Crusading was meant to be a holy mission, but for many knights and soldiers, the lure of taverns, drink, and other temptations often proved irresistible. From brawls and brothels to drunken misunderstandings that turned deadly, the road to the Holy Land was paved with more than just faith and steel.
By Steve Tibble
Fighting on crusade was holy work – a form of extended armed pilgrimage. But however high-minded the principles, it was often difficult to keep the men out of pubs. And pubs brought consequences with them.
Particularly in the larger towns or cities, where there was rather more anonymity, a wide range of dubious pleasures were available in taverns and bars. Access to sex, either through a chance encounter or through prostitution, was an obvious one. Where sex workers and pimps were concerned, there was always potential to argue about money, however – a bill not paid, services not adequately provided, or men failing to rise to the occasion and blaming their companion.
Taverns and Temptation
Bibliothèque nationale de France MS Français 13096 fol. 51r
Pubs and sexual indiscretion went easily together. ‘After all, when she’s drunk,’ wrote James of Vitry, hopefully on the basis of little personal experience, ‘does Venus care about anything? She doesn’t know the difference between the head and crotch.’ It was all too easy to end up with the pox long before you arrived in the war zone of the Holy Land. And as commanders in all major wars before the invention of antibiotics knew to their cost, Cupid’s arrows could take as many men out of the front line as Turkish ones.
Even when you got to the crusader states, many of the local bars were operating as brothels. Usama ibn Munqidh, the semi-itinerant diplomatic ‘fixer’ and memoirist, had several entertaining tales to tell about the Frankish prostitutes he had encountered – or, more discreetly, that ‘a friend’ had told him about. Perhaps not surprisingly, and proving James of Vitry’s point, one of these stories involved a pub.
A ‘Friend’s’ House
Usama wrote of a time when he stayed in a ‘friend’s’ house in Nablus, whose home served as a lodging house for Muslims. This house ‘had windows that opened onto the road and, across from it on the other side of the road, there was a house belonging to a Frankish man who sold wine.’ Usama claimed to have seen a situation unfolding whereby the landlord came back unexpectedly from delivering some wine to a customer, only to discover his ‘wife’ in bed with another man.
The anecdote was used as an excuse to make a snide comment about the lack of control that the crusaders exerted over their women – ‘the Franks’, Usama wrote piously, know ‘nothing in the way of regard for honour or propriety’. But it is clear that what he really observed was the interaction between a prostitute, her client, and the landlord-pimp of the establishment.
Fear, Loathing, and Xenophobia
Abû Zayd at the tavern of Anah, from a copy of Maqâmât – BNF Arabe 3929, fol. 34v
It was easy to talk about the evils of visiting taverns, but stopping it in practice was far more difficult. And that was reflected in many of the more unruly incidents along the paths of crusaders on the way east. Alcohol, xenophobia, and religious intolerance all encouraged extraordinarily poor behaviour. The passage of the Second Crusade was no exception, particularly when the different Catholic armies from the West converged on the Christian, but Orthodox, lands of Byzantium.
Mutual suspicion was the norm. Language problems, inflamed by drunkenness and cultural suspicion, meant that arguments were quick to boil over – and the fact that so many of the participants were heavily armed soldiers meant that the consequences were disproportionately lethal.
‘Squalid and Fetid’
Constantinople itself was easy to characterise, particularly by the clerics who often wrote the chronicles, as the consummate destination for sin and temptation. ‘The city itself is squalid and fetid, and in many places, it is shrouded in permanent darkness,’ wrote one disapproving French priest, ‘for the wealthy overshadow the streets with buildings and leave these dirty, dark places to the poor and to travellers; there murders and robberies and other crimes which love this darkness are committed. …In every respect she exceeds moderation; for, just as she surpasses other cities in wealth, so does she surpass them in vice.’
This sort of comment was deeply unfair, but the monk who wrote it was not alone – everyone was quick to blame foreigners, whoever they might be. As one French source succinctly put it, adding yet another layer of drink-fuelled xenophobia to the already heady mix of prejudice on the Second Crusade, ‘the Germans were unbearable even to us.’ They, according to the French at least, ‘disturbed everything as they proceeded, and the Greeks therefore fled from our peaceful French king, who followed after.’ The French were having a difficult journey, and they were not shy about allocating blame – it was, as one of their chroniclers wrote, ‘the fault of the Germans who preceded us, since they had been plundering everything.’
Perhaps not surprisingly, relationships were problematic as the two main western armies of the crusade approached Constantinople. The French army attributed this to the poor behaviour of their German comrades – and doubtless, the German contingent held similar views about their French allies. Alcohol and xenophobia often went hand in hand. And the more you drank, the wider you cast the net of prejudice.
Snake Charmers and Jugglers
One particularly serious incident occurred when the armies arrived at Philippopolis in 1147. ‘We also found,’ wrote a disgruntled French commentator, that stragglers from the German army ‘had burned certain settlements outside cities; for the following incident must unfortunately be related. Outside the walls of Philippopolis was located a fine settlement of Latins [that is, Westerners] who sold a great many supplies to travellers. When the Germans had got settled in the tavern, by ill chance a juggler came in and, although ignorant of their language, nevertheless sat down, gave his money, and got a drink. After a prolonged guzzling he took a snake, which he had charmed and kept in his inside pocket, and placed it on top of a goblet which he had put on the floor, and thus, among people whose language and customs he did not know, he indulged in other jugglers’ pranks.’
Whatever the entertainer’s act consisted of, much of the humour was lost in translation. Something he, or his snake, did was massively misinterpreted. ‘As if they had seen an evil portent,’ the chronicler wrote, ‘the Germans immediately rose up, seized the juggler, and tore him to bits; and they attributed the crime of one man to all, saying that the Greeks wished to poison them.’
Crusaders could be a difficult crowd to please.
Want to learn more about crime during the Crusades? Check out Steve Tibble’s new book Crusader Criminals: The Knights Who Went Rogue in the Holy Land.
Dr Steve Tibble is a graduate of Jesus College, Cambridge and London University. He is an Honorary Research Associate at Royal Holloway College, University of London. Steve is a leading authority on warfare and violence in the crusading era.
Crusading was meant to be a holy mission, but for many knights and soldiers, the lure of taverns, drink, and other temptations often proved irresistible. From brawls and brothels to drunken misunderstandings that turned deadly, the road to the Holy Land was paved with more than just faith and steel.
By Steve Tibble
Fighting on crusade was holy work – a form of extended armed pilgrimage. But however high-minded the principles, it was often difficult to keep the men out of pubs. And pubs brought consequences with them.
Particularly in the larger towns or cities, where there was rather more anonymity, a wide range of dubious pleasures were available in taverns and bars. Access to sex, either through a chance encounter or through prostitution, was an obvious one. Where sex workers and pimps were concerned, there was always potential to argue about money, however – a bill not paid, services not adequately provided, or men failing to rise to the occasion and blaming their companion.
Taverns and Temptation
Pubs and sexual indiscretion went easily together. ‘After all, when she’s drunk,’ wrote James of Vitry, hopefully on the basis of little personal experience, ‘does Venus care about anything? She doesn’t know the difference between the head and crotch.’ It was all too easy to end up with the pox long before you arrived in the war zone of the Holy Land. And as commanders in all major wars before the invention of antibiotics knew to their cost, Cupid’s arrows could take as many men out of the front line as Turkish ones.
Even when you got to the crusader states, many of the local bars were operating as brothels. Usama ibn Munqidh, the semi-itinerant diplomatic ‘fixer’ and memoirist, had several entertaining tales to tell about the Frankish prostitutes he had encountered – or, more discreetly, that ‘a friend’ had told him about. Perhaps not surprisingly, and proving James of Vitry’s point, one of these stories involved a pub.
A ‘Friend’s’ House
Usama wrote of a time when he stayed in a ‘friend’s’ house in Nablus, whose home served as a lodging house for Muslims. This house ‘had windows that opened onto the road and, across from it on the other side of the road, there was a house belonging to a Frankish man who sold wine.’ Usama claimed to have seen a situation unfolding whereby the landlord came back unexpectedly from delivering some wine to a customer, only to discover his ‘wife’ in bed with another man.
The anecdote was used as an excuse to make a snide comment about the lack of control that the crusaders exerted over their women – ‘the Franks’, Usama wrote piously, know ‘nothing in the way of regard for honour or propriety’. But it is clear that what he really observed was the interaction between a prostitute, her client, and the landlord-pimp of the establishment.
Fear, Loathing, and Xenophobia
It was easy to talk about the evils of visiting taverns, but stopping it in practice was far more difficult. And that was reflected in many of the more unruly incidents along the paths of crusaders on the way east. Alcohol, xenophobia, and religious intolerance all encouraged extraordinarily poor behaviour. The passage of the Second Crusade was no exception, particularly when the different Catholic armies from the West converged on the Christian, but Orthodox, lands of Byzantium.
Mutual suspicion was the norm. Language problems, inflamed by drunkenness and cultural suspicion, meant that arguments were quick to boil over – and the fact that so many of the participants were heavily armed soldiers meant that the consequences were disproportionately lethal.
‘Squalid and Fetid’
Constantinople itself was easy to characterise, particularly by the clerics who often wrote the chronicles, as the consummate destination for sin and temptation. ‘The city itself is squalid and fetid, and in many places, it is shrouded in permanent darkness,’ wrote one disapproving French priest, ‘for the wealthy overshadow the streets with buildings and leave these dirty, dark places to the poor and to travellers; there murders and robberies and other crimes which love this darkness are committed. …In every respect she exceeds moderation; for, just as she surpasses other cities in wealth, so does she surpass them in vice.’
This sort of comment was deeply unfair, but the monk who wrote it was not alone – everyone was quick to blame foreigners, whoever they might be. As one French source succinctly put it, adding yet another layer of drink-fuelled xenophobia to the already heady mix of prejudice on the Second Crusade, ‘the Germans were unbearable even to us.’ They, according to the French at least, ‘disturbed everything as they proceeded, and the Greeks therefore fled from our peaceful French king, who followed after.’ The French were having a difficult journey, and they were not shy about allocating blame – it was, as one of their chroniclers wrote, ‘the fault of the Germans who preceded us, since they had been plundering everything.’
Perhaps not surprisingly, relationships were problematic as the two main western armies of the crusade approached Constantinople. The French army attributed this to the poor behaviour of their German comrades – and doubtless, the German contingent held similar views about their French allies. Alcohol and xenophobia often went hand in hand. And the more you drank, the wider you cast the net of prejudice.
Snake Charmers and Jugglers
One particularly serious incident occurred when the armies arrived at Philippopolis in 1147. ‘We also found,’ wrote a disgruntled French commentator, that stragglers from the German army ‘had burned certain settlements outside cities; for the following incident must unfortunately be related. Outside the walls of Philippopolis was located a fine settlement of Latins [that is, Westerners] who sold a great many supplies to travellers. When the Germans had got settled in the tavern, by ill chance a juggler came in and, although ignorant of their language, nevertheless sat down, gave his money, and got a drink. After a prolonged guzzling he took a snake, which he had charmed and kept in his inside pocket, and placed it on top of a goblet which he had put on the floor, and thus, among people whose language and customs he did not know, he indulged in other jugglers’ pranks.’
Whatever the entertainer’s act consisted of, much of the humour was lost in translation. Something he, or his snake, did was massively misinterpreted. ‘As if they had seen an evil portent,’ the chronicler wrote, ‘the Germans immediately rose up, seized the juggler, and tore him to bits; and they attributed the crime of one man to all, saying that the Greeks wished to poison them.’
Crusaders could be a difficult crowd to please.
Want to learn more about crime during the Crusades? Check out Steve Tibble’s new book Crusader Criminals: The Knights Who Went Rogue in the Holy Land.
on Amazon.com | Amazon.ca | Amazon.co.uk
Dr Steve Tibble is a graduate of Jesus College, Cambridge and London University. He is an Honorary Research Associate at Royal Holloway College, University of London. Steve is a leading authority on warfare and violence in the crusading era.
You can check out Steve’s other books: Templars: The Knights Who Made Britain, The Crusader Armies and The Crusader Strategy
Top Image: BNF Douce 308, fol. 259r
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