṬ ibn al-Jawzī, Mir’at al-Zamān, 19, p. 540; Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 89; Ibn Abi al-Haija, pp. 157–158; Al-Ayni, Aqd al-Juman, p. 23. For more details see: Micaela Sinibaldi, Settlement in Crusader Transjordan (1100–1189): A Historical and Archaeological Study, PHD diss. (Cardiff University, 2014), pp. 56–57. Maybe it’s the same fortress that called Qasr Bardawil (Baldwin’s Palace). See: Richard, The Latin Kingdom, 1, p. 31; Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, p. 43.

127 A History of Deeds, 2, 22: 21.

128 Nuzhat al-mushtāq, 1, p. 355. Cf. Ibn al-ʿArabī, Siraj al-Muridin fi Sabil al-Din (Tangier, 2017), vol. 4, pp. 318–319.

129 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 164; Ibn Abi Al-Haija, Tārīkh, p. 162; Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 130. According to Al-Nuwayri’s classification of cultivated lands in the Levant, these regions depended on rain: Nihāyat al-Arab, 8, p. 188.

130 See: Denys Pringle, The Churches of The Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem, vol. 1 (Cambridge, 1993), p. 26; Kennedy, Crusader Castles, p. 52; Morton, The Crusader States, pp. 23–24.

131 William of Tyre, 2, 22: 15. D. Nicolle, ʿAin al Ḥabīs. The cave de Suethʿ, Archéologie médiévale 18 (1988), 113–121 esp. 118; Micaela, Settlement in Crusader Transjordan (1100–1189), p. 57.

132 Dhayl Tārīkh Dimashq, p. 174. See: Ibn Abi al-Haija, Tārīkh, p. 166–167. For al-Hayaniyah, Yāqūt placed it among the villages of Al-Sawâd, near Jerash. See: Mu’jam al-Buldān (Beirut, 1977), vol. 2, p, 327. According to Al-Nuwayri’s classification, these areas were irrigated by rain, and therefore their taxes were supposed to be thirds: Nihāyat al-Arab, 8, p. 188.

133 Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 179. Cf. Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarridj al-kurūb, 2, p. 196. Perhaps Baldwin requested half of the output of the Bāniyās fields because they were irrigated with the Jordan River: Chronique d‘Ernoul, p. 63; Burchard, Description, pp. 22–23. According to Al-Nuwairi’s classification, their tax was half the crop: Nihāyat al-Arab, 8, pp. 187–188.

134 Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarridj, 2, pp. 378–379; History of Ibn al-Furat, 4, p. 62. ‘Al-Gherara’, was weight in Damascus 18 maquq. One maquq = 3 kg appr. So, one gherara= 81 kg approximately. See: Al-Muqaddasī, Ahsan al-taqāsīm, p. 181; Al-Shaizari, Nihayat ar-Rutba fi talab al-Hisba (Cairo, 1946), p. 17. At the same time, ‘al-Gherara’ was sold in Aleppo approximately for half the value, Ibn al-ʿAdīm, mentions that a 1½ maquq was sold for a dinar upon the death of Nur al-Din 1174: Zubdat al-Halab, p. 358.

135 The Life and Journey of Daniel the Abbot, p. 137.

136 See: Fulcher of Chartres, A History of The Expedition, 2, 5: 4; Al-Muqaddasī, Ahsan al-taqāsīm, pp. 161, 175, 179; Yāqūt, Mu’jam. 4, p. 217; Ibn Saʿīd, al-Jughrāfiyā, p. 152; Zakariyya’ al-Qazwini, Āthār al-bilād wa-akhbār al-ʿibād (Beirut, W. D), p. 142.

137 See: Al-Muqaddasī, Ahsan al-taqāsīm, p. 181.

138 See: Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, pp. 283–284.

139 The Crusader States, p. 68.

140 The Crusader Armies: 1099–1187 (New Haven and London, 2018), p. 15.

141 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 190. Also: Barber, The Crusader States, p. 101.

142 The agreement almost collapsed when Baldwin besieged Tyre on December 28, 1111. Ṭughtekīn reached Bāniyās and cut off land supplies from Jerusalem. See: Al Maqrizi, Itti‘āz al-Ḥunafā’, 3, p. 49. Baldwin, fearing that Ṭughtekīn would prevent supplies coming to the Kingdom via the Jawlān, lifted the siege of Tyre: Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 146; Dhahabi, Duwal al-Islam, 2, p. 10.

143 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl Tārīkh Dimashq, p. 190.

144 Fulcher of Chartres, A History of The Expedition, 2, 53: 2.

145 Ibn al-ʾAthīr mentioned that Ṭughtekīn took advantage of Baldwin’s death in 1118 and tried to overthrow the agreement, but the Franks diverted him from his intention when they raided Ḥawrān and Adhraʿāt south of Damascus: Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 178. Cf. Al Maqrizi, Itti‘āz al-Ḥunafā, 3, p. 56.

146 A History of The Expedition, 3, 12.

147 See: ‘Round table discussion’, G. Vannini and M. Nucciotti (eds.), La Transgiordania nei secoli XII-XIII e le ‘frontiere’ del Mediterraneo medievale (Oxford, 2016), 470. Cf. M. Sinibaldi, ‘The Crusader Lordship of Transjordan (1100–1189): settlement forms, dynamics and significance’, The Journal of the Council for British Research in the Levant 54/ 1 (2022), 146.

148 See: Crusader Castles, pp. 119–140, 275–286.

149 However, setting a dividing line between the Frankish and Muslim possessions was not easy. For example, Ibn Jubayr identified an oak tree as a dividing marker between the Muslims and the Franks on the borders of Baniyas: Al-Rehla, p. 273. See: Ellenblum, Crusader Castles, 138–140.

150 Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 250.

151 See: Ibn al-ʿAmīd, Historia Saracenica, p. 303.

152 Ibn al-Athīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 251. Cf. Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, pp. 212–213. Yāqūt, Mu’jam al-Buldān. 2, p. 317. Wheat known as Ḥawrāni, which was of high quality. See: Al-Muqaddasī, Ahsan al-taqāsīm, p. 160; Kurd Ali, Khitat, 4, p. 176.

153 Chronique de Michel le Syrien, 3, 16: 3. Cf. Bar-Hebraeus Tārıh al-Zamān, p. 143.

154 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, pp. 272–273; Abi Al-Haija, Tārīkh, p. 200; Ibn Abi Tayyi, in: History of Ibn al-Furat, 4, p. 28; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, p. 322; Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarridj, 1, pp. 88–89.

155 William of Tyre, A History of Deeds, 2, 22: 14–15; Chronique d‘Ernoul, p. 62; Ibn Jubayr, Al-Rehla, p. 273. Cf. Crowley, The Impact of the Franks, p. 292.

156 Orient et Occident, p. 105. Cf. Grousset, L’Épopée des croisades, p. 159; Mayer, The Crusades, p. 103; Karen Armstrong, Holy War: The Crusades and Their Impact on Today’s World (New York, 2001), pp. 207, 220–221; Jotischky, Crusading, pp. 94–95; M. Hoch, ‘The choice of Damascus as the objective of the Second Crusade: a re-evaluation’, in: M. Balard (ed.), Autour de la première croisade, Publications de la Sorbonne: Série Byzantina Sorbonensia XIV (Paris, 1996), 359–369; Jonathan Phillips, The Second Crusade: Extending the Frontiers of Christendom (New Haven and London, 2007), pp. 217–218.

157 See: V. Berry, ‘The Second Crusade’, in: A History of the Crusades, 1, 505–506; Christopher Tyerman, God’s War: A New History of the Crusades (Cambridge; Massachusetts, 2006), p. 332; David Nicolle, The Second Crusade 1148: Disaster outside Damascus (Oxford; New York, 2009), pp. 37–38; Morton, The Crusades States, p. 112.

158 A History of Deeds, 2, 15: 7.

159 See: Tyerman, God’s War, p. 330; Ronnie Ellenblum, Crusader Castles and Modern Histories (Cambridge, 2007), p. 159.

160 See: Balard, Croisades et Orient Latin, p. 132.

161 William of Tyre, A History of Deeds, 2, 16: 6.

162 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl Tārīkh Dimashq, p. 304.

163 Ibid, p. 309; Ibn abi Al-Haija, Tārīkh, pp. 217–218; Bar-Hebraeus, Tārıkh al-Zamān, p. 166; Ibn ḲāḌī Shuhba, Al-Kawākib al-Durrīyah, pp. 233–234.

164 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl Tārīkh Dimashq, p. 314.

165 Ibid, p. 315; Bar-Hebraeus, Tārıkh al-Zamān, pp. 166–167. The jurist Ibn al-Arabi praised the ghūṬa of Damascus, confirming that all types of fruits were found there. See: Ahkam al-Qur’an (Beirut, 2004), vol. 4, p. 392. Cf. Al-Idrisi, Nuzhat al-mushtāq, 1, pp. 366–369; Al-Umari: Masālik al-abṣār, 3, pp. 350–363; Ibn Kannan, al-Mawākib al-Islāmīyah fī al-mamālik wa-al-maḤāsin al-Shāmīyah (Damascus, 1993), vol. 1, pp. 393–395.

166 See: Jacques de Vitry, Histoire, p. 235. Also: Grousset, L’Épopée, pp. 169–170.

167 William of Tyre, A History of Deeds, 2, 17: 30; Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, pp. 321–322; Ibn al-Tawir Qaisrani, Nuzhat al-Muqlatin fi Akhbar al-Dawlatin (Beirut, 1992), pp. 60, 65; Ibn Abi Al-Haija, Tārīkh, pp. 217–218; Bar Hebraeus, Muḫtaṣar, p. 362.

168 A History of Deeds, 2, 18: 1.

169 Ibid, 2, 17: 26.

170 Ibid, 2, 18: 1.

171 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, pp. 325, 327; 314; Ibn ḲāḌī Shuhba, Al-Kawākib, pp. 241–242. Cf. Ibn ʿAsākir, Tārīkh Dimashq, 57, p. 120.

172 Richard, ‘Agricultural conditions’, p. 263. Cf. idem, The Latin Kingdom, 1, p. 44.

173 A History of Deeds, 2, 18: 1. Richard, ‘Agricultural conditions’, p. 263.

174 Slavin, ‘With a Grain of Sugar, pp. 4–6.

175 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 331; Abū Shāma, Kitāb al-RawḌatayn, 1, p. 328.

176 See the events of the year 1156/ 1157: Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl Tārīkh Dimashq, p. 337; Abū Shāma, Kitāb al-RawḌatayn, 1, pp. 328–329; William of Tyre, History of Deeds, 2, 18: 27–28. Also: Richard, ‘Agricultural conditions’, p. 261.

177 A History of Deeds, 2, 18: 11. The same condition can be seen in the fertile depression, east of Litani. See: Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, p. 42.

178 Albert of Aachen, Historia, 12, 31. Cf. Ekkehard, The Hierosolymita, 18, p. 66; Roger of Wendover, Flowers of History, 1, p. 451. Also: Helen Preston, Rural Conditions in the Kingdom of Jerusalem During the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries, PhD diss., (The University of Pennsylvania, 1903), p. 48.

179 William of Tyre, 2, 18: 12. For details: Jonathan Riley-Smith, The Knights of St. John in Jerusalem and Cyprus, c. 1050–1310: A History of the Order of the Hospital of St. John of Jerusalem, vol. 1 (New York, 1967), pp. 429–430; Tibble, The Crusader Armies, p. 188.

180 Al-Rehla, p. 273. For more details: D. Pringle, ‘Hospitaller castles and fortifications in the kingdom of Jerusalem, 1136–1291’, Medievalista [Online] 33 (2023), p. 3.

181 Ibn al-ʾAthīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 469; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, pp. 347–348; Ibn Wāṣil, Mufarridj, 1, p. 146; Ibn al-ʾAthīr, al-Bāhir, pp. 130–131; Abū Shāma, al-RawḌatayn, 1, p. 437; idem, Uyun al-Rawdatayn (Damascus, 1991), vol. 1, pp. 277–278; Bar-Hebraeus, Tārıkh al-Zamān, p. 177; Ibn Naẓīf al-Ḥamawī, Al-Tārīkh al-Mansuri, in: Zakkar (ed.), Mawsūʻah al-Shāmīyah, 21, p. 311.

182 Crusading Warfare, p. 99.

183 See: Raymond Smail, The crusaders in Syria and the Holy Land (New York, 1974), pp. 83–84; Y. Frenkel, ‘The impact of the Crusades on rural society and religious endowments: the case of medieval Syria (Bilad al-Sham)’, in: Yaacov Lev (ed.), War and Society in the Eastern Mediterranean, 7th–15th Centuries (Leiden, 1997), 239.

184 Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, pp. 66–67. See: Emmanuel-Guillaume Rey, Les colonies franques de Syrie aux XIIe et XIIIe siècles (Paris, 1883), p. 24.

185 Smail, Crusading Warfare, pp. 22–25; Balard, Croisades et Orient Latin, p. 87; Richard, The Latin Kingdom, pp. 85–89; El Tahawi, Al’iiqtisad al Salibi, pp. 29–50, 189–190.

186 See: J. Prawer, ‘Étude de quelques problèmes agraires et sociaux d’une seigneurie croisée au XIII[e] siècle’, Byzantion 23 (1953), 165–169; C. Cahen, ‘Aperçu sur les impôts du sol en Syrie au Moyen Âge’, Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient 18/3 (Oct., 1975), 241–244.

187 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl Tārīkh Dimashq, p. 183.

188 Chronique de Michel le Syrien, 3, 16: 2; Bar-Hebraeus, Tārīkh al-Zaman, p. 142; Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat al-Halab, p. 300.

189 Ibn Al-ʾAthīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 141. Bar-Hebraeus, Tārīkh al-zaman, p. 132; Ibn Moyassar, Akhbār Miṣr, in: al-Muntaqa of Al-Maqrīzī (Cairo, W. D), p. 78.

190 Ibn al-ʾAthīr, Al-Kāmi, 9, p. 141; Bar-Hebraeus, Tārīkh, p. 132. Cf. Jacques de Vitry, p. 83.

191 Al-Maqrizi, Itti‘āz al-Ḥunafā, vol. 3, p. 46.

192 Chronique de Michel le Syrien, 3, 16: 3; Bar-Hebraeus, Tārīkh al-Zaman, p. 143. Cf. Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, pp. 331, 336; Abū Shāma, Kitāb al-RawḌatayn, 1, p. 328.

193 Ibn al-Hariri, Al I‘lam wa a-Tabyeen (Damascus, 1981), p. 72.

194 Chronique, p. 83.

195 Ibn al-ʾAthīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 141.

196 Tārīkh al-Zaman, p. 143. Also: Cahen, ‘Aperçu sur les impôts du sol en Syrie’, p. 144.

197 Runciman, A History of the Crusades, (Cambridge, 1962), vol. 2, p. 297; Riley-Smith, The Knights of St. John, p. 23. See: Regesta Regni Hierosolymitani, pp. 5–6, 10, 12–13; Cartulaire général de l’Ordre des Hospitaliers, 1, no. 20, pp. 20–21.

198 Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, pp. 63–64; M. Benvenisti, ‘Bovaria-Babriyya: A frankish residue on the map of Palestine’, in: Outremer: Studies …pp. 130–135.

199 See: Chartes de Terre Sainte provenant de l’Abbaye de N. D. de Josaphat, ed. H.-François Delaborde (Paris, 1880), p. 70. Also: Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, p. 19; Mayer, The Crusades, pp. 59–60, 83. Cf. Jotischky, Crusading and the Crusader States, 68–69.

200 Albert of Aachen, Historia Ierosolimitana, 12, 16–17.

201 Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, p. 17; Richard, The Latin Kingdom, 1, pp. 30–31.

202 Cahen, Orient et Occident, pp. 132, 135, 163. Cf. Lopez, The Commercial Revolution, p. 96; Slavin, ‘With a grain of sugar’, pp. 37–38.

203 Cahen, Orient et Occident, p. 133. Cf. Jotischky, Crusading and the Crusader, p. 162.

204 The Crusader States, p. 26.

205 Fulcher of Chartres, A History of The Expedition, 2, 53: 2. Also: H. Fink, ‘The foundation of the Latin states 1099–1118’, in: M. Baldwin & K. Setton (eds.), A History of the Crusades (Madison, Milwaukee, and London, 1969), vol. 1, 403.

206 They mentioned that the agreement between Baldwin and Ṭughtekīn came in response to the campaign of the Mosul Turks against the Levant in 1115: Fulcher of Chartres, A History of The Expedition, 2, 53: 1–2; Ibn Al-ʾAthīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, pp. 154, 158.

207 Fulcher of Chartres, 2, 49: 11; William of Tyre, 1, 11: 19–20; Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, pp. 185–186; Ibn al-Jawzī, al-Muntaẓam fī tarīkh al-mulūk wa-al-umam (Beirut, 1992), vol. 17, p. 133; al-Fāriqī, Tārīkh (Cairo, 1959), p. 281; Ibn Al-ʾAthīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 149.

208 Fulcher of Chartres, A History of The Expedition, 2, 52: 1.

209 Al-Nuwayri, Nihāyat al-arab, 8, pp. 187–190. Also: Smail, Crusading Warfare, p. 24; Jonathan Riley-Smith, The Feudal Nobility and the Kingdom of Jerusalem 1174–1277 (London, 1973), p. 47; Tyerman, God’s War, pp. 228–229.

210 See: Y. Friedman, ‘Peacemaking in an age of War: when were cross-religious alliances in the Latin East considered treason?’ in: A. Boas (ed.), The Crusader World (London and New York, 2016), 98–105 esp. 99–100.

211 William of Tyre, A History of Deeds, 1, 11: 27. See: Albert of Aachen, Historia Ierosolimitana, 9: 31; Burchard, A Description, p. 103; Mayer, The Crusades, pp. 88, 154.

212 Fulcher of Chartres, A History of The Expedition, 3, 8: 1.

213 Cartulaire de l’église du Saint Sépulcre de Jérusalem publié d’après les manuscrits du Vatican, ed. Eugène de Rozière (Paris, 1849), no. 45, pp. 83–84; Regesta Regni Hierosolymitani, p. 21. Joshua Prawer explained that the tax exempt was on both goods and measures. See: ‘The settlement of the Latins in Jerusalem’, Speculum 27/4 (Oct., 1952), 497–498.

214 A History of Deeds, 1, 12: 15.

215 Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, pp. 68–69.

216 Frankish Rural Settlement in the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem (Cambridge, 1998), p. 16.

217 See: Fulcher, A History of Expedition, 2, 60: 1; William of Tyre, A History of Deeds, 1, 12: 13.

218 Chronique de Michel le Syrien, 3, 15: 12; William of Tyre, A History of Deeds, 1, 12: 13.

219 The Crusades, pp. 74, 154.

220 The Latin Kingdom, p. 134.

221 See: Christopher MacEvitt, The Crusades and the Christian World of the East: Rough Tolerance (Philadelphia, 2008), p. 145.

222 Al-Qalqashandī, ṣubḤ al-Aʿshá fī ṣināʿat al-Inshā, (Cairo, 1919), vol. 14, pp. 42–46.

223 Dhayl Tārīkh Dimashq, p. 337. See: lbn al-Furat, Tārīkh, 4: 1, pp. 78–79. Frenkel, ‘The impact of the Crusades’, p. 240.

224 Al-Rehla, p. 273. See: Pringle, ‘Round table discussion’, p. 470.

225 See: Al-Nuwayri, Nihāyat al-Arab, 31, pp. 48–51; Al-Maqrīzī, Kitāb al-Sulūk li-Ma‘rifat Duwal al-Mulūk, (Cairo, 1956), vol. 1: 3, pp. 976–977. Also: Ali El Sayed, Al ialaqat al’iiqtisadiat bayn almuslimin walsalibiiyn (Cairo, 1996), pp. 45–49.

226 See: John of Ibelin, Le Livre des Assises, ed. P. Edbury (Brill, Leiden, and Boston, 2003), p. 55. Cahen, Orient et Occident, p. 163. About the origin of ra’īs, see: Nicolle, Second Crusade, 28.

227 The Crusades and the Christian World of the East, pp. 151–153.

228 Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, pp. 367–368; Benvenisti, The Crusaders, pp. 218, 234.

229 Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, p. 368. Prawer mentioned that the forced labor system (Corvee) was not applied in the Levant: Ibid, p. 374. But he went back and said that it was imposed on olive and sugar cane farmers near Tyre: Ibid, pp. 375–376. See: MacEvitt, The Crusades, pp. 145–149.

230 Runciman, A History of Crusades, 2, pp. 298–299; Riley-Smith, Knights of St. John, p. 426–427.

231 Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, pp. 367–368, 374–375. Cf. Al-Nuwayri, Nihāyat al-Arab, 8, pp. 188–189. Also: El Tahawi, Al’iiqtisad al Salibi, pp. 196–197.

232 Benvenisti, The Crusaders, pp. 218–221; Riley-Smith, The Knights of St. John, p. 439.

233 Bughyat al-Talab, 6, p. 2926. Cf. Cahen, Orient et Occident, p. 81; Cobb, ‘Hamdan al-Athāribi’s history of the Franks revisited, again’, in: C. Hillenbrand (ed.), Syria in Crusader Times Conflict and Coexistence (Edinburgh, 2020), 1–19.

234 ‘The Subjected muslims of the frankish Levant’, in: The Franks in the Levant, 11 th to 14 th century (Hampshire & Burlington, 1993), 137, 156–157.

235 The Crusaders in the Holy Land, p. 218. Cf. Tyerman, God’s War, p. 226.

236 Cahen, La Syrie du Nord, pp. 456, 462; K. Lewis, ‘Medieval Diglossia: the diversity of the Latin Christian encounter with written and spoken Arabic in the ‘Crusader’ county of Tripoli, with a hitherto unpublished Arabic note from the principality of Antioch (MS, AOM 3, Valletta: National Library of Malta, no. 51v)’, Al-Masaq 27: 2 (2015), 130.

237 ‘Franks and indigenous communities in Palestine and Syria (1099–1187): a hierarchical model of social interaction in the principalities of Outremer’, in: A. Classen (ed.), East and West in the Middle Ages and Early Modern Times (Berlin, 2013), 295–307.

238 The Principality of Antioch, pp. 179–180.

239 Al-Rehla, p. 275. See: D. Talmon-Heller, ‘Arabic sources on Muslim villagers under Frankish rule’, in: A. Murray (ed.), From Clermont to Jerusalem. The Crusades and Crusader Societies 1095-1500, Selected Proceedings of the International Medieval Congress (Turnhout, 1998), 106.

240 Cartulaire des Hospitaliers, no. 457, pp. 313–314, nos. 530–532, pp. 363–364. Chartes de Terre Sainte, no. 43, p. 91. See: Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, pp. 367; MacEvitt, The Crusades, p. 150.

241 On the religious reading of Crusader sources, see: K. Mortimer, ‘Foundation and settlement in Fulcher of Chartres’ Historia Hierosolymitana: a narratological reading’, in: A. Buck, J. Kane and S. Spencer (eds.), Crusade, Settlement and Historical Writing in the Latin East and Latin West, c. 1100–c. 1300 (Woodbridge, 2024), 102–120.

242 A History of Deeds, 2, 18: 12–13.

243 Ibid, 1, 11: 26. Also: Jotischky, Crusading and the Crusader States, p. 71.

244 A History of Deeds, 2, 16: 6. See also: Ellenblum, Frankish Rural Settlement, p. 282.

245 William of Tyre, 2, 15: 21; Burchard, A Description, p. 104; Al-Umari, Masālik al-abṣār, 3, p. 377; Al-Qalqashandī, ṣubḤ al-Aʿshá, 4, pp. 155–156. See: Ellenblum, Frankish Rural Settlement, pp. 141–142, 221; M. Barber, ‘The career of Philip of Nablus in the kingdom of Jerusalem’, in: P. Edbury, and J. Phillips (eds.), The Experience of Crusading, vol. 2: Defining the Crusader Kingdom (Cambridge, 2003), 69; MacEvitt, The Crusades, p. 97; Sinibaldi, ‘The Crusader Lordship of Transjordan’, pp. 130, 142–144.

246 T. Asbridge, ‘The ‘Crusader’ community at Antioch: the impact of interaction with Byzantium and Islam’, Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 9 (1999), 309. See: Walter the Chancellor, The Antiochene Wars, trans. T. Asbridge ; S. Edgington (London; New York, 1999), p. 141 n. 148.

247 Buck, The Principality of Antioch, pp. 129–132. See: Tibble, The Crusader Strategy, p. 69; T. Asbridge, ‘The significance and causes of the battle of the Field of Blood’, Journal of Medieval History 23: 4 (1997), 301–316; Frenkel, ‘The impact of the Crusades’, p. 240; Barber, The Crusader States, pp. 121–122.

248 The Latin Kingdom, pp. 22–23.

249 Jacoby set an example of the rise of Frankish settlements in the suburbs of their Levantine cities with the settlement of Montmusard, which was born in the suburb of Acre between 1115–1120, pursuant to the edicts of Baldwin I and Baldwin II. See: ‘Montmusard, suburb of Crusader Acre: The first stage of its development’, in: Outremer: Studies …., 205–207 ff.

250 Crusading Warfare, p. 138.

251 God’s War, pp. 212–225.

252 Orient et Occident, p. 156.

253 The Crusaders in the Holy Land, pp. 218–221.

254 The Crusades, p. 152.

255 The Crusades in Syria and Holy Land, pp. 182–183.

256 ‘The Latin East 1098–1291’, in: J. Riley-Smith (ed.), The Oxford illustrated history of the Crusade (Oxford; New York, 1995), 112–113.

257 The Knights of St. John, pp. 434–438. See: MacEvitt, The Crusades, p. 126.

258 Ellenblum, Frankish Rural Settlement, pp. 13–14.

259 Ibid, p. 17. See: Regesta Regni Hierosolymitani, pp. 12, 28, 34. Mayer, The Crusades, p. 154. In 1110, Baldwin I granted two villages of Ascalon to the Bethlehem Cathedral, although Ascalon and the two villages were still under Islamic rule. See: William of Tyre, History of Deeds, 1, 11: 12.

260 D. Pringle, ‘Churches and settlement in crusader Palestine’, in: M. Bull, P. Edbury (eds.), The Experience of Crusading, Vol. 2: Defining the Crusader Kingdom (Cambridge, 2003), 164.

261 Frankish Rural Settlement, pp. 20–31. Cf. Helena Schrader, The Holy Land in the Era of the Crusades: Kingdoms at the Crossroads of Civilizations (Yorkshire and Philadelphia, 2022), esp. ch. 5; E. Tejirian & R. Simon, ‘The Latin West in the Middle East: pilgrimage, Crusade, and mission’, in: Conflict, Conquest, and Conversion: Two Thousand Years of Christian Missions in the Middle East (New York, 2012), 31.

262 See: R. Ellenblum, ‘Construction methods in Frankish rural settlements’, in: Benjamin Kedar (ed.), The Horns of Hattin: Proceedings of the Second Conference …,168–189.

263 Boas, Jerusalem in the Time of the Crusades: Society, Landscape and Art in the Holy City under Frankish Rule (London and New York, 2001), pp. 97–101. Barber, The Crusader States, p. 54–55.

264 Frankish Rural Settlement, pp. 31–35, 38 and the conclusion. See: Jotischky, Crusading and the Crusader States, p. 142; Stephen Howarth, The Knights Templar (New York, 1993), p. 96.

265 See: The Crusader States, p. 152.

266 See: The Crusader Strategy, pp. 23, 117.

267 The Impact of the Franks, pp. 303–333, 339–343.

268 See: ‘The Crusader lordship of Transjordan’, pp. 124–136. For more details: M. Sinibaldi, ‘Settlement in the Petra region during the Crusader period: A summary of the historical and archaeological evidence’, in: M. Sinibaldi, K. Lewis, J. Thompson and B. Major (eds.), Crusader Landscapes in the Medieval Levant. The Archaeology and History of the Latin East (Cardiff, 2016 b), 81–102. Cf. Tibble, The Crusader Armies, p. 176.

269 See: The Crusader Armies, pp. 177–181.

270 See: R. Ellenblum, ‘Colonization activities in the Frankish east: the example of Castellum Regis (Mi’ilya)’, The English Historical Review 111: 440 (1996), 104–122; idem, Frankish Rural Settlement, 41–45, 73–85, 103–109; Tibble, The Crusader Armies, pp. 87–96.

271 See: William of Tyre, 2, 22: 28. For more details: Riley-Smith, The Knights of St. John, p. 19; Richard Bulliet, Conversion to Islam in the Medieval Period: An Essay in Quantitative History (Cambridge, Massachusetts and London, 1979), pp. 105–113, esp. 110–112; A. Jotischky, ‘Ethnographic attitudes in the Crusader states: the Franks and the indigenous Orthodox people’, in: K. Ciggaar and H. Teule (eds.), East and West in the Crusader States, vol. III (Leuven, 2003), 1-19; Tibble, The Crusader Armies, pp. 73–87.

272 See: Tibble, The Crusader Armies, pp. 26–37; idem, The Crusader Strategy, pp. 116–117.

273 See: Cahen, Orient et Occident, pp. 86, 158–159; Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, pp. 380–381; Benvenisti, The Crusaders in the Holy Land, p. 233; Tibble, The Crusader Armies, pp. 71–72.

274 Ibn Jubayr, Al-Rehla, p. 260; al-Ḥimyarī, Kitāb al-RawḌ al-miʿṬār fi khabar al-aqṬār (Beirut, 1984), p. 202.

275 Al-Izz ibn Shaddād, a’laq al-khatira, 1, pt. 2, p. 73; Ibn al-ShuḤnah, Al-Durr al-muntakhab, 168.

276 Izz ibn Shaddād, a’laq al-khatira, 1, pt. 2, p. 69; Ibn al-ShuḤnah, Al-Durr al-muntakhab, p. 166.

277 Al-Izz ibn Shaddād, Al-A’laq al-khatira, 1, pt. 2, p. 107.

278 Prawer, Latin Kingdom, p. 375; Benvenisti, Crusaders, pp. 217–218.

279 Al-Rehla, p. 275.

280 Ibid, p. 273. Also: Table 4.

281 Ibid, p. 275. The Franks imposed the poll tax on the Jews as well. See: Crowley, The Impact of the Franks, p. 34. Cf. Shlomo Goitein, ‘Geniza sources for the Crusader period: A Survey’, in: Outremer: Studies …, 307–318 esp. 318. The head tax amount was not fixed, as according to the narration of Dia al-Din al-Muqaddasi (d. 1245 c), the Franks took from Muslims of Nablus four dinars. See: Ibn Tülún, Qalā’id al-jawharīyah fī Tārīkh al-ṣāliḤīyah (Damascus, 1981), vol. 1, p. 67; Ibn Kannan, al-Muruj al-sundusiyya (Damascus, 1947), p. 2. For more details see: H. Mayer, ‘Latins, Muslims and Greeks in the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem’ History: The Journal of the Historical Association 63/208 (Jun. 1978), 175–192, esp. 177–180.

282 The Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem, pp. 375–376.

283 Ibid, p. 157.

284 A History of the Crusades, 2, pp. 298–299.

285 Riley-Smith, The Knights of St. John, pp. 433–435.

286 Cahen, Orient et Occident, p. 86; Smail, Crusading Warfare, p. 54. Cf. Kedar, ‘The subjected Muslims’, p. 172; Niall Christie, Muslims and Crusaders: Christianity’s Wars in the Middle East, 1095-1382, From the Islamic Sources (London; New York, 2014), pp. 68–69.

287 Perhaps it was facilitated by the fact that the people of the Levant were convinced that their land was (kharaji), as confirmed by the Hanafi sheikhs in the twelfth century. See: Abu Bakar al-Marghīnānī, Hidāyah Sharh Bidāyat al-mubtadi (Karachi, 1996), vol. 4, pp. 304–305. For more details: Baber Johansen, The Islamic Law on Land Tax and Rent: The Peasants’ Loss of Property Rights as Interpreted in the Hanafite Legal Literature of the Mamluk and Ottoman Periods (London, New York, Sydney, 1988), pp. 2–3, 9–10 ff.

288 Al-Rehla, pp. 274–275. Also: Kedar, ‘The Subjected Muslims’, pp. 169–170; Christie, Muslims and Crusaders, pp. 69–70.

289 See: Ibn Tülún, Qalā’id al-jawharīyah, 1, pp. 65–70; Ibn Kannan, al-Muruj al-sundusiyya, pp. 2–4. Also: B. Kedar, ‘Some New Sources on Palestinians Muslims before and during the Crusades’, in: Franks, Muslims and Oriental Christians in the Latin West, (Hampshire & Burlington, 2006), 134–137; idem, ‘Muslim villagers of the frankish kingdom of Jerusalem’, in: Ibid , 147–148 ff; idem, ‘The subjected Muslims’, pp. 138, 151–152.

290 Philips, ‘The Latin East’, p. 114; M. Hayki, ‘Exemples de la perception levantine de l’autre à l’époque des guerres avec les Francs’, in: D. Aigle (dir.), Le Bilād al-Šām face aux mondes extérieurs (Damas-Beyrouth, 2012), 201–222; Köhler, Alliances and Treaties, 173; Morton, The Crusader States, pp. 204–205.

291 Smail, Crusading Warfare, pp. 54, 59–60. See: Tibble, The Crusader Strategy, pp. 149–156.

292 Cahen, Orient et Occident, p. 86.

293 See: The Crusades and the Christian World, esp. pp. 21–26. Cf. Y. Frenkel, ‘Muslim Responses to the Frankish dominion in the Near East (1098-1291)’, in: Conor Kostick (ed.), The Crusades and the Near East: Cultural Histories (London, 2011), 27–45.

294 The Impact of the Franks, pp. 66–67.

295 Q. Qasim, ‘Bʼad mazahir alhayaat al iajtimaeiat fi Bilād al-Shām asr alhurub alsalibia’ Aalam El Fikr 22/2 (Kuwait, 1993), 383.

296 Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat al-Halab, p. 253. Also: Cahen, La Syrie du nord, p. 260.

297 Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat al-Halab, pp. 267–268. Al-Tabbakh al-Halabi, 1, pp. 375–376.

298 A History of Deeds, 2, 15: 25. See: Mayer, The Crusades, p. 88.

299 Albert of Aachen, Historia, 12, 32. It seems that this tax continued until the reign of Baldwin III, as William of Tyre indicates that Nur al-Din paid it in 1159: A History of Deeds, 2, 18: 27.

300 Kitab al-I’tibar, pp. 135–136.

301 Guide to the Holy Land, pp. 310–311. Also: Runciman, A History of the Crusades, 2, p. 295.

302 Ḍiyā’ al-Dīn Al-Muqaddasī, Al-Hikayat al-Muqtabasa fi Karamat Mashayikh al-Ard al-Muqaddasa; Ibn, Tülún, Qalā’id al-jawharīyah, 1, p. 67; Ibn Kannan, al-Muruj, p. 2. See: Talmon-Heller, ‘Arabic sources on Muslim villagers under Frankish rule’, pp. 104–112; MacEvitt, The Crusades and the Christian World of the East, p. 146.

303 Chronique d‘Ernoul, pp. 28–29. See: Jotischky, Crusading and the Crusader States, p. 142. There are those who point out that Jerusalem had a Christian majority on the eve of the Crusaders’ arrival. See: Ibn al-ʿArabī, Tartib al-rihla li al-targhib fi al-milah and Qanun al-ta’wil (Tétouan, 1986), p. 207. Gil, A History of Palestine, p. 171; Ellenblum, Frankish Rural Settlement, 20–22.

304 See: Prawer, Histoire du royaume latin de Jérusalem. tome 1: Les croisades et le premier royaume latin, trad. Gérard Nahon, Nouvelle édition [en ligne]. (Paris, 2001), pp. 406–407 ff; idem, Crusader Institutions, p. 380. Cf. D. Jacoby, ‘The economic function of the Crusader States of the Levant: a new approach’, in: S. Cavaciocchi (ed.), Europe’s Economic Relations with the Islamic World 13–18 Centuries (Florence, 2007), 169; Morton, The Crusader States, p. 154.

305 See: John of Würzburg, Description, p. 69; Burchard, A Description, pp. 103–104. For more details: Pringle, ‘Churches and settlement’, pp. 162–164; Mayer, ‘Latins, muslims and greeks in the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem’, pp. 175–192; MacEvitt, The Crusades and the Christian World of the East, pp. 8–12, 106–115, 136–139, 155; R. Ellenblum, ‘Demography, geography and the accelerated Islamization of the eastern Mediterranean’, in: M. Rubin and I. Katzenelson (eds.), Religious Conversion History, Experience and Meaning (London, 2014), 61–80.

306 See: Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, pp. 151–152, 236–237, 242–243; Mayer, The Crusades, p. 156; Riley-Smith, The Knights of St. John, p. 19.

307 Crusading Warfare, p. 57.

308 ‘The Subjected Muslims’, pp. 147–148, 170.

309 The Commercial Revolution in the Middle Ages, pp. 40–41.

310 La Syrie, p. 476 no. 39. See: Jong-Kuk Nam, Le commerce du coton en Méditerranée à la fin du Moyen Age (Leiden, Boston, 2007), pp. 98–99; D. Jacoby, ‘Venetian Commercial Expansion in the eastern Mediterranean, 8th–11th centuries’, in: Medieval Trade in the Eastern Mediterranean and Beyond (New York; London, 2018), 14.

311 Orient et Occident, p. 163. Cf. Tyerman, God’s War, pp. 238–239. See explanation in Table 3.

312 Cahen, ‘Notes sur l’histoire des croisades’, pp. 293–294; Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, p. 372; Richard, ‘Agricultural conditions’, pp. 259–260; Benvenisti, The Crusaders, p. 219; Riley-Smith, The Knights of St. John, p. 434; Philips, ‘The Latin East’, pp. 115–116; Adrian Boas, Archaeology of the Military Orders: A Survey of the Urban Centers, Rural Settlements and Castles of the Military Orders in the Latin East (c.1120–1291), (London; New York, 2006), pp. 93–94; Jacoby, ‘The economic function of the Crusader States’, pp. 169–170; Tyerman, God’s War, p. 238; Jotischky, Crusading and the Crusader States, p. 162.

313 Mu’jam al-Buldān, 2, p. 102.

314 Al-Muhalabi- a man of the tenth century- did not mention sesame: Al-Kitab Al-Azizi (Damascus, 2006), pp. 85, 104, Ibn Al-ʿAdīm quoted him: Bughyat al-Talab, 1, p. 423.

315 Kitab al-Jughrāfiyā, p. 154. Also: Table 1.

316 Müller-Wiener, Castles, pp. 7–9; Armstrong, Holy War, pp. 188–197; MacEvitt, The Crusades and the Christian World of the East, pp. 6–7.

317 Les châteaux des Croisés, p. 59.

318 Cahen, La Syrie, pp. 326–345, 461–462, 561–568; idem, ‘Notes sur l’histoire des croisades’, p. 286; Prawer, The Crusaders’ Kingdom, p. 103; idem, Crusader Institutions, pp. 102–142; idem, The Latin Kingdom, pp. 280–281 ff; Smail, Crusading Warfare, pp. 57–63; Benvenisti, The Crusaders, p. 233; Tibble, The Crusader Armies, pp. 71–72.

319 Zubdat, p. 254. Cf. Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 174; SibṬ ibn al-Jawzī, Mir’at, 20, pp. 44–45.

320 A History of Deeds, 2, 22: 15. See: Nicolle, ʿAin al Ḥabīs. The cave de Suethʿ, pp. 117–118.

321 Abū Shāma, Kitāb al-RawḌatayn, 3, p. 106; SibṬ ibn al-Jawzī, Mir’at al-Zamān, 20, p. 47.

322 Balard, Croisades et Orient Latin, p. 155; Kristian Molin, Unknown Crusader Castles (New York; London, 2001), pp. 281, 286; Boas, Archaeology of the Military Orders, p. 105–108.

323 Raphael, Climate and Political Climate, pp. 57–58, 60–61; Boas, Archaeology of the Military Orders, p. 199; Christopher Marshall, Warfare in The Latin East (Cambridge, 1992), pp. 112–113.

324 Asbridge, The Creation of the Principality of Antioch, p. 61.

325 See events of 1100 in: Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat, p. 246.

326 Albert of Aachen, Historia Ierosolimitana, 9: 28. See: Morton, The Crusader States, p. 24.

327 Fulcher of Chartres, A History of The Expedition, 3, 10: 3. William of Tyre, 1, 12: 16.

328 The Latin kingdom, p. 283.

329 See: Baybars al-Manṣūrī, Zubdat al-fikra fī tārīkh al-hijra (Riyadh, 1975), vol. 9, pp. 194–195; Al-Qalqashandī, ṣubḤ al-Aʿshá. 14, pp. 49, 56.

330 Crusader Castles, pp. 127–143.

331 ‘Castles and Frontiers in the Latin East’, in: K. Stringer and A. Jotischky (eds.), Norman Expansion: Connections, Continuities and Contrasts (Farnham, 2013), pp. 238–239.

332 Ibn al-ʿAdīm mentioned that the Franks capture of Athārib and their restrictions on the western countryside of Aleppo led to a scarcity of agricultural products in Aleppo markets, and forced its ruler Ridwan in 1110 to distribute waste lands to the people for reclamation and cultivation, in exchange for low prices. Zubdat al-Halab, pp. 252–253. Also: Al-Tabbakh al-Halabi, 1, p. 364.

333 See: Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl Tārīkh Dimashq, 219; SibṬ ibn al-Jawzī, Mir’at al-Zamān, 20, p. 213.

334 Cahen, Orient et Occident, p. 169; Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, p. 67; idem, ‘Colonization activities in the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem’, Revue belge de philologie et d’histoire 29/4 (1951), 1063–1118; Deschamps, Les châteaux, pp. 91–100 ff; Balard, Croisades et Orient Latin, pp. 132–137; Armstrong, Holy War, p. 186; Tibble, The Crusader Strategy, p. 145, 167–175.

335 Archaeology of the Military Orders, pp. 100–101. Cf. Sinibaldi, ‘The Crusader Lordship’, p. 148.

336 See: Smail, Crusading Warfare, p. 147.

337 See: J. Haldon, ‘Roads and communications in the Byzantine Empire: wagons, horses, and supplies’, J. Pryor (ed.), Logistics of Warfare in the Age of the Crusades (London, 2006), 144–145.

338 Haldon, ‘Roads and communications’, p. 148. See: J. Teall, ‘The Grain Supply of the Byzantine Empire, 330–1025’, Dumbarton Oaks Papers 13 (1959), 87–139 esp. 117–132.

339 Haldon, ‘Roads and communications’, pp. 148–149.

340 See: Morton, The Crusader States, pp. 94–95; Tibble, The Crusader Strategy, pp. 69–70.

341 See: Tibble, The Crusader Strategy, pp. 69–74.

342 Tibble, The Crusader Strategy, p. 83. See: Morton, The Crusader States, pp. 97–98.

343 Tibble, The Crusader Strategy, pp. 69, 83.

344 See: Khitat al sham, 1, p. 280.

345 The Crusades, p. 154.

346 Frankish Rural Settlement, pp. 19, 32–33; The Crusader Castles, p. 169.

347 The Crusader Castles, pp. 176–177.

348 Ellenblum, Crusader Castles, pp. 110–112 ff. See: R. Smail, ‘Crusaders castles of the twelfth century’, The Cambridge Historical Journal 10/2 (1951), 133–149 esp. 143–144; idem, Crusading Warfare, pp. 60–61, 206–207; idem, The crusaders in Syria (New York, 1974), pp. 90–92.

349 See: Crowly, The Impact of the Franks, pp. 59–60.

350 De constructione castri Saphet, pp 190–198.

351 Masālik al-Abṣār, 3, p. 372.

352 Benvenisti, The Crusaders in the Holy Land, pp. 214–215. Cf. Mayer, The Crusades, p. 155.

353 De constructione castri Saphet, pp 190–198 esp. 196–197. Mayer, The Crusades, pp. 154–155; Molin, Unknown Crusader Castles, p. 286.

354 It is likely that Safed castle supplied the warehouses that the Franks later built in Manueth in the Upper Galilee, near Wadi al-Qurain, where crops were collected and sent to Jerusalem. See: Benvenisti, ‘Bovaria-Babriyya’, p. 135; idem, The Crusaders, pp. 331, 333.

355 William of Tyre, History of Deeds, 1, 11: 5; Jacques de Vitry, Histoire des croisades, p. 79.

356 Al-Rehla, pp. 273–274.

357 Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl, p. 224; Ibn al-ʾAthīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 251. For more details: Smail, Crusading Warfare, pp. 222–223.

358 William of Tyre, A History of Deeds, 2, 18: 12.

359 Castles of the Crusaders, pp. 11, 45–46. Cf. Benvenisti, The Crusaders, pp. 147, 201–202.

360 See: Smail, Crusading Warfare, pp. 61–62, 207. See the fortresses and crops in: Table 4.

361 Fulcher of Chartres, 2, 55: 1; Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī, Mu’jam al-Buldān, 3, p. 370.

362 ‘The wedge between Egypt and Syra: the Crusader castle of Montreal’, Medieval Warfare 7/4 (2017), 40.

363 Historia Ierosolimitana, 12: 21

364 Grousset, L’épopée, p. 97; Cahen, Orient et Occident, p. 107; Philips, ‘The Latin East’, 113–114.

365 Jacques de Vitry, Histoire des croisades, p. 88.

366 See: Ellenblum, Crusader Castles, pp. 105–110.

367 Prawer, The Latin Kingdom, pp. 131, 282–283; Mayer, The Crusades, p. 71; idem, ‘The Crusader lordship of Kerak and Shobak: some preliminary remarks’, Studies in the History and Archaeology of Jordan 3 (1987), 199; Tibble, The Crusader Armies, pp. 173–176. See: M. Sinibaldi, ‘Karak Castle in the lordship of Transjordan: observations on the chronology of the Crusader-period fortress’, in: P. Edbury, D. Pringle, and B. Major (eds), Bridge of Civilisations. The Near East and Europe c.1100–1300 (Oxford, 2019), 97-114.

368 William of Tyre, History of Deeds, 1, 11: 26. Cf. Jacques de Vitry, Histoire des croisade, p. 66.

369 Nuzhat al-mushtāq, 1, p. 357. Cf. Al-Muqaddasī, Ahsan al-taqāsīm, p. 178.

370 The Crusader States, p. 25.

371 Crowley, The Impact of the Franks, pp. 43–44.

372 See: The Capture of Damietta, ca. 1217–1222, in: J. Bird, E. Peters, and J. M. Powell (eds.), Crusade and Christendom: Annotated Documents in Translation from Innocent III to the Fall of Acre, 1187–1291 (Philadelphia, 2013), p. 185.

373 See the events of the years 1109 and 1112, in: Albert of Achaean, 10: 36, p. 753; Ibn al-ʾAthīr, Al-Kāmil, 9, p. 133; al-Dhahabi, Duwal al-Islam, 2, p. 7; Ibn al-Qalānisī, Dhayl Tārīkh Dimashq, p. 183. Also: El Tahawi, Al’iiqtisad al Salibi, pp. 136–140

374 Sinibaldi, ‘The Crusader Lordship of Transjordan’, p. 150.

375 See: R. Brown, ‘A 12th century Sequence from southern Transjordan Crusader and Ayyubid occupation at al-Wu’ayra, Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan 41 (1987), 267–288; M. Bini and S. Bertocci, ‘The Survey of Al-Wu’aira: A Contribution to the Knowledge of the Crusader Castles in Jordan’, Ibid 41 (1997), 403– 414; Sinibaldi, Settlement in Crusader Transjordan, pp. 114–116.

376 See: ‘The Crusader Lordship of Transjordan’, pp. 139–142; Sinibaldi, ‘Settlement in the Petra region’, pp. 82–86 ff. Cf. G. Vannini and A. Desideri, ‘Archaeological research on Medieval Petra: a preliminary report’, Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan 39 (1995), 509–540.

377 See: Ibn Jubayr, Al-Rehla, p. 274. Prawer calls it the Carates tax: Latin Kingdom, p. 404.

378 See: Fulcher of Chartres, A History of The Expedition, 3, 45: 1. Also: Smail, Crusading Warfare, p. 61; Molin, Unknown Crusader Castles, p. 281.

379 Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdat al-Halab, p. 268. Cf. Al-Azimi, Tārīkh, p. 368.

380 Qasim, ‘Bʼad mazahir alhayaat al iajtimaeiat ‘, p. 381; Muhammed Awad, Tarikh al Hurub al Salibiat (Cairo, 2001), p. 138.

381 Deschamps, Les châteaux des Croisés, p. 85; Cahen, La Syrie du nord, p. 260.

382 The Latin Kingdom, pp. 352–354, 391–397. Cf. El Sayed, Al ialaqat al’iiqtisadiat, p. 16.

Figure 0

Table 1. The important crops that the Franks of Edessa reaped from the borders of Aleppo and the tax value of some villages

Figure 1

Table 2. The most important crops that the principality of Antioch benefited from the Islamic countryside

Figure 2

Table 3. The important crops that the principality of Tripoli benefited from the Islamic countryside

Figure 3

Table 4. The important crops that the Kingdom of Jerusalem benefited from the Damascus rural suburbs