Following the example of the wise custom of the Ancients, who were at pains to record their deeds through the adornment of writing, so that they did not escape the notice of posterity, I have decided to give a simple account of the many different events that took place on the seaborne journey of the pilgrims who were heading to Jerusalem.
Thus in the year from the Incarnation of the Lord 1187, after the land of promise was destroyed by Saladin, King of Egypt, with its cities captured and its inhabitants slain or prisoners, the trumpet of preaching along with an indulgence issued by Apostolic authority spread through Christian lands and moved a huge number of people to remedy this wretched disaster. Among these, it was pleasing to some people to undertake the forthcoming path of their pilgrimage2 across the vast wastes of the sea in order to avenge this offence.
Leaving Bremen with eleven ships, well provided with warriors, arms and provisions, we set off on our journey from Blexen at the ninth hour on 22 April in the year from the Lord’s Incarnation 1189. But the next day we left one ship [aground] on a sandbank to follow after us. However, we made sail and on 24 April arrived in England at a place called Lowestoft. The following day we sailed past the Thames in a storm and carelessly entering the port of Sandwich we lost three of our ships which ran onto the sandbanks, the men and equipment being saved.3 Two of these ships were utterly destroyed, the third was repaired.
We made a delay of twenty-two days there, during which time we salvaged the ship that had been lost. People joined us here and elsewhere, but for various reasons some went on ahead while others followed later. We purchased a ship in London to replace a vessel that had been lost, and, after fitting it out, we set off from the port of Sandwich on 19 May and came to Winchelsea; but we were then delayed by contrary winds and it was only on the fourth day that we arrived at the harbour of Yarmouth.4 There we found some of our companions, and the next morning we left England and set off towards Brittany, but, with the wind dropping and sometimes blowing in the wrong direction, we bobbed up and down at sea for six days. On the sixth day a stormy wind blew us off course and forced us to sail to a little island inhabited by poor Bretons, which is called Belle Ile by the French and Wechele by the Bretons. Within those six days, we celebrated Pentecost at sea with devotion and more than usually solemn masses.5
We spent eight days next to this same island, and on the ninth day when the wind was strong enough we made sail and continued until nightfall. We then lowered our sails, to avoid carelessly running aground if land should appear. The ships were tossed by the force of the winds all night long. It should be noted that we were going the right way, passing Saint-Mathieu, which is a peninsula of Brittany, stretching out into the sea,6 and we passed through heavy seas because of the violence of the winds, until we met the pilots for the entry into La Rochelle.7 Let it be known also that we sailed round both coasts of Brittany, [a land] which has nine bishoprics, in three of which they use the Breton language, which is common to no other people, while the rest share the speech of the Gauls. Brittany is part of the kingdom of the French, and borders Anjou and Poitou.
Remaining for one day at La Rochelle, at dawn we unfurled our sails and set out on the waves, but, with the winds proving variable and taking us in different directions, we passed nine days tossing on the deep. Nor ought one to omit that during one night when there was dreadful thunder and lightning, at the height of our ordeal many of our company saw two candles burning for a long time.8 Furthermore, one should add that a huge multitude of fish, six or seven feet long and resembling sturgeon, very often passed our ships at high speed, with all their bodies out of the water.9 On the ninth day we entered harbour, near a castle of the King of Galicia called Gozón and the town of Avilés.10 It should be noted that during the aforesaid nine days we left Gascony, the kingdom of the Aragonese, the kingdom of the Navarrese and the kingdom of Spain on our left-hand side, and we were now in the kingdom of Galicia. It should be remembered that there are five kingdoms of the Spanish, namely those of the Aragonese, of the Navarrese, and of those people who are specifically called the ‘Spanish’, of which the capital is at Toledo, as well as those of the inhabitants of Galicia and Portugal.11 The sea surrounds these kingdoms on every side except one; all of them are bounded by the Breton sea through which we came, and they have frontiers facing the Saracens, who live on the side away from the sea; and thus those who wish to go to the furthest of these, that is the kingdom of the Portuguese, must cross through all of them.
On the tenth day, leaving the ships in harbour, we travelled to San Salvador, a city that lies six leagues from the port. There we found a church filled with many things worthy of great veneration and relics of the saints, which at the time of … persecution12 were translated through fear of the enemy from Jerusalem to Africa, then to Hispalis, which is now called Seville, from Hispalis to Toledo, and from Toledo to Oviedo, which is now called by the name of San Salvador. Note that we have seen nothing on the coast of Galicia except steep cliffs, the whole region is very mountainous, and therefore infertile and unsuitable for vines. Chickpeas are the main crop.
On the eleventh day, we returned to our ships, and at dawn on the thirteenth day we put to sea once again. On the fourteenth, which was the vigil of St John the Baptist,13 and on the feast itself a strong wind filled our sails, and on the evening of that holy day we arrived at the harbour of the Tambre, which is a river flowing through Galicia. There we left our ships and went back on a long day’s journey to the church of St James, which we had now passed beyond.14 What with going there and returning, and a delay in harbour waiting for a wind, we passed some eight days.
We boarded ship around midday on the Octave of St John, and at noon the next day we saw Portugal close by.15 Then with a favourable wind blowing we entered the port of Lisbon at dawn on the third day. This port is at the mouth of the Tagus, which flows from Toledo and enters the sea there. The river is as wide as the Elbe near Stade. Note that near Lisbon, three of our miles away, is a castle called Sintra, where mares conceive from the wind. The horses that are born are extraordinarily speedy, but live for no more than eight years.16 Lisbon, which is large and very rich, was captured by our pilgrims forty-four years ago, along with the castles round about, and made subject to the rule of the King of Portugal. That region is very fertile and healthy, surrounded by hills but well furnished with valleys.
Here we found forty-four ships, and we had eleven. The ships from our empire and from Flanders had arrived some four or five weeks before us, and on their voyage beyond Lisbon they had stormed a fortified town named Alvor, subject to the lordship of Silves, and we were reliably informed that, sparing neither age nor sex, they slew some 5,600 people.17 Galleys from Lisbon accompanied them until they reached the Straits [of Gibraltar] and then they returned. They informed us that they were making a good voyage, and they brought back some captive Saracens. However, we were recruited to join in besieging Silves by the request of the King of Portugal, who was advancing upon it with a large army.18 We remained in harbour for eleven days, with thirty-six great ships, and one galley from Tuy, a town in Galicia, which had joined up with our squadron, along with many ships from Lisbon. We set out around Vespers on the eleventh day, and sailed continuously, but slowly, for three days and nights. On the afternoon of the third day we saw the town of Alvor, which our men had captured and destroyed, overlooking the sea, as well as other abandoned places whose inhabitants had been killed at Alvor. Not far from there we entered the harbour of Silves, finding the land there ideal for agriculture. All the inhabitants, however, fled to Silves. Silves lies about one German mile from the sea by land, but by river the way is more winding and longer.19
Our men fanned out through the lands of the enemy with great enthusiasm but little care, and hence two men from Bremen who had foolishly become separated from the others were slain by ten Saracen cavalrymen, who were the only ones we saw in all that land. They were carried back to where the fleet lay, and they were buried there by our men. Our ships were anchored in the estuary, not far from the sea, and our men burned the villages [nearby] and brought back what little plunder they found. That night we sent a sagittina from Lisbon to the leader of the Portuguese forces, who had gone before us by land, and whose camp then lay some four miles away from us.20 The following day a ship with pilgrims from Brittany joined us. The leader of the Portuguese troops arrived around Vespers of the same day with a small escort, having left his army in camp. After we had discussed what we should do, it was his wish that we should move on to capture Dardea, for he had little hope of us taking Silves, since this was the capital of the kingdom and was extremely strong.21 We, however, preferred to trust faithfully in the Lord, and we decided to undertake the more important operation, with which decision he concurred. The next day we sailed our ships towards the city, and fixed our anchors in a place from which we could see it, but the shallowness of the water prevented us going further. The leader of the army took station ahead of us with his men and with the galleys that had accompanied us. That night they lit many torches in the city, and we did the same. Our people were very joyful, and not deterred even though they saw that the place was extremely strongly fortified. At dawn on the following day we armed ourselves and approached the city with skiffs, and we pitched camp so that it was well within double bowshot of the wall.
The situation of Silves is as follows. In size it is not very different from Goslar, but it had many more houses and some very fine mansions. It is surrounded with walls and ditches, with not even a little hut to be found outside the walls. Within it there were four sets of fortifications. The first of these was a large town in the valley, which they call arrabalde.22 The city on the hill, which they call al-medina, has another fortress extending into the valley, descending to the watercourse and to the river, which is called the Arade (another river flows into this called the Odelouca), and there are four towers above the watercourse, to ensure that the upper town is well supplied with water, and this fortification is called the couraça.23 The entry by the gates was so crooked and twisting that it was easier to cross the wall than to enter through the doorway. Under the first castle there was what they called the alcazar. There was a great tower in the arrabalde, and this guarded the road to the al-medina, which has a wall with overhead cover (muro testudinato); thus from it one can see what is going on outside the wall of the al-medina. Those attacking the wall can be shot at from the rear from the tower, and vice versa. This is called the albarrana.24 It should be noted that these names are generic, and not proper names; for wherever there are similar arrangements in a city of that land, whether by the Christians or by the pagans, they have these names. The Saracens living in Spain are called Andelucians, while those in Africa are the Mucimiti or Maximiti or the Moedini, while those who are in Morocco are the Moravidi.25 It should also be noted that in the wall of each fortress were towers that were so close to each other that a stone could easily be thrown from one turret to a third. In various places the towers were twice as close [as elsewhere].
As soon as we arrived on that day, some ten horsemen rode out of the city and galloped about near the walls, as if to provoke our people, who paid no attention to the orders of our leaders and rashly charged at them, but they were attacked by darts and stones from the wall. They both inflicted and suffered wounds, and with the fortunes of war in doubt they retreated. However, we pitched our tents closer [to the wall] and took a decision that we would make an attack in the morning, preparing ladders to scale the walls. At dawn therefore mass was solemnly celebrated, and the people most devoutly took communion, and then having armed themselves everyone advanced to the wall with the ladders, carrying them over the moat, paying no attention to the depth of the water, and came to the wall. The men who were in the bastions threw rocks for a little while, but then suddenly with the aid of God, ‘who saves those who trust in Him’,26 they turned tail and fled up to the fortifications above. Our men, having set up their ladders there, pursued them. But since they had fled in good time few were killed, while the others took refuge in the fortress, for while our men were in armour they lacked this, and therefore easily escaped. However, many were suffocated in the gateway because of their great haste [to escape]. Their bodies were thrown outside the wall, for they were unwilling to bury them within the walls – I don’t know why. We were then also informed that their king had had the men who had begun the flight beheaded. So therefore we took possession of the lower town, which our men had attacked from one side and the Portuguese from the other, and for [the rest of] that day and night we remained quietly in the city.
At dawn the next day, which was the feast of Mary Magdalene,27 mass was said and communion taken, and our men armed themselves and left the city, leaving the galley crewmen within. Carrying ladders with them, they made an attack on the upper city, the enemy’s strongest point, sited on the mountain and surrounded by a deep and steep-sided ditch. Our men pressed on and after lengthy efforts managed to set up the ladders, but they were hampered by the depth of the ditch and driven back by incessant missile fire, although many of those in the bastions were wounded by the arrows showered on them by our men. The hopes of the latter were thus frustrated and they were therefore very upset. Without taking proper advice, they set fire to the parts of the town they had captured, insofar as they were able to do this since the building materials used were such that, when one house was ablaze, the flames did not spread to others, for they had roofs of tile, walls of clay covered with plaster, and little wood. We [also] set fire to five galleys and other vessels that had been taken within the walls for fear of the enemy, and [then] returned to the previous camp.
But that same day, after we had taken heart and our warlike resolution returned, we pitched our camp next to the wall of the captured part of the city. Over the next few days we built wooden machines, towers, ladders and all sorts of devices to take the city. Meanwhile, too, the army of the Portuguese that was taking part in the siege of the city with us grew stronger. The King of Portugal arrived on the Octave of Mary Magdalene,28 and his army followed slowly behind with its baggage. The next day, which was a Sunday, the Saracens hanged three Christians whom they had previously captured by the feet from the tower called the albarrana in sight of our men and struck at them with swords and lances until they were dead. They did this because two days earlier some Englishmen in our ranks had slain a Saracen before the eyes of those who were besieged. We sorrowfully lamented the death of our men, but were by this roused to wage war more fiercely. The Portuguese army was [further] strengthened at this time, and the city was blockaded on every side. Nor did we slacken our efforts in any way, [being busy] either making siege equipment, or shooting and being shot at by arrows or with machines.
At dawn on the Sunday that was the feast of Sixtus, Felicissimus and Agapetus,29 we from the German kingdom pushed a siege engine, which we call a battering ram, forward to the walls of the couraça, between two towers, so that we might dig a hole through the wall. This siege engine was most stoutly built, constructed with great beams, its roof made from ships’ rudders, and covered with felt, earth and plaster. However, the Saracens threw down from above a huge wad of linen, and oil and fire, and burned up the engine, and they were able to do this especially since it was heavy and could not easily be pulled backwards. Then the pagans rejoiced that day and our own men were cast down. The curse of dissension also arose, with some, especially the Flemings, wanting to withdraw, while others wished to hold those parts of the city that had been captured. The following day our siege engine hit these same towers so many hard blows that one of them fell down and lay partly in ruins. Meanwhile two engines of the king, albeit small ones, greatly harmed the people within the city. The next night a certain Moor came out, bringing with him two standards that they had within. At dawn the next day we rejoiced, for the Moor had pledged to surrender the city, specifically once the couraça was captured. On the vigil of St Lawrence,30 a certain knight from Galicia who had come with us as the pilot of one of our ships went to that part of the wall that had been damaged by our machine and, despite the danger from the defenders of the tower, pulled out a cornerstone and [then] returned. Encouraged by such bravery, our men set to work undermining the tower, and what is wonderful to say is that, although the Saracens still manned it above, they were not hindered either by the rubble [falling] from the structure or by the hail of arrows. They stayed busily digging away at it until Vespers, but when night fell they grew very afraid and withdrew, thinking that the Saracens, whom they heard nearby, were tunnelling through the wall towards them. The next morning they set fire to the beams that had supported the tunnel and brought down part of the tower. Then, once the fire had gone out and they had regained their courage, they once again began to tunnel, wishing to undermine the stonework of that tower on each side by the same method. Fires were once again lit, and such a large part of the tower then collapsed that our men placed a ladder there and climbed one by one up to the ramparts. A host of the enemy manned these battlements, but the Lord gave strength to our men and struck fear into them, so that they all fled as one, while the king and his men who were looking on from the other side of the hill were overjoyed and gave voice to their great admiration of our people. Thus through the excellence of the Mother of God rather than our own valour, the Saracens abandoned four very strong towers and the ramparts [around them]. They shot many crossbow bolts and threw spears [at us], but they slowly withdrew to the al-medina along the wall by which they had safe passage from each side of the couraça. After enough of our men had gained entry, they forced the pagans to flee to the upper fortress. The wall was then destroyed in two places and the rubble removed, and the well on which the pagans were relying was filled up with stones and earth and [thus] blocked. So that evening our men, although exhausted and some of them wounded, returned rejoicing together to their camp.
The next day we began to dig in the ground in two places to make a tunnel towards the wall of the al-medina and to undermine it. Our men toiled on that work through that day and the following night, but on the third day31 the Saracens made a sortie and destroyed the houses under which they were digging. The fire spread to the beams by which the tunnel was supported and our men fled from the diggings, but many of the enemy received mortal wounds from our archers, so the effort expended on our work was amply compensated by their losses. Meanwhile the Flemings began to tunnel through the wall of the captured part of the city, which however led up to one of the towers of the al-medina, so that through this tunnel in the wall one might approach the tower; but the Saracens became aware of this and drove them from the works during the night. They demolished [part of?] the wall and made a clear space between it and the tower. What had not been done during the night, they finished the next day, to ensure that they could not be harmed in this way.
It should be noted that many people now fled to us at various times from the fortress, in order to save their lives; and to encourage others to leave too we did not harm them in any way. On the vigil of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary,32 the Saracens attacked us and our men in that sector were drawn up ready for battle when one of the Saracens jumped off the wall and fled to our men. He was extremely thirsty and begged for water, and was so parched that he buried almost his whole face in it in his eagerness to drink. He told us that a great many of the enemy were dying of thirst, for they had only a little water in their wells up there, and it was very salty.
On the day after the Octave of St Lawrence,33 our entire army armed itself and approached the wall on every side, carrying ladders, and for a long time they struggled as hard as they could to raise these, but were driven back by a storm of heavy objects thrown down, which dashed our hopes. However, a number of the enemy were killed or wounded by our archers. Some of our men started to fill up the ditch on the northern side of the al-medina with boughs, but fire was hurled down from above and they were burned up. Nor is it to be wondered if the climb up to the wall was difficult for on one side was the foot of the mountain and a vast ditch, while on the other the packed houses made the way narrow. This setback struck fear into the Portuguese, especially since they lacked food for themselves and fodder for their horses, and so they started to ask both the king and us for permission to withdraw. The king indeed seemed ready to depart; but our men took a collective decision to continue the attack on the enemies of Christ, and informed the king of this. The king took counsel and valiantly agreed to remain with them; and so with spirits once again restored we strove more energetically to capture the city.34
Four siege engines were set up on the northern side, one of ours and three of the king’s, and the enemy built four of their own to oppose our four. Meanwhile we also began to dig underground, but [began] a long way from the fortress, to avoid our work being sabotaged as previously. The pagans realised this, and opening their gates they made a sortie to destroy the tunnel, but our men hastened forward and suffering serious losses on both flanks the enemy retreated. They [then] made a second sortie at dawn on the Octave of the Assumption.35 This time our men failed to stop them and they took station outside the walls and they stamped the ground to find out if it sounded hollow, since they were afraid that the tunnel had already reached the wall, although in fact it was still quite a long way away. Some of them were also digging in an effort to find the tunnel that way. A few of our men took up arms to drive them back, and making an attack on them they slew some, while many fell to our missiles. Our men pressed on right up to the entrance gate, so that if all our men had been in arms and ready they would easily have forced a way in through the gate. However, our men returned rejoicing at their victory.
A great deal of trouble and dispute arose on the vigil of St Bartholomew.36 The Portuguese king and his men proposed an immediate withdrawal, but our men managed to secure, with difficulty, that he remained for another four days. Meanwhile our men began to tunnel from a pit where grain was stored, which was in soft ground near the wall. The king was pleased with this tunnel, and on the feast of St Bartholomew this man who had been of a mind to withdraw once again began to work with a resolute heart. Work on the tunnel was thus increased, but when our men were getting close to the wall the Saracens themselves breached the wall to send a tunnel out towards ours; when they encountered our men they fought a long battle with them. They eventually forced our men to retreat with fire flooding [through the tunnel], the materials for which they had [earlier] prepared;37 but, albeit with difficulty, the entrance into our tunnel was blocked. Nevertheless, they made a hole between our tunnel and the wall, and [thus] prevented our men getting close to the wall. They also dug another long trench inside the wall and next to it, since they believed that we intended to use the tunnel to gain entrance to them under the wall – the plan was actually to undermine the wall. We were kept busy digging for a long time, and every day there was fighting in the tunnel with the pagans, who were similarly trying in all sorts of ways to hinder our undertaking. Finally, on St Giles’s Day the men of the king shouted up to those on the wall, offering the chance to negotiate the city’s surrender.38 Many Saracens also then deserted and came over to us. The tunnel had struck fear into them and they said that they were suffering from thirst.
As a result the pagans met with the king, to negotiate a surrender of the city and its citadel and that they might leave in safety with their goods. The king strove to get the pilgrims to agree to this, but he did not succeed. He promised ten thousand gold coins for their consent, and then twenty thousand, which we accepted; but [then] on account of the delay that there would be in handing this over thereafter, since it would have had to have been brought from his own land, we refused. Then we agreed that the Saracens might leave, each with one garment, and we would have all their movable property and the king the city. The pagans were forced to accept this agreement, since they were weak from thirst and the tunnels were bringing them ever closer to defeat, for the great tower that they called Burge Marie, that is ‘the tower of Mary’, was in ruins thanks to the tunnel, which was now close to the wall.
On 3 September the lord of the city, named Albainus,39 came out, he alone riding, with the rest of his men following on foot; however, our people most shamefully plundered some of them, in defiance of the treaty, and beat them. As a result there was bad feeling between the king and our people. As night fell we closed the gate to prevent more pagans leaving, and our people entered from the other side, although a few had earlier gone in by this main gate, and they were with the pagans throughout the night, and the pagans were shut in their houses. Some indeed were tortured to make them reveal where their money was, in defiance of the treaty. The next morning they were led out more kindly from the three gates, and then we saw for the first time how weak they were, for they were extremely thin and could barely walk. Many were crawling; others were helped by our men, while some were lying in the squares, either dead or barely alive, and there was an awful smell from the bodies of both men and of brute animals in the city.
Some Christian prisoners were brought out, hardly breathing: they told us that in the previous four days each of them had only had as much water as could be held in the head of a sheep, and some less than that, and nobody had been given water at all unless they were willing to fight, and even then not much – they had shared this with their wives and children. Nor had fresh bread been made because of the lack of water; they had been eating figs – hence most of the corn was still in store. At night the prisoners had lain naked on the cold flagstones in an attempt to generate moisture and thus live. The women and children had eaten the damp earth. And one should note that before we arrived there had been four hundred and fifty prisoners at Silves, and we found barely two hundred alive.
When the city was surrendered there were some 15,800 inhabitants of both sexes. From the day when the siege was begun until the day on which the city was captured six weeks and three days had passed.40 Furthermore Silves was more strongly fortified than Lisbon, ten times richer and had grander buildings. The Portuguese indeed claimed that there was no more strongly fortified city in all Spain, and none so troublesome to the Christians.
One should also know that all the while the siege was going on the Portuguese neither worked nor fought, but poured scorn upon us, saying that we were working in vain and that the fortress was impregnable. They also encouraged the king to withdraw and tried in all sorts of ways to persuade us to abandon the siege. Indeed the majority of our people became discouraged and wanted to leave, but God mercifully and wonderfully kept us there for so happy an outcome. When we first arrived our army was 3,500 strong, or a few less, composed of men of every sort and age.41 The king’s forces had a large number of cavalry, infantry and galley crewmen, and also with him were religious knights of three types: the Templars, Jerusalemite knights who carry swords on belts, marry wives, and wage constant war against the Saracens, living however according to the Rule.42 Then there were the knights from the Cistercian Order, who have this indulgence: that they may eat meat three times a week, but only once a day and one dish while they are in their house, but while on a military expedition they may eat like other men. Their headquarters are at Calatrava in the kingdom of Castile and at Evora in the kingdom of Portugal, but Calatrava is the mother house and Evora the daughter.43 Some of those from Jerusalem were from the Temple, some from the Holy Sepulchre and some from the Hospital; and each has an income in that land.44
Once the city was captured only we Franks held it, and nobody else was allowed entry. All the movable property belonged to us, as in our original agreement, but since the Portuguese were incessantly badgering us about the division we gave part to them, to be allocated according to the judgement of the king. Once the city was taken, the king then strove to secure the grain from us for his share, this being more abundant and of greater value than anything else. Although we had forbidden anything to be taken out of the city, so that we could divide up the booty inside, some of our men, and particularly the Flemings, secretly sold wheat outside the walls to the Portuguese. The king was greatly angered by this – indeed he claimed that it would have been better not to have captured the city than to lose it through lack of bread; and in the commotion our men carried off the plunder before the division between the Portuguese and ourselves was made, acting without the permission of our leaders and against the terms of the agreement. Hence, to avoid the king’s threats escalating into damaging disputes, we surrendered the city to him while it was still full of wealth, requesting him, as was proper for his royal majesty, to share it with us, having consideration both for our hard work and for our losses. The king, however, took it all for himself and distributed nothing to us. Thus the pilgrims who had been so badly treated took their leave of him in a less than friendly fashion. Moreover, before the city was captured he had, on our urging, vowed the tenth part of all its land to the Holy Sepulchre, in order to compensate the latter through this gift for our delay in serving it; but after the taking of the city he did not fulfil his vow.45
On the Vigil of the Virgin Mary we took ship, and slowly went [downriver] towards the sea.46 The king remained there for six days arranging matters, garrisoning the city with many knights and appointing the leader of his troops [as governor], then he returned home. We made some delay at the port, both for the division of the spoils and to repair two of our ships that had been damaged. Meanwhile the prince of the royal forces appointed a Flemish cleric to the bishopric of Silves, and some of the Flemings remained there with him.47 He also requested, through the bishop, that the pilgrims accompany him to go to besiege a town one day’s march away, which both pagans and Christians called St Maria de Faro, but he was unable to secure general agreement to that.
These are the castles that Christianity recovered through the acquisition of Silves: Carphanabel,48 Lagos, Alvor, Portimão, Monchique, Montegudo, Carvoeiro, São Bartolomeu de Mussiene, and Paderne. All these were subject to the lordship of Silves, and we left them utterly deserted, although strong and well built. Some of their inhabitants had been slain by those who went before us at Alvor, but the greater part had fled to Silves. Albufeira surrendered itself to the king for fear of us: he brought what was of value there to Silves. Note that it is seven days’ journey from Silves to Lisbon, and between these two places there had been no safe habitation for either Christians or Saracens, because of the raids of both sides, but now the Christians were able to live safely in this most fortunate land for as long as they possessed Silves. And one should note that eight days after the surrender of the city the greater part of the wall that our men had undermined, and where the Saracens had fought with our miners, collapsed.
We left the port of Silves on the vigil of St Matthew,49 leaving St Maria de Faro and Tavira on our left. On St Maurice’s day50 we arrived at the Guadalquivir, which flows through Seville. Seville is a very large and most wealthy city, two days from the sea. Cordoba is located three days from Seville on this same river. It is … days from Silves to the River Guadiana,51 and there are these towns which have cultivatable land: Faro, Loulé, Cacela, Tavira, Mértola and Serpa, which we might have taken with ease, and we would have left that land, which was called the Algarve,52 entirely in the hands of the Christians, if the hatred of the king and the accursed haste of some of our men had not prevented this. From the Guadiana to Seville, two days’ journey, the land is totally infertile and deserted. There is however one town on the seacoast, named Saltes, but for fear of the pilgrims the inhabitants abandoned it and fled to the mountains, to a castle called Huelva, which is on the road leading inland from the Guadiana to Seville, on which there are also the strong fortresses of Niebla and Fealcazar.53 From Seville on the road towards the Straits are the towns of Jerez, Rota, Cadiz and Algeciras. From the Guadalquivir to Tarifa, which is the town next to the head of the Straits, it is a day and a half. On the right beyond the sea we left behind us Africa, a very good but flat land, [leading] to the Straits. The first town which occurs [there] is Fedala, which is opposite St Maria de Faro; then there is Labu,54 Anaphe,55 Salé, Azemmur, Masina, Arzila and Tangier, which is at the head of the Straits. Marrakesh, the metropolis of Africa, is in that flat land, but five days’ distance from the sea. From the head of the Straits towards the interior begin the high mountains, and that mountainous land is called Ghomāra or Barbary, and it continues to Mecca where Muhammad is buried.
It should be known that, suffering endless problems with the winds, we were tossed about at sea for a long time. We were finally forced by the violence of the winds to make land at Cadiz, for the wind was blowing very strongly from the east. The inhabitants had deserted the town after certain Saracens who had been besieged at Silves had come to them after the fall of the city, making them even more afraid of us. However, the prefect of the town brought presents to us, begging that we spare the place, and he promised that next day he would surrender to us twelve Christian captives and as much money as he could raise. On the appointed day he produced only four prisoners, and he seemed to be putting forward spurious reasons for the delay in releasing the others. Although our men allowed him to depart unharmed – this was on the feast of saints Cosmas and Damian56 – they then burned the houses, destroyed the walls, cut down the vines and fig trees, and that day they did everything they could to destroy the city.
Cadiz was an extremely wealthy town, inhabited only by merchants, sited on an island which is separated from the land by an arm of the al-Bahr sea. There is another small island, which is linked to the other by a narrow causeway in the sea leading to the town.57 The town had five forts, each free-standing, with walls and towers, and most pleasant dwelling places; and Saracens from both Africa and Spain customarily went there three times a year for the exchange of merchandise, since it was more or less in between the two.
The following night we set off, but no sooner were the sails unfurled than we were hindered by adverse winds, and as sailors customarily do we skilfully avoided the contrary wind by sailing in a different direction. Thus we crossed over to the southern shore of the Straits on the feast of St Michael.58 But since the greater part of the fleet was still struggling against the wind, we put in to Tarifa, anchored there and planned to attack the town. All those who were following did the same as we did. We saw many horsemen and infantry on shore who were ready to defend the coast, while the women fled to the mountains. Our men armed themselves and entered the skiffs. But since not everybody was agreed about the attack, and particularly since a great storm had blown up, while we were [still] waiting for three ships which were lagging a long way behind, we raised anchors and set sail on the evening of the same day, and went through the Straits, from which we could see high mountains on either side.
Opposite Tarifa on the other side of the sea is Cacir Mucemuthe, and between these two castles lies the usual crossing from Africa to Spain and vice versa. The Straits have a width of two of our miles and are six in length, so far as we were able to calculate.59 On the following day at the [eastern] end of the Straits we left behind on our right a most opulent city of Barbary, to which all the Christian merchants come bringing their trade goods, and in particular the Genoese and Pisans frequent this place.60 The berths for the galleys of the King of Morocco are also there. Also, on the left at the narrowest point of the crossing we passed by Algeciras, a good town, and the castle of Gibraltar.
Then we entered the wide expanse of the sea, and we passed at speed on our left these cities: Malaga, Almuñécar, Almería, Cartagena, Alicante, Denia, Valencia, Burriana, Oropesa and Peñíscola. Near Betaienia is Murcia.61 And it should be known that this is a very long journey, which we only accomplished through five days and five nights of continuous and very fast sailing. It should be known that we saw nothing except very high cliffs.
On crossing the sea, one first encounters flat land, and then in a brief space of time Evora and the Ebro, a very broad and important river flowing into the sea, on which is sited Corduba [?] [and?] Tortosa,62 which lies towards the mountains, two of our miles from the sea. This city first became Christian when it was captured by the Pisans and Genoese, at the same time as Lisbon was captured by our men.63 Catalonia begins here, a most fertile land, distinguished by innumerable castles. Tarragona is a day’s journey away from Tortosa: it was once a great city but is now small, although it has an archiepiscopal see of great rank. Then, a further day away is Barcelona, which is the capital of the county of Catalonia, and from there it is six days to Narbonne, then two to Montpellier, and three more to Marseilles. And it should be noted that afterwards we saw in Marseilles and Montpellier merchants who had been in the cities of the Saracens as we passed by, and they saw us and said that all the Saracens were so frightened by our passage that they would not have defended any of their cities had we approached them, but were rather preparing themselves for flight.
1 Translated from Charles W. David, Narratio de Itinere Navali Peregrinorum Hierosolymam Tendentium et Silviam Capientium, in the Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 81 (1939), 610-42. The MS. has no title, and the various modern editors have each provided their own: this is the title devised by David. The notes below make extensive use of those by David.
2 David reads this phrase as peregrinationis incolarum, ‘the pilgrimage of the inhabitants’, whereas Chroust, Quellen, p. 179 emends this to peregrinationis suorum, which makes more sense, and which reading I have followed.
3 These sandbanks were the Goodwin Sands, a notorious hazard for sailing ships.
4 Yarmouth on the Isle of Wight, on the south side of the Solent; this would seem to have been on 24 May. Chroust (wrongly?) suggested Portchester rather than Winchelsea.
5 Pentecost fell on 28 May.
6 Pointe-Saint Mathieu, 20 km west of Brest; the fleet would have passed this before coming to Belle Ile, south of Quiberon Bay.
7 The translation of this last phrase is problematic: Chroust rendered it ‘when we were guided by two pilots on the entry into La Rochelle’, Quellen, p. 180, but David did not like this reading.
8 David suggests that this was St Elmo’s fire.
9 Clearly dolphins or porpoises.
10 They thus entered Luanco bay, west of Cap de Peñas, and some 20 km west of Gijon.
11 The five kingdoms are therefore Aragon, Navarre, Castile, Leon and Portugal.
12 There is a space in the manuscript here; David conjectured that the author had access to a written account of the Oviedo relics, and left a space for a word that he could not read.
13 23 June.
14 The Tambre estuary is to the south of Cape Finisterre. The port was presumably either Muros on the north side of the estuary or Noyas on the south side. From the former it was just over 40 km to Santiago de Compostella, from the latter somewhat less.
15 12 July.
16 Sintra is actually 17 miles (27 km) from Lisbon: the author clearly means the long German mile, to which he refers by name slightly later, equivalent to about four English miles. The legend about the mares of Sintra was also recounted by the earlier De Expugnatione Lyxbonensi, ed. C.W. David (New York 1936), pp. 92–3, and was ultimately derived from several classical sources.
17 Cf. Chronica Regia Coloniensis, p. 143.
18 Or perhaps, ‘who was preparing a large army’, depending on whether properantes should be emended to preparantes, as Chroust, Quellen, p. 182. The king was Sancho I, 1185–1211, the son of Afonso Henriques, the founder of the kingdom of Portugal. According to Ralph of Diceto, Opera Historica, ii.65–6, the king agreed with them that they might have whatever booty they gained at Silves, provided that they left the city itself to him, and the Portuguese contributed thirty-seven galleys and various pinnaces (see below) to the expedition.
19 Actually about 6½ miles (10 km) by road, and 7½ miles (12 km) if sailing up the River Arade.
20 A sagittina (pinnace?) was a small, fast craft; cf. Geoffrey Malaterra, De Rebus Gestis Rogerii Comitis Siciliae et Calabriae, ed. E. Pontieri (Rerum Italicarum Scriptores, 2nd ed., Bologna 1927–8), IV.2, p. 86, where at the siege of Syracuse in 1085 Count Roger sent out ‘a very swift sagita’ to reconnoitre the enemy’s fleet. This vessel must have gone upriver, and perhaps up the tributary River Odelouca, to meet the Portuguese army.
21 More properly Silves was the provincial capital of the Algarve, though it had been the capital of a small independent kingdom a century or more earlier. Dardea has not been identified.
22 From the Arabic al-rabad (suburb).
23 ‘The breastwork.’
24 From the Arabic al-barrānīya, meaning an external tower or a watchtower.
25 Phonetic versions of the Arabic Masmūdah (the tribe within which the Almohad movement had begun): Muwahhidūn (followers of one God, the religious designation of the Almohads); and Almoravid.
26 Daniel 13:60.
27 22 July.
28 29 July.
29 6 August.
30 9 August.
31 12 August.
32 14 August.
33 18 August.
34 The manuscript is damaged at this point. The reading resumptis animis is a conjecture of David, omitted by Chroust, Quellen, p. 188.
35 22 August.
36 23 August.
37 Does the phrase igneo copioso fluvio, literally ‘with a copious fiery flood’, suggest that the Muslims were using ‘Greek fire’ (naptha), the medieval version of napalm?
38 1 September.
39 David, p. 628n, on the basis of an Arabic source, identifies him as Aisa ben Abu Hafs, who was the son of one of the early disciples of Ibn Tūmart, the founder of the Almohad sect.
40 21 July–3 September. The narrator was here entirely correct.
41 A similar number is given by Ralph of Diceto, Opera, ii.66, and as David points out, p. 630n, is entirely credible. With 55 ships, it would give an average of 64 men per vessel.
42 The reference was to Templar confratres, rather than full brothers of the order; for these The Rule of the Templars, translated J.M. Upton-Ward (Woodbridge 1992), p. 36, c. 69.
43 The indulgence with regard to eating meat, on Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays, was granted by Alexander III in his bull confirming the foundation of the Order of Calatrava in September 1164, Patrologia Latina 200, cols. 310–12 no. 273, addressed to ‘the brothers of the Order of Calatrava living according to the Rule of the Cistercians’. For the role of the Cistercians in the creation of the order, see especially Joseph O’Callaghan, ‘The affiliation of the Order of Calatrava with the Order of Cîteaux’, Analecta Sacri Ordinis Cisterciencis 15 (1959), 161–93, especially 178–91 [reprinted in J. O’Callaghan, The Spanish Military Order of Calatrava and its Affiliates (London 1975)]. The suborder of Evora was later known as the Order of Avis.
44 The Holy Sepulchre never possessed a military order of its own, although it was often bracketed with the Templars and Hospitallers, as in the will of Alfonso I of Aragon in 1131 (for which Elena Lourie, ‘The will of Alfonso I, “el Batallador”, king of Aragon and Navarre: a reassessment’, Speculum 50 (1975), 635–51). The author would thus seem to have been correct in his earlier statement, that members of three military monastic orders were present: the Temple, the Hospital and the Order of Calatrava and its Portuguese subsidiary.
45 For the growing tensions between northern Crusaders and the Portuguese, Stephen Lay, ‘Miracles, martyrs and the cult of Henry the Crusader in Lisbon’, Portuguese Studies 24 (2008), 7–31, especially 22–9. Lay discusses this passage on pp. 22–3; my translation differs somewhat from his.
46 7 September.
47 According to Ralph of Diceto, Opera, ii.66, the main mosque of Silves was converted to become the cathedral, and dedicated to the BVM, on the feast of her nativity (8 September). Ralph confirms the appointment of the Fleming as bishop; subsequent documents show his name to have been Nicholas.
48 David, p. 633n, suggests that this name, otherwise unidentified, may refer to Cape St Vincent.
49 20 September.
50 22 September.
51 The numeral has been omitted in the manuscript.
52 From the Arabic al-Gharb, ‘the west’.
53 Not securely identified, but perhaps Aznalcázar, 24 km southwest of Seville.
54 Unidentified; perhaps the Wadi Sebu, a river that enters the Atlantic at al-Mahdīya, 28 km north of Rabat, but the sense suggests a town rather than a river.
55 Now Casablanca.
56 27 September.
57 Medieval Cadiz was on the island of Léon, with the smaller island later known as San Pedro at the southern end. Al-Bahr (‘the sea’) was the Arabic term for the Mediterranean, which was considered to begin at Cadiz.
58 29 September.
59 The author was once again using the long German mile, for which above note 16. Cacir Mucemuthe was the author’s phonetic version of Kasr Masmūda (al-Kasr al-Saghīr), which under the Almohads was the chief embarkation port for Spain.
60 This must be Ceuta.
61 The identification of Betaienia is questionable. David, p. 641n, mentioned two possibilities, neither of which he found very convincing, that it referred either to Beniajan, a village to the east of Murcia, or to the Wādi’l-abyad (‘the White River’) or River Segura, on which Murcia stands.
62 The reading Corduba is uncertain. The author was well aware that Cordoba was in southern Spain on the Guadalquivir. This may refer either, as David suggests, to an alternative name for Tortosa, or as Chroust, Quellen, p. 196, believed, the island of Buda at the mouth of the Ebro.
63 It was captured by the Genoese and Count Raymond Berenguer IV of Barcelona in December 1148. See Annali Genovesi di Caffaro e de’suoi continuatori, i, ed. L.T. Belgrano (Fonti per la storia d’Italia, Rome 1890), 86–9. Tortosa lies about 20 km from the mouth of the Ebro.