Taken as a whole, the Crusades had, as most large-scale human endeavors throughout history have had, their peaks and their valleys. OK, in this case they had, like, one peak and innumerable valleys, but you get the idea. The truth is that, while I give the Crusades a lot of crap around here, the modern world would look very different had several bands of plucky yet obviously not terribly bright Europeans not trudged off to die in the Holy Land one after another. So kudos to them. Anyway, today we’re talking about the close of the Sixth Crusade, which manages to be both a peak (kind of) and a valley (definitely).
The Sixth Crusade could be viewed as a peak because it’s the only crusade apart from the First and Second to end with the Crusaders actually in control of Jerusalem–and the Second Crusade doesn’t really count, since Jerusalem was already in Crusader hands when it began and stayed that way despite that campaign’s complete failure. The Sixth Crusade can definitely be considered a valley because it involved barely any actual fighting and led to a resolution by which Crusader “control” of Jerusalem was mostly a formality. It was, instead, a long negotiation between an excommunicated Crusader king who didn’t really want to be on Crusade, didn’t really have much of an army with him, and had no support from the Church, and an Ayyubid sultanate that was by this point so decrepit that it didn’t dare risk going to war even with that guy. While the epically dumb Fourth Crusade was more destructive to Christendom, the Sixth Crusade should have come with an accompanying laugh track.
The Sixth Crusade was, if you want to be crude about it (and why not?), Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II’s (d. 1250) middle finger to Pope Gregory IX (d. 1241). Frederick was undeniably the most powerful European monarch of the period, but he also had this habit of talking about going on Crusade without actually ever going on Crusade. Frederick had promised to take up the cause of the Holy Land when he was crowned King of Germany in 1215, and dramatically renewed his pledge when he was crowned emperor in 1220, but he nevertheless waffled on joining the 1213-1221 Fifth Crusade, which attacked the Ayyubids in Egypt. Throughout that campaign’s siege of Damietta and the army’s deleterious year of inactivity after finally capturing the city, Frederick kept sending messengers to the Crusaders promising that he and his army were on the way. Some German forces did eventually arrive at Damietta, just in time to join the army’s disastrous march south, but Frederick himself, and most of the vast army he supposedly led, never got there. Maybe it was an airline snafu.
As you might expect, some people took a dim view of Frederick after the Fifth Crusade went bust. Among them was Pope Honorius III (d. 1227), who rebuked Frederick for his inaction by letter in 1221. Relations between Frederick and the Vatican weren’t great anyway–they almost never were between popes and Holy Roman Emperors, because each invariably believed that he should be preeminent over the other. Frederick assured that pope that he had wanted to go on Crusade but just hadn’t been able to leave Germany, and in his defense he really had been occupied with consolidating his rule over the empire. He insisted he would lead a great new Crusade that would leave in 1225, ten years after he’d first promised to take up the cross. Then in 1224, he told Honorius that he was going to need more time to put an army together. To fend off a possible excommunication, Frederick assured Honorius that his Crusade would leave in August 1227, and even signed a document that made it clear he would be excommunicated if he failed to leave at that time.
In the meantime, Frederick had been widowed, and his search for a new bride landed on Isabella, the daughter of the “King of Jerusalem,” John of Brienne (NOTE: since Jerusalem was back in Muslim hands by this point, the “King of Jerusalem” actually ruled from the city of Acre). John was reluctant to consent to this marriage, fearing that the much more powerful Frederick would claim the throne of Jerusalem by marriage, though Honorius loved the idea because he assumed it would commit Frederick to going on Crusade, finally. Frederick denied that he had any interest in claiming the throne of Jerusalem, and so John consented, and Frederick and Isabella were married in 1225. Frederick then, and I’m sure you knew this was coming, claimed the throne of Jerusalem. And there wasn’t much John could do about it.
So by 1227 Frederick was motivated both by his pledge to Honorius and his newly claimed kingship to go on Crusade. The Ayyubids were a political wreck, in the midst of a civil war between the sons of the previous sultan, al-Adil (d. 1218), and Frederick was in talks with one of those sons, al-Kamil, about allying against al-Kamil’s brother and rival, al-Muʾazzam, in return for which Frederick would get Jerusalem. The time to make that big Crusade would never be better. And indeed, Frederick’s army set sail in August 1227 as promised. It’s just that Frederick…wasn’t with it. He’d been stricken by plague and headed to Naples to recuperate, and despite his promises that he was definitely going to head east just as soon as he could to meet up with his army and do that whole Crusade thing, don’t you worry, he seemed pretty comfortable staying there (in his defense, again, he had been quite ill). The new Pope, Gregory IX, was uninterested in Frederick’s excuses/promises, and excommunicated him in late September.
Frederick finally sailed for Acre in May 1228. The Crusade was now, in technical religious terms, a shitshow, being led by an excommunicate. Gregory actually urged Frederick not to go (talk about doing a 180) and then sent letters to Acre warning everyone there that Frederick was not to be obeyed as he was not a legitimate Crusader (nor was he, at that point, a legitimate Christian). But Frederick went anyway. Hence the whole exercise from this point on became that middle finger to the pope I mentioned above. Isabella even died shortly before Frederick left, which should have completely severed Frederick’s claim to be King of Jerusalem, but he doesn’t seem to have cared about this either.
The one development that did affect his plans was that al-Muʾazzam had by this point died, and so al-Kamil was no longer inclined to trade Jerusalem in return for Frederick’s military aid. So after arriving in Acre (after yet another lengthy delay in Cyprus hashing out Jerusalem’s political situation) and spending some time wrangling with al-Kamil’s negotiators, Frederick marched his army to Jaffa to rebuild that city’s fortifications, which was intended as a threat to the Ayyubids. Frederick’s army wasn’t nearly the size it had been when it set out–for some reason, when the army got to Acre and he wasn’t with it, most of his men figured that he’d backed out of yet another promise to Crusade, and they decided to go home. But this march to Jaffa was enough, apparently, to convince al-Kamil to make a deal.
The deal, which was signed on February 18, 1229, let Frederick claim a technical victory and get the hell out of Dodge, but its terms were laughable. Al-Kamil gave Jerusalem to Frederick, but the city had to be kept unfortified, all Muslims living there had to be allowed to remain, and the city’s Muslim holy places would still remain in Muslim hands. In other words, Frederick was given possession of the city in name only. When he heard the terms of the deal, the Patriarch of Jerusalem refused to formally crown Frederick King of Jerusalem in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, and Frederick’s army, largely made up of Templars and Hospitallers, rejected the deal as a paper victory.
Frederick made a brief entry into Jerusalem on March 17, where he may have crowned himself (it’s not entirely clear), before returning to Acre, where the Patriarch was actually raising his own army to march to Jerusalem and garrison the city properly. This, of course, would have completely wrecked the deal Frederick had cut with al-Kamil, and he therefore put a stop to it. Meanwhile, word reached him that Gregory and John of Brienne were campaigning against his possessions in Italy, so he left the Holy Land in May. As a final F.U. to the Crusaders he was leaving behind, Frederick made sure to destroy all their siege engines, so they wouldn’t get any funny ideas about marching on Jerusalem once he’d left. As Frederick rode to the harbor to board his ship home, we’re told that angry townspeople threw garbage at him.
Frederick recovered his Italian holdings, made peace with John and Gregory, and was restored to the Church in the Treaty of Ceprano in 1230. But Gregory excommunicated him again in 1239, when Frederick attacked and defeated the Vatican-allied Lombard League in northern Italy. He spent most of the rest of his life in a literal state of war with the papacy. Gregory called for a new Crusade, which lasted from 1239-1241 and became known as the Baron’s Crusade because none of Europe’s major monarchs joined. It was actually kind of successful–it didn’t win any huge victories but did expand the territory under Crusader control. Jerusalem, meanwhile, came back into Muslim hands briefly in 1239 before being retaken by the Crusaders in 1240. Then in 1244 the city was nearly destroyed by a Khwarazmian (Central Asian) army that had been recruited for the task by al-Kamil, and it remained in significant disrepair until Ottoman times.