When the vast army drawn from nearly all the Western lands approached
Apulia, word of the arrival of that multitude reached Bohemund, son
of Robert who was called Guiscard, a man of remarkable greatness. At
that time he was engaged in besieging Amalfi. After the messenger
had made his way through the crowd of people, he told Bohemund the
reasons for the journey: they were hastening to free Jerusalem, the
Lord's tomb, and the sacred places which were being abused there,
from the power of the Gentiles. He also told him of the kind of
people, of how many fine men, as I might say, left their honorable
positions and were striving with unheard-of eagerness to join this
expedition. He asked if they were carrying arms, packs, what
insignia of this new pilgrimage they were wearing, and finally, what
war-cries they called out in battle. He replied that the Franks were
carrying their usual arms, and that they had sewn the sign of the
cross on their shoulders or elsewhere, out of any material or rag
they had at hand; they had renounced individual battle-cries as
arrogant, and instead they all humbly and faithfully shouted in
battle, "God wishes it." His heart was deeply stirred by these words,
and, inspired by God, he was stung by conscience; he ordered that
his most precious mantle be brought to him, and he had it cut up into
little crosses; he put one on himself, and gave out the other crosses
to be worn by those of his men who subscribed to the cause to which
he had dedicated himself. The knights who had followed him to this
siege also experienced a sudden change of heart, and set out on the
same journey that their leader had chosen. Such a crowd of knights
made this choice at that moment that Bohemund's brother, count Roger
of Sicily, grieved deeply that he was robbed of nearly all of his
retainers at this siege.
But I should say a few words about Bohemund's parentage, and about
the steps by which he proceeded to this position of honor. Robert,
whose surname we have given as Guiscard, was from Normandy, and was
born to a family of no great distinction. He went from there to
Apulia, but whether he left his native land voluntarily or was driven
from it I don't know. There, by some means or other, he earned
horses and arms to become a knight. He assembled, from various
places, a group of thieves to help him in his endeavours, took over
certain castles, with the aid of disgraceful treachery, occupied some
other castles after wearing them down with frequent attacks, laid
sieges to wealthy cities, and compelled them to surrender. To finish
in a few words, this "new man" extended his power, conquering at will
to such an extent that the verses on his epitaph read, "he drove him
out whom the Ligurians, Rome, and Lake Leman recognized as king,
"[114]that is, Henry Augustus, a man favored by fortune with
innumerable, almost continual victories.
Parthia, Arabia, the phalanx of Macedonians did not protect Alexis,
[115]
the prince of the Greeks, who has often been our concern. Having
defeated him often, Robert, they say, would have worn the crown in
the city of Constantinople in a few days, had draught of poison not
suddenly snatched his life from him. Anyone who wishes today may see
the power of his son Bohemund who, obliterating the low origin of his
family, married the daughter of Philip, king of France, and tried to
take by violence the empire of the above mentioned king Alexis.
While his brother Roger returned to Sicily, unhappy that he had lost
so many men of all ranks, that it seemed that the whole people was
about to go off to Jerusalem, Bohemund collected the troops and
supplies that were necessary for such an expedition, embarked with
his army, and with a favoring wind easily reached the Bulgarian shore.
His retinue was filled with many wise knights and great princes,
among whom was Tancred, who was, if I am not mistaken, the son of a
certain marquis and Bohemund's sister. Tancred's brother, whose name
was William, had set out before him with Hugh the Great. In addition
there was Richard of the First City,[116] a remarkably good-looking
man, whom we saw perform the office of delegate to the king of the
Franks, to ask for the hand of Constantia as wife for Bohemund. Then,
when he and his men entered the land of Bulgaria, they found a great
supply of every kind of food. When they arrived in the valley of
Andropolitanus,[117] they remained there waiting for the rest of the
fleet to finish the journey. When everyone had arrived, the leaders
met, and Bohemund told his plan to his men, ordering everyone alike
who was about to pass through territory inhabited by Christians to
behave peacefully, to do no harm, and not to depopulate the land of
those whose rights they had come to protect; they should take, as
peacefully as possible, and after having paid for it, only the food
that they needed. They went forward, and as they passed from city to
city, from field to field, from camp to camp, they found abundant
trade everywhere, until they arrived in the province called Castoria,
and there they solemnly celebrated Christmas, remaining for several
days. They asked the people of the province for permission to trade,
but they refused to grant permission, fearing that our men, whom they
considered warriors, not pilgims, wanted to destroy their land and
crush them. Angered, their restraint now turned to fury, and they
seized horses, cows, asses, and whatever else was useful. Then they
left Castoria and entered Pelagonia, where they came upon a fortified
town of heretics, which they attacked on every side, compelling them
to surrender. They then burned it to the ground, together with its
inhabitants. From there they went to the river called the Baudarus.
[118] Bohemund moved forward with part of his knights and left the
rest in the hands of a certain one of his counts. When the emperor's
army, which was not far off, learned of this, it attacked the count,
who was now without the aid of Bohemund, who had gone on ahead of him,
and the count's men were thrown into confusion by the attack of the
enemy. When brave Tancred heard of this, he swiftly turned back,
leaped into the river mentioned above, and swam back to those who
were being attacked. He then assembled the nearly two thousand men
who swam behind him, found the enemy, who were fighting fiercely
against his own men, and attacked them with equal fierceness, quickly
overcoming them. Many of them were captured and brought before
Bohemund in chains. To them the prince said, "Why do you pursue my
people, the people of Christ? I am not trying to overthrow your
emperor." They replied, "We do nothing by our own deliberation. We
are soldiers who earn money by carrying out the orders of the emperor;
whatever he tells us to do we do." When the splendid man heard this,
he let them go, without punishment and without ransom. This battle
took place on the fourth day of the week, which among Christians is
called the beginning of the fast[119]
The emperor Alexis, when he heard of Bohemund's exemplary action,
then sent for the councilor upon whom he most relied, and told him to
lead the magnanimous duke, together with his army, through his own
land, and into his own presence at Constantinople. While the army
was passing through all the towns and cities of the empire, an
imperial edict commanded all the inhabitants of these regions to see
to it that Bohemund and his men had a supply of everything that could
be bought. However, although the army was allowed to proceed through
the provinces, none of Bohemund's men were permitted to enter the
walls of any city. The knights were about to invade a certain fort
that seemed abundant with supplies, but the illustrious man forbade
it, partly out of respect for the laws of the land, partly to avoid
offending the emperor, or rather, he did not want to break the pact
he had just made with him through intermediaries. Angry at their
foolish attempt, and particularly at Tancred, he forbade them to go
on. This happened in the evening. The next morning the inhabitants
of the fort came out, bearing the banners of the Cross before them,
demonstrating their humility and religious belief to Bohemund. He
greeted them affably and courteously, thanked them, and sent the
contented people back to the town. Then they reached a city called
Serra, where they pitched their tents, and successfully traded in the
marketplace. Here Bohemund was reconciled with his two courtly
prefects. In keeping with the recent treaty and with the law of the
land, he ordered that everything which had been taken from the
inhabitants be restored to them. Then they proceeded to the
outskirts of city called Rusa,[120] where a crowd of Greeks, both
aristocrats and commoners, rushed to greet the noble man, offering
all kinds of merchandise. They made camp there three days before the
feast of the Lord. Bohemund then left his retinue behind and set out
for Constantinople, together with a few of his knights, to confer
with the emperor. In the meanwhile Tancred was in charge of the army,
and when he saw that food was difficult to purchase with empty
purses, he decided to leave the major routes and move along the less
frequented ones, where a greater supply of necessary items for
everyone might be found. Therefore he lead them from the public way,
out of consideration for the poor, and entered a valley abundantly
supplied with different kinds of food. There the people piously
celebrated Easter (April 5, 1097). When Alexis heard that Bohemund
was coming to meet with him, he ordered that he be given the most
respectful welcome, and that he be given quarters just outside the
city wall.[121] When he arrived, he was invited to speak with the
emperor; he went and was received in secret.
Meanwhile Duke Godfrey, together with his brother Baldwin and the
count of Saint-Gilles, each leading a strong group of men, reached
the outskirts of Constantinople. The perfidious Alexis, who once was
thought to be eager for support against the Turks, gnashed his teeth
in the bitterness of his anger, and pondered on a means to bring
about the total destruction of the large army that was, as he thought,
about to attack him. But God, whose force drove this pious army,
watched over them so well that no occasion presented itself for the
scoundrel to harm them; furthermore, cut off from all possibility of
doing harm, the wretch was stricken with great fear. The people of
Constantinople were disturbed at the sight of so many battalions
assembling, and they held a meeting to determine what to do. Fearful
that the city would be crushed by the great number of men who were
arriving, and that the provinces would be taken over and devastated,
they decided, after considering several alternatives, that their
tyrant should demand an oath from the Franks that they would never
harm him or his people. When our leaders learned of this, they
showed great contempt and scorn. They understood clearly that if the
initial army happened to deviate from this pact, it would be
necessary for such a large army, stripped of all resources by poverty,
to wage war against the perfidious prince, contrary to the oaths
they had taken. "And certainly," they said, "Even if no fear of what
might happen in the future weighed upon us, the fact that we had been
compelled by the puny Greeks, laziest of all people, to swear an oath
would be to our eternal shame. We cannot doubt that they would say
that we, willy-nilly, had submitted to their rule." The emperor came
to mighty Bohemund about this matter, and was ready to entice him
whom he greatly feared with gifts, for Bohemund had often defeated
him in battle; Alexis concentrated particularly on Bohemund, because
he regarded him as his greatest rival. Therefore he offered him land
the other side of Antioch, whose length would take fifteen days to
cross, and whose width would take no less than eight days to cross.
The great man's firmness was broken by this offer, and what Hugh the
Great had promised, compelled by necessity and the enticement of
money, Bohemund agreed to swear to on condition that if Alexis
reneged on what he had agreed to, he himself would not have to carry
out what he had sworn to. If anyone asks why he and the others
relaxed their firmness by swearing oaths to the tyrant, he should
understand that the leaders were helping their fellow soldiers in God
out of necessity, for they would have been in dire poverty if they
had been denied their pay. Alexis swore oaths also, stating, "that
he would come with them, at the head of his own army, aid them on
land and on the sea, and he would order that food be brought from
everywhere for them to purchase; if they suffered any losses, he
would indemnify them fully; finally, he would not wish or allow
anyone on this expedition, to the extent that he had the ability, to
be harassed, harmed, or killed."
The Count of Saint-Gilles had established camp in the outskirts of
Byzantium before the entire army had arrived, and the tyrant sent a
messenger to ask the count to do what the others had done, that is,
offer him homage. The cleverness of the insolent tyrant demanded
this, but the wisdom of the glorious count set about devising a way
to take vengeance against the envy of the scoundrel. But the leaders,
that is, Godfrey, Hugh the Great, and Robert of Flanders, and the
others, said that they would never take up arms against someone who
was considered to be a Christian. Bohemund added that if Raymond
waged war against the Emperor, and thereby broke the oath he had
given the Emperor, he himself would take the emperor's part. And so
the count, after consulting with his closest advisors, swore to
protect the life and honor of the impious Alexis, and that he would
not for his own sake or to aid others work to destroy him. When they
considered the clause about hommage, he said that he would rather
undergo mortal danger than submit to such a proposition. Meanwhile
Bohemund's army drew near to the towers of Constantinople. Having
learned what oaths the emperor had exacted, Tancred, together with
the men he was leading (almost the entire forces of Bohemund),
quickly crossed the Arm of Saint George. The army of the Count of
Saint-Gilles had scattered, setting up its tents at the edge of the
city. Bohemund remained with the Emperor, so that he might more
easily supervise the carrying out of the imperial edict which ordered
the people beyond Nicaea to bring food from everywhere to his army.
Duke Godfrey had gone ahead, together with Tancred, to Nicomedia, a
city founded by Nicomedes, who, according to a poem, won a battle
against Caesar, but did not triumph.[122] Each of them remained
there with his troops for three days. The duke, considering that the
roads were filled with obstacles, and that an army as large as theirs
could not make its way along them, since the road that Peter the
Hermit's men had used could not accommodate so many men, sent three
thousand men ahead of him, with axes and hoes to widen the roads and
make them passable as far as Nicea. The road was incredibly
difficult, filled with sharp stones, and moving over steep mountains.
Those who were in the lead widened the road by cutting up the rocks,
and they placed crosses of iron and wood on tall stakes, so that our
men, when they saw these signs aloft, would not wander from the road.
Finally they came to Nicea, the central city of Armenia, and the
chief city of Bythinia, famous for the synod of 318 fathers, but even
more famous for the declaration of Omousion, and the condemnation of
Arius. The next day was the sixth of May, and they pitched their
camps in the area around the city, on the third day after they had
left Nicomedia. Before the army of Bohemund arrived, they say that
there was such shortage of bread that one loaf of bread cost twenty
or thirty pennies. But when Bohemund appeared, he brought great
quantity of food by land and by sea, and suddenly plentiful supply of
everything necessary flowed.
On the day of the Ascension of Our Lord, they began to attack the
city from all sides, to draw up machines, to erect ladders, prepare
fire-bombs, and to fire at the ramparts of the walls and towers with
their crossbows.[123] The siege of the city was undertaken with such
sharp fervor that within two days they had undermined the walls. The
Turks, who held the city, sent messengers to other cities, asking for
them to bring help, and to enter without fear by the southern gate,
since that part was not under siege, and presented no obstacle to
those wishing to bring help. On that very day, however, the sabbath
after the Ascension of Our Lord, the entrance of that gate was being
guarded by the Count of Saint-Gilles and the Bishop of Puy. An event
occurred there that was truly noteworthy. This same noble count,
faithful to God, strong and competent in arms, surrounded by a no
less competent army, found in front of him enemy reinforcements
hurrying towards the town. Relying in his spirit upon divine
assistance, he attacked and conquered the Turks, compelling them to
flee, and slicing most of them to pieces. Hideously defeated, the
Turks went about finding new forces with which they enthusiastically
decided to go to battle again, carrying ropes with which they
proposed to tie up our men and bring them back to Khorasan.
Encouraged by this empty hope, they began, in single file and step by
step, to descend from the top of the mountain that towered over the
city. They were welcomed with pleasure by our men, as was fitting,
and they left their severed heads as proof of our victory. After the
Turks fled, our catapults and slings fired the severed heads into the
city to terrify the Gentiles. However, the bishop of Puy of blessed
memory and Count Raymond of Saint-Gilles, pressing forward to weaken
the city, attacked a tower near their own camp by digging tunnels to
undermine its foundations. After the miners were in place to carry
this out, they were given protection by men with bows and crossbows,
by men swinging balearic ropes, and by others defending the sappers.
Thus the tower was undermined to the depths of its foundation, while
the collapsing wall was held only with beams and poles; when the base
of the foundation had been entirely demolished, they set fire to the
beams:
When cloudy night brought quiet to both sides, the weakened tower
fell in ruins, but because night is less appropriate for fighting,
the Franks stopped, refusing to harm the Turks at night.[124]
The Turks, however, worried about their safety, very wisely got up,
and, in the same place, rebuilt the wall so quickly and of such
strength that the next day our men could find no way of doing them
any harm. Meanwhile, two men arrived, the most celebrated for deeds
of arms and the wealthiest counts, whom we have already mentioned,
accompanied by many knights, whose arrival filled the whole army of
the Lord with joy: Robert, Count of Normandy, and Count Stephen of
Chartres.
Thus Bohemund besieged the city from the front, Tancred from the side,
Duke Godfrey from a third position, the count of Flanders from a
fourth, the count of Normandy from fifth, and the count of
Saint-Gilles and the bishop of Puy from a sixth. They set about
besieging it, so that none of the besieged could get in or out.
There one could see gathered the flower of the armed force, or the
wisdom, the nobility, of the fame of all of France, dressed in the
breastplates and helmets of knights; those who were skilled at
counting the number of people in an army thought that there were
about 100,000 men. I do not think that anyone could count the whole
crowd of foot-soldiers, or of those who attended knights. The latter
group not only performed the tasks that servants and slaves normally
perform for soldiers, but they took part in the siege, and in the
battles themselves, like lions, with bravery like that of their
betters, as though they were accustomed to wielding now arms, now
tools of any sort, whether for war, or for any other task necessary.
No speech will be able to tell how much the integrity of those
powerful warriors shone forth at that time. No land on earth will
ever see soldiers of such nobility fighting together. If you wish, I
shall relate the story of every kingdom, speak of battles done
everywhere; none of these will be able to equal either the nobility
or the force of these men. They left their paternal lands, abandoned
conjugal bonds, their children were unattractive to them, remaining
at home was punishment for them; in every knight the desire for
martyrdom burns. When the mob is carried away by the promise of
bloodshed, who can find anyone who is unmoved? Everyone is
lion-hearted, pleased to see the walls of Nicea surrounded. The
field shone with the reins of horses, and the shape and sound of
their trappings gives pleasure to everyone. Their armor burns more
brightly once it has drunk the sun's rays. Their helmets, shields
with yellow bronze, and belts blaze. You would have seen them, like
a storm, beating the walls down with their battering rams. The
Frankish spears penetrated their hard limbs, and their sharp swords
broke many of their bones. The wooden tower strove to drive the
Turks from the lofty walls. The battle rages hand-to-hand, and
spears were hurled on both sides; hardly any of them missed.
Unexpected death laid some men low. Heavenly glory then made our men
strong; they exposed their bodies to what was fated. They rejoiced
in seeking rewards through death. Every weary man became bold and
aggressive, driven by hope for a better life. The crimes of souls
greedy of praise are far distant. Every man believed that, if war
granted him a breath of fame, Christ was the one who gave it. No one
who performed noble act took credit for it. We will not be able to
compare the Scythian triumphs over Darius with these, nor could the
great, manly efforts of Cyrus be known, which Tomyris had finished
off with a bag of gore.[125] You would have mourned the outcome,
good Pyrrus, looking upon Tarentum; you babble uselessly of taking on
new wars with elephants. Once, twice, three times Hanibal's men cut
down the Quirites like wheat, but they were at last defeated and left
the city. Although under Caesar there was ten-year fight without
loss, let it be clear that the sojourn in the fields of Gaul was
harmful. The task took very little time, and was entirely successful.
Since God was involved, everything turned out well in the end.
Those who died as martyrs had a glorious fate, and those who did not
judged that the suffering mitigated their sins.[126]
Part of the city was bordered by a long, broad, stagnant lake, upon
which the enemy was seen launching boats, freely going in and out,
carrying wood and fodder and other necessary items. Our leaders held
a meeting about this activity, and they agreed to send a delegation
to the prince of Constantinople, to urge him to send as many ships as
possible to the city of Civitot, where there was a port, and to
collect a great number of bulls to carry the ships over the
mountains and through the forests until they reached the
above-mentioned lake. The plan was discussed and carried out quickly,
urged on by the prince; those who are called the Turkopoles, that is,
the knights of his court, were sent on the expedition. When the
boats were brought, in accordance with the emperor's orders, they
remained still on the day that they were brought. That night,
however, they put the boats on the lake, and the Turkopoles, very
well equipped with weapons, got into them. In the morning the fleet
assembled, and proceeded slowly towards the city, as though they were
bringing tribute. The Turks, who were amazed at the sight of the
ships, could not decide whether they were their own, or the emperor's.
After they understood that what they were seeing was an enemy force,
they grew weak with a fear of death, but the more they groaned and
wept the more our own men were pleased and gave thanks to the Lord.
This misfortune severely enfeebled the enemy, who now lost faith in
themselves and their allies, and sent legation to the emperor,
offering to surrender the city, if he could get permission from the
Franks for them to leave with their wives, sons, and adequate
provisions. The tyrant graciously favored their request, and not
only granted it without punishing them, but, to bind them even closer
to himself, brought them to Constantinople. He had one principal
object in doing this: in case of a disagreement with the Franks, he
would advantageously have men with whom to oppose them. The siege
had lasted seven weeks and three days, and many of our men received
the gift of martyrdom in that place. It is undoubtedly true that
those who went to their death in defense of the true faith certainly
may be numbered among those who are with God; having paid with their
blood, they have earned celestial rewards. Those who died of
starvation are certainly their equals, and a great number died there
in that way. For if, according to the Prophet, speaking historically,
"it was better for those killed by the sword than for those killed
by hunger,"[127] since the latter undoubtedly were tortured to death
by daily pain, they will not, it is right to believe, be deprived of
the more noble crown of martyrdom.
After the city had surrendered, and the Turks had been brought to
Constantinople, the tyrannical prince was extremely pleased to have
regained the city, and he gave our leaders countless gifts; he also
made substantial charitable contributions to all the poorest people.
As a result, those who were neither powerful nor poor, whom his
generosity had overlooked, grew envious and hostile towards the
leaders. And, in a way, it was not unjust. They had fought the
battles; they were the ones who had carried out the entire siege,
hauled the engines of war, fired the catapults; to conclude briefly,
I say that they carried, "the burden and heat of the day."[128] On
the day that they left the captured city they reached a bridge in
whose vicinity they remained for two days. On the third day, at the
first feeble glimmerings of dawn, they arose, moved about blindly in
what little light there was, and went down two separate roads,
forming two groups. For two days they marched in two separate
divisions. One contained Bohemund, Robert of Normandy, and Tancred,
together with a large contingent of knights; the Count of
Saint-Gilles, Duke Godfrey, the bishop of Puy, Hugh the Great, and
the count of Flanders were leading the other group through pathless
territory. On the third day, an innumerable, terrible, and nearly
overwhelming mass of Turks suddenly rushed upon Bohemund and his men.
You would have seen them speaking melodramatically about the fear
that they expected our men, frightened at their unexpected attack, to
feel as they shouted their war-like battle-cry in the horrible tones
of their language. Under attack by an immense force, the
extraordinary man was not frightened into acting unwisely, but
immediately ordered everyone to halt, unroll the tents, and establish
camp quickly. Before his orders had been carried out, he addressed
his own knights: "If you keep in mind the expedition that you joined,
having considered why it was necessary, then go forward; attack them
like men, defend your honor and your life, and you, foot soldiers,
pitch the tents carefully." When he had finished, the Turks attacked
suddenly and swiftly, hurling javelins, and fighting in their usual
fashion by fleeing as they fired arrows into the breasts of their
pursuers. Aware of what they had promised, mindful of their vaunted
strength, the Franks clearly understood that they were numerically
overmatched, but they fought with energetic bravery against their
furious enemies. The count of Normandy, properly mindful of his
father's military valor and noble ancestry, performed mighty deeds of
arms, fighting off the enemy, and offering a fine example of
resistance to our momentarily frightened army. God was also present,
so that the women who had accompanied them stood by their men,
constantly bringing water to refresh the knights. Indeed, their
encouragement and advice did more to make the men more tireless and
inventive than the water did to refresh them. But when Bohemund
became troubled by the extreme inequality of the contest, he sent a
messenger to those who had gone off separately, Raymond the Count of
Saint-Gilles, Duke Godfrey, Hugh the Great, the bishop of Puy, and
others of their retinues, telling them to come very quickly, because
battle was imminent. Thus they say:
If they would like to see the beginnings of battle with the Turks,
what they want is now here: come quickly.[129]
And so Godfrey, worthy of the title of duke, a model warrior,
accompanied by Hugh the Great, who took after his father in military
ardor, courageous as befitted one descended from kings, like a
leopard, I might say, together with his retinue, raced to the battle
as eagerly as to feast. Then the Bishop of Puy,
strengthened the army not only with his shining arms, but with his
counsel and sacred prayers; if they had been hesitant, he ignited the
army.[130]
Then the Count of Saint-Gilles, older and wiser with experience and
very reliable in council, surrounded by his Provencal soldiers, burst
forth. When our men saw the enemy army face-to-face, they wondered
where in the world such an infinite number of people had come from.
Turks, Arabs, and Saracens stood out among the others, both in number
and in nobility; there was a smaller number of auxiliaries and people
from less illustrious nations. There you would have seen the heights
of the mountains and the slopes of the hills grow dense with this
profane mass, and all the plains were covered with countless throngs.
And so our leaders exhorted their men, "If you have devoted to God
the army in which you now serve, if you have given up your countries,
homes, wives, children, and your bodies, and if these bodies have
only survived to be offered for the glories of martyrdom, how, I ask,
can you be terrified at this sight? The wisdom of one of you,
derived from faith in God, is more powerful than the superstitions of
this entire heap of rabble. If death is to be your lot, the heavenly
kingdom and a joyful death await you; if you remain alive, and
persevere in your faith, certain victory awaits you, and after
victory, glory, and after glory, greater courage, and then great
opulence from the enemy's treasures. Whatever happens, you will be
secure, you have nothing to fear; no delay or doubt should stand in
your way. Therefore surrender your minds and bodies to the faith of
the Lord of the Cross, and take up arms against this pile of husks,
these little creatures who are hardly men at all." Then they drew up
their battle lines in an orderly fashion, with great-hearted Bohemund
on the left flank, together with the count of Normandy, valiant
knight, Tancred, and Richard who was called "of the first city." The
Bishop of Puy, however, moving through the mountains from enemy
territory, was surrounding the Turks; count Raymond rode on the left
flank. On the right flank, Duke Godfrey, Robert of Flanders, Hugh
the Great, and the other warriors, powerful because they took up
their positions on behalf of Christ. Oh good God, who knows men's
thoughts, how many tears were shed for you during these preparations!
How much pious remorse and how many pious confessions rose up out of
the minds of all of these men! Who could judge adequately how much
sensitivity was in the hearts of all these men whose hopes were
placed only in You? O Christ, with what grief did holiness and
sinfulness cry out to you. They wept, and called upon pious Christ
with their pious sighs, when, lo, all the soldiers crossed themselves;
I do not say that they were as brave as lions, but, what is more
fitting, brave as martyrs, bearing the banners against the enemy
throng.
The Arabs, Persians, and ferocious Turks soon fled; the savage people
showed their backs to the Christians. It was a rout, and the
wretched army ran in all directions; the Arabs ran like rabbits.
Prodigious was the slaughter of the fleeing army; we hardly had
enough swords to do all the killing. Swords became dull with cutting
so many limbs; they cut men down the way reapers cut wheat with
scythe. Here they cut a head, here a nose, here throat, here a pair
of ears; a belly is sliced open; everyone in their path dies. Hands
become stupefied, arms grow stiff with gore. No one resists them and
remains alive; lassitude overcomes the infidels. Their breasts
blindly receive the baneful assault.[131]
The number of enemy defeated is said to have been 460,000, not
counting the Arabs, whose number was too great to be counted.[132]
At first, indeed, crying out in despair of their lives,
they ran in fear to their tents,[133]
where they seized what they could with their hands and fled. For a
whole day our men pursued them very closely, piling up the spoils
they took from the fleeing enemy; and so, after drawing considerable
amounts of blood, they took comfort in the copious sums of money, in
the precious garments, and in the herds of cattle which they took
from the fleeing men. From the third until the ninth hour the
destruction, or rather Arabian slaughter, of this battle raged. Two
leaders of distinguished name, Geoffrey of Mont Scabieuse, and
William, brother of Tancred, and many others whose names are
entrusted to the notice of God alone, died there. Here we can
clearly see the signs of Christian power; and if we marvel at the
inequality of a battle between so few men and so many, we must
attribute the results entirely to the aid of Christ. For if in the
ancient text it is said of the Jews who had not yet separated from
God, "one will pursue thousand, and two will put to flight ten
thousand,"[134] then it seems to me no less true of this victory,
since human understanding cannot hope to fathom how so many men could
be defeated by so few. But perhaps someone may object, arguing that
the enemy forces were merely peasants, scum herded together from
everywhere. Certainly the Franks themselves, who had undergone such
great danger, testified that they could have known of no race
comparable to the Turks, either in the liveliness of spirit, or
energy in battle. When the Turks initiated a battle, our men were
almost reduced to despair by the novelty of their tactics in battle;
they were not accustomed to their speed on horseback, nor to their
ability to avoid our frontal assaults. We had particular difficulty
with the fact that they fired their arrows only when fleeing from the
battle. It was the Turk's opinion, however, that they shared an
ancestry with the Franks, and that the highest military prowess
belonged particularly to the Turks and Franks, above all other people.
While they were being defeated in this manner, and were fleeing day
and night from the face of the Franks, the prince who ruled Nicaea,
[135] frightened out of his mind, after the siege had ended, happened
to meet a group of ten thousand Arabs, who said to him, "O least of
men, why are you fleeing in miserable fright?" He replied, "I
thought that I had destroyed and killed every last Frank, and I
thought that I would deliver them to eternal captivity; I assumed
that I would conquer them as they moved forward in small groups, and
I would bind them and lead them away to distant lands. But a large
army appeared, and the fields and mountains were covered with great
numbers of them, and they seemed to occupy every inch of our entire
land." The capture which he mentioned referred to the army of Peter
the Hermit, and the multitude that followed to those who lately had
subjugated Nicaea. "There, when we had seen an army of so many
people, with divisions growing like wheat, against whom we judged
correctly that we stood no chance of defending ourselves (for there
was no safe place), we thought it best to escape imminent death by
fleeing swiftly. Although we are now at some distance, nevertheless
we are shaken by the terrible memory of those men whom we saw, and
the momentary encounter has left us frightened of their ferocity. If
you have any faith in my report of what happened, you will retreat
from this place because, if their forces find you here, you will
undoubtedly pay for your folly many times over." They decided that
what they heard was credible, quickly reversed direction,[136] and
scattered all over Romania.
Meanwhile our men were intent on pursuing the fleeing Turks, who,
when they passed through cities and forts, boastfully proclaimed that
they had conquered the Franks, thus deluding the inhabitants of the
lands through which they traveled with lying words. "We have
defeated the Christian armies," they said, "and deprived them of all
desire for combat. Therefore let us into your cities, and welcome
gratefully those who go to such lengths to protect you." Then they
entered the cities, stripped the churches of their ornaments, carried
off the wealth of public buildings, and set about carrying off gold
and silver, various kinds of animals, and whatever else might be of
use to them. For this purpose, they abducted the sons of Christians
as slaves, and consigned to the flames other things that were less
useful, constantly in fear of our coming up behind them. Afterward,
in searching for the infidels through pathless solitudes, our men
entered a deserted, pathless, waterless land, from which the pitiful
men emerged scarcely alive. They suffered from hunger and thirst;
nothing edible could be found, but the cruel deprivation seemed
sometimes to be relieved by rubbing their hands with the spikes.[137]
Certainly many noble knights died there, and the desert, to which
they were unaccustomed, took the lives of many horses. The feeble
succumbed to the relentless hardship. The great lack of horses and
carts compelled them to use cattle, goats, rams, and what is more
amazing, dogs, to carry whatever supplies were appropriate to their
size. From there they moved on to a province rich in what they
needed, and they reached the city of Iconia,[138]famous for its
tolerance of Paul and his writings. Meanwhile, the inhabitants of
this province urged our men to provide themselves with supplies, and
to bring water in bags with them, because they would not be able to
find any water on the entire next day's journey. They did so, and
moved on until they reached the bank of a river, where they rested
for two days. And so those who made up the vanguard reached Trachias,
[139] where a large Turkish phalanx had assembled for the sole
purpose of finding a way to trouble the army of Christ. When our men
came upon them, they attacked them with their usual boldness. The
enemy swiftly took flight, like an arrow launched from a cross-bow.
[140]
Thus our men, now that the gate was open, entered the city and they
remained there for four days. There Tancred, Bohemund's nephew, and
Baldwin, Duke Godfrey's brother, left the encampment of the army, not
out of a desire to avoid fighting, but because of the ardor of their
spirits, and they entered a certain valley, which they call in that
language Bothrentot. And so Tancred, uncomfortable with partner,
separated from the duke's brother, and, together with his men,
attacked Tarsus, renowned for the precious birth of the special
apostle[141]. Turks from the city rushed out to battle our men as
they approached, but, as they were about to join battle, they sought
refuge in the city from which they had come. Tancred gave rein to
his horse in pursuit of the enemy, and set up his camp in position
that blockaded the gate of the city. Baldwin soon arrived to besiege
the city, set up camp on the other side, and asked Tancred if he and
his army might share in the taking of the city. Tancred angrily
refused, since he wanted control of the city and the trophies of
victory for himself alone. And so night fell, and the crowd of Turks,
uncomfortable with the siege, and well aware of the strength and
persistent nature of the besieger, fled in haste. When they had been
forced out, those who remained in the city, the Gentiles of that land,
which is to say those who were Christians, came out to our men
during the night, and cried out, "Franks, hurry, enter the city,
since the alien race has fled, so great was their fear of your
strength." At dawn, the leaders surrendered the city, and when they
learned that there was a fight about who should control the city,
they said, "We choose to rule over us the man whom we saw yesterday
battling so fiercely with the Turks." Baldwin instantly urged
Tancred that they enter the city together, so that each might set
about taking the spoils with all his might. Tancred wisely replied,
"Our plan was to fight the Turks, not to rob Christians, particularly
since they have voluntarily chosen me, and do not want anyone else."
Although he had said this, Tancred took into account the fact that
Baldwin's army was larger and better supplied, and yielded to him,
willingly or unwillingly, for the moment. During his retreat two
very fine cities, Athena[142] and Manustra,[143] yielded themselves
to him, together with many castles.
Since no chance to talk about Baldwin may offer itself later on, I
wish to insert a few details about how well things turned out for him.
Near Edessa, a city in Mesopotamia, as we understand from reports
of people who have been there, a certain man became leader[144] and
ruled over the Christian province as a duke, protecting it from the
incursions of Gentiles not by arms, but by paying protection money.
Worn out with age and illness, with a wife as old as he, and without
children, when he heard that the Franks were at the borders of
Mesopotamia, he very much wanted to find someone from among the
Frankish nobility to adopt, who, in exchange, would defend with arms
and strength the land that he had defended only with money. One of
the knights of his household, aware of his desire, happened to be
speaking with Baldwin. When he aroused the hope of obtaining the
dukedom if he permitted himself to be adopted by the above mentioned
old man, the count believed him and, accompanied by the knight, he
went to Edessa. Welcomed even more warmly than he had hoped, he was
adopted as a son by both. The method of adoption, in accordance with
the customs of this nation, is said to have been like this: the old
man directs him to strip himself naked and put on linen inner garment,
which we call a chemise, and he embraces him, and confirms the
entire transaction with kiss; both the old man and the old woman do
this. When this was finished, the citizens perceived that the old
man had been stripped of the high honor, and they made a secret pact
immediately to besiege the court in which he and Baldwin were staying.
They remembered whatever harmful things the old man had done to
them. And so during the siege, when his newly adopted son wanted to
fight back with Frankish boldness, the old man, admirably faithful,
prevented him, saying that he knew for certain that he could by no
means be delivered from the hands of the mob, while Baldwin would be
in great danger if he took up his defense. Thus after many
imprecations he persuaded him not to fight back, and when tearful
Baldwin said that he would prefer to die with him, the old man pushed
him away, and pleaded with the besiegers to kill him if they wished,
but to spare the new prince. And they did in fact kill him, but in
the meantime Baldwin, with great effort, managed to hold on to the
power he had gained by adoption and, mindful of the recent treachery,
brought in Frankish knights and servants for his own protection,
little later, at Christmas, another conspiracy was formed, to kill
the new duke on that holy day. The attempt did not remain hidden
from Baldwin, who told the members of his retinue who were Franks to
appear in church wearing their cuirasses and helmets, as though
prepared for battle; foot-soldiers were to bring their lances, swords,
and battle-axes, and to move about everywhere in their gear. When
this had been done, the inhabitants of the city understood that the
ruler had been alerted, and he himself proceeded to the church with a
large contingent of armed men, participated in the divine service,
yet said nothing that day. But the next day he called the citizens
of Edessa together and charged them with treason, compelled them by
law to confess, and did not permit them to deny what they had
proposed to do. And so, after the leaders of the entire city had
been convicted, some had their feet cut off, some their hands, others
their ears and noses, others their tongues and lips, and all of them
were castrated and sent into exile in various distant places.
Finally, when no one remained who might incite the crowd against him,
Baldwin experienced the rewards and happiness of such a dukedom.
Thereafter he led a prosperous and rich life, ruled several cities,
among which Seleucia[145] stood out as the best known since antiquity.
After the death of his brother Godfrey, who had ruled at Jerusalem,
Baldwin moved from this dukedom to that of Jerusalem, but from this
he derived no increase in earthly felicity, but only more blessed
labor in the service of God--that is, continual battle against the
Gentiles.
The Third Book of the Deeds of God by the Franks Ends.