Baldricus Dolensis (Baldric of Dol)
(History of Jerusalem)
Baldric's Dedicatory Letter to Peter, Abbot of Maillezais
Love forbids me silence, and leads me into loquacity: love takes away leisure, and draws me into business; love commands me not to be silent, compels me to speak and write. All this love does — not a new love, but an old and continuous one, yet in a certain way renewed. I had a certain singular and unique friend, who had claimed me entirely for himself, and in me found pleasure for himself alone — I mean Lord Geoffrey, a venerable man, of Embrun parentage, Abbot of Maillezais, a man worthy of remembrance and description, had not the trouble of encroaching time placed its obstacle in my way. I indeed, to him, insofar as I was able, I responded in loving, because I wished to be in no way inferior to him in love. He at last rested in a praiseworthy end: yet he had first voluntarily resigned the abbacy, so that he might more freely devote himself to contemplation, and serve God Himself free from occupation. In the same governance, though by his own wish, Peter succeeded him, his kinsman, afterwards a capable pastor, a man sufficiently industrious, and very well suited to so great a responsibility. For the monks of Maillezais chose him and claimed him for themselves, and showed how much they had loved my lord Geoffrey, by making his nephew abbot for love of his uncle, although many useful qualities also declared him worthy of the abbacy. Just as he succeeded his uncle in office, so too he remained his heir in the most becoming generosity of character. We have therefore this Peter, thanks be to God, surviving the good Geoffrey, well suited to our times and ways.
To him therefore I now write, I Baldric, by the grace of God Archbishop of Dol; and I greet Peter, mine — mine, I say, and yours — with my whole will. I greet you, my Peter, as rector of Maillezais; I greet you as my dearest brother; I greet you as a pilgrim and traveler to Jerusalem. I give thanks to my God, sweetest brother, who led you forth and brought you back: I give thanks to my God who directed your foot well; who dispenses all your affairs, and has dispensed them until now: may He also continue to dispense, I beseech, and I implore that He make His countenance shine upon you.
I also give you thanks, the tenor of which perhaps you have not yet heard, since you have not yet heard what I am about to command; and yet in a certain way what I had decreed to command you has already been done: as if you had already answered me: "Consider it said, consider it done." I decree to command you, not to ask, because I prefer to be imperious toward one in whom I trust, rather than to loom as a tedious critic over one from whom I am compelled to despair. I give thanks that you are such a one in whom I may trust, whom I may ask, or whom I may command. Peter, I beseech you, my revered priest, receive the expressions of my thanks generously, with the love with which I speak: which even if anyone should criticize obliquely as premature, a man of sound mind will judge them timely. For nothing can be untimely that is adorned with the courtesy and title of distinguished love. For the splendid prerogative of friendship produces most beautiful and urbane delights. For they are not truly friends who doubt one another; for friendly intimacy is bewitched where mutual security is envied. But lest I be accused of ingratitude toward myself (for ingratitude is indeed the stepmother of all good opinion), I give thanks to myself, that I have someone whom I can command. For I am not destitute of all comfort of friends, since I exercise an authoritative command over you.
Now what I command is this: you recently showed me in your chamber some explanatory glosses on the Pentateuch of Moses, you yourself read them, but you could not name the author; they pleased me, because they expressed the connection of the words; and if anything was obscure, they elucidated it. Now therefore I command your brotherhood with a command, that you send me that book transcribed, to me who beseech you, composed in such a script and with such letters as will not offend aging eyes, which will provide a path for the reader, lest a doubled letter seem to split apart, which uncouth writing does not blunt our understanding. If moreover you can find the remainder that is missing somewhere, either indicate it to me by reporting it, so that I may obtain the whole; or, being generously lavish, order it to be purchased for me at your expense.
For I think that after you have complied with me in this, you will make me studious, and from the seed sown you will receive a manifold harvest. For I shall also add interlinear interpretations, and extract inner marrows wherever they lie hidden. I shall add further, if anything has been shortened; I shall correct, if anything is superfluous. And I shall send the whole thing to no one but yours, and with your booklet going before, I shall commend it, a restless investigator, to be profitable to the posterity of readers.
What I have commanded, I do not doubt that you will solemnly carry out: but there is another thing that I pray for, that I desire, in which I shall greatly rejoice. Do not be barren toward me — write back, so that you may visit me with such an envoy; and greet me, a pilgrim and exile, thus in hither Brittany. I shall embrace that letter as another self: and you, always wish me near to you, as another you. The book which I composed in some fashion On the Journey to Jerusalem, I have sent to you for correction, which I wish you to trim and polish with a regular censor's judgment, and send back this letter with it, not unrewarded. Let us meanwhile greet one another, that we may both live and prosper, and see one another again: Amen.
But just as your Holiness has subtly and quite succinctly intimated to your experience that love can in no way love silence — this we have long since learned by experience, most reverend Father. For it drives out and expels leisure, and kindles the mind of the lover, drawing it unspeakably toward those things that are its own right, and rejoicing in them. But whence is this to me, that the letter of my lord should come to me? For behold, as soon as the sound of it reached my ears, all my inmost parts leaped within me. For just as dark and the clouds of a dark and murky sky are driven away at the onslaught of the North Wind, so too at the sight of his letter, the phantoms of all thoughts, even the burdens of the most biting cares, were banished. For no place for sadness remained where such desirable matter of so great a joy arrived. Let others read and sweat in turning over the vast volumes of philosophers: for me, the writings of my admirable Cicero suffice, and with their inexplicable sweetness they refresh the soul of the reader. Let him believe then, whatever the ancient poets have sung — only let my most beloved visit me in prose or verse, and relieve me, weighed down by the fatigues and troubles of various affairs, by the frequent and sweet consolation of his letters.
If I were to undertake to describe his most benign kindness of character and most illustrious deeds, I would fear that, astonished at the magnitude of so great a subject, I would not explain them but rather obscure them by diminishing them through the carelessness of my ignorance. It is therefore sufficient and more prudent to admire such great and manifold things of our pious Father by contemplation, and to delight in love by embracing and loving him with the arms of one's whole mind. Yet for this indissoluble love, to whom shall I give thanks? Shall I attribute it to my own probity, or to his charity that incorporates all into itself? It must be entirely assigned to him, entirely imputed to him, who joined an ant to himself and bonded it with the glue of perpetual brotherhood.
Therefore, whatever shall please him, whatever shall come to his heart, let him unhesitatingly command his purchased servant: and let him weigh and consider not the fulfillment of his command, but the devotion of the one fulfilling it. I am, I confess, I am his purchased servant: but whose? His without a doubt, whom the praiseworthy proclamations of a praiseworthy life commend from his earliest age; who also, ascending from virtue to virtue, merited to be raised to the highest summit of the priesthood; and who advances the people subject to him to sublime heights by the ploughshare of holy preaching, by the display of good works, by reproving, by beseeching, on the wings of virtues. Happy indeed, and beloved of God, is the land of Brittany, illuminated by the brilliance of so great a star. The East exults, adorned with the teachings of the apostolic Fathers and with most glorious triumph; let the West likewise rejoice, distinguished by the honors of so great a primate. Let the fierce nation lay aside its natural ferocity, as it were, hastening to the honey-flowing affability of its bishop.
Let a certain natural foolishness no longer be imputed to it, now that it has been shaped by the teachings of so wise a bishop. O admirable and praiseworthy clemency of divine dispensation! That He might have mercy on the fierce and exclude their foolishness, He sent a most gentle patron, seasoned with the salt of incomprehensible wisdom, to tame their bestial stubbornness. By visiting them He enriched them, but He despoiled us of the most welcome sight of him. By visiting, I say, a barbarous people, long buried under the darkness of ignorance, He enriched them with an incomparable treasure, and took from us a pastor, shining like the Morning Star among our countrymen. My discourse would have directed itself more fully toward him, had not the stormy tempest of so pressing a persecution thundering against us intervened.
For the present, therefore, let him kindly receive this small offering with kindness; let him see it, and not disdain to read it, not regarding the surface of the writing, but considering the affection of the sender, who prostrates himself with his whole heart and body at the traces of his feet. And since by the testimony of the divine page, "a hidden treasure and concealed wisdom are useless," we shall send as quickly as we can to his venerable paternity the glosses on the Pentateuch, transcribed, which our restless investigator seeks by knocking. For we do not doubt that from the very smallest handful we shall gather a hundredfold fruit of a multiplied harvest, to benefit future posterity. Moreover, above all we beg that, just as he promised, he correct them exactly, scraping away whatever is superfluous, and carefully inserting whatever is lacking. We also send back the book on Jerusalem, directed to me the Jerusalemite pilgrim, with the letter placed at its beginning and filled with wonderful sweetness. I am truly not a little astonished and wonder with what intention he sent the aforesaid booklet to be trimmed and polished by one so ignorant and watered by scarcely a drop of knowledge, especially since no poet would dare to presume such a thing. For where the concatenation of manifold sentences harmonizes, and the joining of the parts likewise proceeds with regular judgment and free step, and no diligent reader would find anything discordant therein. But now, with humble greeting, we bring our discourse to an end, and earnestly beseech that we may deserve to see our longed-for Father.
Prologue
Baldric, abbot of the brethren of Bourgueil, and afterwards by the mercy of God Archbishop of Dol, though unworthy, to all Christians: to love peace and truth.
Blessed be our Lord Jesus Christ, the author and most unconquered ruler of the Christian name, and the most wise propagator of Christian greatness. That you may bless Him, and in all His works you must praise Him, dearest brothers, and never forget His unfailing mercy toward us. He Himself changes kings and times; He Himself corrects the pious, that He may advance them; He Himself punishes the wicked, that He may correct them; for in Him there is nothing of mercilessness. He Himself in our times stirred up His Christendom, almost entirely, wherever in the world it was: and that Christian soldiery might rush together to rescue Jerusalem, in which He suffered, from the hands of the foul Turks, who lorded over it as over a captive, He unanimously incited His faithful. For it must be believed to have been not without divine inspiration that men abounding in all things wished to go on military service from the western to the eastern region; and to set out joyfully against barbarous nations, having left behind their estates and homes, their sons and wives, to fight with their own arm amid innumerable calamities. For who has ever heard of so many princes, so many dukes, so many knights, so many foot soldiers fighting without a king, without an emperor? For indeed in this army, no one was set over another, no one commanded another: no one arranged what seemed to be his own concern, except what the common counsel of the wise decreed, except what the resolution of the people approved. It is certain therefore that the Holy Spirit, who breathes where He wills, both animated them to undertake such great labors, and inspired in them an undivided concord.
I have striven to commend the sequence of this History to future posterity with our pen, though not sufficiently polished, although the slenderness of our small talent was not adequate to explain so great a burden fittingly. But since in our days there was a great supply of Sallusts and Ciceros, yet none who would sit down to this not ignoble leisure, a barren scarcity loomed: as if indignant at our elders, who were drowsing and idling, I undertook this work: and lest a history worthy of telling yield to the oblivion of neglect, I applied my nearly sixty-year-old hand to writing. Indeed, if more eloquent men have attempted the same thing more successfully, I do not at all prejudice them; if they have corrected me, I only pray that they not disparage our labor on account of eloquence, through the fault of envy or of arrogance.
However, I did not merit to be present at this blessed campaign, nor did I narrate things I saw; but some unknown compiler, his name suppressed, had published a booklet on this matter that was excessively rustic; yet he had woven the truth: but on account of the crudeness of the text, the noble subject matter had become cheap, and even simpler readers the uncultivated and unpolished reading immediately drove away from itself. I therefore approached this study, not desirous of vain glory, not puffed up with the swelling of pride, but carefully set down on parchment what would please future Christendom.
And although I, a Christian, have descended from Christian forebears, so that I now possess the sanctuary of God as if by inheritance, and have claimed for myself the hereditary title of Christian possession; and although I have abominated paganism with all my strength, as being an exile from the law of God; yet in setting forth the truth of history, neither love nor hatred, nor the other vices, will knowingly cast me down to either side: namely, that by detracting from the pagans, I might rashly favor the Christians, a liar and full of errors; and if the pagans did anything bravely and boldly, that I might jealously pluck something from their courage and boldness. For I shall temperately pursue the truth to be set forth; and the favor of my soul, which I owe chiefly to Christians, I shall discipline with the censorship of truth. For if I were to diminish the strength of the pagans more than is just, I would detract from the fortitude and labors of the Christians, while I would proclaim that our race fought as if against an unwarlike people with reckless bravado.
Therefore I shall briefly recapitulate what I have considered in the aforesaid text; and relying on the account of the parties narrating who were present there, I shall intersperse what I have heard, and thus with God's help I shall bring to completion the work I have undertaken. Let us now therefore apply the pen, eager for the aforesaid task. May God, the rewarder of all good things, repay me for good the profit of this presumptuous little work. Amen.
Book I
Here Begins the History of Jerusalem: How the Christians from Remote Parts of the World Sought It Out with the Greatest Labor, Conquered It, and Held It
Jerusalem, the metropolis of all Judea, a city neither ignoble nor unknown, decorated immensely and many times with royal honors, besieged many times by tyrannical enemies, razed to the ground, and bereft of its own sons led away into captivity, having endured various tumults of the times before the coming of the Savior — these things are known to those who have read even slightly the books of the historians; or who have lent eager ears to the account of those who reckon. Moreover, that Christ weeping over it while preaching foretold its destruction, no one is ignorant of, unless perhaps someone imprudently and impudently tramples the page of the Gospel with folly. How this happened will easily be clear to one reading the deeds of Titus and Vespasian: which account the most eloquent Josephus consecrated with his celebrated pen. The city itself, rebuilt again and adorned with Christian emblems, and with the most fitting edifices of churches honored with the most fitting buildings — the edifices themselves still speak to this, and the advanced walls with which the whole city is encircled bear witness; which city, because in the very times of its own Christianity it obeyed its Christ less than was fitting, was again subjugated and made to serve an earthly king, because it gradually disdained to serve the heavenly emperor.
It was therefore made tributary to the Babylonian emir for a long time, the city which had deviated from its Christ with proud stubbornness; wherefore those who escaped death or captivity, the settlers of that same city, served profane masters; and foreign gentiles lorded over the native sons. The holy temple of God was indeed polluted; and the hall of God became an irreverent meeting-place of heathen newcomers: the House of Prayer became a den of thieves, and Mother Church was alienated from her sons into a stepmother. They permitted the Church of the Holy Sepulchre to be preserved somewhat more honorably: not because they cared much about the Christian religion; but because in this way they satisfied their own interests and greed.
For Christians came from remote parts of the world for the sake of prayer, and honored that sanctuary with most lavish offerings; but the gentiles afflicted the Christians streaming in with manifold forced services, and thoroughly drained the pilgrims of the rich provisions they had brought, inasmuch as they compelled them unwillingly on the road to hire transport, and kept them from entering the desired and long-sought city until they had paid the price of admission, and thus impoverished them with various exactions; and at the last, from their abused bodies they would often wrench out their souls, shattered by torments. They had also converted other churches to their private uses — either stabling their beasts in them, or doing things even more shameful in them.
And so they provoked God against themselves, they who had abominably dishonored God, and defiled the holy places with illicit and foul acts. Therefore the divine counsel decreed to punish them; and through those over whom they had ruled, it resolved to expel them from the places dedicated to God. For the gentiles had already extended their dominion as far as Antioch, and had similarly defiled the glorious places of that holy city. Therefore they had provoked against themselves the fury of the Almighty, because they had sent up the stench of their works into heaven.
We sometimes saw citizens of Jerusalem itself among us, as beggars and exiles: we saw natives of Antioch, bewailing the fall of the holy places, and humbly begging public alms for their poverty. Some of us grieved for the destitute; for we heard the same things from our own pilgrims, whenever they returned.
The Council of Clermont and Pope Urban II's Speech
For the purpose of public preaching, the Roman pope, Urban by name, came into Gaul, and as he was an eloquent sower of words, he sowed the word of God far and wide. After celebrating a general council at Piacenza, the aforesaid pope shortly after arrived at Clermont in the Auvergne, and there with many bishops and abbots of Gaul, again celebrated a general synod, in which, having first dealt with matters pertaining to the faith, he added a sermon of this kind concerning the calamitous misfortunes of the Christians of Jerusalem and Antioch. There had also flowed together to the council from many regions powerful and honored men without number, although proud in the belt of lay knighthood. And so, seated in the pulpit, he spoke thus.
"We have heard, most beloved brothers, and you have heard — what we cannot reconsider without deep sobs — with how great calamities, with how great troubles, with how dire afflictions in Jerusalem and in Antioch and in the other cities of the Eastern region, our Christians, our brothers, members of Christ, are scourged, oppressed, and wronged. Your own brothers, companions of your womb: for you are sons of the same Christ and of the same Church; in their own hereditary homes, they are either enslaved to foreign masters, or driven out from them, or they beg among us, or — what is worse — they are sold as exiles and beaten in their own ancestral lands. Christian blood is shed, blood redeemed by the blood of Christ, and Christian flesh, blood-kin to the flesh of Christ, is delivered over to abominable outrages and wicked servitudes.
"In those cities there is everywhere mourning, everywhere misery, everywhere groaning. I say with sighs: the churches in which divine sacrifices were once celebrated — alas! — behold, stables are prepared in them for their animals: wicked men have occupied the holy cities; the Turks, foul and unclean, lord it over our brothers. At Antioch the blessed Peter sat as the first bishop: behold, in that very church the gentiles have installed their superstitions, and have shamefully driven out the Christian religion, which they above all should have honored, from the hall dedicated to God. The estates devoted to the stipends of the saints, and the patrimonies of the nobles given to sustaining the poor, are subjected to pagan tyranny, and cruel masters abuse them, having converted them to their own uses. The priesthood of God has been trampled to the ground; the sanctuary of God — oh, the outrage! — has been profaned everywhere. If any Christians still hide there, they are sought out with unheard-of torments.
"Concerning holy Jerusalem, brothers, until now we have as it were pretended not to speak, because we greatly fear and blush to speak of it: since that very city, in which, as you all know, Christ Himself suffered for us, has been brought, our sins demanding it, under the filth of the Pagans, and withdrawn from the service of God (I speak to our shame), for that it is so is the crowning of our reproach, and a great disgrace for Christians, who have so deserved it. Whom does the church of the Blessed Mary now serve, in which she herself was buried in body in the Valley of Josaphat? But why have we passed over the temple of Solomon — nay, of the Lord — in which barbarous nations venerate their idols, recently placed there against all right and law? We have refrained from recalling the Lord's Sepulchre, because some of you, with your own eyes, have seen to how great an abomination it has been delivered. From there the Turks violently seize the offerings which you have many times brought there as alms, and there they heap upon our religion many and innumerable mockeries.
"And yet in that place (I speak of things not unknown), God rested, there He died for us, there He was buried. How precious is that desirable place of the Lord's burial, that incomparable place: For indeed God has not yet failed to perform an annual miracle there; for on the days of His Passion, when all the lights both in the sepulchre and in the church round about have been extinguished, the extinguished lamps are relit by divine radiance. Whose heart of flint, brothers, would such a miracle not soften? Believe me, he is a bestial man and of dull mind, whose heart the divine power so present does not strike toward faith. And yet the gentiles see these things in common with the Christians, and are not amended: they endure them indeed, but are not converted to the faith: and no wonder, since the blindness of mind rules over them.
"With how great afflictions those of you who were present, who returned, were wronged — you yourselves know better, you who sacrificed your possessions, your blood, to God there. We have said these things for this reason, dearest ones, that we might have you yourselves as witnesses of our sermon. There remain yet more miseries of our brothers, and devastations of the Churches of God, which we could recount one by one, but tears and groans press upon us; sighs and sobs press upon us. Let us weep, brothers — come, let us weep, and groaning with the Psalmist, let us weep from the depths of our being. Wretched we, unhappy we, for whom this prophecy has been fulfilled: 'O God, the nations have come into your inheritance; they have polluted the temple of your holiness; they have made Jerusalem a storehouse for fruit; they have given the corpses of your servants as food to the birds of heaven, the flesh of your saints to the beasts of the earth. They have poured out their blood like water round about Jerusalem, and there was none to bury them' (Psalm 78).
"Woe to us, brothers: we, who have already become a reproach to our neighbors, a mocking and derision to those who are round about us; let us grieve and suffer with our brothers, at least in tears; we, made the refuse of the people, and the worst of all, let us bewail the most monstrous devastation of the most holy land. Which land we would rightly call holy, in which there is not even a footprint that the body or the shadow of the Savior has not illuminated and sanctified; or the glorious presence of the holy Mother of God; or the embraceable passage of the apostles; or the blood of martyrs to be drunk in, poured forth. How blessed, O Stephen protomartyr, the stones that crowned you! How happy, O John the Baptist, the waters of the Jordan that served you for baptizing the Savior!
"The children of Israel, led out of Egypt, who prefigured you by crossing the Red Sea, claimed that land for themselves by their arms, with Jesus as their leader; they drove out the Jebusites and other immigrants from there, and in the likeness of the heavenly Jerusalem, they inhabited the earthly Jerusalem. What do we say, brothers? Hear and understand. You who are girded with the belt of military service, you are proud with great arrogance; you tear your brothers apart, and you cut one another to pieces: This is not the military service of Christ, which rends the fold of the Redeemer. Holy Church reserved military service for itself for the succor of her own, but you have wickedly corrupted it into evil.
"To confess the truth, of which we ought to be the heralds, you truly do not hold the way by which you may go to salvation and life — you oppressors of orphans, you plunderers of widows, you murderers, you sacrilegious ones, you robbers of others' rights; you who in shedding Christian blood await the wages of brigands; and as vultures smell out corpses, so you scent out and pursue wars in distant lands. Certainly this way is the worst, because it is entirely remote from God.
"Furthermore, if you wish your souls to be looked after, either put off the belt of this kind of military service as quickly as possible, or boldly advance as soldiers of Christ, and more swiftly rush together to defend the Eastern Church. For this is she from whom the joys of all your salvation have flowed, who distilled into your mouth the words of divine milk, who administered to you the sacred and holy teachings of the Gospels. We say these things for this reason, brothers, that you may restrain your murderous hands from the slaughter of your brothers, and that you may set yourselves against foreign nations on behalf of the members of the household of faith. And under Jesus Christ our leader, O Christian army, O most unconquerable army, fight for your Jerusalem better than the ancient Israelites themselves did; and attack and conquer the Turks who are in it, more abominable than the Jebusites.
"Let it be a beautiful thing for you to die in that city for Christ, in which Christ died for you. Moreover, if it should happen that you die on this side, count it the same as dying on the way, if indeed Christ finds you in His service. God is the rewarder of the same denarius, both in the first and the eleventh hour (Matthew 20). It is dreadful, brothers, dreadful, that you should stretch out a rapacious hand against Christians: it is a lesser evil to brandish the sword against the Saracens; it is a singular good: because it is also charity, to lay down one's life for one's brothers. But do not be anxious about tomorrow's provisions, for know that those who fear God lack nothing, neither do those who love Him in truth. The possessions of your enemies shall also be yours: for you will despoil their treasures, and either return victorious to your own lands, or stained with your own blood, you will obtain an everlasting prize.
"You ought to serve such an emperor, who lacks no power, who has no lack of wages to repay. The way is short, the labor is very small, which will repay you with so unfading a crown. Let us now therefore speak with prophetic authority. 'Gird yourself, O man, with your sword upon your thigh, O most mighty one' (Psalm 44:4): Gird yourselves, I say, and be sons of might, for it is better for you to die in battle than to see the evils of your nation and of the saints. Let not the alluring blandishments of your wives and your possessions caress you into not going, nor let the labors to be endured deter you into remaining."
And turning to the bishops: "You," he said, "brothers and fellow bishops, you fellow priests and co-heirs of Christ, announce the same thing through the churches committed to you, and preach the way to Jerusalem with full voice and manly courage. To those who have confessed the ignorance of their sins, secure in Christ, promise heavenly pardon. And you who are about to go, you shall have us as those who pray for you; let us have you as those who fight for the people of God. It is yours to pray, yours to fight against the Amalekites; we shall extend with Moses our tireless hands in prayer toward heaven; you, fearless warriors, draw and brandish the sword against Amalek."
The Response to Urban's Speech
When these and other such things had been eloquently conveyed by the Lord Apostolic to those present, some were bathed in tears, others trembled, others debated the matter. But among all those in that same council, before our eyes, a man of great name and the highest nobility, the Bishop of Le Puy named Adhemar, approached the lord pope with a cheerful countenance, and kneeling, he asked for and obtained permission and a blessing to go; moreover he received from the Apostolic a commission that all should obey him, and that he himself, by virtue of his office, should be patron to the army in all things — inasmuch as all knew him to be a prelate of great vigor and singular diligence. Thus, with a worthy leader found for the army of God, a great multitude of nobles gave their assent, and immediately all sewed the banner of the holy cross onto their outer garments. For thus the pope had commanded, and it had pleased him that those who would go should bear this sign: indeed the supreme pontiff had preached that the Lord had said to his followers: "If anyone does not bear his cross and come after me, he cannot be my disciple." "Therefore," he said, "you ought to fit the cross upon your garments, so that by this you may go forth more safely, and provide an example and encouragement to those who see you."
While these things were happening, behold, unexpectedly there arrived legates of the Count of Toulouse, namely Raymond of Saint-Gilles, who reported that he himself was going to go and had already fitted the cross upon himself, and they testified to this in the council. "Innumerable knights have also joined him," they said, "and he will lead a very great number of people under his command." And they added: "If anyone belongs to God, let him join him, for he will share his wealth with the needy, and will deny his help and counsel to none of the travelers." Behold, thanks be to God, already for the Christians about to set out, two voluntary leaders have come forward; behold the priesthood and the kingdom; the clerical order and the lay order agree in leading the army of God. The bishop and the count represent for us Moses and Aaron.
Upon hearing these things, any who had been faint-hearted yesterday were today emboldened, and they were everywhere clothed with the holy cross. The council was dissolved, and each of us hastened back to our own homes. Bishops preached, and with a freer voice the laity now proclaimed the same: the word of God was sown, and daily the number of those bound for Jerusalem increased; those who remained behind were ashamed, and those who were preparing to go on pilgrimage already gloried openly. They exhorted one another; and in corners and at crossroads, they spoke of nothing else. Indeed, they say that certain signs occurred divinely for these undertakings, which we do not at all deny to be true.
(Year of the Lord 1095.) Indeed in the year one thousand and ninety-five from the Incarnation, on the day before the Nones of April, a Wednesday, with the moon in its twenty-fifth day, there was seen by innumerable observers in Gaul such a shower of stars that, had they not been shining, they would have been taken for hail on account of their density. Some even thought they had fallen, but we do not presume to rashly affirm anything about their descent. We know, however, with Truth as witness, that at some time the stars will fall from heaven (Matthew 24:29). As for their movement and their flashing, if anyone doubts, let him either believe us, or at least accept our annals, in which he will find it recorded. But what this phenomenon chiefly portended we do not at all determine: especially since it has not yet been given to us to know the mystery of the kingdom of God; but through parables and certain comparisons, they compared the movement of the stars to the movement of Christendom. For in the following year (1096) both the synod was held at Clermont, and the journey was begun.
Besides all these things, a certain intimate desire was inspired in Christians, so that nearly all would have undertaken the journey, if they had the means for provisions. Fathers rejoiced at the departure of their sons; wives rejoiced at the departure of their most beloved husbands, and were more distressed that they themselves were staying behind. Yet more departed than those whose husbands were hastening away with scarcely any or no prospect of return. And wonderfully, as usually happens at the deaths of dear ones, a feeling of joy wrung tears from both sides. But the remedy exceeded all measure, because in some the desire to go crept in more than it should have. For many hermits, recluses, and monks, having unwisely left their dwellings, set out on the journey: some indeed departed with permission received from their abbots for the sake of prayer; but many more slipped away by fleeing.
Many also from the common people boastfully displayed a cross supposedly divinely imprinted upon them; certain women also presumed the same: but this was found to be entirely false. Many indeed applied hot iron in the shape of a cross to themselves, whether from the plague of boasting, or from a display of their good will. But about these things, as you like. For by such rumors the throng of those going increased so greatly that the number was now beyond counting. We have inserted these things lest we seem to have omitted anything, or be accused of having spared our countrymen in their vanities.
The Leaders of the Crusade
Nor did this rumor stir only the common people and those on this side of the mountains, but it roused palatine lords and royal princes, namely Hugh the Great, brother of the King of the French; Robert Count of Normandy, son of William King of the English; and again Robert of Flanders. In the regions of Germany, Duke Godfrey, with his brothers Baldwin and Eustace, received this word, and again another Baldwin, Count of Mons. Beyond the mountains also, namely in Apulia, this word spread widely: and it summoned Bohemond, a man of great enterprise, son of Robert Guiscard, brother of Duke Roger, and joined to him his nephew Tancred, and Richard of the Principate. Moreover, if I were to attempt to speak of the men of consular rank, I would not be silent about Ralph of Beaugency, nor would I pass over Evrard of Le Puiset, nor Centorio of Bieria, nor would I overlook anything about William Amanei, nor would our pen disdain many others who nevertheless distinguished themselves by their illustrious deeds, and conducted themselves laudably in the army of God. Nor shall envious oblivion pass over these or others, when a fitting occasion presents itself.
The March to Constantinople and Peter the Hermit's Advance Force
The aforesaid men therefore, having undertaken God's expedition, approached Constantinople, the city of imperial dignity, with innumerable peoples. For not even England, or other maritime islands, though removed from the world by the abyss of the resounding sea, could this thunder remain hidden from; indeed, the rapidly growing fame both inspired and armed the Britons and Gascons, and the Galicians, the remotest of men. The Venetians also and the Pisans, and the Genoese, and all who dwelt on the shore of the Ocean or the Mediterranean Sea, filled the sea, plowing it with ships laden with arms and men, machines and provisions; and those who went by land covered the face of all the earth, like locusts.
The aforesaid Germans had to pass through Hungary, and they did so. A certain Peter, the great Hermit, with many Germans and very many Franks, had preceded the following column and had arrived at the royal city. He found, however, many Lombards and Longobards and yet more Germans who had preceded him; and at the emperor's command, they were waiting for the arriving army. The emperor meanwhile had ordered that a market be provided for them, as was right, in the city. He had also strictly commanded that they should not cross a certain gulf of the sea, which they call the Arm of Saint George, until the main army that was following should arrive. "For if," he said, "you act otherwise, fierce pagans will rush upon you and destroy this unwarlike legion" — which indeed afterward came to pass.
For that multitude, without king, without leader, gathered from various places and living without discipline, rapaciously swooped upon others' property, and carried off and sold the lead with which churches had been roofed, and moreover destroyed palaces, and in all things conducted themselves wickedly. When the emperor learned of this, he was greatly angered, since he now saw them ungrateful for his generosity. He therefore compelled them to cross over, having been expelled from the city.
The Disaster at Xerigordon
And having crossed, they committed many further outrages against Christians: for they burned their houses and churches, having plundered the land with hostility. At last they came to Nicomedia. There, separating the Lombards, Longobards, and Germans from the Franks — for the Franks were fiercer and more unruly, and on that account more inclined to every mischief — the other peoples, with the Franks removed, appointed a certain Rainald over themselves; and under his leadership they entered Romania. But advancing beyond the city of Nicaea, a journey of four days, they found a certain castle named Xerigordon, empty of all inhabitants (whether from fear or by design is uncertain). Entering it therefore for the sake of lodging, they remained there, for they found it abundantly full of all provisions. When the Turks learned of this through their scouts, without delay they hastened to surround the castle. Rainald had gone out of the castle with his men to set ambushes for the approaching Turks. But the Turks prevailed and struck down many of them with the sword; those who could, having escaped by flight, were received back into the castle, which being besieged on all sides, the Turks immediately cut off their water.
For the spring and well by which the castle was sustained was outside, and the army of the Turks ceaselessly guarded it, having manfully surrounded it on both sides. Nothing is harder for those who labor than the want of water; nothing more quickly conquers safe places than the injury of intolerable thirst. The Christians were therefore compelled to draw and drink the blood of their pack animals. Others lowered cloths into muddy cisterns, and were not ashamed to squeeze whatever moisture they found into their mouths. It was said — which is exceedingly shameful — that some urinated into their own hands and drank it. Others, if by chance they found damp or cool earth, dug into it; and lay upon it naked, or pressed it to their chests, so that they might somehow at least be refreshed. Who, tormented in such straits, could survive?
Yet those who were near death endured this great hardship for eight days, while the priests who were present spoke thus in the meantime: "Endure, brothers, for God is present to test you. Do not therefore despair even in these great tribulations; but act energetically, so that you who have provoked his wrath may, even now placed in dire straits, win for yourselves his overflowing mercy. You may be able to merit his favor, placed in such distress, if you flee to his help with your whole heart. He once commanded the rock to be struck in the desert of Sinai, and waters flowed, and our fathers drank their fill. His power endures still, his mercy endures still. If he does not hear you now, the fault is ours; if he does not look upon you now, the negligence is ours. Remember that we have gravely offended and provoked him, we who have fattened ourselves inexcusably on the plunder of our brothers' goods and the destruction of churches."
The priests repeated these things to them daily, but they could not be given to drink of the wine of compunction. They had rotted like beasts in their own dung, and therefore, hardened in heart with Pharaoh, they could by no means make satisfaction to God for their sins: and so they perished. They stopped their ears, deafer than asps, against the voice of those wisely charming, and therefore they truly acted foolishly. Indeed their leader Rainald took counsel with the Turks, and agreed to betray his brothers to them if he could. He therefore went out with many, pretending to advance to battle, and as a deserter fled to the Turks. Those who remained were compelled to make a shameful surrender; and — O wretched crime! — turned to despair, they committed an abominable apostasy against the Lord. But those who bore testimony to their faith either underwent capital punishment, or were set up as targets and shot with arrows, or torn from one another, were sold for a paltry price or led into captivity — some to Antioch, some to Khorasan, some to Aleppo, or wherever it most pleased those who triumphed over them and took them captive to lead their captives. Yet those who held unshaken to the Christian faith rested with a glorious end.
Christians suffered this first persecution on the third day before the Kalends of October.
The Turks, hearing in turn that Peter the Hermit and Walter surnamed "the Penniless" were in another city called Civitot near Nicaea, undertook to pursue them, made more savage by their recent successes, and more inclined to shed blood in the manner of raging wolves or a fierce tiger. Now therefore, confident of triumph, rushing forward they met Walter, and cut down both him and many who were with him. For Peter the Hermit had already returned to Constantinople, since that quarrelsome people would not consent to listen to him. And because the Turks found them unprepared, they had therefore more easily overcome them.
They even beheaded a certain priest of the Lord who was humbly celebrating the solemnities of the Mass. Those who could escape alive fled, hiding in the marshes, forests, or mountains; others held the castle of Civitot, to defend themselves; which the Turks immediately besieged, and having gathered a great quantity of wood from all sides, were preparing a conflagration for both the castle and the men. But the Christians, now placed in the extremity of despair, became more spirited: "For desperation sometimes makes men bolder"; they boldly hurled fire onto the wood. Thus they escaped the fire, but did not entirely escape the imminent peril of death.
For the Turks seized the entire fortification of the castle, and the Christians they captured they either killed, or took captive, or mocked with every kind of insult. This second passion befell them in the month of October. Behold, in a short interval of time, in a small extent of territory, Christendom was twice routed, twice punished, twice chastised: which we do not doubt befell them for the expiation of their crimes, and for the repression of the recklessness of the less cautious, and for the necessary discipline of the army that was to follow. For those who had still encamped on this side of Constantinople, having heard this (for many fugitives had returned, all of whose arms the emperor had purchased, so that unarmed they could do less harm to his people) waited for one another, so that having shared counsel, relying on auxiliary leaders, and surrounded by military forces, they might enter the land of the enemies, having first appeased the Deity through the pure confession of their prayers.
While these things were happening, Duke Godfrey and his brothers Baldwin and Eustace, and Baldwin of Mons, passing through Hungary with their troops, were approaching Constantinople. For the Bishop of Le Puy and Count Raymond were marching through Slavonia. Hugh the Great and the Count of Flanders, and Robert Duke of the Normans, passing by Rome with their fellow soldiers, arrived in Apulia.
Bohemond, however, hearing that such great throngs of Franks were arriving — for so great a man could not have been ignorant of this matter, given such widespread fame — having examined the merits and standards of each, ordered his finest cloak to be brought; which, cut into pieces, he distributed as a cross to each of his men, and kept his own for himself. So great a rush of soldiers suddenly came to him that Count Roger in the siege (for both were engaged in a certain siege) was left almost alone; and grieving that he had lost his people, he returned to Sicily with a few.
Bohemond, however, as he was a man most moderate in all things, modestly prepared his route and transport, and with his chief men and with the armed forces gathering to him, crossed over, and at length with a calm voyage landed in the regions of Bulgaria. The names of his men who joined him on this journey, and who had previously fought alongside him in other wars, are these: Tancred son of the Marquis; Richard of the Principate, Ranulf his brother, Robert of Anse, Hermann of Canne; Robert of Sourdeval, Robert son of Turstan, Humphrey son of Radulf, Richard son of Count Rannulf, and the Count of Rusinolo, with his brothers, and Boellus of Chartres, Albered of Cagnano, and Gunfred of Montescaglioso. All these united with Bohemond unanimously, and swore to him inseparably that they would most devoutly obey him on the way of God.
Hugh the Great and William son of the Marquis entered the sea too hastily at the port of Bari, and sailing, they landed at Durazzo. But the duke of that city, one of the emperor's princes, judging them to be — as they truly were — great and notable men, ordered them seized, since they were not yet sufficiently fortified with military wedges and auxiliary infantry companies. He therefore had them carefully escorted to Constantinople under watchful guard: so that the emperor might decide about them at his pleasure, and thus, if he wished, receive homage and fealty from them. This duke appeared to have done this chiefly so that the devotion which he held toward his emperor might be proven by such signs, and he might win the emperor's favor more strongly for himself.
Duke Godfrey, first of all the leaders, came to Constantinople two days before the Nativity of the Lord, and encamped near it. For Bohemond, waiting for his men who were striving to follow him, was advancing step by step; accordingly he was shrewdly waiting for them by going forward little by little day by day. The emperor, shortly after, assigned lodging to the duke in the suburb of the city. But the squires of the ducal army were running about outside the city without any caution, to bring in straw and other necessities. For they did not yet suspect anything sinister from the emperor, since he had voluntarily provided them lodging.
But the emperor had secretly commanded his Turcopoles and Pechenegs to attack those going out daily, and kill them, and to keep most careful watch for this purpose. The loss of his men was reported to the duke, and the unexpected ambushes of the Turcopoles were revealed to him. Baldwin therefore went out for the protection of his men, and if possible for the destruction of the ambushers. He found them pursuing his men, and attacking the unwary by surprise, he overcame them; he killed some, and having captured sixty of them alive, he fearlessly presented them to his brother the duke. When Emperor Alexius heard this (for Alexius was his name), greatly angered, he ceaselessly devised evil against the army of Christ in his heart. The duke, certain of the emperor's furious agitation, taking precautions for the future, left the city and settled where he had previously pitched his tents. When night came, the duke's camp was attacked by order of the emperor, and his army was harassed with many injuries. But the duke, as he was most shrewd in such matters and a most fierce fighter, had prudently stationed sentries to watch over the tents, and had commanded each man to keep watch; for he was not ignorant of the emperor's cunning. The attackers were quickly repulsed, and with seven of them killed, the duke boldly chased the fleeing men right up to the gate of the city. Then returning to his tents, he remained there for nearly five days — the emperor meanwhile scheming evil against him; the duke more anxiously taking counsel for himself and his men; the emperor forbidding him passage through the royal city; the duke waiting for the arrival of the nobles who were following.
The emperor at last, so as to leave nothing untried (for he was a keen and industrious man), under the pretext of peace made a pact with the duke: that if he crossed the Arm, he would always send him an abundant market; and would provide the necessary provisions to all who were in need, so long as he could be assured of him by an oath. The emperor did this in order to remove the duke with his forces from that region, lest he be able to benefit from the counsels and aid of the other princes who were arriving. The duke therefore crossed, having exchanged mutual pledges of fidelity with the emperor.
Bohemond meanwhile came to the valley of Adrianople and there addressed his men in an assembly thus: "Our nobles and fellow soldiers, it is necessary that we all proceed from here with caution. Caution is most essential for us, especially since we are on pilgrimage from our homeland for God's sake. We are pilgrims for God, soldiers of Christ; let us restrain our plundering hands from pillaging the homes of Christians. The time will come when we shall enter hostile territory, when we shall be enriched and rejoice from their rich spoils. Whatever Christians provide us a market, let them come safely and return safely; the land in which we are belongs to Christians, therefore it is not permitted for you to plunder it. Let us take food in it only as a blessing; and let us not tear apart the property of our brothers beyond what the need of living requires. But you, our nobles, our companions, who are more free to act, take more vigilant care of the foot-soldiers, and so that they may not fail on the road, proceed at a more measured pace by waiting for them, and pitch your tents in good time. And since, thanks be to God, you are wealthier, pour out your wealth in alms for the poor, and always keep the Lord present before your eyes."
Having said these things, the most prudent hero fell silent and ordered the camp to be moved from the valley. At length they reached Castoria, where they solemnly celebrated the Nativity of the Lord; and having lingered there for some days, they were unable to obtain the market they sought. For the men of that city claimed they were by no means pilgrims, but gladiators and tyrants. They were therefore compelled, driven by hunger, to seize oxen, horses, and donkeys, and whatever might be found that could more suitably be eaten.
Departing then from Castoria, they encamped in Pelagonia. There was a most strongly fortified castle of Heretics there, abundantly stocked with all goods: which, attacked on every side, they utterly destroyed together with its inhabitants who were burned with it, being hostile indeed to the heretics. For all those travelers held Jews, heretics, and Saracens equally hateful, calling them all enemies of God. That castle therefore having been destroyed from its foundations, and all its inhabitants having been extinguished, they struck their tents and reached the river Vardar, which Bohemond crossed with part of his army: for another part, namely the Count of Rusinolo with his brothers, remained behind.
But the emperor's men, who were scouting while blocking the roads, seeing the army divided, made an assault and rushed upon the count and his men, hoping to prevail over them without difficulty, since the army was divided from itself. When Tancred learned of this, either through a messenger or through the tumult — for they were not yet far from the others — spurring his swift horse with his spurs, he flew like a thunderbolt; and having forded the river that lay between, or rather having swum across it, he brought swift aid to the count. For two thousand soldiers had followed Tancred, who likewise having crossed the river provided them assistance: and they immediately, contrary to the expectation of the Turcopoles, prevailed over them and put them to flight from the battle, and gloriously triumphed over the routed. And having killed some, they presented the greater number, captured and bound, to Bohemond, who questioned them as to why they so cruelly resisted his expedition, especially since he was not hostile to their emperor. He heard them reply: "We, stationed at the emperor's pay, can do nothing other than what he commands."
Bohemond, however, though indignant at the emperor, yet restraining himself, dismissed them unpunished, but threatened them not to harm his men any further, and thus restrained them. He is believed to have said to his close companions: "We who are passing through the emperor's territory, let us restrain the swelling of our spirits, and let us avoid provoking him unjustly as much as we can. It is the mark of extreme folly for a man to exhaust all his spirit in a place where an agitated mind will achieve no result. Moreover, it is the way of prudence for a powerful man to conceal himself where he cannot satisfy his power. It is the mark of wisdom to defer to a better time what you cannot accomplish immediately. On the other hand, he deserves to be accused of sloth and cowardice who, when he can do no more, thunders with threats; but when he can act, forgets the wrong that was done to him. If we can, let us overcome the emperor with kindnesses; but if not, let us bear with equanimity the evils done to us."
This he said, and silently restrained the anger of his spirit. This battle took place on a Wednesday at the beginning of Lent. There is no doubt that on that day the pilgrims fought unwillingly, except that the necessity of defending themselves pressed upon them. Meanwhile the emperor's legates met Bohemond (for Bohemond had already sent his envoys to him) to escort him safely through that land, and provide them a market everywhere. He sent for this purpose a certain curopalate of his, very close to him, a most capable man. This man always went ahead, and speaking to the local officials on the emperor's authority, always prepared a market for them.
They came to a certain castle, which because it was overflowing with grain, cheese, wine and oil, they were eager to attack; for the inhabitants of the castle neither prepared a market for them, and feared them so greatly that they would receive none of them. But Bohemond manfully forbade it, lest perhaps the emperor find in it some offense: although Tancred and others resisted him greatly to his face; yet the judgment of the one who forbade prevailed.
At daybreak the inhabitants of the castle came out to meet him, bearing crosses in their hands, begging for pardon, and offering him whatever might please him; he willingly forgave them and passed on. He then came to a city called Serres, and there they had a sufficient market. Bohemond then acted prudently, for he came to an agreement with the two curopalates without any bitterness, and on that day they became the best of friends; and on account of their friendship, he ordered all the animals that his men had seized to be returned, whatever could be found. The curopalates, for their part, returned everything to the men to whom they had belonged: thus the mourning of those who wept was turned into joy.
Then as the occasion demanded, they encamped from place to place, and came as far as the city of Rusa: there, having sufficiently obtained whatever necessities they needed (for the Greek people eagerly desired to see Bohemond), they pitched their tents on the Wednesday before the Lord's Supper. Bohemond, leaving his people there, set out with a few toward the emperor, and said to his men: "Conduct yourselves modestly: I will go ahead of you, to prepare passage for you; but you, approach the city in a measured way, and do all things wisely."
Tancred, however, the head and prince of Bohemond's army, seeing the Christians impoverished and begging on the expedition, grieved for them immensely; and he thought to lead them by another route where they might find food. They therefore entered a valley rejoicing in fertile soil and filled with bodily nourishment, where they celebrated the Lord's Easter.
The emperor, hearing that Bohemond had arrived — whom he greatly feared (for he had frequently heard of his prudence and boldness, and he himself had fought against his father Guiscard once and again and had been defeated) — received him honorably, and provided for him abundantly outside the city, as befitted them both. But while the emperor was occupied with his conference with Bohemond, Duke Godfrey had returned to Constantinople, having left his men beyond the Arm: because the emperor, as he had agreed with him, was sending no market.
The Bishop of Le Puy and the Count of Saint-Gilles were also present, having left behind their remaining multitude. The emperor, having taken counsel from his advisors (for the Greek people are much skilled in taking counsel), addressed each of the heroes through intermediaries, asking that they all give him homage and fealty, and thus cross over in safety. For the nobles of the royal city, taking precautions lest perhaps the assembled Franks rise up against them and deprive them of their goods, had advised the emperor to do this, so that at least they might live securely from the Franks in this way. For the Franks utterly abhor perjury.
This the emperor was cunningly seeking, the Franks manfully refusing; the Franks protesting that they owed an oath to none but God, whose soldiers they were on this journey. To this the emperor would deny them passage, but for the rest promise both a market and an escort, and affirm that he himself would go after them and come to their aid with all his forces. The Franks were in a bind, refusing to take the oath, especially since the Greeks would by no means grant them passage otherwise. What were they to do? They did not wish to fight against Christians; they could not have peaceful passage; to return home with their enterprise unfinished they abhorred.
At length, compelled by many necessities, they came to this resolution, somewhat enticed by the emperor's promises: that they would satisfy the emperor on such terms, if he himself would order that whatever he promised them should be sworn to them — which was all done accordingly. They therefore swore to Emperor Alexius his life and honor, that they would deprive him of neither, so long as he kept in good faith what he swore. But the Count of Saint-Gilles resisted more than the others; indeed, he restlessly pondered how he might avenge his men upon the emperor. Yet the common resolution of the heroes prevailed; and they called back the spirited count from this intention. He therefore swore, but was by no means brought to give homage: for he said he would rather die than pay homage to the emperor.
They say that the oath of the count was sufficient for the Greeks, since they could not extort what further they demanded; and so orders were immediately given for the sailing. Tancred meanwhile had arrived with the army entrusted to him. Hearing therefore that the emperor had demanded an oath from the elders, he hid with Richard of the Principate among the common people; and hastening onto the ships, he swiftly passed through.
Bohemond, however, said briefly to his men about to cross: "Hasten your step, and do nothing rashly: I shall remain still to discuss the market, lest we seem to have done anything without due consideration; walk prudently, neither too carelessly, nor fight foolishly. It often happens that the foolishness of some hinders the cause of the wise. See to it therefore that you all walk carefully, each and every one, and admonish one another more attentively." This he said, and gave hasty orders for the crossing.
Behold, again the delegations of the Bishop of Le Puy and likewise of the Count of Toulouse were present. The count therefore remained with his people, until he and Bohemond were satisfied regarding the market.
Duke Godfrey came with others to Nicomedia and was there with Tancred for three days. And learning that there was no road open by which so many great peoples could proceed, the duke sent three thousand men to level the precipices of rocks and mountains, who having taken axes, hatchets, and billhooks, and various other iron tools, to clear the thickets and brambles and to level the steep mountain passes, prepared a road for the army. And having set up tall markers which those following might recognize, lest they should chance to go astray, they came to Nicaea on the day before the Nones of May.
Now Nicaea is the capital of all Romania. So with camp established and tents pitched, Nicaea was besieged, which is a most strongly fortified city, since walls stretching to the sky showed it to be impregnable, and a lake bordering the city girded it on one side. The Christians therefore suffered there a grievous scarcity of bread, so that whenever a single loaf was found, it was bought for twenty or thirty denarii: for no market had yet been sent to them by the emperor. But with God providing for his own, Bohemond immediately came, bringing an abundant market by land and sea; and thus there was a sudden and unexpected abundance of provisions in the entire army of Christ.
On the day of the Lord's Ascension, they undertook to storm the city and to erect wooden siege engines against the height of the walls. For two days therefore, fiercely assailing the city, they also attempted to undermine the wall. The pagans who were inside vigorously resisted, defending their walls and homes with great force; hurling stones and missiles, protecting themselves with shields, and boldly opposing the oncoming storm of projectiles. For their part the Gauls left nothing untried; they concealed themselves under a tortoise-formation of interlocked shields, and thus avoided the onslaught of missiles; and thus repeatedly harassed the exhausted besieged.
Meanwhile the citizens, having sent messengers — for on the side where the lake extended, the city could not be observed — summoned help from their kinsmen and neighbors, saying: "Hasten, you will enter through the southern gate with nothing to fear. For the southern gate," they said, "is still free from all siege." But on that very day, that same gate was entrusted to the Count of Toulouse and the Bishop of Le Puy — namely on the Saturday after the Ascension of the Lord; for both had arrived on that same day.
The count therefore met the Saracens, who were approaching confidently, with an unexpected armed force; and his whole army was splendid in arms; and all, trusting in the sign of the holy cross, manfully repulsed the barbarous stupidity. That people, having lost not a few of their own, was shamefully turned to flight, and was overcome by the Franks without difficulty. The count therefore entered his tents that day with a great trophy.
The besieged citizens again sent other messengers to speak about aid, and to attest by oath their hope of battle and certainty of victory. They came therefore in throngs, rejoicing together, reckoning that victory was in their hands, and already exulting in the plundering of their enemies' spoils. They each brought out their ropes, with which they would lead bound Christians away to captivity. For they were confident both in the great forces of the assembled nations, and in the strength of their own courage. They also looked down upon the Christian people, as a nation afflicted by the length of the journey, and worn out by hunger and thirst and many other hardships.
Therefore from the mountain peaks, carelessly massed together, they descended, and strove to rush all the way to the city. The Franks met them again: for the Franks, neglecting nothing, were watching all the roads; they attacked them once more, overcame them once more, put them to flight once more; and with many given over to destruction, they returned victorious, and even brought back very many heads of the slain, which the slingers hurled into the city — to the exultation of the besiegers and the dismay of the besieged.
Yet the pagans resisted the Christians no less fiercely; now hurling missiles from the battlements, defending the walls; now sallying forth to disrupt the very camp. Against this, Count Raymond and the Bishop of Le Puy organized men to undermine without ceasing the tower that loomed above their tents, and despite their failing strength, to persist in the task assigned. So attacking the city, and driving back the rebellious inhabitants with crossbows, bows, and slings (for you would have thought the incoming missiles were a hailstorm), they directed men prepared for the task right up to the walls, and shrewdly protected them lest the townspeople could do them any harm. They therefore undermined the tower from its foundations, and having inserted timbers and set fire in the breached wall, they returned unharmed to their men. The fire immediately took hold of the timbers. When these were consumed, the overhanging tower dried out, and gaping through its cracks, the entire structure succumbed to ruin.
But since it was night, the Christians neither could nor wished to fight against the city, intending to do so the next morning. But that very delay greatly helped the besieged and greatly harmed the Christians. For during the night, the pagans restlessly rebuilt the wall, and spent that night sleepless, idling in nothing, but encouraging one another about the defense of their city. At dawn the Franks were greatly astonished at the unexpected rebuilding of the wall, and they praised their tirelessness, yet they grieved because they were compelled to linger there longer. For the pagans had suddenly raised the rampart so high that the Christians could by no means harm them from that side. Thus the labor of the Christians was rendered futile in this way, and that undermining of the walls availed them nothing.
Behold, Count Robert of Normandy had arrived. All these besieged the city, placing their tents nearby. On one side Bohemond and Tancred had besieged it; next to them Duke Godfrey, with his brother Baldwin and Eustace. Then the Count of Flanders, a vigorous man and a most bold soldier. Next to him also Count Robert of Normandy and Stephen of Chartres, and the Count of Saint-Pol, and Conan son of Count Geoffrey, and Ralph of Guader, and Roger of Barneville, and many others. At the southern gate, the Count of Toulouse and the Bishop of Le Puy, as has been said, kept watch. Thus they had surrounded it on all sides, so that no one could enter or leave, except where the lake bordered the city. For through the lake, in full view of the Christians, they sailed securely and transported their necessities by ship. Moreover, the army of Christ had besieged the city in this manner.
O beautiful camps! O majestic tents! Who has ever seen such tabernacles? Let that flattering tale of Troy fall silent, let those tents of the Pelasgians become worthless, let the deeds and names of those heroes be obscured henceforth. There Ulysses exercised his cunning; Ajax displayed his boldness; Achilles demonstrated his harshness. Here the Christians showed forth dove-like simplicity, and in arms they practiced a pure and glorious warfare: pure in character, vigorous in body, courageous in heart they fought; indeed they guarded their souls, and by the desires and pleasures of the flesh they renounced all that was unlawful; they shone in arms, and especially in the adornment of their conduct they were most becoming.
I confess, and I confess truly, that if Balaam (Numbers 24:3) had been worthy to be present at so beautiful a spectacle, he would have preferred these tents to the tents of Israel. For in the Christian camps, not even Phinehas would have found a Midianite woman (Numbers 25:6) whom he would have had to run through with a dagger; nor would the malignant serpent have had anyone to torment on account of his malice. To put it briefly, that army was the likeness of the beautiful Church; and in form, so that we may not rashly presume that Solomon sang of such a thing: "Behold, you are beautiful, my beloved, like the tents of Kedar, like the curtains of Solomon" (Song of Songs 1:4).
In this expedition indeed the leaders themselves served as soldiers, the leaders themselves kept watch, so that you could not tell how a leader differed from a soldier, or a soldier from a leader. Moreover, there was so great a sharing of all things, that scarcely anyone would call anything his own; but, as in the early Church, nearly all things were held in common among them. Brothels and houses of ill repute they had banished entirely far from their camps, and they debated especially about the honesty of morals. Yet women lived there among the men, but either in marriage or in lawful service. For if anyone was convicted of any dishonesty, he was either rebuked to his face, so that fear might be struck into the rest, or harsh punishment was exacted from him: for the bishops preached daily about continence, and they abominated every form of fornication and abuse from the midst of the camps.
Those camp-dwellers eagerly exposed themselves to the swords of the enemy on behalf of their brothers; and they rejoiced in a wondrous manner if they were deemed worthy to die in avenging the injuries done to their neighbors.
O France, to be exalted above all lands! How beautiful are your tents, behold, in the land of the Romans! From western Europe you seized the road under arms, and in Asia you have set up your tents and the pegs of your canopies. May God preserve and make eternal this unanimity of your good will; so that you may proceed safely to Jerusalem, for which you sigh.
The Turks meanwhile were laboring both to defend the city and were in no way ceasing from the restoration of the walls.
Besieged on all sides by land, they entrusted themselves to the lake. They went and came back in full view of the Christians, nor could however great the Frankish army harm them. But who escaped the vigilant resourcefulness of the Franks? The Franks, men most prudent in all things, took counsel that they might deprive the townspeople even of the lake. And so they directed their embassy to Constantinople, which by its more ancient name was called Byzantium, whence even now we call the coins of that city Byzantine denarii, so that the emperor, by his sovereign authority, would direct a considerable fleet to Civitot, where there was a suitable port; and since delay is harmful to those who are prepared, he should interpose no delays in sending it.
"Moreover," they said, "send us oxen and wagons, for transporting the boats through the mountains and forests all the way to the lake. For if you act in this manner, you will without doubt recover the city of Nicaea, which we have besieged, which the Turks violently seized from you: for they have no escape, if we cut off their navigation."
By the emperor's command, oxen were hastily brought, and swift-sailing ships arrived at the port of Civitot; the emperor's Turcopoles also came. The boats were placed upon wagons, with oxen serving this labor, and with great effort were brought down to the shore of the lake. But on that day they did not wish to launch them into the lake, because they judged it more advantageous to wait for nightfall. They appear to have done this so that they might approach the city through the lake unexpectedly; and seize the garrison's boats while they were unaware.
As the sun was setting and night falling upon the earth, they launched the boats into the lake and entrusted them to the Turcopoles. At the whitening dawn of day, ploughing the lake, they steered their sterns in orderly fashion toward the city. The citizens, seeing from afar the lake covered with ships, marveled; and they suspected that perhaps reinforcements were coming to them. But after they were assured that those ships were arrayed against them, and that passage by their own boats was no longer open to them as yesterday and the day before, they stiffened with fear, and drained of blood they despaired: for to those thrown into confusion by the sudden turn of events, everything had happened contrary to hope.
By rebelling they could no longer resist in any way, those upon whom innumerable peoples had converged: for the city, besieged by land and lake, there was no hope of safety; no place of escape, except, what lies before all the vanquished, the disgrace of surrender. Unknown weapons terrified them, and the very gleam of arms drained the courage of the besieged: they knew the Frankish nation to be fierce and warlike; and that they would not desist from their undertaking until everything had turned out according to their desire. They knew those to be utterly merciless, whom they themselves had provoked as the destroyers of their people.
Therefore, deliberating about the imminent danger, they send envoys to the emperor, and they make it known that he should respond to them under the terms of surrender. "Let your imperial pledge, not to be violated, make us secure," they said, "regarding our families and our small possessions, and receive the surrendered city under the compact of your protection; command that we may depart with impunity, and we will return your city to you. Protect us from these butchers who will yet grievously harass you, and have us presented before your eyes. We will obey your commands, if you equally respond to our wishes; let it be permitted for us to serve you; let it be permitted for us to fight, alive under your rule, or to fight against those rising against your person. Do not hold it against us that while it was permitted we fought against you, for then we were living by the law of war: make us beholden to you by granting us life; from enemies prepare us as devoted servants to you. If, God forbid, hereafter you find us ungrateful, repay our ingratitude with fitting punishment, our bodies flogged and finally our heads cut off. For we shall be all the more faithful to you, the more indebted you make us through your benefits. Let the generous liberality of the emperor spare the vanquished and subdue the proud."
When the emperor heard these things — the outcome of events later proved him secretly envious of the Christians' progress — satisfying the embassy of the besieged, he commanded his attendants that they should lead those who were surrendering themselves and their possessions unharmed to Constantinople, and should take careful charge of preserving the city. Everything was done according to the emperor's command, and the city was surrendered, and the pagan people were led unharmed to the imperial city: which, as has been said, the emperor received not merely as captives, but with the honor of freedom, and honored them, educated with great munificence.
He is said to have done this so that he might attach those he had freed to himself, and invite others to surrender, and at an opportune time incite them against the Christians; and through those of whom he was secretly envious, when occasion presented itself, he might rebel. Nevertheless he bestowed many gifts upon the poor Christians, so that in this way he might disguise with a secret pretense what he was hiding within himself, and reserve his schemes and machinations for the future through suitable stratagems.
When the city was surrendered, the Christian people withdrew from the siege. Many Christians died there, some by famine, some by the sword, some by any number of other forms of destruction. These, however, they consider to have been crowned with a blessed martyrdom, since they gave up their bodies out of compassion for their brothers. Of the pagans too, through the various events of battles, through the onslaughts and misfortunes of raiders, you could see many slaughtered bodies, and find many unburied corpses scattered about. For the space of seven weeks and three days, the Christians remained there; and when the city was taken, or rather surrendered, they directed their steps elsewhere.
For the emperor had commanded that the property of that city should not be distributed; they would not have wished to spend so many days there, since, having expended their resources and many days in vain, as it seemed, they had sacrificed everything to the emperor, in that they had either shed their blood or had vastly diminished the wealth they had brought; nor did they even enjoy the rich spoils which they had acquired through many kinds of death. Therefore they regretted the long siege, since they had not gained dominion over the city, in the manner of a subjugated town; for if at least the property of the enemies had been distributed, both the poverty of the needy would have been relieved, and the expenses consumed would have been somewhat repaired. Therefore they did not bear Alexius's command with equanimity; and yet since they could accomplish nothing at that time, they deferred the matter.
Here first the seedbed of hatreds was laid bare; here the fuel of enmities was discovered; here the incitements of discords began to sprout; here the phantoms of rivalries were seen to grow. For since Alexius had not dealt rightly with them, they themselves were thinking of vengeance against him.
Here therefore let the first book be closed, where, the first city having been conquered, although they did not obtain it as they had wished, the Christian army prepares to go and campaign elsewhere. Let the Christians go on their way meanwhile, and let us gird ourselves for the work we have begun, with the light of the rising dawn.
Book Two
On the day the siege was lifted, they came to a certain bridge, where the Christian army pitched its tents. They spent two days there: but on the third day, before the morning star began to grow pale, they hastily took up their march, and because the night was dark, uncertain men seized an uncertain road. Divided therefore from one another, they completed a journey of two days, Bohemond and Robert of Normandy and the Count of Blois, Stephen and Tancred, as well as the Count of Saint-Paul, and Walter of Saint-Valery, and Bernard his son, and Gerard of Gournay, and William, son of the Viscount Ranulf, and William of Ferrieres, and Hervey, son of Dodeman, and Conan, son of Count Geoffrey, and Ralph of Gaer, and Alan his son, and Riold of Loheel, and Alan the steward of the holy Church of the Archbishop of Dol, and many others were in one column.
In the other column were the Count of Toulouse and the Bishop of Le Puy, and Duke Godfrey, and Baldwin, and Hugh the Great, and the Count of Flanders, with abundant swarms of travelers. On the following day after the second hour, Turks, innumerable as the sand of the sea, swarmed against Bohemond. Seeing the Christians, confident indeed in their great number, they fearlessly attacked them all together. For anger and fury animated them; they were also indignant that foreigners were ravaging their possessions; finally they bore it very ill that they had presumed to storm Nicaea.
But Bohemond, seeing the innumerable multitude of enemies, threatening and assailing his men with swift mouth and fierce sword, stood undaunted, and said to his companions with wise counsel: "Most valiant soldiers of Christ, behold, the time for fighting has come. Cast away all fear, which effeminates even men, and manfully see to your own defense; endure tirelessly the blows of those attacking you, and trusting in the aid of Jesus Christ, stretch forth your warlike hands, and behold, while there is time, display the valor of your ancestors. Let not, I beseech you, the glory of the Franks be dishonored through our negligence; let not the holy name of Christians become worthless through our sloth. The matter is desperate, war is upon us, a great enemy is nearby; yet nothing has befallen you beyond your hope or your will: all things have turned out for you according to your desire. For this you left your homeland; for this you came: You have always desired battle." "Behold what you have long wished and prayed for; behold they have surrounded us on all sides. But, O unbroken race, O most unconquered people! Do not be afraid, for God is truly with us. If anyone is fearful, let him, placed in this strait, borrow a bold spirit for himself, or at least, out of shame, let him conceal his fear. Now there is need for arms and courage; this is not the time for laziness or inexperience. Why do I delay with words? Let each man now speak to himself."
He then orders the tents to be quickly set up and commands the allies who had withdrawn some distance from him to come forward to help them. "For the unavoidable peril of death presses upon us," he said, "unless you hasten. The report of the battle is not uncertain, which we behold with our eyes, which we feel with our weary bodies. Come now, Christians, hurry, and defend both us and your commonwealth: the danger in which we find ourselves is shared, the crisis in which we labor is common." Then he said: "You who are foot soldiers, fix the tents energetically and prudently; you who are knights, advance with me to meet them and endure the labor of combat without tiring. We have come as warriors for Christ; in this battle of Christ let us not falter. Let each man say to himself what he knows must be done in such a matter."
Meanwhile the Turks came shouting, and whether by shooting arrows or hurling javelins, or fighting at close quarters, they harassed the Christians most fiercely; no rest was given to the weary; but you could see all the Christians' bodies dripping with either blood or sweat. The Franks on the other hand bore the weight of the battle without ceasing; sometimes prudently delayed their charges against the enemy; at times resisted with swords; waited for the allies they had summoned and did not waver in anything.
This violence of battle the Christians endured from the third hour of the day until the ninth hour. On that day women were absolutely essential to the fighters: for they both swiftly offered water to the thirsty, and strengthened the combatants with their encouragement.
The field of Mars had grown white-hot, for on both sides they fought with all their strength: the Christians were hard pressed, for they were frequently attacked even in their own camp. The other army was disbelieving Bohemond's messengers, doubting the certainty of the battle. For they did not believe there was any nation that would dare to aspire to battle against even a tenth part of their army. But after this rumor had spread through the entire army and messengers were added upon messengers, the duke, as he was a most fierce soldier, and also Count Stephen, a prudent and modest man, and Hugh the Great flew to their aid with their fellow soldiers; Baldwin too and Eustace his brother, fearlessly flew to help with their fellow soldiers; the Bishop of Le Puy followed close behind them, and Count Raymond of Toulouse.
The hearts of the Christians, now growing weary, wondered from where so great a nation, and so suddenly, had emerged against them beyond all expectation. For they had covered the mountains and valleys, and wherever there were plains, everything was thronged with dense wedges of troops. For there were Saracens, Agulani, and Persians, whose number they reckoned at three hundred and sixty thousand, besides the Arabs, whose numbers were countless.
Meanwhile the needed help was longed for and awaited. Therefore they said: "Oh, if only it would come!" And they said to each other: "Let us keep secret what we eagerly believe; with God's help today we shall triumph over these who now so fiercely harass us; today we shall be enriched and shall rejoice from their riches: let us meanwhile be silent and endure."
In this way they encouraged each other; and with swords drawn and brandished unto death, the matter was settled only by action. And had God not been present then in the camps of his own, and prepared reinforcement for those now exhausted, that very day would have produced the end of the entire expedition.
Suddenly those allies whom they had summoned appeared. The Bishop of Le Puy with his great army seized the enemy from behind; on another side, the Count of Saint-Gilles and Baldwin and Eustace rode swiftly; from the right Duke Godfrey charged in, and Hugh the Great, and Robert of Flanders, in every way a most skilled soldier. For Robert of Normandy was already fighting alongside Stephen of Blois, as well as Tancred and Baldwin.
The pagans, stunned because they were unexpectedly pressed by the enemy both from the front and from behind, entrusted themselves to flight; and they agreed with those yielding to turn their backs. The sword of the Christians cut them down even to annihilation, and many perished by many kinds of deaths. For even those who could, hid in hiding places; many thousands of the barbarians were slaughtered there, because they furiously attacked those whom they had pursued mercilessly all day long.
William the marquis, Tancred's brother, perished on that day, and Geoffrey of Mont Scabioux, men very much soldiers, of good character and illustrious. Besides these, many knights and foot soldiers fell from among the Christians. For we do not dare to call the Turks unwarlike, who, excelling in excessive cunning, are strong in bold spirit and press on with an unyielding sword. They also very frequently inflict death on their enemies from a distance, because they use bows and rely on many instruments of war.
But yet at that time they had greatly unlearned the practice of fighting, since they had had a long time of idleness. Yet they boast that they drew their genealogy from the stock of the Franks, and that their ancestors departed from Christianity. They also say that none ought naturally to be soldiers except themselves and the Franks. If however they were to return to Christianity, then at last they would rightly glory in having sprung from the Frankish line. Let this suffice for the present, since they are without doubt men who are shrewd, ingenious, and warlike; but alas! alienated from God. Therefore that nobility from which, as they say, their descendants sprang is obscured, because they have in no way been grafted onto the true olive tree, which is Christ.
This battle took place on the Kalends of July. The Christians gave thanks to their Christ, who snatched them from the hands of their enemies, and filled them with his consolations. Therefore they celebrated that day as a solemn occasion, and offered praise worthy of God.
When these had been thus crushed and put to flight far away, the Christians turned to plundering their tents, since when they were fleeing it was certainly not permitted to linger there long. There was found there a very great quantity of both gold and silver, pack animals, mules and horses, oxen and camels, sheep and donkeys, and an abundant supply of equipment in their pavilions; and laden with various treasures, with triumph and indescribable joy, they returned to their own people. Therefore there was great rejoicing in the Christian tents, and they held that day as a celebration, giving thanks to the one who made their way and life prosper, our Lord Jesus Christ.
A solemn victory was therefore celebrated, by which they were freed not by their own hand, but by divine power, from every distress, and filled with every abundance of goods. Nor was fame content to rouse the surrounding cities, but it began to terrify distant and foreign nations, and to pour the name of Christianity into the ears of remote peoples; the illustrious deeds of the Christians were widely published, and all and each feared that their army would come upon them.
Whence it happened that Soliman, son of the elder Soliman, fleeing from Nicaea, encountered ten thousand Arabs who, having learned that he was fleeing, said to him: "Senseless and wretched man, why do you flee?" To whom Soliman said: "Once," he said, "I thought I could overcome and conquer the Frankish people, but it turned out the other way and we were defeated, and therefore we flee wandering here and there. For we saw, or we think we saw, so vast a multitude of them, that no one would be able to estimate their forces; you could have marveled and been astonished, for they are more innumerable than the stars of heaven. Still trembling, we barely escaped their legions. Shaken by this excessive terror, quaking we can barely yet breathe. If therefore you believe us, before they catch you hiding, you will flee. For not even any small towns will be able to resist, since they have had the power to storm Nicaea, our capital."
When they had heard Soliman, they attempted to flee. But coming to the forts or cities where the Syrians dwelt, who themselves were also marked with the title of Christianity, they spoke to them deceitfully and said: "We have defeated the Franks; they have so completely failed, that we have entirely erased the memory of them from this land; if any survived they are hidden in underground passages." Thus they addressed the unsuspecting people and were received within their gates. But once inside, they plundered the towns of the unknowing, their homes and churches; whatever was precious and desirable, and sons and daughters, they carried off, and thus they mocked them everywhere; for they forestalled the arrival of the Franks, and before the latter had approached, the former had withdrawn.
When they heard this, the Christians pursued them and pressed on with their journey. But they had entered a waterless and uninhabitable land, in which they were failing from hunger and thirst even unto death. If however they chanced to find unripe crops, they plucked the ears of grain, and rubbing them, chewed and swallowed them. While many were failing even with such meager provisions, others were somehow sustained; there their pack horses and donkeys gave out, and many glorious knights were forced to go on foot; and those who could used oxen instead of vehicles, either for carrying themselves or their goods. Not long after they entered a most fertile land, filled with provisions and all good things: except that they could in no way procure fresh horses for riding.
They came then to Iconium; and by the advice of the inhabitants of that land, since that settlement suffers from a shortage of water, they filled their waterskins for refreshment; after this, having completed a day's journey, they came to a certain river, where they rested for two days as guests, refreshed. The scouts, who always ran ahead of the army either to provide for the army or to seize straw or other necessities, ran ahead to Heraclea, in which city there was a large gathering of Turks, waiting for any opportunity to harm the Christians. They had therefore set up harmful ambushes, if they could, for the scouts. The Franks boldly attacked those they found and scattered the routed enemy without difficulty. The city of Heraclea, therefore, with the Turks driven out, was immediately brought under Christian dominion; and there they spent four days.
There Tancred separated himself from the others, a man indeed of singular energy, and Baldwin, brother of Duke Godfrey, a man in no way unlike Tancred in valor; and with their forces they entered the valley of Betrentot. But Tancred, again separated from Baldwin, came to Tarsus with his soldiers. The Turks, advancing from the city, met them prepared to resist. Tancred manfully cut down those who attacked him hostilely, and drove those who fled back into the very city by fighting.
Tancred, however, a man equally fearless in all things, with loosened reins pitched camp near the walls of the city. Without delay Baldwin was there, requesting that he join him in a friendly manner to capture the city; which Tancred absolutely forbade. On the following night, the Turks left the city and took flight. The inhabitants of that city, at the very turning-point of the night, having left the city after the Turks, cried out in a loud voice: "Franks, conquerors and lords of the world, the Turks have withdrawn; the city is open, come! Run, most unconquered Franks, to receive the city; run, do not delay: why do you tarry?"
The watchmen of the camp heard them shouting, neither secretly nor softly; but because it was night, both the deliberation and the matter were deferred to the next day.
At dawn, the chief men of the city came, surrendering themselves and their possessions to the Christians. Therefore wishing to quell the rivalries of the quarreling parties that they were hearing, they replied not unwisely: "Illustrious nobles, desist from these controversies for the present. We wish and pray that you come in peace; but if not, let that Tancred rule over us, who yesterday fought so gloriously against the Turks while we watched in admiration."
Baldwin would not agree, but wanted either to have it divided in half for himself, or at least to have it all distributed by common plundering. "Far be it," said Tancred, "that we should appropriate for ourselves the plundered possessions of our brothers. They themselves ask me, they themselves desire me, they themselves entrust their lives to me, and shall I, like a rapacious wolf, devour the prey committed to me? Far be this, I say, from me."
For the Syrians, who inhabited those cities, were Christians, but the Turks ruled over them. Baldwin refused to yield to Tancred's arguments, but panting for his own position, he was determined to rush headlong into the confiscation of the city. He was wholly devoted either to plundering the households, or he strove to claim half the city for himself. Neither would nor could Tancred any longer struggle against Baldwin's opposition, since the latter's forces were larger; and giving the signal and with trumpets sounding, somewhat embittered he departed. He restrained himself however, as was his moderate character regarding his anger, and in no way intended to disturb the journey to Jerusalem, even for the injuries inflicted upon him. Thus Baldwin alone obtained all of Tarsus. To Tancred, however, without delay, two excellent cities were surrendered, Azera and Mamistra, and very many castles.
The other leaders with their armies had entered the land of the Armenians. They found there a very strongly fortified town; and since they did not wish to linger there longer, they passed by without harming it and went on: for they did not think it advisable to exhaust the whole army for one castle. Not far away there was a certain city called Allia, which was immediately surrendered to those who came. A certain man of knightly rank, named Simeon, a native of that land, requested and received that city for the defense of the territory; he remained there with those he could.
Moreover the greater army passed through: they came also to Caesarea of Cappadocia, which had been razed to the ground; yet the ruins, surviving after a fashion, bore witness to how great that Caesarea had been. Departing from there, they directed their steps to another beautiful city, rich in fertile soil, Plastentia, which the Turks had besieged a short time before for three weeks; which, since it was impregnable, could in no way be stormed by the Turks. This city therefore immediately and not ungratefully opened to the Christians.
A certain Peter of Alpa, having requested it from the leaders, easily obtained this city, for protecting and winning the land, in fealty to the Holy Sepulchre, and to Christendom. It was heard during that expedition that the Turks who had besieged the city were not going far ahead of the army, intending to harm them if they could. But Bohemond, a man experienced in military affairs, having summoned from his men whichever soldiers he wished, pursued them carefully, in case he might chance to find and harm them. Yet he accomplished nothing, since he could not find them.
They came next to Coxon, a noble and wealthy city, which the inhabitants of that place, along with their Christian brothers, willingly surrendered. There the exhausted army rested for three days. It was reported to the Count of Toulouse that the Turks, who had been in charge of the garrison of Antioch, had departed and fled. Therefore, having taken counsel with his men, he chose those he would send ahead, who would diligently investigate the matter, and carefully explore the rest; for this purpose were sent men of consular rank, not ignorant of military discipline, the Viscount of Castellon, William of Montpellier, Peter of Roasa, Peter Raymond, with many soldiers.
They came then into the valley of Antioch, and there they heard otherwise: for they heard that the Turks had abundantly prepared themselves to defend the city. But Peter of Roasa, turning away from the others, entered the valley of Rugia. And finding very many Turks, he struck them hard, defeated them, and put them to flight. Those Armenians, having heard of the Christians' favorable successes and the pagans' frequent misfortunes, surrendered to Peter the city of Rusa and certain castles.
For those men things went well, but not equally so for the larger army. For having taken up the march, they advanced crawling through the mountains, extremely rough and rocky, through which neither could their ranks proceed in order as yesterday and the day before, nor was it granted to their pack animals even to crawl, but most pitifully both men and beasts were weighed down; nor indeed was there any other option for those placed in such straits but to be shaken about, laboring and failing along the pathless way.
They, from excessive sorrow, groaned, wringing their hands tightly and gnashing their teeth; horses slipped into terrible precipices, and the extremely narrow path had produced a gaping stumbling block for all; many, having lost their horses there, or their pack animals with the goods loaded upon them, were impoverished. Some sold for a paltry price either their shields or their breastplates, or their helmets; others threw them far from themselves; for there no one, even unarmed, could be unoccupied. Their one care, and not without dread, was for guiding their own bodies safely through.
After they barely escaped those calamitous straits, they turned aside to a certain city which is called Marafin. The settlers of that city, having lingered there for some time, until they might be refreshed as much as they pleased, were awaiting their lord Bohemond, who himself, as has been said, had recently departed from them to pursue the Turks.
After this they entered that renowned valley, a spacious and fertile valley, in which the royal and famous city of Antioch is situated, which is the capital and chief city of all Syria, in which the first of the apostles, Peter, adorned the pontifical chair. Now, by the hidden judgment of God, but not an unjust one, with very many churches destroyed in it, some irreverently applied to human uses, it was enslaved, alas, to Turkish abominations.
The scouts, however, who were accustomed to run ahead of the following army, drawing near to the Iron Bridge, found innumerable Turks, hastening greatly toward Antioch. And so, making a sudden attack upon them, for the Christians always traveled armed, they routed them in a sudden clash. Thus, having destroyed many, they brought back to their own camp, which they had pitched upon the bank of the river, their pack mules which they had been leading to the city, loaded in many ways with provisions and various treasures.
Therefore there was immense joy in the camp, both for the victory and on account of the excellent spoils which the scouts had brought back to them, and they did not cease to give thanks to God, lest they appear ungrateful, by whose help they acknowledged such happy successes happened to them. Therefore they said: Not to us, Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory (Psalm 115). Daily therefore and continuously they rendered praises to God, and with devout prayers and humble hearts they implored him as the protector of all their undertakings.
Bohemond, never yielding to laziness or drowsiness (for he was a restless man), came secretly with four thousand soldiers near the gate of Antioch, watching for anyone who might secretly enter or leave. At earliest dawn the army struck their tents from the place where they were, took up the march, and approached Antioch; and on the fourth day of the week, the twelfth of the Kalends of November, they set up their tents, and from three gates they manfully besieged the city.
For on another side it was in no way besieged, because it was hemmed in by such extended and inaccessible cliffs and mountains, that no place there lent itself to besieging. So great a terror, moreover, had seized the Antiochenes and all those positioned roundabout, that none of them dared to await the approach of the scouts. And so they were silent for nearly fifteen days.
The land which lay around Antioch, since it is a fertile valley, was most productive, filled with vineyards, delightful with fruits and crops, wooded with trees, rich in gardens, abundant in pastures. In the city there were many Armenians and Syrians; they were indeed Christians, but very much subject to the Turks; they, pretending to flee, boldly went out into the camps, begging and asking for public alms.
These, since their women were inside the city, returned to their familiar homes; and as malicious spies, whatever they heard in the camps, they faithfully reported to the Turks: which is said to have harmed the Christians considerably: For nothing harms those at war more than for the enemy to learn their secrets; and to prepare countermeasures against preparations, and to frustrate or forestall the enemy's plans.
When the plans of the camp-dwellers were revealed to the Antiochenes, they began little by little to sally forth boldly from outside and to press hard upon the pilgrim people by attacking them. For they would attack and slaughter, if they prevailed, the unwary; and, having committed their raids, they either returned to the city, or withdrew unharmed to safer places. Thus they besieged all the roads round about, so that everything was closed off to the Christians both from the sea and from the mountains. And so it happened that now those who were outside were besieged worse than those who lurked within.
There was not far from there a rather well-fortified castle, named Areth, where those who frequently attacked the Christians dwelt. When the leaders learned of this, they grieved greatly over the hostile raids, because those wicked men had dared to draw bloody swords against the holy people. For already many had perished by the ambushes of the natives. Therefore they sent men who would confront the Turks, and lure them while they themselves pretended to retreat.
For Bohemond, wholly devoted to warfare, hid in ambush; and the Christians, seeing the Turks pursuing them most fiercely and feigning flight, as they had been taught, in the most compact manner turned their backs, and deliberately veered toward where Bohemond lay hidden. Nevertheless, in that clash or rather flight, two Christian knights were killed.
Moreover Bohemond, that most valiant warrior, rose up swiftly from the place where they had turned aside; and attacking the Turks, he killed many of them, and kept some alive, whom he ordered to be solemnly beheaded before the gate of the city as a spectacle. He is said to have done this so that those who were in the city, because of their punished fellow tribesmen, would be terrified, and perhaps thereby be dissuaded from harassing the Franks.
For often when punishments are inflicted on some, others are paralyzed with fear. Yet those who were in the city, more savage than ever, often ascended the taller towers, shot arrows at the Christians from the battlements, and by whatever means they could, drove them far from the city. For their arrows flew as far as Bohemond's tents; indeed a woman struck by an arrow died there, because the Christians had placed their camps near the city.
Having taken counsel again, the camp-dwellers built a fort on the summit of the mountain called Maregard, which overlooked Bohemond's tents, by which their camp might be protected from Turkish raids: which, in the succession of days, each of the leaders guarded in the order of his turn.
Meanwhile provisions were running low, because they neither dared to go out scouting, nor had they a market; for what they had found in the valley, since they had not planned for the morrow, they had consumed. Yet in their camp a small amount remained, which daily diminished as it was used up. And so food was extremely expensive. And already the feast of the Lord's Nativity was approaching.
Those leaders spoke to one another, about to take counsel by which the people might be fed. For with paternal affection the greater men supported the lesser. Already indeed famine was growing terrible, since all provisions were failing from day to day. Therefore they said: "Let a part of us go far out to forage and plunder; let a part stand guard as reserves; let a part remain in the camp, and let us leave nothing untried. Soldiers of Christ, let us never grow lukewarm in idleness. Why indeed do we delay? Already now the Christian people, in large part, are in peril."
Bohemond therefore was the first to add: "If it seems sound to you, nobles and lords, I and the Count of Flanders will go out, and if God provides anything, you shall see; meanwhile keep watch over the camp, and do nothing negligently." The counsel was approved, and the council was dissolved. Therefore, having celebrated Christ's Nativity with due care, the Count of Flanders and Bohemond went forth armed, not without the tears of those remaining, and with them more than twenty thousand soldiers and foot soldiers, and they swiftly dispersed through the Saracen settlements.
The Saracens, however, and the Arabs and Turks, from Jerusalem and Damascus and from the towns of many other regions, had assembled, vast peoples, to come to the aid of Antioch. Hearing that the Christians had scattered through their territory, they were greatly pleased, hoping that they would certainly prevail over them, inasmuch as they supposed them to be few and foreign. Therefore in the dead of night, they drew up two battle lines in ambush, one in front and the other behind; so that at dawn, when they attacked them, the Christians could not escape in either direction, but rather they were pressed upon from both sides. The Count of Flanders, a man powerful in arms, and Bohemond charged against them together, and invoking the name of Jesus and raising the sign of the holy cross which they always carried before them, they fought most steadfastly and grievously afflicted their enemies. Many of them therefore died; but the Christians were little enriched by their spoils, for they had no leisure either to pursue or to plunder them. Meanwhile the Turks, who were stationed in the garrison of the city, hearing that Bohemond had departed, came out of the city more boldly, and were already running through the camp itself. They therefore scouted out where the more vulnerable tents might be found.
On a certain day, therefore, they burst unanimously into the camp and attacked the Christians hand-to-hand together. For they had not yet heard that their own men had been defeated. On that day, therefore, many of the Christians were killed, since those Ishmaelites fiercely held their ground in the camp. On that day the Bishop of Le Puy lost his standard-bearer, who carried his banner; and had it not been for the muddy ravines that separated the city from the camp, and made passage either impossible or difficult, they would have freely ridden over the very tents and raged against the Christian people, who had already somewhat withered.
Bohemond, returning from the Saracen regions after the battle was finished, but having found little to plunder, climbed other mountains, hoping perhaps to find something elsewhere that might benefit either his companions or those waiting for him as plunder. But the land had already been reduced to such devastation that many returned empty-handed. They had therefore labored in vain, except that they had solemnly triumphed over the Turks. But no victory extinguishes hunger where everything that must be eaten is lacking. Joy is short-lived when the scarcity of bread brings sorrow. They returned, however, to the camp, which dreadful famine was ravaging.
The Armenians and Syrians, people native to that land and insatiably greedy for profit, seeing that the Christians had returned empty-handed, ran about to advantageous and more remote places, and buying up whatever food they found, brought it to the camp; and they sold at a high price what they had purchased cheaply. Indeed, they sold the load of a single donkey for eight gold coins, which when appraised were worth one hundred and twenty silver shillings. Disease therefore was contaminating the camp; and everywhere those who lacked the means to buy were dying of calamitous hunger. Those who were wealthier, however, bestowed many gifts on the needy and on those begging from door to door. But still they could not sustain so many thousands for many days. Some therefore thought of deserting the camp.
William the Carpenter and Peter the Hermit therefore conspired to flee secretly: and they fled; but Tancred found and seized them, and having shamefully rebuked them, compelled them to return to the enemy. For he extorted from them an oath and pledge that they would return and make satisfaction to their brothers; William was led to Bohemond's tents. Bohemond restrained him with reproachful words and chastised him with fitting rebukes. He said therefore: "What, O disgrace and reproach of all France, have you presumed to do? Why did you wish to weaken the hearts of your brothers, so that by your example they would abandon the enemy of God, never to return? Did you alone seize upon cowardly fear for yourself, so that you might escape unharmed while leaving us behind? Most wretched of all men, it was fitting for you to remain in the Camp of God, and to lay down your glorious life for your brothers. Now therefore, all the days of your life upon earth you shall be disgraced."
Meanwhile the Franks approached Bohemond; and they pleaded for William whom he held, and he yielded to them promptly: nevertheless, that he would not henceforth depart, William swore with their approval. At that time also the horses of the Christians had failed to such an extent that scarcely a thousand knights could be found in the whole great army who had horses to ride; for men and horses alike suffered the same hardship, nor was there any hope of escape, unless God would show mercy to them as they sighed and cried out. For their hearts and mouths fled to the Lord; and because they had despaired of earthly help, they had placed all their hope in God.
In this way God was rebuking them mercifully, so that they might be converted to him with their whole heart; and if any impenitence lurked in them, they might be purged, refined by the fire of compunction and the misfortune of approaching necessity. The famine was increasing day by day; and all were wasting away, terrified with fear. Adding to the terror was rumor, that harbinger of evil and amplifier of reports, which foretold that the Turks were about to arrive. A certain man, a Greek by nationality from Constantinople, named Tatikios, had come from the emperor's side, and held command over the soldiers whom the emperor had sent to the army. This man, his courage more dissolved than the rest by fear of death, came to the chief men; and concealing what he enormously feared, he began to speak to them thus:
"I see you, distinguished leaders, placed in the greatest anxiety and surrounded by every hardship: all provisions have been consumed, the horses are dead, the camp is besieged. We who besiege are more gravely besieged than those whom we besiege: they ride, they run about, they attack us fiercely: we are surrounded on all sides so that we dare not go out at all. We expect no helper. All trade is blocked from us. To endure this for long is nothing other than to waste away moment by moment. I pity your generosity, esteemed fathers, who have come from the farthest regions of the earth to die in these foreign nations, unless you either believe me or find better counsel. Whose iron heart would not be moved by the decline of so many Christians? Believe me, esteemed fathers; I do not speak of unknown things: I am in a land not unknown to me. I could well enough look after myself, if I were thinking of deserting you. But let my soul be blotted from the book of the living, if I ever withdraw myself from your holiness; unless I shall always share in your necessities: but meanwhile my soul is weary of your miseries and unless I shall be able to aid you, I shall die wholly in bitterness. Accept therefore my counsel, while I speak well. I do not wish, while alive, as has been previously stated, to withdraw from the enemy, unless I had devised something better to benefit our comrades. I am, as you know, a servant of the emperor; I am known to the entire Greek nation. A thought has therefore arisen in my heart which, although it is troublesome and laborious for me, I share with you. I am prepared to fly both to the ports and to the emperor; and to direct an imperial decree there, so that all may hasten to your aid; that they may bring flour and wine, meat and cheese in abundance; and whatever provisions the emperor's loyal subjects have, let them supply to you generously. I shall also endeavor to bring back very many horses, God willing. But lest you distrust me, I speak in truth: whatever I voluntarily offer, I shall faithfully carry out. Moreover, I leave here my tents and my companions, as I shall soon return, and I swear upon these sacred things that I shall pursue all this in good faith."
Thus he swore, and departed. For the multitude believed him, and the whole people earnestly entreated him to hasten his return. But he departed, and the vile perjurer never returned. For by this pretext he looked after his own most wretched life. Meanwhile the impoverished people were secretly slipping away, going wherever they thought they could survive. No one dared proceed to the sea, since the roads and pathless ways were guarded. But ships had sailed into the port which could have helped them, if access to them could be opened.
Behold, once again a fresh rumor spread that countless Turks were approaching, and that the onslaught of death was immediately threatening everyone. For they were so numerous that scarcely a space of many stadia extending in every direction would suffice for them. Behold, once again a new terror -- suddenly they were afraid, as if they had never been afraid before; they grew pale, heartless and bloodless, and many of them hung their withered necks. Nevertheless the nobility took counsel about battle. All the chief men whom we mentioned above had gathered together; all were encouraging one another for battle, since among them neither anyone lukewarm nor anyone fainthearted was to be found. Bohemond, however, bringing forth his counsel, added:
"I see you all, thanks be to God, of one mind, and no one dissents from another in this matter. I therefore think it superfluous to lead so many chief men, so many prudent men through roundabout arguments, whom I already see united in the same will. You all yearn for battle, you all believe it will profit the common salvation. And I indeed approve the same; I vehemently urge the same. For I ask that we not die like the idle or the unwarlike: let us not be the reproach or the disgrace of all Christians. If it falls to us to die, let us at least die gloriously in battle. It is the same if we die without glory as if we were compared to senseless beasts, made like brute cattle. For as regards the people of God who have entrusted themselves to us, we shall be seen to die greatly. What difference is there between master and servant, noble and commoner, rich and poor, knight and foot soldier, unless our counsel who preside over them is of benefit, and our aid serves as protection? If the Turks shall rule over me with impunity, I no longer wish to live. You, lords of consular rank and illustrious men, light and flower of victorious France, glory and mirror of the fighting soldiery, fight for yourselves, and lay down your lives for your brothers. Let us invoke the name of the Lord Jesus; and either we shall rejoice in rich spoils, or we shall die a distinguished death! At least being secure about our souls, we shall not die as cowards are accustomed to die. In short, we are not so many nor so great that we can sustain two wars. But, O soldiers all, let us go forth from the camp: for this seems to me noble and useful; and let us advance fearlessly to meet them: but all you foot soldiers, remain in the camp as a defense for the camp, an obstacle to those who are in the city. All of you stay awake through the night; or in relays, let some relieve others: support yourselves and let each one of you fight for himself, indeed let one defend another: especially watch carefully the gates of the city which are before you, lest when they are opened they can freely attack you. From now on, as shall be the will in heaven, so let it be done."
With these words spoken, armed and fortified by holy communion, they advanced from the camp, not without grievous lamentations from both companies. Neither side was confident about itself -- neither priest nor woman; neither the people nor the soldier; neither these nor those hoped to henceforth enjoy the sight of one another. Both sides rushed into the kisses of their dear ones, and all were moved to tears.
The knights were encamped beside the river, which in the ancient name was called Daphne, which flows past Antioch and the lake: for they had heard that the Turks had assembled at the fortress of Harim, beyond the Iron Bridge. The chief men gathered before dawn; for, pressed by such great danger, they had been unable to sleep. And as the first dawn broke, they sent ahead experienced scouts to report to them about the Turks. Without delay they saw them advancing from the other bank of the river. They had formed two large battle lines. Behind followed their greatest strength. The scouts therefore quickly returned, shouting: "What need is there for words? Behold them -- do not delay, for they are near."
The chief men spoke about ordering the battle, and entrusted that matter to Bohemond. "Come now," said Bohemond, "each of you rally your men, and when the signal is given, let each one fight with his battle line; but when there is need for lances and swords, see the thing through; and do not forget the deeds and blows of your fathers."
Six battle lines were therefore arranged. Five of them went ahead to bear the weight of battle and to drive back the enemy force by striking effectively. Bohemond, last with his own battle line, advanced gradually, ready to provide for and come to the aid of all; and if the Turks should prevail against the leading ranks, to take upon himself the whole onslaught of war. Trumpets blared, horns resounded, the shouting of both multitudes was heard; and now shield was striking shield, now boss was repelling boss; with spears shattered, swords were being battered, and both legions pressed on hand-to-hand. Then came the Turkish reinforcements, who began to press the Christians hard. The Franks could not withstand such a charge of so many marshaled nations; but wavering, they were forced to give way. For the shouting and din were so great, and the rain of missiles so heavy, that they even obscured the very air. Bohemond groaned, he who was watching them from every side as if he were all eyes, and said: "O Christ, sustain your Christians." And he added: "Robert" -- for Robert, son of Gerard, had been carrying his banner -- "spur your swift steed with spurs; and be fearless aid to the faltering Christians. Remember, I beseech you, our parents, and do not in any way tarnish the gleaming honor of the Franks. Know that heavenly aid will come to us at once: but God wills that we, like strong athletes, should earn and win the prize."
Robert, fortified by the sign of the holy cross and surrounded by auxiliary companies, was there with the greatest speed; and, a most daring soldier, he stood against the bloodied Turks. For he attacked those treacherous foes so vigorously that he made the streamers of Bohemond's banner flutter in the faces of the Turks, and with his loud battle cry deterred the Turks to some degree. At the charge and shout of that chief centurion, the Franks, taking heart again, rushed unanimously upon the Turks; and with daggers brandished they pressed more fiercely upon those who pressed them: the crash of arms was great, and from the bronze helmets, laboriously wrought fire sparked forth: wounds were struck upon wounds, and the fields were purpled with excessive blood. You could see entrails hanging loose; you could see severed heads and mutilated bodies falling everywhere.
The Turks were therefore terrified with excessive fear; and suddenly, as their ranks gave way, they committed themselves to flight. The Christians therefore pursued them beyond the Iron Bridge, laying low, trampling, slaughtering. Many Turkish soldiers were cut down there: for that battle had not included infantry. The Christians, having won a great trophy, returned to their own, bringing with them many horses, which they particularly needed; and much spoil which they themselves had won by their own hand in battle: there was therefore great joy in the camp, and all gave thanks worthy of God.
The Turks, however, returned to their fortress of Harim, quite ingloriously, with broken spirit and downcast faces. Stripping it entirely, they set it on fire and fled. When the Armenians and Syrians saw this, they seized the narrow passes; and they inflicted great harm on the fleeing Turks: for they killed many of them, and even brought some back alive, and they also surrendered the aforementioned fortress, subjugated, to the Christians.
The Franks also brought to the camp one hundred heads of the slain, for the consolation of their own people and for the dismay of the besieged; which they also presented to the envoys of the emir of Babylon, who had then been sent from Babylon to them and were staying beside them in their own tents. Moreover, those who had remained in the camp had fought all day against the Antiochenes: since they had unceasingly guarded three gates of the city, lest the enemy should burst forth.
This battle took place on the Ides of February, a Tuesday, which preceded the beginning of the Lenten fast.
Those who had fortified the city, more bitterly provoked to anger, attacked the Christians more ardently; and they in no way ceased from their raids against them. And although they had hitherto always been defeated in battles -- some killed, some wounded, some captured, all the rest routed and scattered -- nevertheless so great was the multitude in the city that they incessantly harassed the camp itself; they frequently leapt forth, and more frequently still they brought death upon them by whatever means.
The Christians besides this were afflicted by great hardships: for they dared neither abandon the siege nor advance far from the camp. The surrounding regions had been reduced to such desolation that they provided them with no supply of provisions. The Turks, indeed, who knew well the advantages of the terrain, both ran about foraging for grain and more attentively laid ambushes for the Christians. Moreover, whatever cities, whatever fortresses, whatever towns, every man, every woman; all who were either near or far were hostile to the Christians. Every route was blocked, lest by chance merchants should reach them. And so they were imperiled by a dreadful shortage of food.
The nobility therefore, in order to look after the common people, were mercifully anxious. They said therefore: "You see that we are making no progress. This city is impregnable. We cannot even surround it. It abounds internally with an abundance of provisions. We on the outside are endangered by calamitous famine. Nearly more are hiding inside than we who are outside. Yet, if they were to speak of battle, we would gladly hear it. Behold, the very walls, even if the defenders sleep, protect them. Before our eyes, they run about everywhere. In the end, what evil do they suffer? Rather, we suffer, who are so grievously hemmed in; let us therefore do one thing, which will benefit us all and, it seems, will harm them above all. You see that mosque, built before the gate of the city? There is a bridge there that is sufficiently convenient for their supply routes. Let us therefore erect a fort there, and once it is fortified, we shall more easily be able to resist them and to come to the aid of our people: for after our enemies have lost both the bridge and the crossing, we shall move about more freely and securely, and even pass the night more safely in the camp."
This speech therefore seemed good in their eyes. To them the Count of Toulouse said: "Let us do," he said, "as you say, and build the fortress: and I shall guard it once it is fortified." Bohemond also added: "If my counsel seems acceptable to you, esteemed fathers, let us go to the port of Saint Symeon: for I too shall go with you, and I shall bring that force, however small, which awaits us there, which may faithfully come to our aid and effectively accomplish this destined work. There are many ships there, and many of our companions: but though summoned they do not dare to approach, because all the places are full of impious brigands. Let us therefore be soldiers, always confident in battle, and let us be cautious and provident for those whom we shall bring to our aid; but those who remain with the baggage, let them not negligently attend to the defense of the camp, and let them persist unfailingly in the designated work. Nothing must be undertaken sluggishly. But this and that must be vigorously attempted."
The Count of Saint-Gilles joined Bohemond: and they hastened to the port of Saint Symeon. Those who remained in the camp, girded with swords, prepared themselves unanimously to begin building the fortress.
The Turks, no less ready, and not inferior in number or in arms, fearlessly met the Franks. They attacked the Christians so fearlessly therefore that they drove them to flight, and killed many. There was therefore great sorrow in the camp: they mourned in their tents, and on that day they were silent.
The Turks, finally, having learned that the Count of Toulouse and Bohemond had departed for the port, having suitably positioned secret ambushes, plotted how they might harm the Christians. Behold, the Christians were returning from the port, bringing with them a force neither well-armed nor very warlike: the Saracens, surrounding and encircling them on all sides, attacked them savagely and endeavored to assail them with every kind of missile barrage. They therefore struck them now with arrows, now with swords, now with lances, now with javelins. They cut them down without mercy, and shouted against them gnashing their teeth.
The Christians, being few, could not endure the cruelty of those raging men any longer; and since they could not fight back, they were compelled by flight to snatch themselves away. Those who could either hide or escape, survived alive; others, overtaken by a lethal fate, alas, fell. More than a thousand Christians were therefore slain in that conflict: and behold, doubled grief was mounting in the camp: yesterday and today the pagans had triumphed over Christendom; behold, with the pagans insolently exalting and rejoicing, sorrowful Christendom was humbled today. Such, however, are the outcomes of wars, such are the vicissitudes both of men and of times. No one has ever always succeeded happily, no one has ever rejoiced or will rejoice in continuous prosperity. For this reason, adversity must be guarded against in prosperity, and prosperity must be hoped for and desired in adversity.
The rumor of the Christians having been defeated had filled the ears of those who had remained; and therefore all the people equally were lamenting. For they did not know whom to consider alive or whom dead. Very many, however, creeping through the mountains, had escaped, and returned to the tents as quickly as possible. Bohemond, however, returning by a shorter route, preceded the Count of Toulouse; and as a true reporter, he announced the defeat of the Christians.
The Christians, however, more aroused to anger than terrified, went out unanimously against the Turks and attacked them manfully: on the other side the Saracens resisted, thinking they could prevail, just as they had recently prevailed against the Count of Toulouse and Bohemond. They also believed that the Gauls had faltered from fear itself and that they themselves were growing stronger from their successful outcome. On both sides therefore the fight was most fierce. The Turks had crossed the bridge and had boldly met the Christians: the Christians, like a wild beast provoked by the bites of dogs or wounded by the point of a hunting spear, roused by the slaughter of their fellow soldiers and brothers, were thirsting eagerly for the blood of the Turks; and they were striving utterly to avenge their own.
The pagans, terrified because what had happened to them was beyond their expectation, without delay turned their backs to those striking them and tried to escape by flight: thus with the flight begun, the whole legion was disgracefully broken and was routed. The fugitives were hindered by either the narrow bridge or the swift and deep river. For they had to cross by one or the other. No one could get across the river near the bridge, and scarcely anyone could swim it. Such a multitude of riders crowded onto the bridge together that one hindered another: many suffocated one another. For they would have crossed more easily one by one than in a mass. Meanwhile, the Christians were close at hand upon the retreating foe, by no means unmindful of their brothers' and their own injuries; most eager avengers of their own spilled blood; and desirous of victory, and anxious about subjugating the city. The insatiable slayers therefore pressed upon them, and used lances and swords against them at close quarters. Whomever they could, they either hurled into the river or stabbed with lethal swords; so that the river itself both appeared bloodied and was covered over with corpses.
If any indeed were trying to swim, or were attempting to crawl around the bridge, they were killed by those pressing upon them, and were destroyed by every kind of calamity. A day of death, that day had dawned upon the pagans, in which scarcely anyone could avoid death. The Christians pressed upon the fleeing, pressed upon those trying to swim, bore down upon those who were falling. No one held his hand back from blood; but every Christian drenched his sword in the blood of the slain. Women watched from the vantage points of the walls and ramparts, both looking out upon the miseries of their own people and envying the successive victories of the Franks.
In that battle twelve princes of the Turkish forces died, whom they call emirs, illustrious and distinguished leaders; and fifteen hundred soldiers, industrious and most valiant men, who had long skillfully watched over the defense of the city. Moreover, a deep terror restrained the rest, so that henceforth they would not arrogantly shout against the Christians, or presumptuously charge against them. Dead of night brought that battle to an end. Those who were able to escape alive entered the city bloodless; nor could they thereafter recover their former strength.
The Christians also returned victorious to their own, having brought back and carried with them many horses and copious spoils, which they needed not a little. They rejoiced moreover in the Lord Jesus; and giving thanks, they were making progress for the better from day to day.
On the following day, the Turks coming out of the city at first light collected the corpses wherever they could find them; and they buried them beyond the bridge at the mosque before the gate of the city. But very many submerged in the river they left, over whom they could say: "The river covers him who has no urn." Those whom they buried, they honored with treasures of cloaks and precious garments; and they added bows and quivers and very many gold coins to the provisions for the dead.
When the Christians learned of this, partly enticed by desire for the spoils, partly incited to inflict grief upon the Turks, they dug up the buried; and having exhumed the bodies, they insulted them quite ignominiously. Whatever desirable property was found with them, they seized; and the collected bodies they contemptuously cast into a single pit. They sent four pack-mules loaded with the heads of the slain to the port, so that the envoys from Babylon who happened to be there might see them, and grieve in astonishment. Moreover, the citizens seeing this grieved immensely, and were sorrowful even unto death. They groaned therefore all day and wailed and lamented, and grew weaker daily.
On the third day they began to build the fortress which was mentioned above; and they resolved to fortify it with the very stones which they had pulled from the tombs of the exhumed. When it was sufficiently fortified, they now hemmed in their enemies more tightly, and they persisted with complete diligence in watching that they should not by chance go outside.
The Franks, however, now safer, ran about to the mountains; and they were now more freely occupied in bringing back straw and whatever other provisions they could find. For on the other side of the river, where the Christians had not yet pitched their tents, the Turks had free passage, since they feared no Christian there. The Christians therefore took counsel among themselves: "If," they said, "some of us were there who would inhabit and defend a fortress built on that side, we would be more secure; and this city, more skillfully besieged, would more easily waste away: indeed, all ability to come and go would be denied to them, and provisions would be entirely blocked from them."
All praised this plan: yet all, and each one especially, dreaded crossing the river in order to encamp there. One and another feared for himself; nor did anyone presume to take upon himself the defense of the fortress. One, by withdrawing himself, was inviting and urging another; yet no one sought that fortress for himself. At last Tancred spoke, and he made a pact with the chief men of the Franks about guarding that fortress. Having therefore mustered his fellow soldiers, and his companies, and having joined to his fellowship whatever others he could recruit, he obtained the fortified castle; and he established how the besieged city might be sharply opposed. For his men watched the roads and pathless places; and everywhere his companions kept watch without rest.
On a certain day, as on the day before and the day before that, Syrians and Armenians were abundantly carrying whatever necessities into the city: Tancred, finding them, quickly attacked; and having seized everything they were transporting, he rejoiced victoriously in the rich spoils and provisions. From that time a fear so great invaded the city that both the citizens, and also all who were thinking of coming to the citizens' aid, were terrified. The city now lacked all supplies, and was already in peril from great misery: since it had consumed nearly everything it had, nor could anything be brought into it. For they were surrounded on all sides, and especially all passage of trade was blocked from them.
Nor, however, do we explain all the calamities suffered individually, either those endured by the townspeople or by those who dwelt in the camp: for we cannot all do everything. Both sides alternately suffered great misfortunes: more frequently, however, a fairer fortune smiled upon the camp-dwellers when they fought. For the Franks were fiercer in character, bolder by nature, and in the practice of war more experienced and wealthier; and for this purpose they had undertaken the journey to distant regions and foreign nations. Endowed therefore with perseverance, they joyfully endured whatever hardships. But in their distressing necessities they called upon God as their helper, and frequently made devout satisfaction to him for their human transgressions.
There was in the besieged city a certain emir, descended from a Turkish line, named Firuz, who had entered into a pact of friendship through faithful intermediaries with Bohemond: not that, as I believe, he had ever seen Bohemond; but because flying fame had brought many good reports of him, and he in no way doubted his prudence. Therefore, through trusted interpreters and agreed-upon signs, they frequently communicated with one another.
Bohemond would sometimes urge him toward Christianity; sometimes he would persuade him with manifold promises to surrender the city: and as a shrewd man, he left nothing unattempted. For now he would frighten him with the misfortunes threatening the city; now he would entice him with the copious rewards which God gloriously destines for Christendom.
Bohemond therefore said: "I wish, I say, to persuade you, my dearest Firuz, that you should act in all things according to the custom of true friendship: that is, that you should bury within yourself my secrets which I entrust to you; that you should keep our confidences to yourself alone, not about to betray them to anyone, and that henceforth a friend should not mistrust a friend, one who is unique should not mistrust one who is unique. Do therefore all the things we have discussed, swiftly: and think earnestly about surrendering the city to me, and about obtaining freedom for yourself, and above all about embracing Christianity. Whatever you shall wish will not be lacking to you: and we promise you whatever you shall command. If you do not do all these things, since they are both useful and honorable, you will err immensely, and you will without doubt demonstrate that you were never our friend."
With these or such words Firuz was persuaded; and lending a credulous ear to the searching embassies, he at last burst forth with these instructions. For God had already inspired him as to what he should do; and that he might respond to Bohemond according to his will, He had whispered in the ear of his heart: "I assent," he said, "to your instructions, my dearest friend. For I know you to be a modest and honorable man. Moreover, I am not unaware how greatly we ought to value the name and power of friendship, of which the highest degree is to will the same and to reject the same. Henceforth I do not want you to hold before me whatever dangers threaten the city. We are not the sort to be frightened by your threats. For the city, as you see, is impregnable. But about your Christianity, for which I ardently long, which I see as most unconquered, and which I by no means deny is glorious, I want you to speak.
"In short, to speak more briefly, and to satisfy you, I place my life in the hands of my one friend; and I entrust this city to the faith of my friend. Under my custody there are three well-fortified towers, which I shall surrender to your agents. And lest you mistrust me in anything, I shall send my son to you as a hostage, so that those you send may hasten more securely. But lest I be accused of treachery, everything I plan to do, all of it I attribute to your Christianity. But I do not want you to begin in such a way that you falter and collapse with the task unfinished: for thus death would threaten me and mine; and henceforth, no opportunity would be given to anyone for surrendering the city. Do not delay therefore, nor dissemble: for delay has harmed those who were ready: but having accepted and sharpened your plan, either abandon it entirely, or carry it through promptly."
When Bohemond heard these things, he rejoiced exceedingly: yet he restrained his face and expression for the time being, lest the inner movement of his soul be detected from unseemly joy: and speaking to the chief men, he at last opened his mouth thus: "You see, esteemed fathers, that which I cannot explain without deep sighs, how great are the calamities with which we are afflicted, how great the hardships by which this people is stricken. But why should I mention common men, when you, O scions of illustrious blood, grow pale with hunger, waste away with weariness, wither with toil? A grievous plague contaminates our camp, brought on by severe privations. For a long time now we have kept watch under the open sky, slept under the bare air: frigid nights greatly torment us: this whole land is hostile to us; the fields, reduced to desolation, are tilled with no plow or rarely.
"At the time when others will be gathering their harvests, we shall reap no ears of grain; nor do we have a market to supply sustenance for our people. The citizens, to whom this region is known, cannot be prevented from going and coming. To leave this city unconquered is shameful: and O would that we should all rather die than withdraw without the city having been surrendered or destroyed. Already resigned about unhappy outcomes, we do not know whether successful outcomes will come to us. But how long will we suffer continual death here? This city, as you see, is impregnable. For what good would battering rams do here, what good catapults, what good any siege engines for storming the city? It remains therefore that we turn to the trials of counsel, since the devices of any armed encounters are not helping us. Let each one of you therefore try, esteemed fathers, whether by money, or by friendship, or by threats, or by any means of compulsion, he can claim this city for himself: and let us willingly concede it to him who shall be able to accomplish this by whatever ingenuity.
"For why do we delay here for so long? Or what will be the benefits of the subjugated city, if before it is subjugated the entire Christian army will be destroyed by whatever manner of deaths? If therefore, best elders, you shall have judged that my counsels should be heeded, deliberate together; and let us grant and do you grant to him who can subjugate this city to himself; and pray that any one of us may effectively carry it out."
At last the eloquent hero fell silent. The response of the assembled leaders was as follows. I myself think that they had already anticipated that speech by their suspicions; that is, they supposed Bohemond had spoken as if for himself alone. For this reason they responded to him as if obliquely, in this manner: "Far be it from us," they said, "that one should be preferred over another, that is, that this city should be specially granted to any one of us. We are brothers and equals by fraternal right, and by equal lot, after we have obtained it, we shall divide it. It is worthy and just that, as we are sharers in the toil, we should be sharers also in the honor: let us storm it together, let us draw lots for it together."
With these speeches the assembly was dissolved; Bohemond, however, was silent and meanwhile the matter, having been deferred, came to no effect: therefore the eminently prudent man restrained himself, lest if he had heard something he did not wish to hear, it should be learned from the change of his expression.
Not long after, rumor, that harbinger of evil, spread through the camp that Turks, Paulicians, Agulani, Azimites, and very many other pagan nations were approaching, and had agreed upon war against the Christians; and already certain messengers had burst forth, who testified to the certainty of the threatening danger.
The Christian leaders therefore spoke among themselves, and of their own accord they proposed to Bohemond: "You see in what a critical moment our situation is placed. If therefore you can obtain this city either by entreaty or by payment, with us also helping, we unanimously grant it to you: saving in all things the oath which we made to the emperor, with your approval. If therefore the emperor shall come to our aid, and shall keep his sworn agreements, we do not wish to live as perjurers: but, with your leave be it said, we concede it to him; but if not, let it always be subject to your authority."
Bohemond immediately began with repeated messages to press Firuz; and lest he should interpose delays, he eagerly urged his friend on. Firuz, asking no questions, responded to the one hastening with counsel just as hastily; he also sent his son as a hostage with these words: "Let your herald sound in your camp with a loud voice, that the Frankish people, having prepared today, should enter the Saracen land tomorrow for the purpose of plundering, and thus our plan will be concealed from both our people and yours. For our men will rest less anxiously, hoping that the greater multitude of your people has gone off rather far. But after they have departed from your tents, let them return by night in silence through suitable locations: meanwhile, you in secret, bring a ladder to the walls and hasten, and suppress all noise, and swiftly and confidently climb the wall, for I shall deliver my towers as I promised you. You then see to the rest of what must be done, and bring matters to completion with your swords, and do not, like the idle, neglect anything that must be done. I for my part, sleepless and watchful, shall await your coming."
Bohemond assigned the duty of making the proclamation to a certain servant of his, whom they called, I know not for what reason, "Bad Crown": who going through all the camp, shouted in a loud voice that the time was announced by the chief men that they should go to plunder the land of their enemies. But Bohemond entrusted the secret of all his plans to Duke Godfrey, and to the Count of Flanders, and to the Count of Saint-Gilles, and to the Bishop of Le Puy, and to Robert of Normandy, and to certain other chief men. For Tancred and his counselors had known the whole matter from the beginning.
Stephen of Blois was absent, who, detained by a great illness as he asserted, had gone to Alexandretta for the sake of recovery, and once he had recovered, he had departed. The Christian army therefore, unaware of this matter, set out from the camp as evening fell; and led through certain byways, before dawn had yet broken, it returned near the city by shortcut paths. Meanwhile Bohemond commanded his close associates: "This ladder which I have prepared, place it prudently against that wall which you see, and conduct yourselves wisely in silence, and climb up carefully. Our friend Pyrrhus will keep you safe, and will place you in authority in his towers. I hold his son with me as a hostage. But after you have climbed the towers, carry out the remaining task by the sword. Let no one fear, let no one be stunned; the ladder is attached to the wall and fastened to the battlements above. Hasten therefore and climb up fearlessly."
A certain Lombard named Paganus climbed up first, yet not entirely fearless: nor was this surprising, since he feared both treachery, and was ascending to unknown places; and dreaded whatever events might come, and always imagined the horror of death present before him. Nevertheless about sixty men followed him, whom Pyrrhus diligently gathered and placed in his towers; but after he saw that no more were following, he is reported to have said in his mother tongue, "Michro Francos echome," that is, "Alas, alas! We have too few Franks." For he feared, since indeed they were too few for defense, let alone for engaging the enemy, that they along with him would fall into the hands of the Turks. Against Bohemond therefore, as if he were idle and sluggish, he directed his complaint; and provoked him with friendly reproaches.
That hasty Lombard descended by the same ladder he had first climbed: and said to Bohemond who was waiting at a distance: "What are you doing? Are you sleeping? Send those whom you are going to send quickly, since we have already secured three towers unharmed. Otherwise you have lost both us, and the city, and your friend who has placed all his hope and soul in your care." Bohemond rejoiced, and those who were with him, and faster than words they hastily seized the course, took possession of the ascent; and urging each other on, one was already outpacing another.
And so many had already climbed up, and many were still climbing, when those who were in the towers and in other battlements of the walls cried out with loud voices. They also seized other towers, and were already running noisily through the walls and streets. Whomever they could find, they slaughtered; and they spared no one who stood in their way. For the citizens had barely awakened and were still drowsy: worn out by the labors of the long siege, they lay on their backs exhausted; not knowing what was happening, they went out of their houses unarmed, and stupefied by sleep and by the sound of the battle trumpet, the cautious encountered the incautious, and thinking them to be their own people, they called to the Christians as if they were their own: but those, wherever they were met, fell like sheep and were cut down. Then also, by chance, the close kinsman brother of Pyrrhus was killed. Such are your outcomes, blind and dark night! Such are your tumults, shadowy hours!
Meanwhile so great was the throng of those climbing the ladder that the ladder itself, splitting apart, broke to pieces: that this was both a cause of grief and a great impediment to the Christians, no one of sound mind doubts. The battalions of the Franks were indeed present in sight near the walls: but they could offer no assistance to those who were fighting above and inside. Therefore no small sadness arose there. But not far from the ladder there was a certain gate, which the Christians had seen while scouting in previous days; feeling along the left side, they found it; and breaking it open, they entered as quickly as possible. Then a greater uproar arose, and a more abundant opportunity for fighting grew for the Christians, and for the Turks, buried in sleep and wine, a crueler anguish of death befell them.
Those pagans, while trying to escape the imminent danger, crashed into the Christians, and striving to avoid the assault, unknowingly fell into the sudden peril of death. Bohemond, since for an eager spirit nothing happens fast enough, impatient of delays, ordered his banner to be raised in the city, and placed against the citadel that was in the city, on a higher hill. For the Franks had entered the city in such a great swarm, and had so prevailed over that circumcised people, that having killed countless numbers, whatever remained they either drove into the castle that overlooked the city, or put to flight into whatever byways they could, and neither age nor sex, nor any condition was spared that night. The night was uncertain and therefore it had made no exception of either sex.
Day broke, and those who had remained in the camp, roused by the tumultuous crowds and the resounding trumpets, saw and recognized the banner of Bohemond, and rejoiced at the capture of the city. They ran therefore to the gates, and entering, if they found any Turks trying to escape, they struck them down, and on that day there was the greatest slaughter of the pagans. That night and that morning brought a deadly fate upon the Antiochenes. Some also escaped alive through the gates, because they were unknown to the impetuous Franks.
But Cassianus, the lord of the Turks, hid among the fugitives; and I know not how, yet with no lesser misfortune but only a delayed one, he escaped alive. For he arrived in Tancred's territory, trembling beyond what can be believed. It is uncertain whether he departed entirely without refuge, or whether he ran about seeking aid from his fellow tribesmen. What is certain is that if he had entered his own castle, he would have taken better counsel for himself and his people. Therefore when his horses and those of his companions were utterly exhausted, he was forced to halt; and he turned aside into a certain hovel, and there hid himself, though not securely enough. For when the inhabitants of that region learned of this, namely the Syrians or Armenians, they made a rush upon him, fell upon him; and having seized him, they cut off his head, and brought it severed before Bohemond, so that in this way they might earn his favor, and be granted and enjoy the freedom they desired.
But the end of Cassianus, that most illustrious man, was obscure and miserable. Such are your rewards, worldly prosperity! Of this kind are your wages, deceitful and deceptive fortune! The pagans, overly devoted to fortune and excessively submit to fortune. Behold the unhappy Cassianus, the lord and admirable ruler of Antioch, today is slain by a miserable lot, overtaken by miserable misfortune, and deluded by hostile fates. Behold a royal scion, as if some nobody born in dung, is disgracefully punished with his body left unburied. His belt and scabbard they appraised at sixty bezants. For those peoples greatly glory in such trappings and buckles. The streets indeed and all the open spaces of the city were so densely packed with corpses that free passage was given to no one; the crossroads and lanes were certainly blocked with slain bodies. Therefore horror and excessive stench weighed upon all travelers. And so the city of Antioch, except for the citadel, was captured; and Cassianus, as has been said, was ignominiously beheaded, on Wednesday, the third of the Nones of June.
Book Three
While Antioch was being besieged, many had flocked to its aid, and many were still flocking: but of those who had flocked, after the city was captured, some were killed, some were received into the citadel, and others took counsel for their lives by flight: but those who were still gathering, upon hearing the rumor of the fall of the Antiochenes, halted, deliberating whether to withdraw to a distance or draw nearer. Fame persuaded them to withdraw, which was everywhere announcing the happy successes of the Christians, and from these successes they anticipated even happier ones, and therefore the greatest fear was implanted in each of their hearts. But anger urged them to approach, on account of the hostile slaughter of their fellow tribesmen; shame, on account of the boldness of the foreigners which had not yet been repressed. They also trusted in the widespread multitude of the assembled nations; and in their own, as they boasted, singular valor. Moreover they said it would be inglorious unless the many checked the stupidity of the few, unless the natives drove the newcomers from their borders, unless they avenged the blood of their people that had been shed by the enemy, unless they, the idle ones, protected their sons and wives and household gods and the remaining possessions of their homes.
The prince and leader of these was Kerbogha, a man most warlike indeed, second to none in daring, endowed with prudence, rich in wealth, surrounded by military forces, eager for glory, puffed up with the arrogance of boasting, a man of great name, the master of the soldiery of the Sultan of Persia. Cassianus, the ruler of Antioch, while it was being besieged, had invited him with many embassies, that he might hasten to liberate Antioch: for he would send him back honored with many coins. Kerbogha therefore, both to receive the promised pay, and especially to spread his name, having received from the Caliph, the apostolic leader of his people, permission to rage against the Christians, had assembled innumerable peoples for himself, namely Turks, Saracens, Arabs, Paulicians, Azimites, Kurds, Persians, Agulani, and countless others, and had forged an immense army. Having therefore gathered from all sides abundant forces which no one could count, with the ruler of Jerusalem and the king of Damascus also added to the same company, Kerbogha was setting out for Antioch. In that same expedition were, as has been said, the Agulani, about three thousand, who being entirely armored in iron, feared neither arrows nor lances; nor did they bring any weapons to battle except swords.
As these were approaching Antioch, Sensadolus, the son of Cassianus, met them, mournful over the captured city and wasting away with grief over the death. You would have seen tears dripping down his youthful face, which would move even a heart of adamant to pity and rouse it to give aid. He therefore poured forth words of this kind into the bosom of Kerbogha:
"Most unconquered prince, wounded by hostile fortune I am compelled to approach you as a suppliant; and to beg aid from your generous munificence. May the compassion owed to the wretched move you, I beseech, may the human feeling of our shared kinship compel you. Consider, I say, into what calamities I have fallen; weigh the vicissitudes of human tribulation. The fortune that now looks upon me with a sidelong glance was recently smiling on me; and then I was rejoicing in an excellent father and a famous city. You must fear the same misfortune for yourself. In your favorable successes you must plan ahead for guarding against adversities. It is the mark of a fortunate and generous man to reckon others' calamities as his own; to bestow abundant mercy upon another's misery. Come to my aid therefore, with that spirit with which you would wish to be aided, if fortune had struck you with my misfortune. If you wish to triumph over the Christians, for you can easily destroy them, you will acquire a great name for yourself, and restore our people to freedom. But if you pretend not to fight against them, what remains except that they strive to bring your house and kindred to ruin? For this people, unless they are manfully repressed, yearns to go to Khorasan; and in a wondrous way pushes beyond their strength, and threatens great things. Behold, they have obtained the impregnable city of Antioch by an ingenious betrayal; and the reckless rabble have besieged the citadel that overlooks the city, and with contemptuous gaping they snarl against our people, worthless refuse that they are. Hasten therefore, and make haste to come to my aid, since you shall not depart unrewarded, nor shall I be ungrateful for your kindnesses. Moreover I shall do you perpetual homage, and shall hold in your fealty the city which you shall have restored to me."
"No," said Kerbogha, "that is not what I have determined to do. But if you wish me to fight for you with all my strength, hand over the castle into our possession; and I shall delegate it to my men-at-arms. After I am secure regarding you, as I said, I shall attack that little mob with all my efforts: but if not, I shall protect only my own territory." Sensadolus, unworthy of help, agreed to Kerbogha's demands, and the citadel he handed over to the authority of the protector. On the third day after the city was delivered to the Christians, Kerbogha also obtained the citadel; and the aforementioned prince's scouts ran about near the city: the rest of the army followed behind, and they pitched camp at the Iron Bridge: and they immediately stormed that stronghold, and killed everyone at once, except for the lord of that castle, who was bound in iron chains. He also, after the battle of which more will be said later, was found alive and bound. The next day came, and Kerbogha pitched camp between the river and the lake: and there they spent two days.
The castle that had been returned to him he entrusted to a certain close associate of his, and said: "I know your loyalty, and your courage, and your temperance; and therefore I shall commit this fortress to your watchfulness. I knew, I say, that you would share in our honor; and therefore I entrust this very great honor to your faithfulness. Guard it prudently therefore, and attend vigilantly to the task enjoined upon you. There are many, as you know, who are my subordinate lords, who would obey my commands in all things faster than words: but I weigh your faithfulness above theirs, I place your skill above their skill, for I compare no one to your sagacity."
To which that lord replied: "If, with your grace preserved, I could avoid this judgment of yours, I would wish you to transfer the present commission to anyone else. But rather than have you convict me of any disloyalty, and feel your spirit hostile toward me, I shall accept this castle, yet on this condition: that if in battle on the field, with forces engaged hand to hand, you are overcome, I, looking to my own life, shall open the castle to the Franks." To which Kerbogha replied: "I do not lack experience of your prudence and integrity: whatever may happen, I grant according to your disposition."
Having entrusted and received the castle, as has been said, Kerbogha, who had come with some of his men, returned to the camp, in the valley where his army had pitched their tents. Those Hagarenes had seized certain very poor weapons from some impoverished Christians, namely a rusty sword and a rather useless little lance. These they presented to Kerbogha to mock the Franks, saying: "These are the weapons of war, exceedingly precious weapons, which those locusts brought from beggarly Gaul. With these they threaten to conquer us, with these they struggle against us."
Kerbogha indeed, smiling and taking the weapons into his hands, spoke mockingly thus: "The Franks have not yet found real men. Are these the arms in which they trust? Are these the mockeries of weapons, with which they believe they conquered Antioch, deceived by treachery? But, oh how vainly they glory over this; since we have retained the citadel, which commands Antioch, fortified with battlements and soldiers, and we shall afflict them, shut in, with every kind of injury. Let us therefore rouse ourselves, O our people, always most unconquered, and in the first encounter let that wretched people learn whether we are beasts of burden or men. Let us drive away this abject rabble from our borders and, O unbroken race, let us pursue them without ceasing even into their own countries. I consider it the greatest disgrace, our nobles, to have defended and prevailed in our own land, unless in repaying them in kind, it falls to us to destroy them and everything that is theirs in their own land. Antioch, a royal and famous city, is the capital of all Syria, which they seized not by arms but by treachery, not by war but by their promises and flatteries. Let us therefore wrest it back by fighting, and having driven them out, let us invade their lands."
And so, having summoned his secretary, he spoke thus: "Write dispatches to be read in Khorasan, which shall contain the following message:
"To the Caliph, our pope, and to Suleiman, the great king, perpetual health and immense honor. Know that a household, who call themselves Christians, have irreverently left their hiding places; and as you have heard, they have most irreverently presumed to invade our land; but we, trusting in your goodwill and our own arm, have gone forth to repress the stupidity of that people; and we shall easily reduce them to servitude. But we consider this too little for us, unless we also cover their territories with our battalions, and swallow up all their goods. Meanwhile may all our friends rejoice, and you must beget sons, who, while we campaign in a distant region, may replace those whom we have brought with us, and may possess our regions until we return. We are now deliberating about the citadel, which overlooks the city of Antioch, which has been returned to us. So that you may see against whom we have to fight, we have sent you their glorious weapons, in which you will be able to note how trifling are the bearers of those arms. So that you may also rejoice more fully, we already hold those who occupied Antioch by their tricks shut in, nor do we doubt their surrender. Therefore indulge abundantly in your wishes and pleasures, and farewell all our friends and counselors. May Suleiman especially prosper, the powerful and great king. For I swear that I shall by no means return until, with Syria and the Roman lands restored to freedom, I shall also have subdued Apulia to my dominion."
While these things were happening, the mother of the aforesaid Kerbogha, who was in the city of Aleppo, came to her aforesaid son, groaning on behalf of her son about what she had heard. For she was old and full of days, being indeed a centenarian, and prescient of the future. She also gathered much knowledge, being a woman skilled in divination, from the constellations; and she was not ignorant of horoscopes, and was versed in many disciplines. Weeping, therefore, she spoke to her son: "Why, without consulting me, dearest son, have you undertaken a military enterprise? Is it because I am decrepit that you thought I had lost my mind? Believe me, the mind flourishes in an exhausted body; and slack skin and the wrinkles of old age still nurture a lively spirit. Indeed you could have disclosed your plan to no one more faithfully than to one who would either love you more closely, or who would counsel you more wisely. For what can be compared to a mother's love?
"Why then did you presume to flee from your mother unconsulted, your mother ungreeted, O man of leaden heart! O breast of flint and liver of adamant, which the memory of a mother did not soften, which reverence for an affectionate mother did not drive to conversation! For even if the body has withered, the mind still lives and thrives, unyielding. In the end, sweetest son, how great and how futile an enterprise you have undertaken! Without me, at least as a cautious weigher, you should first have considered it. It was fitting for you to measure the unconquerable people against whom you are about to fight: it was necessary for you to weigh how unused to warfare are the forces you have gathered from all sides.
"For, to not at all conceal the truth: our people are gold, that people is iron. Ours is indeed quite spirited; but in hand-to-hand combat, less than effective, inexperienced and lacking greatly in this kind of labor: since the old age of this nation has flourished very much in peace. Moreover the God of the Franks is truly Almighty, and unless they themselves have gravely offended him, he always protects them as victors. In our regions, my bone and my flesh, your name is well spread; but against Christians your arm has not yet been sufficiently proven. Unless you cease fighting them, one of two things will happen: either triumphing over the Christians you will be more glorious; or, being defeated, which God forbid, you will tarnish the title of your prowess. Furthermore, if you would listen to your counseling mother, you would come to your senses and desist from this rashness; and would withdraw yourself and your people from this presumptuous labor, by any pretext not dishonorable. But if not, it is certainly dangerous that you commit yourself to uncertain fortune. For it is doubtful which side Mars may more favor; yet I fear for our side, since both the ferocity of those executioners, and their habitual practice of fighting, and their cunning, vehemently terrify me. All these things therefore should have been considered with more careful prudence; but since you have begun in this way by your own judgment, and cannot be moved from your undertaking: for you are an obstinate man: lest I omit anything flattering: in this battle, if you engage, you are to be defeated, and your army will be stripped of its rich treasures. But with many killed, you yourself will escape alive: yet you will die this year, alas! by a sudden death."
That old woman, fainting in tears, had finished speaking, when her boastful son replied thus in few words: "I wonder, my mother, with what face you have pronounced upon a Christian victory, when they ought not be compared to our people in number, nor in arms, nor in spirit. For I alone have more powerful, warlike lords than they are with their entire expedition. Yet what false interpreter has reported these things to you? Meanwhile I wish you to be silent, lest perhaps you weaken the spirits of our army with your speeches. Return therefore, dearest mother, and hoping for better things, await the outcome. They themselves are men, just as we are; and against impure men, and uncircumcised, not against God, nor God against us, shall we fight. We are surrounded by an equal lot of mortality. Only those will die sooner whose hands are more sluggish; whose spirits, less bold, will grow cold for not defending. But you, mother, with all due reverence, farewell; and do not yet believe that the time which our lots and auguries portend, namely that Christians are to possess our land, is at hand." With these words the warlike hero fell silent; and his mother, having kissed her son, her cheeks bathed in tears, carefully returned to her home, and brought the wealth she could scrape together from all sides into Aleppo, a most well-fortified city, to be preserved.
On the third day after this, Kerbogha rode armed toward the fortress committed to him. The Christians, seeing the battle lines advancing in order and approaching the city, went out to meet them; and having prepared for battle, they thought they could resist them. But so great was the multitude and strength of those Ishmaelites that the Franks were immediately forced to flee back into the city, fearing to withstand those impetuous peoples. And since the narrow gates could not provide them free entry, many perished, suffocated by the very crush. The Turks attacked them fiercely; and already the day was failing, nor was rest given to the weary. Thus the day being exhausted, the longed-for night overshadowed the lands.
Therefore great despair fell upon the Christians: yet some consoled others, and they discussed battle for the following day. Some however, more fearful beyond what was right and lawful, and forgetful of brotherly affection, thought of flight during the night; and to the disgrace of all their kindred and posterity, they fled most ignominiously. For they did not remember how great a disgrace it was, with brothers and fellow soldiers abandoned, friends ungreeted, leaders unconsulted, to be lowered by ropes over the wall, for manly strength to be shamefully emasculated, for men to lose their minds before it was necessary. For those who in the past had fled from battles after abandoning their comrades were called traitors to their companions, and punishment was usually exacted on their heads.
I shall not omit naming some of these; though I would name them all, if I knew them all by name. For we must not spare the infamy of those who, being excessively cowardly, did not spare their own reputation. William of Grandmesnil, and his brother Alberic, and Guy Trousseau, and Lambert the Poor. These, terrified by the fear of the previous day's battle, and anxious to flee before the next day, were lowered by ropes over the wall; and to their perpetual shame were called stealthy tightrope-walkers.
Therefore in the dead of that night, they escaped by ropes, and arrived on foot at the port of Saint Simeon, with their hands and feet flayed. They had walked all night over the crags of precipices; and with many companions, walking to the aforesaid port, they halted exhausted: and they said to the sailors hesitating in the port, for indeed there were many ships in the port: "What are you doing here, wretched people? All the Christians whom you await have been beheaded and destroyed. And no one except us escaped alive: and you still linger idly. The Turks have besieged Antioch which we had conquered; indeed they have captured it. They beheaded all the others; and we barely escaped their swords, while directing our way to you during this night. Cut the ropes therefore, immediately, I say, cut them, and row across the sea hasten: since if you weave delays, you will see what we say." The sailors, roused by rumors of this kind, some having cut their anchors, were already plowing the sail-winged sea, and turning their canvas sails obliquely into the breezes. While these things were happening, behold the Turks suddenly swooped down, scouting the shores; and they slaughtered the unprepared and fearful sailors; they ravaged with fires and plundered the ships lingering in the port; and they tore apart all the idle ones at will.
Those who had remained in the city bore the weight of the Turkish war all day long, nor could they, now long exhausted, endure such great labors any further, when seizing upon a sudden plan, they built a wall of rough stones and without mortar between the city and the citadel, so that the Turks would not have free passage to attack them. For that rough wall provided timely aid to the Christians; but produced a troublesome impediment for the Turks. The garrison of the citadel indeed ran down as far as the wall, but were immediately repulsed by the Franks; and thus the assaults of the pagans were thwarted. The Franks indeed, with all diligence, stood armed beside the wall; and indulged neither in sleep, nor in attending to any other matters.
Meanwhile famine gradually grew stronger: and the Christians were compelled to devour horses and donkeys, and whatever other unclean thing there was. Placed in great misery, most despaired; yet some sighed to God from the depths of their hearts. For a prudent man does not cease to think how he may escape necessity. Nor does anyone escape more easily than he who makes the Lord his helper. They called therefore upon the Lord, and he heard them: and he sent them a certain priest, who spoke thus:
"Brothers and my friends, hear the vision which I have truly seen: which, lest you think it a phantasm or a mockery of dreams, if I lie, I wish you to destroy my shamelessness. When I had resolved to spend the night in the church of the holy Mother of God, to intercede, I say, on our behalf: I know not whether awake or half-asleep: I know not, God knows: I saw our Lord Jesus Christ, and yet did not recognize him. His most holy Mother was also present, and the prince of the apostles, the most holy Peter. I was gazing upon all of them, and yet, as I said, a man bereft of sense, I did not recognize my Lord and that holy company. And the Lord said to me: 'Do you recognize me?' I spoke, for indeed I understood the voice of the one asking, but I did not yet recognize the person of the questioner: 'Not at all, my Lord.' Then a splendid cross placed above his head shone forth. Then he asked me the same question, and I said: 'If I perceive rightly, my Lord, from the sign of the cross placed on your head, I understand you to be the Crucified, our Redeemer.' He said: 'It is exactly as you say.'"
"And I, my cheeks bathed in tears, fell sobbing at his feet, and added: 'Lord, have mercy on us. Lord, remember your people, Lord God, help us.' And the Lord said to me: 'And I have helped you up to this point; for I also allowed you to obtain Nicaea, and I protected you in many battles; and with me as your leader you conquered, and at Antioch you prevailed, and in that very siege I granted you many things as you wished: you, ungrateful for my benefits, have swollen with pride against me; and as if from fat your iniquity has come forth; and me, O injurious people, you have provoked in a pagan manner, while you have fornicated with women either foreign, or of your own profession but illicit. For this singular stench has reached the heavens, and has turned my eyes away from you. I shall therefore repay your ingratitude, nor shall I spare a prostituted and brothel-keeping multitude.' Then the mother of mercy and the blessed Peter fell at the compassionate feet of the Redeemer; and with these supplications they were soothing the wrath of the one who threatened: 'Lord, for so many years the pagan people have held this house, which was a house of prayer: and with their filth, O shame! they have defiled it: and will you be angry enough to destroy that which your kindness, which freed this house with its own blood, has redeemed? Spare, Lord, spare; spare your people; and do not give your inheritance over to destruction, so that the nations lord over them.'
"The Holy of Holies yielded to the prayers of the supplicating mother and the apostle, and now with a more cheerful countenance said to me: 'Go, and say to my people: Remove from yourselves the brothel, and the house of prostitution, and every abuse; and wash your crimes with tears; and return to me, and I shall return to you: and within five days I shall provide you with timely aid. For I am God who has no mercilessness. Meanwhile let them sing daily: Our enemies have gathered and glory in their strength. Crush their fortitude, Lord, and scatter them: that they may know that there is none who fights for us except you, our God. Scatter them in your power; and cast them down, our Lord and protector. These and other verses, pleasing to the Deity, let them sing without ceasing.'"
The priest said these things, and added: "Brothers and my lords, do not disbelieve my humble self; for I do not speak in fictitious riddles; nor, deluded by fantastical imaginings, do I deceive you. If you wish, I shall even make a test of this matter, lest perhaps, God forbid, you scorn what I have told you, the command of the Redeemer. Either throw me from the top of any tower, or cast me into fire; and when I appear to you unharmed, then at last believe. Otherwise, know that I have spoken fabrications."
The Bishop of Le Puy ordered the Gospel and the cross to be brought forward: upon which the priest, satisfying the people, swore that he had seen the vision in order just as he had testified in the same assembly. The entire populace immediately turned to lamentation; and one urged another to confess their guilt: you would have seen the faces of the Christians bathed in weeping: with ashes on their heads and bare feet, everywhere for the sake of prayer, every age, no person excepted, they hastened through the churches: they sought help, they asked for counsel. And the Lord inspired in them this counsel, which they accepted unanimously.
For one of them said: "Our nobles, let us swear to one another, that none of us henceforth shall flee from this holy company: until we have kissed the Sepulchre of the Lord our God, for which we entered upon this journey. Then, having also greeted our brothers, let those who wish return to their homes." And so this speech pleased the common assembly. All the leaders therefore swore, whose names you have noted above. Tancred swore the same and added: that as long as he could have sixty knights with him, he would by no means withdraw from the journey to Jerusalem. Therefore the entire congregation of Christians was heartened and strengthened, and was immensely gladdened, having shared in such an oath.
There was also there a certain pilgrim, named Peter, to whom, before Antioch was seized, the holy Andrew had appeared, asking him and saying: "What are you doing, good man?" To whom Peter replied: "For who are you, my lord?" He said to him: "I am Andrew, apostle of Christ. I wish you to know, therefore, that after you have entered this city and gone into the Church of the blessed Peter, you will find in that place" -- and he pointed out the place -- "the lance which pierced the side of the Savior on the cross. For whatever touched that saving dwelling-place of the Holy Spirit on the gibbet of the cross is most sacred, and is to be especially embraced by all Christians." With these words, the blessed apostle vanished.
The pilgrim, having heard these things, kept silent. For he did not wish to reveal the apostle's message to anyone: for he believed he had seen this vision in the manner of one dreaming. Yet the blessed Andrew, as the pilgrim later reported, had carried him to the very place; and there had shown him everything that had long lain hidden.
After the city was captured, therefore, and, as has been said, Christendom was greatly afflicted, the blessed Andrew appeared to him again saying: "Why, faint-hearted one, have you not taken the lance?" To whom Peter said: "Who, lord, would believe what I heard?" "Do not despair," said the apostle, "do not despair. But know for certain, as I said, and showed you, that all things are true; for know that this revelation will greatly benefit the weary Christians: inasmuch as from the lance, saving confidence will flow for them. For within five days the Lord will visit them, and will powerfully rescue them from the hands of their persecutors."
Peter therefore revealed to his companions this counsel divinely communicated to him. But the people disbelieved, and mocked the one testifying. He persisted, and swore on oath that the holy Andrew had appeared to him twice, and had announced such things to him; and had vehemently adjured him not to hide any longer the secret entrusted to him. At length they believed the one swearing, and resumed their former strength of spirit, as if awakened from sleep. For now two heralds had emerged, who agreed about their salvation and God's propitiation. Therefore, now more secure about God's help, as if they had already conquered, they congratulated one another in the Lord.
Meanwhile the Turks, who were in the castle, by no means ceased from harassing the Christians; but with all diligence they attacked the Franks. And so one day, before the eyes of the Franks, they shut up three Christians in a certain tower, nor did the Franks dare to bring assistance to those enclosed. For they had failed, afflicted by many tribulations; and they were still wasting away, relieved by no consolations except in hope. Two of them therefore, gravely wounded, came out of the tower; the third also manfully defended himself alone all day long against the Turkish assault: and so he struck down two Turks, aided by no help: but with his hand alone he resisted the bands of his pursuers. We have said these things so that we might not omit saying how greatly the Christians were already terrified: since they watched their brothers being attacked, and yet did not dare, though present before them, to fight on their behalf. That most valiant warrior was called Hugh the Madman, from the army of Godfrey of Mont Scabioux; a man indeed great-hearted and bold, and among all the warlike worthy of the highest praise. Him therefore, whom the arms of his own people did not aid, let our page at least commend this glorious soldier to successive generations.
Alas! By how many and how great calamities had the spirits of the Franks withered, who watched one of their own fighting all day, and did not come to his aid; heard him crying out, and did not respond. When the leaders summoned them, they did not assemble; when the trumpets sounded, they hid in their houses: indeed unarmed and dispirited, they detested the war they had long sought; and now as if lifeless, unwarlike and inglorious, they preferred to die.
Bohemond and the leaders, seeing the army thus failing, because they did not even wish to defend themselves; and could not lead them even as far as the wall which separated the city from the citadel by however slight a gap: they ordered a great fire to be lit; and part of the city to be burned: so that in this way at least they would leave their houses, and the hiding places in which, at last utterly unmanned, they were skulking quite shamelessly. And so a fire was kindled in the part of the city where the palace of Cassianus stood prominent. For the leaders were troubled and bore it badly that, when summoned to battle, they showed them no respect as was customary. The fire therefore, without delay, grew strong: since the ancient mass of timber provided fuel to the crackling flames: and the burning wind supplied the stimulus and the force. Whoever therefore had lodged in those houses, barely snatching up their possessions, were forced to flee to their leaders, who had each taken their position at the gates of the city for the purpose of keeping watch. From the third hour of the day until midnight the conflagration did not abate; and about two thousand houses or churches were burned. The fire was therefore extinguished, since all the ferocity of the winds had died away.
The Turks of the citadel, with the Franks now barely able to protect themselves at all, had prevailed, from whom almost nothing separated them except weapons. For now the matter was conducted solely by arm and hand, and now they were fighting at close quarters on both sides; nor was the battle interrupted even for a moment. The Turks, superior in number and strengthened by more abundant food, were relieving each other in shifts, leaving nothing unattempted, boldly attacking the Franks, thrusting themselves willingly into combat; one encouraging another. The Franks on the other side, excessively hard-pressed, were wavering; unable to take food or sleep, since to whom no rest was given: for he who had bread was not permitted to eat it; nor could anyone refresh his parched mouth with stored water; indeed they had no leisure even to breathe. Placed therefore in such great misery, they undertook to raise another wall of stone and mortar, since the Turks had easily demolished the one they had erected without mortar. They also built a wooden siege engine, by which the Christians might more securely protect themselves. Nor was battle meanwhile lacking, since the Turks labored tirelessly in every way to prevent the wall from being built. Dark night had hidden the colors of all things; and a fire was seen from the west looming from the sky, and raging as if falling among the camps of the Turks. For their camps were not far removed from the city, since they had placed their tents nearby in the valley. And although the fire was harmless and did them no injury, it nevertheless struck them with great terror and sadness, but gave the Christians comfort and joy: for that sign shone forth from heaven to both peoples. Some of them, having immediately abandoned their camps, took fearful shelter where they could, namely near Bohemond's gate. But those who had remained in the citadel fought all day with the Christians, and could not be torn away from either their deaths or their exhaustion: they pressed on with lances and missiles, and inflicted wound upon wound. The part that remained in the camps so surrounded the city that no one could pass in or out by day. By night, indeed, someone could sometimes go out; but secretly, and not without fear.
Therefore the famine grew worse day by day, and tormented the army of the Christians more violently than can be believed or told: many indeed perished from hunger. Those who lived barely had a pulse; their faces appeared ghastly, horribly disfigured by exhausted, drawn-out fasts and wasted emaciation. In that calamity you would have seen no one extravagant; rather, even the wealthier ones you would have seen destitute: and all were gaunt from reduced flesh and thinned by starvation. For hardtack bread, very small in quantity, whenever it could be found, was purchased for a Byzantine gold coin. About wine I think it better to be silent than to speak: for scarcely any of the leaders tasted wine there. Horse meat or donkey meat was reckoned an imperial delicacy. The price of a chicken was fifteen solidi; an egg, two solidi; a walnut was valued at one denarius: all cheap things were worth many staters. They eagerly plucked, boiled, and devoured leaves of fig trees, vines, and thistles, and whatever leaves of other trees could be found. They cooked dry hides of horses, donkeys, camels, and buffalo, and ate them. And besides these they suffered many other calamities and deprivations there. For they were compelled, with hunger pressing hard, to chew and swallow with greedy teeth foods once considered disgusting. For there was nothing so foul, so tasteless, to which hunger did not impart flavor; from which it did not strip away the shame of tasting it. This continuous suffering the wretched people endured for thirty-six days. Let no one therefore doubt that we have spoken the truth, let no one murmur: with what provisions they could have lived on, who had not gathered a harvest, who had stored nothing in granaries, who inhabited a city depopulated by long siege and at last burned, who did not receive a market of goods for sale from the natives -- no one could adequately conceive. One may indeed marvel, but could not satisfactorily explain from what source they lived so long. Nor should it be slanderously imputed to God, for whose sake they suffered such things; who chastises in order to correct, and scourges with paternal affection every son whom He receives (Heb. 12:6). For in those very scourges He is merciful; and His hidden goodness does nothing wrongly or mercilessly: for the judgments of God are never unjust. But Christ so arranged matters for His Christians that in those very afflictions, beyond the expectation of the barbarians, they would grow stronger: and when the enemy thought they had perished, they would overcome. Indeed in their oppressions, which befell them so that they might be thoroughly tested, they ceaselessly sang: Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto Thy name give glory (Psalm 113). Thus admonished, they mercifully cried out from the depths and were heard; and were raised up above their enemies.
Meanwhile Stephen, Count of Chartres, whom the elders had chosen to preside over councils and public affairs, an eloquent man of singular learning, detained by some slight illness, as he said, had withdrawn to Alexandretta to convalesce, as has been told: everyone awaited his return, inasmuch as they had appointed him their leader and counselor. They also hoped, if he returned, that his expertise would be most welcome to all. But he, as has been said, had fallen ill and departed before the city was captured. When he heard that the Turks had surrounded the city, along with these and other rumors about the army (for Alexandretta is not far removed from Antioch), he secretly climbed the mountains that overlooked the city on their slopes, so that he might fully learn the condition of either army, both their weaknesses and their preparations. He saw therefore the innumerable tents of the Turks; and them spread like the sand of the sea over many stadia: he also saw the city surrounded, and recognized the small band of Christians enclosed within. Judging therefore that his comrades had either all already been destroyed or were about to be destroyed forthwith -- for what else could a man without knowledge judge? -- terrified with no small fear along with those who were with him, he hastily took to flight and departed in secret.
Yet quite rashly, because he had consulted no one from the Christian expedition. He ought rather to have first sent someone from his people secretly, to neglect nothing rashly; to truly ascertain what was happening inside; if possible, to carefully advise them: not to seize for himself alone the fear that threatened all; nor to flee indecently like some commoner. For it would have been more glorious for him to die with his brothers than to have survived as a fugitive and returned to his homeland. This offense he later expiated, touched by contrition of heart, returning from his homeland to Jerusalem; and thus he made amends to all. But for the time being, rash fear precipitated him into dishonorable flight. Which was greatly imputed to him as a reproach, until he washed away his guilt; and his absence also greatly harmed those besieged.
For after he had plundered his own castle on his return and was hastening his flight, he met the Emperor at Philomela; and calling him aside, said: "Know for certain that Antioch has been captured by the Christians: but the citadel, which is the most strongly fortified eminence of the city, the Turks have retained for themselves; and behold, they besiege the surrounded city, and attack from the citadel's fortifications: or rather, as I believe, they have already conquered it, and all the men have perished. Take counsel therefore for yourself and the people you lead: I so counsel as well: and turn back as quickly as possible, lest you fall into the hands of those pursuing us; and you all perish in the blink of an eye. But if you act otherwise, I tell you, soon, but too late, you will repent of this rashness."
The Emperor immediately summoned his council, and the Franks, who were many with him; since from both sides a copious crowd of Gauls and Greeks was streaming together to aid the besieged: he laid the matter before them in order and said: "Franks, those to whose rescue we were hastening would now need greater help than ours: because either all have already been swallowed up in death, or have been led away into captivity. They would need, therefore, either someone who could restore them to life; or someone who with prevailing strength could bring them back from the distant captivity into which they have been driven. For so this count, who is present, testifies: but we can do neither of these things. The help we were preparing for them -- time has outpaced it too quickly. What more can we do? Since all have been destroyed, what good would our help do them? To toil laboriously at great expense toward a place where you can accomplish nothing is the height of madness. It seemed best to us, therefore, to return as swiftly as possible; lest we too be uselessly destroyed. For behold, the Turks, more insolent than usual, and more savage than tigers on account of the blood shed, if they fall upon us will prevail most easily: because our men, hearing these rumors, will immediately lose heart and falter. Let us therefore return, and defer our business to a future day. The day will come, I say, when we shall set out to avenge the blood shed, against the treacherous Turks. I do not wish our men to die at present by sudden death; but let them withdraw, so they may live; and let us preserve and restore them, for wrath and vengeance. Meanwhile, behind our backs, we command this land to be devastated by imperial edict: so that if ever the Turks should emerge against us, finding nothing here they will be forced to withdraw. Furthermore we command the native people of this region to be transferred to Bulgaria so that we may not be reproached as forgetful of anything." And so the Franks were turning back unwillingly, and lamenting most bitterly. Many also of the poor pilgrims were dying everywhere, long sick with their infirmities.
Guy, Bohemond's brother, was with the Emperor while the rumor-bearing count was speaking: he, having heard the speaker's prophecy, was greatly saddened; and lamenting from the very marrow of his heart, wept. Wailing therefore he cried out: "Alas! my brother and dearest lord Bohemond, what has happened? How have you, the hope of God's people, fallen? Can we believe you deserved this? Woe is me! Why did I not rather perish? O God, why have you judged thus? Why have you so abhorred your people? Why have we become a reproach among the nations? Who will grant me, Bohemond, sweetest brother, that I might die for you? Let my soul die, O people of God, O leaders worthy of every title of praise, by your death." Saying these things, he was tearing his beardless cheeks with hooked nails, and plucking out his fair hair: and he was rousing all his listeners to lamentation. Scarcely consoled, yet with his grief not soothed, he was compelled to return with the Emperor.
An inestimable sadness also crept over the people of God. For the bishops and abbots and priests ceased from prayers and praises of God for nearly three days, and sighed with deep groans. Guy also complained constantly throughout the journey: and groaned; and vomited many insults against the aforesaid count. Meanwhile also that entire army, on that day they became stupefied, so terrified by mental shock that they nearly went out of their minds: at last, however, they returned to their senses; and more devoutly sent up plaintive voices and appeasing prayers, and mournful complaints, again to God. But the Emperor, too hastily credulous of the words of the Count of Blois, in that singular necessity, having provided no aid to the besieged Christians, returned to Constantinople to satisfy his own ease. Behold how greatly Stephen of Chartres harmed the army of God, who while he consulted only for himself, having abandoned his brothers and fellow soldiers, diverted the Emperor's auxiliary presence from them; and as an untruthful bearer belched forth rumors other than befitted him. Yet we do not doubt it was done by God's disposition, who arranges all things sweetly; nor permits even one sparrow to fall to the ground by mere chance. For if the Emperor Alexius had come and overcome the Turks, the triumph would have been ascribed to his people, not to the army of God; and attributed to the multitude of the Greeks, not to the valor of the Franks.
But those who were in the city, turned to God, placed all their hope in things above: since they were forced to despair of human help. They spoke therefore to one another about searching for the Lance of the Lord, for they had great confidence in it, if it should be found; since the Apostle Andrew had so promised from God. They came therefore into the church of Blessed Peter, and there, having carefully noted the place, debated at length on this matter; the opinion of the majority prevailed, and they entrusted that task to thirteen hardworking and energetic men, who would dig there carefully: they dug therefore from morning until evening: and they found the lance, in the presence of that same Peter to whom the revelation had been made. When it was raised with due reverence, a public cry arose; and as was fitting, there was a joyful rush toward it, and it was kissed with complete devotion. You would have seen the people bedewed with tears, which joy was wringing from them: you would have perceived the joy that the discovery of so great a thing had produced. So great a gladness therefore arose among them that, all sloth removed, they henceforth remembered no sadness. And from that time they dared to discuss battle.
They therefore took counsel to send their messengers to the princes of the Turks, who would convey their replies to them through an interpreter. They sent two men, Peter the Hermit, and a certain Herluin, not unfamiliar with the Turkish language. These two, sufficiently knowledgeable and industrious men from among the Christians, spoke thus to Kerbogha and his people: "The leaders of the Christians and the entire Christian army send us to you, asking that you henceforth desist from harassing them: and that you cease persecuting the Christians from now on. For why have you pitched your tents against them, and prepared your weapons brandishing them for war? For what harm do they do you? For what concern is Antioch to you, on account of which you have assembled? If you wish to contend by judgment, is this land not, as justice dictates, the Christians'? Did not the blessed Peter dedicate it to Christendom by his preaching? Did he not himself preside there as bishop? But you, relying on proud tyranny, having slain our brothers, solidified it under your rule. Behold, again with reckless daring you plan to wage war against them. Does it seem just to you that, if they wish to recover their own land, and contrive to take nothing of yours from you, you on the other side should rise up armed with swords against the innocent? They therefore declare that if you withdraw peacefully, they would permit you to carry away all your belongings; and if you wished anything of theirs, they would freely grant it. If moreover, which would be better, you should aspire to baptism, they would willingly bestow that sacrament upon you; and would restore this land to your dominion; and would set themselves against your enemies on your behalf, as brothers born of the same womb. But if you gird on the sword and dare to think of battle, he will fight more securely whom the justice of the very cause for which the fight is waged protects: and we, by the will of God, shall merit God as our helper, and shall have justice as our assistant. If you have anything to reply, we will hear your response."
Then Kerbogha is said to have replied with a fierce countenance: "We weigh matters far differently: for your Christianity, which is idolatry and abomination, we utterly reject and abhor. Your Crucified One, whom you set forth, who could not save himself from the disgrace of the cross -- will he save you from our hands? We marvel at the impudence with which you presume to call your own a land which we have long possessed, which our ancestors possessed before that superstitious Peter of yours: but he, by his deceptions, turned them away from the worship of their own God; and seduced them, deceived, into your most trifling sect. Moreover, the land is ours by ancient right, and our valor, once you are erased, will soon restore it to us. But if you wished to become Turks with us -- which would be most necessary for preserving your lives -- we would commit to you both this city and many other regions; and whoever are foot soldiers we would elevate to knights; and we would fight for you everywhere. But if you reject even this, think about flight: for we shall provide for ourselves concerning the subjugation of this land -- nay, a land already subjugated."
The envoys, taking their way back, returned in haste; and informed the Christian army of the impending battle: meanwhile the famine was growing worse; and the fear of the Turks still somewhat unmanned the hearts of the trembling Christians. At last, by decree of the priests, having completed three days of fasting, and having celebrated processions through the churches with litanies, and each of the Christians having been fortified with the most holy viaticum, they organized for battle. They therefore established six battle lines within the city itself. In the first line was Hugh the Great with the men of France and the Count of Flanders: in the second, Duke Godfrey with his warlike army: in the third, Robert, Duke of the Normans: in the fourth, the Bishop of Le Puy, carrying with him the lance, which the Christians wished to have borne before them; and which they believed to be a great defense and protection for them: Count Raymond of Saint-Gilles also remained, in order to watch lest the Turks descend from the citadel and rush into the city with free foot. The fifth line was commanded by Tancred, a valiant prince and knight: the sixth line was led by Bohemond, so that he might look after everyone, and be entirely present for the needs of each individual. The bishops and priests were preaching, and praying, and standing in elevated places, were signing everyone with the sign of the venerable cross.
They went out in order through the gate that is before the Mosque. Nor do I think this should be suppressed in silence: that as they were going out of the city, a light rain, like a dewy drop, fell: which, like morning dew, so gladdened the bedewed horses and riders that the horses, as if cheered, began to neigh: the spirits of the riders, sweetened, became more vigorous and more eager; and all felt themselves readier and more nimble. That rain was, however, so fine and slight that they could scarcely have said it was rain; but they felt certain dewy drops more than they saw them. For this was reported to us by many trustworthy persons. But who would doubt this to be the generosity of a divine gift? Who would not recognize the sprinkling of those drops as the blessing of God visiting His own? To battle therefore they now proceeded with greater confidence, emboldened.
Kerbogha is reported to have said: "These men hasten more to flight than to battle." For he was of such great arrogance and stupidity that he believed no nation would dare to come against him. But after he saw them turning aside neither to this side nor that in fear, but advancing with quickened step, again he was not ashamed to say: "Will these contemptible curs perhaps dare to presume upon battle?" It is also said that he felt some fear, and turned pale with savage rage. For he had previously said to his men while watching the Christians coming out: "Let them approach this far, so that we may more freely swallow them up in our power. Let them come out; let them come: for we shall immediately encircle them, and prevail, and suffocate them." But the Christians were advancing step by step, nor was anyone rushing ahead of another in disorder. Therefore Kerbogha, as has been said, stiffened with greater fear, and his usual bodily strength having dissolved, his spirit grew cold. He therefore secretly ordered his steward, whom they call the admiral, who was in charge of his affairs, that if he should see fire kindled and smoking at the head of his army, he should know his men had been defeated; and that he should immediately give the signal, and taking up all his people, withdraw, lest perhaps the people who were with him, whether in their pavilions, should all perish.
But Kerbogha, having observed the ordered battle lines, and seeing greater forces than he had heard of, craftily began to withdraw step by step toward the mountains, so that the Franks, thinking them to be fleeing, would rush forward headlong; and being thus thrown into disorder, could be more easily harmed. Then the Turks too, when this stratagem was not succeeding, separated from one another: a part came from the sea; others stood in place, hoping they could surround the Christians. On the other hand, the Franks, not ignorant of the enemy's ambushes, took a portion from the line of Duke Godfrey and Robert of Normandy, which they established as a seventh battle line; and they placed over them a certain Reinald, who immediately went to meet the pagans coming from the sea. The Turks indeed fought against them relentlessly, and shot many of them with arrows, or atrociously inflicted on them every other kind of death. The other squadrons of the Christians arranged themselves by extending from the sea to the mountains: which interval is said to be about two miles. And from the mountains and from the sea the Turks pressed keenly, surrounding the Christians and harassing them on every side.
Behold, thanks be to God! from those very mountains an innumerable army was seen emerging, sitting upon white horses and bearing white banners in their hands. Many of the Christians saw this, and as they think, of the pagans as well; and hesitating, they wondered what it might be. At last both sides recognized it as a sign made from heaven. For they recognized the leaders of that host, Saint George, and Saint Demetrius, and Saint Mercury, bearing their standards, going before them. To the Saracens, on the contrary, this vision struck great fear; but to the Christians it increased a better hope. It encouraged the latter and dismayed the former. Many who were present testified that this occurred: yet not all were able to see it; but those to whom the Lord wished to reveal His secret. He revealed it to some for their confusion, to others as a demonstration of the impending triumph. Furthermore, let no one accuse us of falsehood; because we invent nothing from our own heart, but what we have heard, that we testify, and our testimony, from the mouths of those who were present, is true.
The pagans fighting from the direction of the sea, when they could no longer sustain the weight of the battle, as Kerbogha had instructed, set fire to the grass; so that those who were in the tents, seeing it, would take flight; and carry off with them whatever spoils they could. When the signal we mentioned was recognized, they fled swiftly and without rest; and trembling, they seized their more precious belongings. But the Christians who were fighting against them now directed the battle toward their tents, where they were well aware the greater part of their strength had remained. The Turks still resisted with all the obstinacy they could muster; some indeed fought, others busied themselves with plundering the tents. Duke Godfrey, and Robert of Flanders, and Hugh the Great, rode along the river, where again the greatest mass of combatants was. These resolutely and unanimously drove back those who attacked them; the pagans pressed on stubbornly, and on both sides the fighting was irremediable. Bronze helmets rang like hammered anvils, fire sparked in tiny fragments, swords were shattered, men fell to the ground with their skulls crushed; coats of mail were broken, entrails were spilled; the failing horses sweated, and neither to horses nor to riders was any rest granted. The battle lines, locked together, with only a thin margin of weapons, could scarcely be distinguished from each other; for they were striking each other at close quarters; and hands repelled hands, feet repelled feet, bodies repelled bodies. Yet a fear sent from God fell upon the Turks and terrified them; and the invincible steadfastness of the Franks made them marvel and stand stupefied, and drove them to flight.
The entire legion therefore began to waver, and neither trumpet, nor drum, nor horn, nor herald could recall them. For it is impossible for so many peoples, once flight has begun, to turn back again, to fight again: for the very rush itself, and their shared fear, drives them frantic and hurls those who have slipped into flight headlong. The fleeing Turks turned toward their tents, where they expected to find many of their men whom they had left there as reserves; but those men, while these were fighting, had begun their flight, after, as was said, they had spotted the kindled fire. But the Franks, restraining their hands and eyes for a time from plundering the pavilions, and pursuing them diligently and mercilessly by killing, drove them as far as the Iron Bridge; and still to Tancred's castle, they pursued them, cutting them down everywhere. At last returning to their tents, they seized whatever was desirable; and they carried into the city treasures of every kind, and horses and innumerable beasts of burden, and woolly sheep and abundant provisions, and whatever was necessary for those in need.
For the pagans have this custom, that whenever they go against an enemy, whether to supply their own needs or from the arrogance of boasting, they bring along abundant riches with them: and they make horses and donkeys and camels into pack animals for transporting goods; and they command sheep and oxen to be brought along for eating; and they leave out neither grain, nor flour, nor beans, nor oil, nor wine. Therefore when all these things had been abundantly brought into the city, and having obtained the longed-for triumph, they blessed God with fitting praises; and they recognized Him as their present protector and defender; and they raised jubilant hymns to heaven.
The Syrians also and the Armenians who inhabited those regions, seeing the Turks irretrievably defeated in battle, blocked up the familiar winding passes of the dark mountains, and seized the narrow paths; and with drawn swords they were inflicting immense destruction upon them. For they were slaughtering them like wandering sheep, since, overcome by excessive fear, they were forgetful of all defense. The admiral also, who had remained in the citadel of the city, to whom Kerbogha had entrusted that fortress, seeing his men shamefully scattered far and wide, before all the Franks had returned, terrified with fear, requested and received a banner of the Christians, and placed it in a prominent spot in the citadel. He is known to have done this so that in this way both his men and himself would be spared, and there would be no doubt about surrendering the citadel. The banner, since it was more readily at hand when he asked, was that of the Count of Saint-Gilles.
The Lombards seeing this were greatly indignant: because the banner of Bohemond had not been raised, to whom those comrades had granted the city by the aforementioned agreements. But that admiral, to pacify the controversy, having returned the count's banner, raised Bohemond's on the tower; and having requested time for a parley, spoke about peace and the safety of his fellow soldiers. Bohemond and the admiral therefore agreed with each other that those garrison soldiers who wished to become Christians would be treated securely for their lives with Christian generosity: but those who wished to keep their own law would be conducted unharmed to safe places; nor would they be deprived there by deceitful exactions of what they had brought with them. This pact was confirmed by all and the citadel was immediately returned to Bohemond. That admiral was baptized not long after, and was endowed with the liberal munificence of the Franks. He used to say afterward that he had privately adopted Christianity for himself a long time before. Those who resisted the Christian faith migrated back to their own land under Bohemond's safe conduct. This battle took place on the fourth day before the Kalends of July, on the vigil of the apostles Peter and Paul.
With the pagans thus defeated, and others driven far from the city, and the Christians, with Christ as their leader, having obtained a glorious triumph, and having rendered fitting praises to God, the leaders of that splendid Christian host came together; and having taken common counsel, they sent Hugh the Great, a man not unskilled, to the Emperor Alexius at Constantinople, so that he might hasten to receive the city which they had acquired for him through grievous sufferings; and that he would likewise preserve inviolate the sworn agreements: for they had no wish to deviate from their own commitments: let him come, therefore, so that neither side would be cheated of what was promised and owed. "Let him come to us," they said, "and as he has agreed with us, let him henceforth offer himself to us as an inseparable companion to Jerusalem. We do not yet wish to raise any trivial objections about the oath we made to him, though we certainly could; nor let him put forward any excuse for not coming and keeping his oath. For the essence of perjury, not the mere appearance of perjury, is to fail to strive to observe one's oath beyond one's strength, even with all deception set aside." Hugh the Great went, discharged of this embassy's duty; but, although in the expedition itself he had energetically accomplished much by hand and counsel, he greatly failed in this, in that he never afterward returned to his brothers as he had promised and ought to have -- a messenger of the raven's kind.
After the aforesaid Hugh had departed to the Emperor, the leaders of the Franks organized a council, and took counsel about leading the people of God to Jerusalem. They said therefore: "This people which has suffered many calamities, so that it may deserve to see the sepulcher of the Lord their God, now wearied by many misfortunes, openly complains about hastening the journey; and we likewise, afflicted with much weariness, complain. Let us therefore consider what is most useful for them. We judge that no further delays of any kind should be added, beyond those which unavoidable necessity may impose. But nevertheless each matter should be assessed not impetuously, but carefully and modestly. The land through which we are to travel is waterless; the summer is excessively hot; we could not presently endure the inclemency of the air. By the long siege, we are exhausted both in strength and in resources. Let us therefore be silent, and rest; and let us restore our wounded and sick; and meanwhile let us have pity on our poor. Let us wait for the moist solstices; and let us avoid the harmful influence of Cancer and Leo. On the Kalends of November, the weather will cool; and then, assembled together, let us unanimously undertake the agreed-upon journey. Otherwise we would afflict the entire people with untimely heat." Let this counsel, since the multitudes demand it, be set forth more clearly. We must avoid the intractable season, and we judge this most useful for all. This was announced throughout the entire army, and was at last approved by all. The leaders and their households therefore dispersed throughout the neighboring regions, for the purpose of passing the summer; and the needy followed them, for the sake of staying alive. For the leaders had said: "If anyone is needy and sound of body, let him join us, and we will support everyone, giving each man his wages; let the sick be sustained with a public allowance until they recover."
There was in that same army a certain knight of no small courage, from among the retainers of the Count of Saint-Gilles, whose name was Raymond Pilet. He gathered to himself many men, both knights and foot soldiers. Having therefore assembled as large an army as he could, he boldly entered the land of the Saracens; and having advanced beyond two cities, he arrived at a certain fortress named Thalamania. The inhabitants of that fortress, since they were Syrians, voluntarily surrendered to him. They rested in that place for about eight days. It was then reported to them that a fortress full of Saracens was not far away. Girded therefore with military belts, and protected with shields held before them, they attacked the fortress from every side and pressed it hard; and they prevailed, and plundered it, and brought those settlers utterly to ruin: yet any who wished to convert to the Catholic faith, they preserved unharmed. They therefore returned to the first fortress, having enjoyed the joy of victors.
Again on the third day they went out: and they came to a certain city named Marra, which was near them. Many pagans had gathered there from Aleppo, and other surrounding cities, who came out against them to battle. The Franks, thinking they would fight, without delay prepared themselves for battle in the manner of camp soldiers; but the others' vain hope deceived them. For the Turks cautiously turned back toward the city, neither fleeing nor fighting at close quarters; but by a certain cunning withdrawing from the fight, and then again attacking the Franks with a swift movement. They would attack them and wheel about with the easiest turn and when the horses were brought back they would wheel around again without difficulty. The Franks endured their frequent charges, nor could they safely avoid the attacks of those pressing upon them: for if they attempted to withdraw, the pagans would press upon those retreating from behind, which indeed happened afterward. They therefore held out until evening, enduring both toil and the burning of thirst: for the heat was exceedingly great. When they could no longer sustain the labor nor check the plague of thirst, since no water could be found for refreshment, they attempted and agreed to return step by step in a mass to their own fortress. But the feeble and untrained people, namely the foot soldiers and Syrians, scorning order and disregarding the soldiers' command, began to flee in scattered fashion, seized by excessive fear. The tireless pagans pressed upon them, and pursuing those who showed their backs, struck them down; and more savage than wolves, they spared no one. The hoped-for victory and the opportunity of the present moment supplied them with strength. Many therefore of the common and faint-hearted people were killed; some slain by the sword, others choked by the distress of their parched throats. Those who escaped alive returned with their Raymond to their fortress, and stayed there for some days: that slaughter took place in the aforesaid month of July. For things did not always turn out successfully for the Christians; indeed the Lord was chastising them for their insolence, lest perhaps, on account of their frequent victories, their minds should become somewhat tainted with pride.
But those who had remained in Antioch, having attained their wishes, enjoyed rest and gladness; except that their leader and patron, the Bishop of Le Puy, held back by a grave bodily ailment, began to fall ill; and weakened, he took to his sickbed. Having therefore addressed his sorrowful children with fatherly words, and having comforted them abundantly, entering the way of all flesh, as the disease grew worse, he departed in the Lord. An immoderate grief therefore arose throughout the entire soldiery of Christ: because he had been the counsel of the nobles, the hope of orphans, the support of the weak; to soldiers a military man, he raised and educated the clergy in a clerical manner; he shone with singular prudence, eloquent and pleasant, he was everything to everyone. Whence it came about that they revered him as a father and lord with their whole heart, since he was a patron to each one with inner affection. The sobbing army celebrated his funeral rites with episcopal honors; and having embalmed his body with what spices they could, they attended it with imperial gifts; and the crowds of orphans, tearfully and solemnly, buried their deceased father in the church of Blessed Peter. Scarcely could the people be torn away from his tomb, tearing their hair and faces; and having lost their bishop, they offered prolonged tears, which when wiped away, they again took thought for themselves.
For the Count of Saint-Gilles, in no way yielding to sloth or indolence, but rather making himself an enemy to the pagans with continual zeal, entered the land of the Saracens; and he came to Albara, a not insignificant city of theirs: his army captured it by violent assault, and reduced all the inhabitants of the city, of both sexes, to nothing by killing them; and he consigned the conquered city to his own dominion. Having chosen a bishop there, a prudent and honest man, they sent him to Antioch for consecration: they therefore appointed him as prelate in that same place, and a worthy steward for the Christian people. When the matters pertaining to religious worship had been arranged there, the month of November was approaching.
The agreed-upon time for departure was now at hand; and all were urged on about completing the journey. All the chief men therefore assembled in Antioch, where the greater part of the army had passed the summer. They found them rejoicing and exulting, except that on the Kalends of August they had buried the Bishop of Le Puy. After all had assembled, they began to discuss the pressing business, lest they be further delayed from their journey. Bohemond meanwhile was openly complaining about the city, that he did not yet have it entirely in his power. For he was addressing them about the agreed-upon pacts which they had made with him, while the city was still under siege before its capture. For they had pledged to him the lordship of the entire city, until the matter should be referred in full to the Emperor: the Count of Saint-Gilles could by no means be softened, but always spoke about the oath he had made to the Emperor; just as Bohemond himself had approved: "I never wish," he said, "to be convicted of perjury; nor will I in the meantime suffer that you alone should rule this city. Let the city at least be under common custody, and let us debate more freely about the journey to be undertaken. But if not, let our peers and equals determine by judgment what is just." This was the unresolvable quarrel between Bohemond and the Count of Saint-Gilles.
All the elders therefore assembled, and those whose expertise was preeminent, in the church of Blessed Peter, to see if so great a rivalry could be put to rest. The complaints of each litigant were carefully heard, while they awaited the determinations of expert judges. They retired to deliberate, and the matter was debated brilliantly and at length by skilled men; the verdict was deferred, lest the discord be increased. Therefore Duke Godfrey, and the Count of Flanders, and Robert of Normandy and the other leaders said: "Since at present we can give no verdict that would not displease one side, as best we can let us postpone this case under an agreement of peace; meanwhile something will happen." They replied to those waiting: "We can give no verdict at this time; but we wish and approve that, with this matter peacefully tabled, we hasten our journey, and when it is completed, either by judicial process or by the authority of our council, after we have returned with God's favor (only trust us), we will reconcile you with each other." All this was thus agreed, and it was confirmed, with hand placed in the hands of the bishops, that they would straightforwardly carry this out.
Bohemond therefore fortified the citadel that had been returned to him, with provisions and men, arms and sentinels; the count likewise fortified the palace of the Admiral Yaghi-Siyan, which he had seized beforehand, and the tower that is above the bridge, from the port of Saint Simeon. For so great were both the ambitions and the rivalries that neither trusted the other, as to which one under cloaked ambition was trying to claim the city for himself. Nor was this surprising given the honor and advantage at stake. For Antioch is a most beautiful and most strongly fortified city, and most wealthy in abundant revenues. Within it there are four rather high hills, on one of which, namely the highest, there is a citadel that overlooks the entire city. Below, the city is handsomely fortified and surrounded by a double wall: the inner wall is ample and extends into the air, and is compacted and joined together with great squared stones; in this wall's structure there are four hundred and fifty towers, adorned with handsome battlements and defended by ramparts; the outer wall is not of such great height, but nevertheless of admirable beauty. It contains within itself three hundred and forty churches. For its great primacy it has a patriarch, to whose patriarchate one hundred and fifty-three bishops are subject. From the East it is enclosed by four mountains; from the West, a river whose name is Farfar flows past the city walls. Eighty-five kings elevated and ennobled it by building: the greatest and first of whom was Antiochus, from whose name Antioch appears to have been named.
And since it was of such great authority and nobility, the Franks did not wish to rashly abandon it after its conquest, inasmuch as it had been the capital of all Syria, and had extended its primacy far and wide, and was going to subjugate even distant regions for them. The Christians had besieged it for eight months and one day, and had taken it. Then, in that same city already captured, the Gentiles held them besieged for three weeks. In that prolonged siege such a great assembly of Gentiles flowed together that no one remembered having seen or heard of a more abundant gathering of peoples. They rested therefore in it for five months and nine days. With so many matters pressing, they did not wish to abandon it carelessly, but entrusted it to faithful guardianship.
The Count and Bohemond, however, were privately plotting over it for themselves. They therefore fortified the city, as has been said; and in the month of November, about to set out for other places, having arranged various matters, they departed from Antioch. Count Raymond went out with his army and, having passed through two cities, Rugia and Albara, on the fifth day before the Kalends of December, he arrived at Marra, a fortified and wealthy city, filled with many nations of the Saracens.
On the following day he set about storming the city; but with the walls and defenders opposing him, he accomplished nothing at that time. Bohemond followed and on Sunday came to the aforesaid city. On the next day, namely Monday, they manfully attacked the city. For they raised ladders against the city wall, and harassed the defenders of the walls all day with various assaults, and likewise did them little harm. For ladders had been raised to the wall, but with the Turks shouting and fighting back, no one dared to climb. Those citizens also believed they could resist these attackers similarly, just as they had resisted Raymond Pilet in his attempt; but in the end their presumptuous hope deceived them.
For Count Raymond had a wooden siege engine constructed, which, so that it might be more convenient for moving, he had placed upon four wheels; it was of such great height that it overlooked the top of the walls and equaled the extension of the towers. They therefore moved that structure near a certain tower. The trumpets and horns sounded the battle call; armed ranks surrounded the walls, crossbowmen and archers directed their missiles, and those who were in the wooden tower hurled immense stones upward; priests and clergy humbly beseeched God to defend His Christendom, granting them safety and victory.
William of Montpellier was in the engine, and many others. And since that structure was taller than the walls, they harmed them more easily, inasmuch as stones hurled from above crashed down upon them. Those struck either on their shields or helmets or heads fell without difficulty and failed in every way. They also had iron hooks, with which they ceaselessly harassed one another. The Turks who were in the towers likewise attacked the Christians with arrows and stones; they hurled Greek fire into the engine, and allowed nothing to be idle.
The Christians on the other hand poured out oil which best extinguishes that fire; they attempted the ascent and drew back their foot; those who were atop the walls were fearful, yet failed in nothing. Thus that battle was prolonged until evening. So great indeed was the untiring valor of the Saracens, that they boldly repelled the stratagems of the Christians.
Gulferius de Turribus, however, a man of noble blood and admirable audacity, descended from Limousin stock, was the first to boldly climb the ladder and set foot on the wall. Some climbed after him, but not many; for the ladder broke and shattered. Nevertheless he defended the wall manfully; and, with the Pagans driven back, he called his companions both by gesture and by voice. Meanwhile another ladder was hastily raised, and through it many foot soldiers and knights advanced; finally so many climbed up that they seized the greater part of the wall, and drove back the citizens by fighting.
Nevertheless the Pagans rose up and attacked the Christians with all their strength: for they assailed them with such great force several times that some of the Franks dropped themselves from the wall, overcome by fear. More, however, remained on the wall, who for so long endured and repaid the frequent attacks, until the Christians had undermined the wall and opened a passage. When the Turks learned this, they feared to the point of desperation and were irretrievably hurled into flight.
The wealthy city of Marra was therefore captured in the evening hour, on Saturday, the third day before the Ides of December. It seemed good to the leaders of the city, in such great misery of panic, having gathered their sons and wives and their belongings, to assemble in the palace which was above the gate, so that at least sudden death might be delayed and tempered, and they might gain a moment more to live. For all those about to die hope for the greatest gain if they can prolong life even a little. The Christians indeed entered the conquered city, and whatever treasures they could find, either in houses or in pits, they rapaciously seized. And they pressed so hard upon the killing of the Saracens that they scarcely allowed anyone to live. And so in the entire city there was no street, nor corner, nor house, nor any place free from corpses; the steps of travelers were also grievously obstructed by the dead and densely packed bodies. The dread that usually arises in the living from the dead was absent there; for they had grown accustomed to the dead everywhere, as if they were living neighbors. Only the stench troubled them; for to sense, or to see, or to sleep among the dead without disgust had already become customary for them. Those who had gathered in the palace -- some were killed, others were led to Antioch, by Bohemond's order, either into servitude or for sale, and all were thus scattered, their possessions plundered; for those who faltered on the way were either buried under stones or run through with swords. And so the unfortunate citizens of Marra suffered the destruction we have described.
The Franks remained in that same city for a full month and three days. The Bishop of Orange, having fallen ill there, departed from the living and flew to those on high. From that delay a severe famine befell the army, since everything they had found in the city, horses and horsemen had consumed; nor outside the city, with the whole land depopulated, could they find even the smallest thing, and they had no market, whence it came about that from its very duration, this famine surpassed the hunger they had suffered in Antioch.
They were therefore compelled to touch with unfastidious teeth whatever was dishonorable or unusual, or harsh, or even unlawful. For it was reported and discovered that many ate Turkish flesh -- that is, human flesh -- spitted and roasted over fires, with shameless bites. And so they would go out secretly from the city, and at a distance, having lit fires, they cooked, and having consumed these unspeakable feasts -- for thus they provided for their wretched lives -- they returned as if they had done nothing of the sort. Nevertheless this word became public in the army: but since famine prevailed, punishment was suspended. The leaders, however, beat their chests and mouths, and stood silent in horror: nor yet was it imputed to them as a crime, since they endured that hunger willingly for God, and they fought against the enemies with both hands and teeth.
They committed unlawful acts indeed, but agonizing necessity compelled the violation of the law. For camp hunger craves everything, rejects nothing. What indeed do you not compel, cruel hunger? For this plague is incurable, and with food taken away, hunger increases daily. For no hardship can a man endure less than hunger: on which account it frequently happened that certain starving men, as if dreaming, gnawed at themselves with their own teeth. For nothing is more intolerable to a man than hunger. Others who truly wished to be more honorable split open the bodies of the Turks; since in their entrails they found gold coins, and that gold which they had swallowed, the Christians took for themselves.
So great a plague of starvation the Christians suffered in Marra; and very many perished from overpowering hunger. There again they spoke about reconciliation between Bohemond and Count Raymond; but after this matter accomplished nothing, Bohemond, immediately angered, returned to Antioch, and the journey to Jerusalem was disrupted to the detriment of the people. For the private feuds of princes ruin and afflict their subjects, when the one dissents from the other. For while each seeks what is his own, he grows cold toward the common good: peoples too are brought to common ruin when the leaders do not counsel one another.
And so the people bound for Jerusalem were greatly hindered by the particular quarrels of their leaders. Let therefore this third book now end, and let us gird ourselves again to begin the fourth.
Book Four
The cause of the mutual rivalry among the princes was in truth Antioch. Moreover the occasions of the quarrels were that one openly professed before all the oath made to the Emperor, which he by no means wished to violate; the other said the city had been given to him by all, and therefore wished to hold the gift made to him. Both claims were nevertheless true; and although the matter stood thus, since they were unable to be reconciled, this was a great impediment to the entire army. After Bohemond had withdrawn to Antioch, Count Raymond through his envoys addressed the princes who were at Antioch, and urged them to meet him at Rugia for the sake of discussion.
The summoned princes came to Rugia, namely Duke Godfrey and Robert of Normandy and Robert of Flanders, and they brought Bohemond with them. They spoke as the day before and the day before that about reconciling the leaders. After the matter again produced no result, those princes, saddened, returned to Antioch, since they had accomplished nothing yet about hastening the journey. Neither the count nor Bohemond wished to go, since they were still vehemently disputing about the city. Bohemond refused to go unless the entire city was given to him; nor the count, unless Bohemond accompanied them.
The count returned to Marra, where the Christian army was endangered by famine. But, pierced in heart, he generously mastered his own spirit, and in order to care for God's soldiers, he set out for Jerusalem. For he placed the cause of God before either his own will or advantage. Indeed the highest virtue in princes is to master themselves, unless they stubbornly persist; for in leaders, excessive obstinacy is the imperiling of all their subjects.
The count therefore commanded himself, lest he completely harm Christendom. He therefore saw to it by ordering his men to carefully fortify the palace of Cassianus. He therefore departed Marra on the Ides of January, barefoot, and voluntarily joined himself to the pilgrim folk: for this sign of the undertaken pilgrimage, the humbled count displayed. And so there was among the people a great joy in God; and as they set out, the Count of Normandy joined them at the city of Capharda, and there they rested for three days. The King of Caesarea therefore agreed to a pact of peace with the counts. For he had many times sent his envoys before Marra, and had proposed this agreement: that he would be peaceful toward the Christians and would willingly share much of his goods with them, provided that the untamed Frankish race did not aspire to disinherit him or depopulate his kingdom. He moreover gave them assurance that as long as his kingdom should be extended, he would allow absolutely no offense to the Christians, and would send them an abundant market.
They accepted this pledge of loyalty from the King of Caesarea, and proceeded on their way with greater confidence. Setting out from Capharda, they encamped beside the river Pharfar near Caesarea. And when the king saw the Franks encamped near his city, he was greatly distressed, because the presence of foreign camps beside him shamed him. And he said: 'Unless you remove your camp from the outskirts of our city at first light, you will violate the treaty entered into; and we shall withhold the market promised to you, and we shall provide for ourselves.'
In the morning therefore he sent two of his men to them, to teach them how to cross the river, and to lead the army into fertile land. They entered therefore a certain rich and abundant valley, above which was a castle, which immediately gave the counts security. They plundered there about five thousand animals. A great quantity of diverse provisions was also found there, and from the freely given abundance the whole army of Christ was refreshed. The garrison also gave the army horses, the purest gold, and much money; and they swore that they would in no way henceforth harm the pilgrims, nor subsequently deny them a market. They remained there for five days;
then departing from there, they arrived at a certain castle of the Arabs. The lord of the castle immediately came out to speak with them and to negotiate peace; and peace having been made, which pleased both sides, they moved on to another city, most beautiful in its walls and wealthy in all goods, situated in a certain valley, named Cephalia. But the citizens of that city, fearing the arrival of the Franks, went out of the city in terror, and left behind gardens full of vegetables, and houses full of provisions and wealth, frightened off and fleeing without counsel.
Having joyfully gained possession of all these things, on the third day they set out from there; and crossing over a high and immense mountain range precipitously, they descended again into a fertile valley, where they rested for twelve days. Not far from the valley was a castle, full of Saracens, which the Christians strove to seize by manful assault; and indeed they would have conquered it, had not the Gentiles driven out herds of animals, beasts of burden, and cattle, which the Christians seized, and thus rested from the castle that night. They therefore returned to their tents, bringing with them the animals which the garrison had sent out.
At twilight the Franks, having gathered their tents, were returning to the same castle, expecting to pitch their camp there. But the pagan people, exceedingly terrified, withdrew by night and abandoned the castle of its people. The Christians therefore entering hastily, although it was empty of people, nevertheless found it copious with the consolations of all abundance; for there was no lack of grain, nor wine, nor flour, nor barley, nor oil. If anyone remained there in want, the misfortune of his own sloth had produced that want's burden.
There the most devout celebrated the Purification of the Holy Mary on the second day of February. Envoys of the king from the city of Camela came there to the counts. For the king of that city sent the counts generous gifts, and established peace with them; he said also that he would never offend the Christians, but rather would love and honor them; provided only that the Christian people would show him the same in return.
The King of Tripoli also sent his envoys hastily to the counts, bringing them ten horses, four mules, and an immense weight of gold. When these had been offered, the envoys added: 'The King of Tripoli sends these things with these words, that you should have peace and friendship with him, and that you should love him as he truly loves you.' The counts neither made peace with him, nor accepted the gifts offered, but confidently replied: 'We reject all these things from you, until you strive to become a Christian.'
Setting out from that excellent valley, they crossed to a certain castle called Arqa, on the day before the Ides of February; beside which they pitched their camp. That town was fortified by an innumerable Pagan people, and by throngs of Arabs and Publicans. They therefore defended themselves manfully.
Fourteen Christian knights went toward Tripoli, which was not far from the army; they found sixty Turks who were leading before them many men -- Saracens, Turks, and Arabs, about one thousand five hundred -- and very many animals. The Christians attacked them persistently, and killed six of them, seized as many horses, put the others to flight, and led back the animals. For the invincible ferocity of the Franks terrified both those nearby and all those far away. For God so worked in them, that even now fourteen overcame sixty and put the remaining multitude to flight, the animals having been snatched from their very jaws.
From the army of Count Saint-Gilles, Raymond Pilet and Raymond the Viscount went out; and with not many knights, they rode about before the city of Tortosa; there was indeed a not inconsiderable multitude of pagans there. When evening had come, they withdrew to a secret place, and having lit fires in several advantageous locations, as if the entire army had arrived there, they spent the night in that place. When the sun had risen the Franks assembled to attack the city; finding it empty they occupied it, until there was a siege of the castle.
There was another city not far from that one, called Maraclea. The emir who governed it, having made a pact with the Christians, brought Frankish banners into it. Meanwhile Duke Godfrey, the Count of Flanders, and Bohemond came as far as the city of Latakia.
Bohemond, again separating from them, returned to Antioch, which he greatly desired to be his own. The duke and the count besieged a certain city whose name was Gibellum. Count Raymond heard that the Gentiles were approaching with great wedges of warriors, and were preparing a battle not uncertain against the Christians. He therefore sent to his allies who had been besieging Gibellum, saying: 'A battle threatens us, no uncertain one, and ranks of pagans are assembling against us. Therefore with the city you have been besieging, we wish you to make terms of peace; be ready, more prepared, to defend your brothers. It is better that we come together and fight, than that we be separated from one another and overcome. In wars the delay is brief, but for the victors the gain is the greatest; sieges consume much time, and besieged towns are scarcely subjugated. Wars will subdue nations and kingdoms for us: our enemies, conquered in war, will vanish like smoke: when the war is finished and the enemy defeated, a vast empire will lie open before us. It is therefore good that we come together, since if we can win God as our leader and our guide, without doubt we shall immediately triumph over our enemies. Hasten, I say, lest our rivals find us unprepared when they arrive.'
The duke and the count gladly heard the embassy, since they hungrily craved battle; they made peace with the emir of Gibellum, and having received from him gifts -- gold, mules, and other things -- with terms that pleased them, and having left the city, they set out to aid their brothers; but then they did not find the Turks they expected. Therefore with the battle they desired frustrated, their will to fight was frustrated on that day; they encamped, however, beyond the river, and from that side besieged that castle.
Not long after, some Christians rode toward Tripoli, attempting whatever they could to harm those Gentiles. They therefore found that people spread out beyond the city -- Arabs and the Tripolitans themselves and Turks -- similarly awaiting the Christians' sortie, and lurking as if in ambush. Each side persistently attacked the other: the Saracens indeed sustained the first attacks for a while, and struggled for a longer time. At last, under the blows, they turned their backs; and in that retreat they lost many of their own.
Many of the more noble citizens also fell there. Women, mothers and maidens, from the vantage of the battlements, cursed the Christians, and were anxious and groaned for their own people; and yet perhaps some of them applauded in their hearts the valor of the Franks. So great was the slaughter of the Pagans that day, and the shedding of blood, that the river which flowed past the city appeared to have turned red; and the cisterns of the citizens, which were within the bosom of the city and which that river fed, were fouled, contaminated by that blood.
The greatest grief and mourning therefore fell upon the Tripolitans, both for their slain leaders and for their cisterns polluted by the foul incursion of blood. Moreover on that day, afflicted by two losses, they shed double tears: it distressed them that the Franks had unexpectedly won the trophy; it grieved them that their cisterns, which they valued highly, had suffered bloody defilement.
The Tripolitans were terrified to the point of collapse, and further, besieged without a siege, they did not dare to go out the city gate. The neighbors of the Tripolitans were struck by the same misfortunes. The Franks, having gained a joyful victory, returned to their own people singing hymns to God.
On the next day knights from the army rode beyond the valley of Desem to plunder the land; and finding oxen and donkeys, sheep and camels, of which the number was nearly three thousand, loaded with such great plunder, they returned with joy to the camp. They sat therefore before that castle, for it was exceedingly impregnable, for three months and one day. They also celebrated their Easter there, on the fourth day before the Ides of April.
For the ships of the Christians, which we mentioned at first, had landed at a certain port that was quite safe and near the castle; they had supplied those soldiers with grain and wine, cheese and oil, beans and lard, and a market of every abundance. For this reason they had also sat there so long, since the fleet had sustained them, and they frequently went out to plunder the wealthy land. They went out, I say; and since they were in no way cheated of their aim, for that reason they returned more cheerful, and were vehemently spurred on to ride out again.
There also many Christians were killed, since the swords of the Saracens were not always blunt, nor was their military skill always idle, nor their hand weak; for they also killed Anselm of Ribemont, and William Picard, men of noble blood and skilled in military affairs, whose outstanding deeds were clearly attested in that army of Christ. And many others fell, whose names the memorial of their life may preserve; for we cannot all do everything.
The King of Tripoli through intermediaries frequently addressed the Christian leaders, and tested their spirits in every way, that by giving them gifts they might make a pact with him, abandon the castle, and accept the agreed-upon money. The Christians proposed Christianity to him, nor could they be swayed from their resolution by any other means. That king greatly resisted Christianity, since he feared and was ashamed to abandon the laws of his fathers and the customs of his ancestors.
As time progressed, the new crops had turned white, since that tract of land steams with greater heats than the lands on this side of the mountains; and therefore a hastier summer ripens hastier harvests. By mid-March, new beans were being gathered; by the Ides of April, grain was being cut, and the autumn of the vintage was returning.
The Duke of Normandy, the Count of Flanders, the Count of Toulouse, and Tancred therefore discussed the journey to be completed, since the opportune time was now pressing, indeed had almost passed. Therefore having abandoned the castle they had long besieged, they came to Tripoli, and made a pact with the Tripolitans: the king indeed gave them fifteen thousand bezants, and fifteen horses of great value, and returned to them three hundred pilgrims whom he had long held captive. Finally under the pretense of peace, he provided them a market, from which all were refreshed; and he firmly pledged to them that if the battle which the Emir of Babylon was preparing against them they could ever overcome, he himself would become a Christian and would hold his land in fealty to them. And so they departed from the city in mid-May.
They had to go, and they traveled all day through a narrow, steep, and pathless road; and in the evening they arrived at a castle whose name was Bethoron. Then they approached a city situated on the seacoast, which is called Zebaris. There, on account of the scarcity of water, they suffered an immoderate anguish of thirst, by which, greatly parched, they directed their course to the river Braim: there they were refreshed as regards drink, both men and beasts of burden.
On the day of the Lord's Ascension they had to travel through a narrow road; there they feared the raiding of the Gentiles all day; yet while fearing, they did not cease from going. Standard-bearers and knights, armed, went ahead; and they guarded the whole army from ambushers; behind followed the provisioners of the baggage, and the helpers of the pack-animals: in the rear hastened the military order, and all were present for the needs of all. Thus daily the baggage-train servants hurried along, and flocks of non-combatant companies accompanied them.
Trumpets were heard, and they proceeded on the road step by step, lest the weaker ones fail: They kept watch by turns through the nights; and where greater fear pressed, there a more vigilant guard was prepared. For they allowed nothing ill-considered, nothing disorderly: the undisciplined were punished, the ignorant were instructed, the rebellious were rebuked, the incontinent were reproached for their incontinence, and all were commonly urged to almsgiving. All also devoted themselves to frugality and chastity; and, if I may say so, there was a kind of school of moral discipline in the camp. This was the manner and this was the form of those marching to Jerusalem.
As long as they maintained this rigor of discipline, and overflowed with charitable affection, God evidently dwelt among them, and through them fought His wars. We have said these things so that, by extolling them, we might reproach the life and conduct of those undisciplined men who arrogantly succeeded this glorious expedition. For nothing is more useful among men than discipline.
Having crossed those mountains, in which enemies were feared, without encountering the enemy, they came to a city by the sea whose name is Beirut; and from there to another which is called Sidon; and thence to another which is called Tyre, and from Tyre to Acre; and from Acre to a castle called Haifa; and from there they came to lodge near Caesarea, where on the day of Pentecost, the fourth day before the Kalends of June, they rested.
When that day had been solemnly spent, as is the custom of Christians, and having gathered their tents and completed the next stage of the pressing journey, they arrived at the city called Ramla; and there, weary from the road, they halted; the citizens of that city, fearing their arrival, since in that town they did not dare to engage the Christians in battle, abandoned it empty and escaped in flight.
Near that little city a venerable church was shown, in which the most precious body of the blessed martyr George had rested, since, having been detained there by the pagans, the blessed athlete had completed his blood-sprinkled course. This place had had a bishop in former times; but now enslaved to paganism, having lost the dignity of a bishop, it was ingloriously subjected to the arrogance of the Saracens.
The Christians groaned, attracted at least by love of the most unconquered George; for the one whom they had heard and seen in the battle of Antioch as forerunner and herald, and as champion against the erring people, they wished always to earn as their companion and defender: for the Gentiles are accustomed to say that he is always hostile to them.
They saw the walls of the church adorned with buildings, and it deserted of people; they therefore restored to the desolate city its former dignity and appointed a chosen bishop over it. For they trusted in the Lord that that region would be subjected to them, and therefore they strove to restore the fullness of Christendom.
But since the restored bishop did not yet have small properties by which he might live, since all the estates of that church were producing nothing but thorns; the Christians offered him tithes of their possessions, with which generous contributions having been made, the aforesaid bishop might live and restore the church.
They also asked him to preserve the purity of the faith; and to summon the people to the catholic faith. They suggested to him that he should patiently bear the desolation of the impoverished region; since He who had once become poor for the sake of restoring Christians, having nowhere to lay His head, behold, being called upon, as one who cannot be unheard, would effectively work together with him. For he should know that He had said to His co-workers: "Behold, I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the age" (Matthew 28:20).
With these matters thus arranged at Ramla, they decided that the journey to Jerusalem must be hastened at dawn; with the signal given, they took to the road; and as they had long desired, on that day they arrived at the city. For Jerusalem is not very far from Ramla, but about twenty-four miles.
On that night before the morrow when they came to Jerusalem, no night, I believe, was more troublesome or more tedious for them on the journey; it was like a kind of provocation of their long-standing hunger. For when food is shown to one who has been starving for three days, but is not handed over, with how great a desire, as if new, do you think he is seized again? So those who had set out on the road to Jerusalem, and had endured so many sleepless nights for this purpose, after they learned that on the next day they would arrive there, how great an impediment do you think that lingering night caused them?
Other nights had brought them cold, or fear, or battles; this night, which is more grievous, set ablaze a deferred desire. They scarcely believed that day would come, which nevertheless they knew would come, which would satisfy their vows, which would show them the desired city. That morning was awaited and it was not unknown that it would soon dawn; but because it seemed to be delayed, the deferred longing was thereby increased: for to a desiring soul, nothing hastens fast enough. Day dawned, and the tireless people of God climbed the mountains that lay ahead; and so they went joyfully, since that day was about to bring an end to their year-long labors. That day was desirable, like the last day of a hired worker. When indeed they came to the place from which they could gaze upon towered Jerusalem, who could worthily recount how many tears they shed? Who could fittingly express those emotions? Joy wrung forth sighs and immense happiness generated sobs. All, upon seeing Jerusalem, halted and adored; and bending the knee they kissed the holy ground; all would have walked with bare feet, had not the fear of the enemy required them to proceed armed. They went and wept; and those who had come for the sake of praying, first eagerly bore arms, prepared to fight.
The Siege of Jerusalem
They therefore wept over her, over whom their Christ too had wept, and — wondrous to say — they besieged her over whom they wept, on Tuesday, the eighth day before the Ides of June. They besieged her, I say, not as stepchildren besiege a stepmother; but as sons besiege a mother. For they besieged her not with that siege of which the Lord had said: "Behold, the days will come upon you, and your enemies will surround you, and will press you hard and your children who are within you" (Luke 19). Now on the contrary, friends surrounded her, and sons pressed hard upon foreigners and illegitimate occupants. For behold, she had no sons within her who would rule over her with good counsel; but now she suffered lords who were exiles and strangers, lawless and impure, who dominated her as a captive with an abusive yoke. They therefore besieged her, not to capture a free city, but to free a captive one.
Robert, Duke of Normandy, besieged it from the northern side, near the church of the blessed Stephen the Protomartyr, where, stoned by the Jews, he fell asleep in the Lord: beside him the Count of Flanders placed his tents: from the west Duke Godfrey and Tancred besieged it: from the south the Count of Saint-Gilles besieged it, namely on Mount Zion, near the church of the most blessed Mary, Mother of God, where the Lord Jesus dined with His disciples. Jerusalem, thus besieged, was enclosed by its sons; but within it was profaned by the Muslim peoples.
On the third day knights went out from the Christian camp, namely Raymond Pilet, and Raymond of Taurina with many others, either for the purpose of scouting or plundering; and they overcame and put to flight two hundred Arabs they had found; they killed many of them, and there seized thirty horses. With these things accomplished, they returned cheerfully to their own people.
On Monday, they resolutely attacked the city; and, as they thought, they would indeed have prevailed at that time, if they had prepared sufficient ladders. Nevertheless they breached the outer wall, and raised one ladder and moved it to the inner wall. Upon it Christian knights climbed in turns; and they fought hand to hand on the wall with the Saracens, and struck them with swords and lances. In that engagement many were killed from both peoples, though more perished from among the Gentiles.
When the trumpet for retreat was heard, the Christians finally ceased from that attack and returned to camp. But the provisions they had brought with them had meanwhile run out; nor was bread any longer to be found for purchase, nor could they go out to forage for grain, either because that region is by no means irrigated, indeed is torrid and utterly arid, and therefore less suitable for beasts of burden and animals, inasmuch as it is poor in pasture, nor is that land wooded, and therefore less fruitful, except that it nourishes the palm and the olive: it does, however, also support the vine.
The Jordan is separated from Jerusalem by about thirty stadia, as they think; it has lakes, but they are remote. The city has its own cisterns from which it is sustained. At the foot of Mount Zion there is the fountain of Siloam, but it could scarcely sustain even a few people; yet it helped; and at great expense a small amount of water was obtained. They led horses to drink, not without excessive fear, for six miles.
Meanwhile it was announced in the camp that Christian cargo ships had landed in the port of Jaffa, which we believe is called Joppa by its ancient name; which greatly pleased all the soldiers. The princes deliberated how they might make safe those going and returning who would bring necessities from the ships; for Joppa or Jaffa is about eight miles distant from Ramla.
Moreover the Ascalonites, or the natives, who roamed either in the mountains or in the hollowed-out tunnels of precipices, from time to time attacked and slaughtered travelers. This disturbance, or rumor, disrupted the supply line of merchants. To deal with this, at first light, from the army of the Count of Saint-Gilles, Raymond Pilet, Achard of Montmerle, William of Sabran, and certain knights went out, along with some foot soldiers, heading back toward the sea.
They went along, trusting in their own boldness, fighting their way to the port: we are uncertain whether by design, or by delays encountered along the way, or by ignorance of the road, they were separated from one another. For thirty knights, taking a different road, were separated from the others; these thirty found a hundred Arabs, along with some Turks and Saracens, from the army of the Emir, and they boldly attacked them and joined battle. Those men on the other side stubbornly resisted, and trusting in their numbers, the many surrounded the few: for this is the manner of fighting of the Saracens.
Already they had enclosed the Christians, and already, chattering about their deaths, they were confident; when a messenger, shouting to Raymond Pilet, came out thus: "Unless you fly most swiftly to your fellow soldiers, to bring them aid, you have certainly lost them all; for already they are surrounded by enemies; yet still they somehow defend themselves." They loosened the reins, and spurred the horses with bronze spurs; and faster than words, all flew to the rescue; and with shields held before their chests, they drove back the Turks with lances, scattered those who opposed them, and each man struck down his foe on the ground.
For they suddenly fell upon those who were unaware, and committed the whole matter to their swords. They therefore prevailed over them: but the enemy, forming two lines again, thought they could resist; nor did they accomplish anything. For the Franks again fiercely attacked them, and thus liberated their own from that assault, except that they lost Achard of Montmerle, a most audacious knight, there, and some foot soldiers. The Turks therefore turned their backs, and hastened their flight already begun, but many were pierced by the spear-points of the pursuers — they were routed: for they pursued them for nearly four miles. They also retained there one hundred and three horses and one living man, who, under compulsion, recounted in order everything that was being prepared against the Christians.
Meanwhile during the siege of Jerusalem, a violent thirst was raging and pressing upon the Christian camp; yet they sewed together the fresh hides of oxen, buffaloes, and horses, and in sewn-together water-skins they carried water over a distance of six miles. They led their horses there to water: but the pagans laid ambushes for them, and from the narrow defiles of the places grievously opposed them. Yet the water which they conveyed, as if seized by force, was so foul-smelling that even the horses spurned it; upon smelling it they wrinkled their contracted nostrils, and from the disgust of nausea, they sneezed. But this suffering was insatiable: for men can endure hunger longer than thirst. If any signs of springs were found, either the pagans had blocked them and diverted the channels elsewhere; or lurking brigands, intent on harm, were watching them. The Kidron and other streams had dried up in the scorching heat. Barley bread in the camp was a precious commodity. For the native inhabitants, hiding in caves or caverns, had concealed all provisions.
And so the Christian army was imperiled day by day in such great misery. The appointed princes assembled for council, and they discussed what course of action pressed upon them in such great calamities. They said therefore: "Distress on every side: bread has failed, water is lacking. We ourselves are grievously besieged, while we think we have besieged this city. We scarcely dare to go out beyond the camp, and then we return empty-handed. From our long delay we have contracted this want; and unless we take precautions, we shall contract a worse one. With arms and strength alone, without siege engines, we cannot storm this city. The walls stand against us, the ramparts stand against us, the towers stand against us; the rebels stand against us, those defenders who overflow within. What then, conscript fathers, do you advise? Let us have pity on this people; and let us at last undertake something that may profit all of us, that may harm the enclosed citizens; that may also deliver us from these labors. Yet the gravest difficulty is what is necessary for undertakings of this kind. This land does not bear trees; for if we could find trees anywhere, we would indeed exert ourselves to build engines that might look down upon those walls, that might equal the higher towers. Let us seek therefore, either let us carry off beams from houses, or timbers from churches, or from whatever other material let us erect assembled engines, and let us attack this city with all our might; otherwise we waste our time in vain."
At last they found timber, although it was far distant from the place, which indeed they brought with great labor. Carpenters were summoned from the entire army, by whose skill the engines might be assembled. Now therefore they set to work, and some smoothed the rough surface of the timbers; and others hewed, others bored, others joined timbers to timbers; and soon they were erecting engines. For Duke Godfrey was constructing one at his own expense: and the Count of Toulouse had likewise ordered another to be erected at his own cost.
The craftsmen therefore pressed on with those works skillfully. No less were those tireless Saracens anxious about fortifying the city; and at night they labored at raising the towers higher, and restlessly devoted themselves to defending the city. Meanwhile the more sharp-sighted men explored which part of the city was less fortified; and thither on a certain Sabbath, in the dead of night, they transported the engine of Duke Godfrey, which they erected at sunrise on the eastern side. This also on Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday, with all diligence they prepared and fitted together. The Count of Saint-Gilles was erecting his engine on the southern side, which engines we may call wooden siege-castles on account of their great protective structure. The Count brought his castle close to the wall; but between the wall and the castle there lay open a certain deep precipice, which was utterly impassable for the approaching siege-castle; for one could neither lead such engines to sloping places, nor direct them against hilly terrain; but in order to be moved it always requires a level plain.
Therefore heralds cried out through the army: that whoever threw three stones into that ditch would have one denarius for the stones thrown. All therefore for whom those delays had been tedious, for you could scarcely find a little water to cool the tongue for a denarius, either gladly applied themselves to hauling stones, or yearned to attack the city.
The Exhortation before the Assault
Before they attacked the city, therefore, the bishops and priests, clothed in priestly vestments, addressed the people; and a certain one, stationed in a higher place, began thus: "Hear, brothers and lords. Although everything that we are about to say to you at present, you yourselves already know, for you have heard these things many times; yet it is very beautiful and sweet and delightful to always speak of the Lord our God: you must always hear and effectively understand without ceasing. In this city that lies before you, Christ redeemed you; in this city God established Christianity; from this city the sacrament of Christendom emanated even to us. From our own lands, that we might pray here and kiss the sepulchre of our God, we have come. This which you see is the cause of all our labor. This, moreover, is the likeness of heavenly Jerusalem. This is the image of that city to which we aspire. Do you see with what obstinacy, vile and foolish and utterly exiled as they are, they oppose us for this city? Do you see with what stupidity, those whose right it is not, contend against us for what ought to be ours? You know, finally, with what rashness they pollute the sanctuary of God, with how many innumerable abominations they have subjected the holy city. Certainly, if you are willing to consider well and rightly, this Jerusalem, which you see, to which you have come, at which you are present, both prefigures and foreshadows that heavenly city: behold, visible enemies deny this to us: furthermore invisible enemies beset the paths leading to that other city, against whom the struggle is spiritual. And it is more grievous for us to wrestle against spiritual wickedness in the heavenly places, than against the flesh and blood that we see. Those who snarl in that little city are the shadow of those others, and are inferior and weaker than their masters. But if those, who are nearly nothing, shall be able to prevail and take from us the city we see, what do you think the masters will do, when such servants rejoice?" It is certainly to be feared that that heavenly city will be closed to us, taken from us, if, while we are idle, our house is seized by malignant intruders. We shall be utterly unwarlike and ineffective in spiritual combat, if against foolish dogs, unable even to bark back, effeminate and unarmed, fearful of any kind of death, we do not rise up. Awake therefore, household of Christ; awake, soldiers and infantry ready for action: and seize this city firmly, which is indeed our commonwealth, and attend to Christ, who even today in this city is proscribed and crucified; and from the cross, with Joseph, take him down for yourselves; and in the sepulchre of your heart, place that incomparable treasure, that desirable treasure; and from these impious crucifiers manfully rescue him. For as often as these evil judges, the accomplices of Herod and Pilate, mock or oppress your brothers, so often do they crucify Christ: as often as they torment and kill them, so often do they drive the lance of Longinus into the side of Christ. All these things indeed they do; and, what is worse, they mock and reproach Christ himself and our law, and with rash mouths they provoke us. What therefore are you doing? Is it right for you to hear these things, to see these things, and not groan?
To fathers and sons and brothers and nephews I say: If some foreigner should strike one of your number, would you not avenge your blood? Much more ought you to avenge your God, your Father, your brother, whom you see being reviled, proscribed, crucified; whom you hear crying out desolate and begging for help: 'I have trodden the winepress alone, and of the nations there is no man with me' (Isaiah 63:3). Act therefore, and confidently fit your arms upon yourselves; and steadfastly, as God's helpers, attack this city, and let it be a beautiful thing to die for Christ, in this region, for those for whom Christ died in this city. Begin the war, therefore; he himself, your leader, will supply the war's reinforcement, and the reward of good will and glorious action."
The Capture of Jerusalem
The hero had made an end of speaking, and all, now girded with arms, were attacking the city unanimously; each one was now exhorting himself, each one was to himself both priest and bishop. On Thursday therefore and Friday, night and day, they pressed upon the city. After prayers and fasts and sobs and alms had been sent forth, and after they had been fortified by communion of the sacred viaticum, on Friday at earliest dawn they attacked the city; but they could not prevail: for those who were in the towers or on the walls were helping one another, and were continually hurling fire and stones. The Count of Toulouse, with the ditch filled — for in three days and nights he had scarcely completed it — brought his siege-castle to the wall, and was angered by the delay to his men. But at the very hour at which the Lord suffered by the will of the Jews, the Christians, not unmindful of that passion, as if with fresh strength taken up again, and with a certain new boldness coming upon them, Duke Godfrey and his brother Eustace, with the hands of all and their own, fought bravely: for the other leaders were following after them.
Then a certain soldier, named Letaldus, scaled the wall, and fighting steadfastly, cried out. Others followed him immediately. Those who had been defending the walls up to that point were fleeing in every direction, and no longer cared about protecting the city. The multitude of Christians, having entered the city, was pursuing the fugitives, and spared no one. The Emir, who presided over the Tower of David, terrified, surrendered himself to the Count; and immediately opened the gate to him, at which pilgrims used to be violently extorted of their money to enter: for there they were accustomed to pay tolls; otherwise, they were mercilessly barred from the gate.
The citizens fleeing to the Temple of Solomon gathered there; and still in it they presumed to defend themselves. They therefore delivered great assaults upon the Christians there, but after they saw they were accomplishing nothing, throwing down their swords, they submitted their necks to death. No one knows the number of those who were slain; but the blood that flowed through the temple reached up to the ankles of those walking through it; and throughout the entire city there were great heaps of corpses, since the Christians showed mercy to neither age, nor sex, nor nobility, nor any condition. For they pursued them with such great hatred, because they had appropriated the Temple of the Lord and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and the Temple of Solomon, and other churches for their own illicit uses and had indecently contaminated them.
Some had fled onto the Temple of Solomon, who, having asked for and received the banner of Tancred, so that they might at least thus be spared, were awaiting whatever fortune might come: but they gained little or nothing, because the Christians did not spare even them: except that they preserved some alive for a time to carry out the dead, whom they eventually either sold or alienated from life above. And yet Tancred was greatly saddened by this: yet he was not enraged against the Christians over this: he kept silent, therefore, and was wholly at peace from that disturbance. He ordered the Emir who had surrendered himself to him and had given up the citadel of David to him, and the others who were with him, to be conducted safely to Ascalon. For thus he had covenanted with them, and wished to keep his pact inviolate.
But they did not plunder or burn that city in the manner of a conquered city; but just as they found the houses full of all good things, they reserved them, appropriated for their own needs, and many generously shared what they found with the poorer. Now, gladdened by the long-desired triumph, with hands washed from slaughter, many with bare feet rejoicing, and weeping for joy, they hastened in throngs to kiss the Sepulchre of the Savior; and there they offered grateful gifts and peace offerings. But who could now fittingly explain that joy? Better therefore let each one think within himself, and consider how great it must have been, rather than blame me as a barren and word-poor interpreter: each one I therefore send back to himself, so that at least in this way neither may rise up against me. For the joy was immense, when all had obtained what they had long awaited. There they saw the end of their labor; and now more secure, from present things they imagined future rewards of good things yet to come.
They also took care about the carrying out of the corpses, since the most monstrous horror and stench was growing stronger: they therefore assigned that task to the living pagans, and since they were not sufficient, they committed the same business again to poor Christians, for a price; and those bodies, heaped upon pyres, they afterwards burned, and thus they cleansed the city of its filth.
They sat in the city giving worthy thanks to God, the one who had prospered their journey and their labor, and the magnificent triumpher over the treacherous pagans. For they did not ascribe this victory to their own strength, but attributed it entirely to God who worked in them both the willing and the ability. They also restored their dignities to the churches, and fitted each of them for the work of prayer. They therefore poured forth tears in each of them; and rendered their vows all day long with the incense of compunction. They kept those days as solemn festivals, and as it were sabbatized, celebrating the feasts of a certain Jubilee. The day on which they recovered the city they established as a celebrated day, the fifteenth day of July, a Friday. That triumphal day they rightly cherish, all who, rejoicing together in the liberation of that city and the victory of the Christian people, applaud.
The Election of Godfrey as King
They also took counsel about establishing a king there; and the leading men exchanged the following speech among themselves: "We give thanks to our Lord, distinguished nobles, who has given glory to his name; and to us, his servants, has granted victory. You see, our lords, to what port of rest God has brought the public cause of our journey: you see in what condition he has placed the culmination of our mutual desire: but why should we recapitulate each thing that he has accomplished through us, or we through him? Behold, the time presses that some of us, now that what we long desired has been fulfilled, may think of returning home. But before this holy assembly is dissolved, we must provide to whom this city shall be entrusted to be governed: to whom the people who will remain here may look, who as a wise steward may devote the care of protection to them. For what does it profit that we obtained this city through a thousand deaths, if, God forbid, it should happen that we fail to preserve it? But why did we come here from the ends of the earth? Why did we endure so many and so great labors, hastening to another quarter of the sun, if at last we return with the city left without counsel? Let us therefore first provide for the city, so that afterward those who are to return may more freely provide for themselves.
This city from antiquity has had royal dignity and at the same time has held the eminence of a patriarchate. For though we pass over, as it were, Melchizedek, a contemporary of Abraham, if we come to more modern times, and reckon the genealogy and line of kings from David to Josiah, and from the Babylonian captivity, we shall seem to have woven a rather long tale; and yet we shall have proved that this city has had kings.
Furthermore, we do not doubt that in this same city James, the brother of the Lord, presided as bishop. For this reason we approve this city as worthy of an Apostolic see, because more recent Christendom has assumed the title of dignity in a patriarch. Let us therefore consider a man who may fittingly excel in royal virtue: who before God may show himself a servant, before men may show himself a king; who may love the worship of God, cherish the people, and maintain the military. For this monarchy, which is adjacent to the Saracens, cannot be defended without a military force. We say the same about a patriarch: because these two necessities must be provided for. The kingdom needs the priesthood; the priesthood must be sustained and protected by the kingdom. And since you know that each of these things is absolutely necessary, and since other matters besides remain for us to discuss, let us set words aside and come to action; and let us elect Duke Godfrey, whom we may appoint as substitute ruler over this city.
For many things come together in him that befit royal dignity. He is, as we all know, a man of royal blood, of Christian profession from his ancestors, skilled in warfare in the French manner, a man most effective in military affairs in both heart and arm: for which reason he has been singularly approved in all things in this expedition. Serenity especially shines forth in him, clemency flourishes in him, which twin sisters especially befit princes. He uniquely loves generosity, because he has freely poured out his entire patrimony and whatever he had of his own in this campaign; or rather, he has prudently invested it in the service of God. He will be hostile to the pagans as an enemy; and he will manfully champion the Christians. Finally, to use another's words, and to briefly comprehend the fullness of the ideal prince: he is one who knows how to 'spare the conquered and subdue the proud.' Let us therefore now address him with a divine oracle, and command him with an authoritative precept: 'Hear, O daughter, and see, and forget your people and the house of your father, and come into the land that I have shown you, and I will make you into a great nation' (Psalm 45:12).
He has brothers, he has relatives and acquaintances and kinsmen by marriage; he has many soldiers under him who will all remain with him willingly, and will fight the wars of God with him. But you, most excellent prince, whom today God has chosen as king, be a soldier of God and fight the battles of the Lord: from God we enjoin this upon you." And laying hands on him they seized him, saying: "And behold, we designate you king under God: may the Lord be with you and direct your deeds and increase the excellence of your character for good: and bind his enemies in your hands."
The Appointment of Patriarch Arnulf
"The same we say also about a patriarch: for he will be absolutely necessary both to the people of God and to the king himself. Furthermore, concerning the person to be chosen, nothing better occurs to us at present than that we should bring forward lord Arnulf, a man eminently educated in the liberal arts; and that we should appoint him as vicar for this charge, until by deliberative counsel we shall have decreed either him or another to be enthroned. For we know him to be preeminent in the rigor of justice, powerful in eloquence of speech: moreover very many qualities that befit a bishop converge in him. But since we cannot at present establish this counsel (for we are hastening to other matters), we think this matter (namely concerning whomever is to be enthroned) should be postponed: except that we nominate lord Arnulf, who may supply the functions of bishop, and in the meantime may speak with the voice of a shepherd: he himself, perhaps the day after tomorrow, if perchance he yields to those requesting, will be enthroned; or in whatever way the matter ought to proceed, it will be deliberated. For behold, swearing and lamenting, he irrefragably resists becoming pontiff himself, but at least he will preside in giving counsel. For now, let him serve as bishop in counsel: until the one whom God shall have provided as suitable for himself, may serve as bishop in office." On the eighth day after the city was captured, the election of the Duke as king was made.
The Battle of Ascalon
Meanwhile messengers came to Tancred and Count Eustace, that they should proceed swiftly to receive the city of Nablus: for the inhabitants of that city wanted to surrender themselves into their hands; taking guards and many retainers, they came to the city: which was immediately pacified and surrendered to them. They remained there and rested joyfully, until the Duke, or rather the King, sent most swift envoys to them, who said to them: "We have heard, and it is certain, that the Emir of Babylon is at Ascalon, and there prepares a great war against us. Hasten therefore and come, so that we too may be able to boldly confront them, before they can shut us up in the city. For then we would not be able to fight them on equal terms. For those who are shut in, both going out and coming in is difficult, and an unfitting fear frequently troubles them. But if we engage in the open field, with God as guide, a freer and easier outcome will follow for us. We are indeed more nimble in arms and hand than they. And we wish to confront them where they will not yet expect to have anything to fear." They, going out from the city, were continually ranging through the mountains, investigating whether perchance they might find Saracens somewhere, whom they might harm in any way.
They came therefore along the sea to the city of Ramla; and they found many Arabs, running ahead of the army of the Emir: whom, attacking with total confidence of mind and without delay, they scattered from one another, and having killed some, they kept some alive who would bring them news, and would report whatever they could about the Emir and his army, so that having heard these things, they themselves might more skillfully take precautions.
They therefore examined every detail to perfection: who they were, what a countless people they were, what they were preparing, in what place they were arranging to prevail. When these things had been carefully heard, the captives indeed, with their lives promised, spoke clearly. Tancred spoke thus to the king and the princes through messengers: "Know without doubt that war has been prepared against us at Ascalon; and nearly the entire world has assembled and conspired, who think to violently crush and subjugate us. Come therefore, and with all your forces gathered, 'let us break their bonds, and let us cast their yoke from us' (Psalm 2:3). For if, as you have commanded, we confront them unafraid, for that very reason we shall prevail over them far more easily. They are assembling to besiege us and bring their engines to storm the city: let us rise up against them unexpectedly. For after they have seen the matter proceed contrary to their hope, they will be stupefied and will wither; and so wherever they can, they will flee. And we shall plunge our swords up to the hilt into their very entrails, and shall triumph victoriously over them."
The King proclaimed through a herald that all should be forewarned about the war of which they were being warned; and that all should energetically follow the king's banner. "For our enemies," he said, "are all assembling at Ascalon, about to come upon us in battle: go forth to meet them, all of you, and let no one remain except the infirm." Therefore the King went out, and the appointed Patriarch, and the Count of Flanders and the Bishop of Martirano, on Tuesday from the city.
For the Count of Saint-Gilles and Robert, Duke of the Normans, did not wish to go out until they were more certain about the incursion of that Emir: "Why," they said, "should we tire ourselves in vain? First let us have the matter confirmed, and then we shall go out more confidently." They sent, however, scouts from their own men, soldiers who would report certain news so that they themselves would more unhesitatingly believe those reporting to them. Who, having seen all that was being prepared, returned at a swift pace, and testified to what they had seen with a faithful account. The King also, not sufficiently trusting their report, sent the Bishop of Martirano to Jerusalem, who would testify to the princes whatever was being prepared. For that man would more competently speed things along, who had seen these things with his own eyes, and had departed from the King's side on the same day.
The Bishop of Martirano, in order to report the declared words of the counts to the patriarch and king (for he had already spoken to the Count of Toulouse and the Norman), fell into the hands of the pagans; and it is uncertain whether he was carried off or killed; but afterwards he did not appear. The Count of Toulouse and the Norman, with many others, set out to war; and on Wednesday they departed from Jerusalem. The clergy and the sparse crowd of feeble people who had remained in the city, and Peter the Hermit, and the unwarlike class of women, were conducting processions from church to church, intent on prayers and fasts, so that God might be propitious to his people, and might irrecoverably strike down their enemies before them with a strong hand, and might bring them back, defended from their enemies, with the joy of safety and triumph. The clergy, as has been said, were devoted to masses and other prayers.
The leaders therefore with their armies gathered at the river that is opposite Ascalon: there, having found abundant herds, they were enriched with rich plunder, and all who were in need were refreshed. Then three hundred Arabs came, pursuing the Franks: against whom the Christians rushed; and having seized two of them, they chased them back to their own army. Nor was the rumor of battle any longer uncertain: for what doubtful report usually intimates to the ears, all of that, as an undoubted reality, was presenting itself to the eyes of each one, since they had undoubtedly seen one another: the Christians, returning to camp after that skirmish, rested that night, except that rather they all devoted themselves to watches and prayers. In the evening, it was proclaimed and commanded by the Patriarch: that on the morrow, no Christians going forth to battle should be intent on plundering spoils, lest they be less ready to press the fight, and the very burden of spoils should hinder them from winning: after the battle was done, let them rejoice in rich spoils and, with the enemies defeated, attend to plundering their baggage.
The sun had illuminated the earth, and the people of God were thinking about the battle to be joined. They entered a certain valley, alongside the seashore, graced with a beautiful plain: there each one arranged and drew up their battle lines in formation. The King carefully drew up his line; Count Robert of Normandy, his; the Count of Toulouse, his; the Count of Flanders and Gaston, theirs; Count Eustace, his; Tancred, his: each one of these drew up his archers and foot-soldiers: and with these sent ahead, they advanced step by step. They were instructed how to raise the war-cry, how to resist, how to pierce the enemy by striking those who seemed impenetrable; and that they should frequently look back to their standards, fearing nothing, and steel themselves to endure the enemy's blows: although they had learned all these things in other battles well fought.
No less on the other side the pagans were massing in wedge formation, more numerous than the stars; and through their columns innumerable legions stretched from flank to flank. They had sent ahead a certain people, whom they called Ethiopians, whom they stationed in place and commanded to remain immobile. These, with their knees fixed to the ground, the right knee set back, protecting their upper bodies with shields, used arrows and swords: they had been commanded neither to retreat for even a moment, nor to exceed the occupied position by even a step. Furthermore, the military companies, as they had been deployed, held their appointed positions.
And since they feared excessive thirst, on account of the heat and the dusty haze, and on account of the labor and the prolonged duration of fighting, they had hung small water-jugs full from their necks: refreshed by which, they might either resist more steadfastly, or pursue the fleeing more tirelessly. For indeed there had been no mention of their own flight, since they already thought they had won. For they were confident both in their innumerable multitudes; and in the courageous hearts of their peoples, and in imperial edicts that they should never flee. For they had said: "Let those who flee be inevitably punished with capital punishment."
With the battle prepared on both sides, when they had come to the place from which the Franks could now inspect the pagans a little closer, it was reported to us that the Christians paused briefly; and with eyes raised to heaven, with knees fixed to the ground, they prayed: for they were hoping for help from heaven. When they had briefly prayed, and the sign of the saving cross had been reverently applied to their foreheads, they rode forward with greater confidence. For the pagans had already halted and were waiting motionless. On the right wing near the sea, the Count of Toulouse was riding: on the left side the King was hastening with his forces: furthermore the Norman was fighting in the center, and the Count of Flanders, and Tancred, and others: but what is one against a hundred? what are ten against a thousand? But truly he who once had caused to be sung in the choir, 'Saul has slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands' (1 Samuel 18:7): he himself wrought on that day in no dissimilar fashion among the Christians.
The Christians indeed, crying out in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, manfully attacked them. The Count of the Normans, behold, Robert, who for his deed well done is often to be named by his proper name, observing from afar the standard of the Emir, which had a golden apple at the top of the lance; and the lance, covered with silver, gleamed white handsomely — when he recognized it was the Emir himself, he boldly charged through the middle of the battle lines upon him, and gravely wounded him to the point of death. This struck no small fear into the pagans. The Count of Flanders also attacked them as an enemy. Tancred, undaunted, charged through the middle of the tents upon them. The pagan soldiers immediately took to flight. The Ethiopians, stunned, stood still.
But the King and some of the Franks, turning upon the Ethiopians, and lingering there for some time, were cutting them down with swords crosswise like a harvest, and hacking their bodies to pieces, cutting them in half. The fields were sprinkled, or rather flooded, with blood; and everywhere the carcasses of the pagans were strewn about. The Christians pursued the fleeing pagans: for the pagans, trembling at the power of God, had no place to catch their breath, nor did they breathe at all. For if the pagans are to be believed, they frequently reported afterwards that they were so stupefied that with eyes open they could scarcely see the Christians, and could do them no harm at all.
They dared not raise themselves against the Christians, nor did the many dare to bark against the few: therefore they fled, and some, having climbed trees or crags, wished to avoid death; others, for the same reason, entered the hiding-places of caves. The Christians pressed hard against those who resisted, driving some over precipices, running others through with daggers, cutting others' throats, sparing none in common. A lethal day had fallen upon the pagans, on which not a single one was given the chance of escape; only those escaped who managed to flee by whatever means they could.
The Count of Saint-Gilles, fighting from the side of the sea, killed innumerable men, and was driving the fugitives back toward the city; but since the city was somewhat distant from them, those who remained exhausted either immediately fell slain, or hurled themselves into the sea, and thus headlong they rushed from death to death. For to those whom the Franks could overtake by running, no respite was given. The fleet of the Emir had covered the entire sea, and that people were awaiting the end of the battle: but seeing that a fortune other than what they had hoped was looming over their men, they boarded their skiffs, turned their sails into the wind, and thus sailed back to their homeland. That day therefore was exceedingly adverse for those Babylonians. For it was a day of tribulation and dispersal; a day of death and confusion. Those who could, however, fled to the city. They say that the Emir, scarcely still breathing, groaned deeply aloud, and thus he lamented: "Creator of all, what is this? What has happened? What hostile fate has harmed us? Woe to me! What unspeakable disgrace! What lasting reproach has befallen our nation! A beggarly people, a tiny people, has prevailed against our nation! Whence is this? Having made an agreement, I brought here two hundred thousand soldiers, and the number of infantry was beyond counting, whom I believed would prevail over the entire world: but now, not to lie, they have been so disgracefully defeated by fewer than a thousand cavalry and thirty thousand infantry. Either their God is almighty, and fights for them; or our god is angry with us, and rebukes and chastises us with too stern a fury. Whatever it may be, one thing shall be: I shall not rise against them again, but rather I shall return to my homeland, disgraced as long as I live." Having said this, he was complaining tearfully; and was lamenting from his inmost being. "I swear," he said, "by Mohammed, and by all the powers of the gods, that I shall no longer retain soldiers by any agreement: for I have been driven out by a foreign and alien people.
I assembled all kinds of arms and siege engines, to besiege them in Jerusalem, and they themselves came out to meet me in battle at a distance of two days' journey. Alas for me! What more shall I say? I shall be dishonored forever in the land of Babylon."
The Christians, the slaughter completed, returned to plunder the tents of the Ishmaelites. They found therefore, to speak briefly, whatever good equipment can be imagined: silver, gold, grain, flour, and oil; herds of innumerable cattle, every splendor of ornaments, heaps of weapons; and whatever else could be even better. All these things having been plundered, they returned with joy to the holy city of Jerusalem, and gave worthy thanks to God in each of the churches.
Robert, Count of the Normans, bought the standard from those who had retained it from the wounded Emir, for twenty marks of silver, and placed it in the Sepulchre of the Lord, as a memorial of the memorable triumph: another man bought the sword of the same Emir for sixty bezants.
Conclusion
Therefore there was unspeakable joy throughout all Christendom. Thus the Christians liberated Jerusalem from the hands of the impious Turks, in the year from the Incarnation of the Lord, one thousand and ninety-nine, and many times triumphed over them, with Christ as leader. This great battle was fought on the day before the Ides of August; and Christendom throughout all lands was, thanks be to God, exalted.
We close the fourth book of this history with the battle, wonderfully won with God's help within a few days after the capture of the city: and thus, with our promise fulfilled, we rest.
Here ends the History of Jerusalem, composed by Baudri, Archbishop of Dol.