I think that no one can justifiably ridicule me for undertaking this
task. For although I did not go to Jerusalem, and to this day am
unacquainted with many of the people and places, I think that these
conditions in no way hinder the general usefulness of what I do, if
the things which I have written or shall have written have been taken
from men whose testimony is endowed with truth. If anyone objects
that I did not see, he cannot object on the grounds that I did not
hear, because I believe that, in a way, hearing is almost as good as
seeing. For although, "What has been thrust into the ears stirs the
mind more slowly than those things which have appeared before
reliable eyes,"[146] nevertheless, who doubts those historians who
wrote the lives of the saints, who wrote down not only what they saw
with their own eyes, but what they drunk up from what others have
understood and told them? For if the narrator is reliable and, as
one reads, "testifies to what he saw and heard,"[147] then stories
told by those who speak the truth about events no one has seen are
clearly acceptable as true. If there is anyone who objects, and who
despises this undertaking, he has the option, if he wishes, of
offering corrections. Whoever is displeased with what we have done
may write his own version.
Thus the Lord's army, led by Raymond, Count of Saint-Gilles, Bohemund,
Godfrey, and many others, entered Armenia, rejoicing at the
possibility of Turkish attacks. On their way they took a fort which
was difficult to approach, so that any attempt to attack it seemed
futile. A pagan of that district, a certain Symeon, well known for
having Christian surname, asked our leaders for control of that area,
so that he could guard it against Turkish attacks. They did not
refuse the favor he requested, and he remained there, intending to
guard the land. Then our men moved on and reached Cappadocian
Caesarea.[148]After they left the province of Caesarea, they reached
a very lovely, wealthy city,[149] which the Turkish army had been
besieging for three weeks before the arrival of our army. But their
siege produced no results. When our men approached, the citizens
voluntarily surrendered the city. A certain knight called Peter of
the Alps asked that the leaders grant him the right to protect the
region in the name of the emperor of the Greeks and of our own
leaders. His request was willingly granted, since the meritorious
fidelity of the petitioner was well known. As the day then drew to a
close, Bohemund heard that a large but insignificant group of the
enemies who had earlier besieged this city was moving ahead of our
men. And so, taking with him only his immediate retinue, he set out
in pursuit, but did not find those whom he sought. Now the army
reached a town called Coxon,[150] where they found great abundance of
useful supplies. The inhabitants of this place happily opened their
gates to our men, and for three days fed them properly and well.
After the count of Saint-Gilles heard that the Turks, who usually
supplied the garrison for the city of Antioch, had left the
stronghold, he sent part of his army ahead to take possession of the
city and to maintain control of it. He chose four men from among the
leaders of his army, of whom three had the same name, that is, Peter,
and the fourth was called William of Montpellier, a man well know
among us for his feats of arms, and he gave them 500 knights to lead.
And so, not far from the above-mentioned city, they entered valley
and in that valley found a fort, and there they heard that the Turks,
with a large army, were in control of the city of Antioch, and in
addition they learned that the Turks were making great preparations
of men and arms, to defend themselves against the French, in case
they attacked. Therefore one of those Peters we named above, whose
surname had been derived from a place called Roaix, separating
himself from his companions, entered a valley of a town named Rugia,
[151] where he found Turks and Saracens, with whom he fought. After
killing many of them, he pursued the others. The Armenians took
notice of this and, pleased with the man's bravery, and impressed by
his unusual boldness against the Turks, surrendered voluntarily to
his command. Quickly thereafter he was given control of a city named
Rusa[152] when its inhabitants capitulated, and several other forts
surrendered to him. The rest of the army departed from Coxon, the
city we mentioned, and marched through high mountains along
incredibly rocky paths so narrow that no one could pass the man in
front of him, but each man had to proceed one step at a time,
stepping carefully, in single file. A deep gulley lay beneath the
narrow, rough path, so that if a horse happened to push up against
another horse, he would fall to instant death. There you would have
seen armed men, who, having just been converted by the hardship and
starvation of the journey from knights into foot-soldiers, were
suffering wretchedly, smashing their fists, tearing their hair,
begging for the relief of death, selling their shields, helmets, and
all of their arms, regardless of their true worth, for three or four,
perhaps five cents. When they could find no buyer, they threw their
shields and other fine equipment into the gulley, to disencumber
their weakened, endangered bodies. When they finally emerged from
these rocks and precipices, after unbearable suffering, they entered
a town called Marasim,[153] whose inhabitants came forth joyfully to
meet them, bring abundant supplies to sell to the soldiers. The rich
earth replenished the exhausted men, until the presence of their
leader Bohemund, who was following those who were waiting for him
there, was restored to them.
Finally they arrived in the plains where the renowned city of Antioch
was situated, whose particular glories, beyond those by means of
which she flourished in this world, are those which grew out of her
Christian fame. Pharphar was the name of the river on which she was
located. When our men had reached a place near the bridge over that
river, some of them, who had been assigned the task of forming the
vanguard of the army, met up with a large force of Turks, who were
well supplied with provisions, and were hurrying to bring aid to the
besieged. When our men saw them, they charged with Frankish ferocity,
and almost instantly defeated them and scattered them in all
directions. Like charging rams, they tore them to pieces, and the
Turks threw away the arms that only moments before had been able to
inspire terror. The mass of foot-soldiers fled through their own
lines, in their haste and confusion wounding and crushing their own
allies. The madness of pride now felt humiliation, and the man who
anticipated taking pleasure in heaping up destruction upon us was now
happy if he could get himself out alive, even though dishonored.
Those who had come to bring aid to the besieged were turned into
instant, filthy piles of cadavers. The Almighty mercifully converted
what they had brought to aid the besieged into gifts for the
besiegers. Thus after they had been destroyed, like grain crushed by
hail, great quantities of grain and wine fell into our hands, and the
foot-soldiers acquired the valuable horses, camels, mules, and asses
that remained. And so our men built camps on the shore of the
above-mentioned river. Bohemund, together with 4000 of his best men,
undertook blockade of the city's gate, and remained on guard all that
night to prevent anyone from getting in or out. The next day, the
twelfth calends of November,[154] the fourth day of the week, in the
middle of the day, the army arrived, set up camp, and began a
blockade of three of the city's gates; the fourth gate was left free,
since it was inaccessible to the besiegers because of the great
height of the surrounding mountains, and the narrowness of its paths.
However, not only the inhabitants, but the Turks themselves who were
inside the city were so frightened by us that none of them came out
to fight us. No one put up any resistance, but instead they behaved
as though we had come to the market, and this pretence of peace
continued, as though a truce had been declared, for fifteen days.
The city was surrounded by signs that augured well for beginning this
siege; fresh abundance of everything necessary to sustain life was
vividly present; I am surprised that at that time the crusaders found
abundant grapes hanging on the vines everywhere, wheat shut up not in
granaries, but in ditches and underground pits. The trees had plenty
of apples, and whatever made their lives more comfortable was
supplied by an extremely fertile soil. The Armenians and the Syrians,
who formed the entire population of the city (except for the Turks,
who, as I mentioned earlier, were not permanent residents), since
they inhabited the city itself, and were titular Christians, visited
us in great numbers, and told them whatever they had learned among us.
They enticed the Franks with their deceptive, repeated lies, and,
whispering in their ears, using the most flattering terms, they
claimed that they shunned the Turks, although they did not allow
their own wives to go beyond the city limits; when they left the
Franks, and were back in the city, they reported to the Turks
whatever news they had been able to gather about the weaknesses of
the Christian side. Thus, informed by the Syrians about our plans,
the Turks from time to time rushed out from the city to sneak up upon
our men and attack them as they were searching for food, and they
covered over the most used paths and made unexpected attacks upon
them as they sought the mountains and the sea, never permitting them
to rest from ambush or open attack. Not far off was a fort named
Harenc[155] in which they had placed a garrison of the fiercest
Turkish warriors, who made frequent raids upon the Franks when they
were unprepared. Our leaders, unwilling to suffer such affronts,
sent a large force of cavalry and infantry to find out where those
who were doing so much harm to their men were concealing themselves.
When they found their hiding place, they at first attacked them, but
then, cleverly simulating flight, they permitted themselves to be
brought to a position where they knew that Bohemund was waiting in
ambush. At that point, two of our men died in pursuit of the Turks.
Coming out of his hiding-place, Bohemund fell upon the enemy, leading
the group who appeared to have turned their backs, delivering the
punishment they deserved by attacking the Turks with all his forces.
He killed many of them, made others prisoners, and brought those he
had captured back to the gate of the city, where, to terrify the
citizens who were watching, he ordered that they be decapitated.
Some of the citizens, however, climbed to the top of this gate and
wore out our men by discharging so many arrows that a cloud of
missiles flowed in the midst of Bohemund's camp, and one woman died
when struck by one of the arrows. Finally the leaders consulted with
each other, and decided to set up a fort at the top of a mountain
which they called Malregard, and which, as a formidable stronghold,
might serve to drive away the Turks. Thus the fort was being
constructed, and there you would have seen the greatest princes
laboring at carrying rocks. There no poor man might complain that he
had to endure hardships inflicted upon him by the power of great men,
since those who were in charge would permit themselves no rest in
bringing the work to completion. For they knew by the instinct of
pious nature, even if they had not read it, what Marius, according to
Sallust, said, "If you behave gently, but rule the army firmly, you
will be a master, not an general."[156] And when the fort was built,
the leaders took turns guarding it. Christmas was near, and the
grain and other food for the body began to diminish severely, and
throughout the army everything that was for sale was expensive.
There was no energy to go even a moderate distance to seek food;
within the territory held by those who called themselves Christians
almost nothing to eat could be found; no one could go into the
Saracen region without large military force. Therefore, compelled by
hunger, the leaders held a meeting to discuss how to deal with the
danger of such a large group of men starving unless something were
done for them. Finally they decided to send part of the army to
search everywhere for supplies, while the others maintained the siege
they had undertaken. Bohemund then said, "If, O powerful soldiers,
it seems prudent to you, I, with the support of the army of the count
of Flanders, shall devote myself to the effort of procuring food."
The offer was accepted gratefully by the younger men, since they were
worn out by greater thirst and more urgent need for food. The day
after the Lord's Nativity, which was the second day of the week, had
been celebrated, with what emotion and energy they could muster, the
two princes just mentioned, together with 20,000 foot-soldiers and
cavalry, set out as swiftly and as energetically as they could to
attack the Saracen provinces. Meanwhile the Turks, Arabs, Saracens,
and other Gentiles, who had assembled from Jerusalem, Damascus, Aleph,
[157] and other places, with one purpose in mind, to bring aid,
hastened to Antioch in large numbers. They had heard that the
Christians were coming into their own lands, to gather food and other
supplies; as dusk fell, they moved in formation towards the place
where they had learned our men were, with an eagerness that would
soon be turned to grief. They divided themselves into two lines of
battle, setting the first in front of us, and moving to position the
other behind us. But the count of Flanders, trusting in divine power,
with the sign of the Cross fixed to his heart and body, relying
confidently on the excellent count Bohemund, attacked the enemy with
the courage to be expected of such men. The battle began, but from
the first moment of contact, the enemy turned in flight. The battle
turned into victory, and many a sharp spear shattered in the bodies
of those who had turned their backs to flee. The enemy's shields
were battered by long ashwood lances that were struck with such force
that they dwindled into slivers. No helmet prevented a head struck
by the edges of the Crusaders' swords from being wounded; and they
found the stitching of their so-called impenetrable cuirasses too
fragile. Armor protected no part of the body; whatever the
barbarians thought firm was weak; whatever the Franks touched
shattered. The field was covered with innumerable corpses, and the
thick pile of dead men disturbed the evenness of the grassy field.
Everywhere the earth, sprinkled with the hateful blood of Gentiles,
grew dark. Those who survived the carnage we inflicted saved their
lives by their speed afoot, and were pleased to unburden themselves
of their spoils, not out of generosity towards us, but to increase
their speed. Our state of mind changed utterly: fear changed into
courage, battle into victory, mourning into joy, hunger into plenty.
He who was naked now had clothing, those who were on foot now had
chariots, the poor man had money, the man who had been cast out now
danced with gratitude and joy. While these things were going on, the
fact that Bohemund and the count of Flanders were not present at the
siege was not hidden from the Turks who were in control of Antioch.
Made more confident by their absence, they came out, though
cautiously, to challenge us in battle more often, trying to find out
where the besiegers were weakest. Finally, seeing day, the third day
of the week, that seemed apt for trying their courage, they made a
sudden assault, and killed many of our foot-soldiers and knights, who
were caught unaware. The magnificent bishop of Puy lost a mainstay
of his court, the man who was his standard-bearer, who was among
those who perished. Had not the the river upon whose banks their
camp was pitched separated them, the carnage among the Christians
would have been very great. Meanwhile, Bohemund was on his way back,
having pillaged the Saracen provinces; he was traveling through the
mountainous area in which Tancred was staying, thinking that there he
might be able to find something to help the men besieging Antioch.
Although some of our men had carried off whatever they could see,
many found nothing at all, and returned empty-handed, that is,
without anything that could be eaten. Bohemund, however, never
without a plan, when he saw them wandering about unsuccessfully,
spoke these words, "If you are looking for material with which to
sustain life, if you want to provide adequately for the bodily needs
dictated by hunger, then while you search for food do not risk your
lives. Stop scurrying through the pathless mountains, since you know
that your enemies are preparing hidden traps for you in these
horrible, desolate places. Let the army move forward united, for
each is made stronger by the presence of the other, so that if one
part is attacked violently, the other may offer assistance. For even
as a sheep, if it escapes from the shepherd's grasp, is exposed to
the wolf's jaws, so the knight, if he wanders forth alone from the
tents of his companions, invariably becomes a plaything for
plunderers. Therefore remain together with each other and with your
men, and rather eat very little food than feed upon rare delicacies
in permanent captivity. To go out and come back together, to take
pleasure in being together, to do nothing rash, these are the things
that sensible men do; anyone who wanders away wishes to die." He
spoke, and returned to his companions, without enriching the
besiegers in no way by his return. But the clever Armenians and
Syrians, when they saw that the army's food was running out, and
there was nothing left to buy, traveled about among all the places
that they knew, bought grain, and brought it back to the army that
was suffering from a lack of supplies. They sold the grain at
inordinate prices, so that the amount of grain a single ass could
carry brought eight of their besants, which they called "purpled,"
approximately 120 sous. Clearly those who could not possibly pay
such a price were in great danger of succumbing to a terrible crisis
of hunger. And if the leaders were already becoming hard pressed to
pay such price, what could he do who, for all his previous wealth,
was now all but a pauper?
Great torture had come upon them lack of food was crushing them; the
madness of hunger laid low the highest by exhausting their strength.
Bread was far off, and they had neither the meat of cattle nor of pig:
the hands of the indigent had torn up the grass far and wide.
Whatever food they had finally had disappeared. Their limbs were
weak, and they had lost heart. The skin of those who had nothing to
eat was stretched with dreadful swelling. Without nourishment their
strength ebbed, and they died. A brief torment delivered those who
were killed in battle, but those who were hungry were tortured at
length; therefore protracted death brought them a greater reward.
Clearly angelic bread fed those who rejoiced in the finest reward for
their sufferings, the more they bore the burden of agonies. Others
fought, struggling to endure various misfortunes, and scarcely
anything went in their favor; they preferred unhappiness to joy. Now
they struggled to follow Christ, bearing a double cross, rejoicing
that they had surpassed His commands, who had imposed upon them only
one cross. Hideous hunger gnawed at their weak hearts, and their
dried-up stomachs cracked open; suffering racked their bowels, and
destroyed their thinking. Disease ate away at their minds, already
attacked by the ferocity of battle, and both day and troubling night
threatened slaughter. Their minds were sharp although their strength
was slight; their illness refreshed the energy of the soul, and they
did not fear to go forth to shed blood.[158]
Meanwhile, William, who was called the Carpenter, not because he was
a craftsman in wood, but because he prevailed in battle like a
carpenter, by cutting men down, and who was from beyond the Seine,
powerful in words, but less so in action, magni nominis umbra, "the
shade of a great name,"[159] a man who set out to do things too great
for him, but finished nothing, who when he set out for Jerusalem took
from his poor neighbors the little that they had to provide himself
shamefully with provisions for the journey, this man, I say,
unwilling to suffer hunger, while he could see others much needier
than he remaining faithful, silently fled. His reputation in war was
for boasting only, and not for deeds done. In Spain, when a Frankish
expedition took place against pagans who had come from Africa, he,
whose boldness was entirely confined to words, retreated like wretch,
leaving countless men stranded by his flight. This probably took
place by the will of God, so that divine judgment may show that those
men whom public repute has made famous are worse than everyone else,
and less capable of bearing difficulties. Nor is this evident in his
case alone, but it is very clearly the case among others, whose names
I shall pass over, that those whose reputation for martial ferocity
among us had been pre-eminent became weaker than rabbits when they
took their place in the Lord's army. The more their conduct deviated
from the true path, the more contemptible it should be held. While
they were here in France, fighting unjustly, making beggars with
their criminal looting, they clearly should have been afraid that
their souls would undergo certain damnation; but there, where they
had every chance of eternal life, their sinful cowardice was evident.
Then, like the stars that, according to the Apocalypse (VI.13; VIII.
10; IX.1) were seen to fall from the sky, Peter, the celebrated
Hermit about whom we spoke previously, also foolishly fled.
Why do you follow this plan, Peter? Why do you forget the meaning of
your name? If Peter is originally "stone," which designates
something solid, what do you mean by thinking of flight? Stone
cannot easily be moved. Stay your steps and recollect your old
hermitage, your earlier fasting. You should have joined your bones
to your skin,[160] you should have stretched your stomach with the
least roots, fed it with the grass eaten by cattle. Why do you
remember immoderate eating? That is not the monastic rule, nor what
you learned from the woman who gave you birth; or let your own
teachings drive you. Even as you compelled people to go on this
journey, and have made them into paupers, so you should go before
them, carrying out the commandments that you have taught them. Once
he abstained from grain, eating only fish and wine. For a monk, more
pious food would be leeks, cress, turnips, cardamum, nuts, filberts,
barley, lentils, and herbs, without fish or wine, but with crumbs of
bread.[161]
And so the refugees from the pious siege and from the holy suffering
were pursued by Tancred, a man steady in the pursuit of Christ's
business, who followed and caught them; and, as was right, heaping
abuse on them, he brought them back. He placed no faith in their
promises to return until each had sworn on his faith to return to the
sacred army and to submit to whatever judgment the leaders might make
about their desertion. Therefore William, willing or unwilling, was
compelled to return, and he was brought to the court of the
magnificent Bohemund, outside of which he remained awake all night.
The next day, at dawn's early light, he was led into the presence of
this fine prince. To Peter, covered with the shame he had earned for
himself, the leader said, "Although the name of the Frankish race,
stands forth with regal majesty everywhere, and although France, the
mother of virtue and resolve in accordance with God's will has sent
forth men who until now have been the most morally unblemished, she
bore you, you, useless babbler and most impure of all men, to her own
disgrace and infamy, as though you were some kind of monster. O good
Father of all things, what kind of Carpenter did we have, who, like
construction worker with a pick axe, hacked away, with lances and
swords, at the backs of the Gentiles? See how the craftsman has worn
out a thousand swords with the strength of his blows, and
single-handedly slain the pagan people while we merely rested. Where
is that haughty firmness, that quickness with words that was
nourished at the Loire and at the Seine, which has resulted in so
little action, but in so much steady, thundering speech? Alone, he
had been able to aid the laboring moon,[162] yet, foully sluggish, he
has done nothing useful whatever. Certainly it is in accord with
your great strength that the man who had betrayed the people of the
Lord in Spain exert himself in Syria to achieve the full measure of
honor. Let it be so. Certainly it suits you to do nothing else; in
this way you will receive the most generous reward for behavior that
has been so wretched." Now his derisory speech began to make the
Franks who were standing there feel shame, and with difficulty they
restrained the angry man from speaking. Tempering his severity, the
illustrious man spared the wretch, and was content to exact from him
the oath to continue the journey to Jerusalem, whether prosperity or
penury attended them. And William promised that Tancred, who had
prevented him from escaping, would henceforth be his friend, if he
decided to behave in a manly fashion. After these words were spoken,
they came to mutual agreement. A short time later, that remarkable
Carpenter, who, when he was out of harm's way, once threatened to be
executioner to the Turks, forgot his oath, and that profligate of
fidelity did not hesitate to flee furtively again. However, let no
one be surprised that the army, although pious, had suffered such
want, since it is clear that, with the great crimes they had
committed, they struggled against receiving the divine gifts which
would have been theirs had they behaved properly. Such need
afflicted them, and they were so horribly overcome by lack of food,
that if any of our men happened to move any distance from the army,
anyone else from the army who found him alone would kill him, even
for the slightest gain. Such utter devastation raged among our men
that scarcely thousand horses could be found in so great an army;
everyone was in beastly agony from a lack of food, which did not
prevent, but rather inspired some men to criminal actions. Tortured
by divine punishment, many of them were brought to remember their
true selves by repenting; despairing of their own strength, they were
driven by hope for something better to rely on God alone, the only
true support in such tribulation. Under these circumstances they
learned increasingly that the more they watched their supplies
diminish and their strength ebb away, the more they were taught to
submit with appropriate humility to God, for whom they believed all
things possible.
Moreover, one of the delegates of the tyrannical emperor, whose name,
unless I am mistaken, was Tetigus, and who was present at this siege,
was a man heavy with age; his nose had been cut on some occasion or
other, and for this reason he had a golden nose. A skilled liar,
compelled by fear of the Turks as well as driven by the danger of
starvation, he addressed the leaders: "Necessity compels your
excellency, O finest of leaders, to recognize how hard pressed we are
by internal suffering, and how much we are goaded on by external
fears. Since battle threatens us outwardly, while hunger insistently
gnaws at us inwardly, there seems to be no refuge for us anywhere, no
solace that would permit us to catch our breath. If in your wisdom
it seems appropriate, grant me permission to go back to Byzantium,
and I shall see to it that grain, wine, wheat, meat, cereal, cheese,
and various other necessary items be brought here by a large fleet.
I shall also see to it that constant commercial traffic in these
items will be established by imperial decree. By land, all of Greece
will send to you horses and whatever other animals and supplies may
be useful. The emperor himself, who has not known of your great need
until now, as soon as he hears of your distress, will provide aid to
you in your great need. And I myself swear to carry out faithfully
what I have promised; and when I have finished these tasks I shall
certainly not be afraid to present myself here again to undertake the
labors of this siege. If you fear that I am leaving your camp
because of hunger, lo, my tents and my men shall remain here with you.
Although I am leaving them for a while, I shall not be able finally
to value them lightly." He spoke, and charmed the ears of the
leaders with his smooth, elaborate speech. Then he left, not at all
fearing what punishment his perjury might incur. Having fabricated a
complete lie, he never afterwards gave thought to what he had
promised.
The presence and strength of the enemy began to constrain us so
greatly that none of our men presumed to leave his tents or the
encampment for any business whatever. In addition, within the camp,
famine, like a madness, plagued them. For if, as they say, "nothing
does more harm than hunger wrung from the unwilling," what suffering
do you think they endured, to what crosses were they constantly
condemned, without a single, even false, consoling hope, as they laid
siege each day to the impenetrable walls? The ordinary people, eaten
away by poverty, wandered through various provinces; driven by the
lack of food, some began to wander towards Cyprus, others to Romania,
while others made their way to the mountains. But the frequent
forays of the Turks had closed off the road to the sea. In short,
there was no exit for our men.
When Bohemund heard that a very large army of Turks was approaching
the Crusaders' camp, he called the other leaders together and said,
"Since the very small part of our army that remains seems
insufficient and too weak to fight single battle, nor can it be split
into two parts to carry on two battles, we should consider, if we are
going to fight the attacking Turks with whatever kind of army we can
muster, which soldiers to leave to continue the siege of the city,
and which to defend our tents. Therefore, if it seems reasonable to
you, let us assign the best part of the finest infantrymen to guard
the besieged city; in our judgment, the strongest knights should be
put up against the madness of the Turks." He spoke, and none of the
leaders spoke against his plan.
The enemy army now set up camp near the fort called Areg, which was
close to the city, across the river Pharphar. The day was ending,
and Bohemund, having summoned the entire army, came out of the camp
and quickly set up camp between the river and the lake next to it.
In the morning he swiftly instructed sentinels to determine the size
of the Turkish forces, as well as what they were doing and where they
were located, and then to report to him as quickly as possible. They
had advanced a short distance and begun to search out the enemy,
whose advance could be clearly heard, when they saw an infinite
number of soldiers, divided into legions of two battalions, appear
before them. They were followed by very large group of foot-soldiers.
As soon as they saw them the sentinels returned: "The enemy," they
said, "is at hand; see to it that they find you strong and prepared."
Then, to stir up his brothers in Christ and fellow-soldiers,
Bohemund said, "O finest knights, your frequent victories provide an
explanation for your great boldness. Thus far you have fought for
the faith against the infidel, and have emerged triumphant from every
danger. Having already felt the abundant evidence of Christ's
strength should give you pleasure, and should convince you beyond all
doubt that in the most severe battles it is not you, but Christ, who
has fought. In the face of any attack, what desperate folly can
enter the mind of you who have thus far, with God's assistance,
escaped harm greater than any men have ever encountered, and who have
achieved triumphs impossible for mere human beings? I ask only that
you place your trust in your own experience, so that at last no human
force may now resist us. Fortify your minds, proceed carefully, and
strive mightily to emulate Christ, who carries your banners, as he
usually does, and call upon him." They responded by shouting that
they would behave faithfully, energetically, and prudently, and they
entrusted to him, because he was the most experienced in battle, the
task of dividing up the army; Bohemund ordered each leader to collect
his liege men and to draw them up into individual battle lines. Six
lines were drawn up, as he had directed, each to attack the enemy in
separate formations, and five of them cautiously marched forward.
Bohemund followed behind with his own group, to offer help if needed.
Drawn up in this manner, closely packed and filled with courage, our
troops went forth to fight, each man encouraging the other by his
close presence, so that no one, to the extent that it depended upon
each individual, would allow the conflict to falter.
Swiftly the enemy came forth with curved spears; as their courage
grew warm, they pricked their horses with their spurs, and the air
was shaken with wild clamor on both sides. The battle-lines clashed,
the Turks threw their javelins, the Franks thrust their weapons
through the breasts of their enemies. Swords grew dull from striking
blows, the collision of steel made a splitting noise. The swift
right hand, thirsting for the filthy blood, inflicted sword wounds.
Like a line of flying crows, like a countless flock of thrushes, thus
the arrows blocked the celestial light, crowding and darkening the
air with the hail of spears. Arms resounded, horses were caught up
in the charge, bronze echoed. They grieved for the losses and
rejoiced in the successes, making for wild discord.[163]
When the entire force of the army behind the vanguard poured into the
hideous strife, the sharpness of our men began to grow dull under the
fierce assault of the enemy; as their numbers grew, our men began to
lose some of their previous ardor. When Bohemund, who was waiting in
the rear with reinforcements, saw this, he gnashed his teeth in rage.
He sent for his constable, Robert, the son of Girardus, and gave him
the following directions, "Go, and make use of the courage which you
should now show, and which is right for such a great task; keep in
mind the purpose of this effort, and understand that our motive is to
aid all of Christianity by redeeming Jerusalem for God and liberating
his tomb. It is clear to you that to carry out this task divine
rather than human aid is necessary. Go then, and offer your bravery
for the suffering Christ, and do not let such an opportunity find you
slow to act, for God may be preparing to give you great glory."
Inflamed by these words, relying on God with his whole soul,
He sprung forward, and tore at the thick crowd of enemies with his
sword, holding aloft the standards of the duke, which inspired such
awe that wherever they appeared the spirits of our men were uplifted,
and he raged like a lioness who, bereft of her cubs, kills anyone in
her way. The sword carved a path, cut through the dense battalions,
smashing everyone who got in the way, pointing the way for the
soldiers who followed.[164]
When our men saw that the familiar standard of Bohemund was not
faltering in the least, and the constable was raging with such
eagerness against the Turks, they all took heart and attacked with
such force that flight was the only protection the enemy could hope
for. Our men fell upon the fleeing Turks, who were running at great
speed, helter-skelter, and we did not cease cutting them down and
decapitating their bodies all the way to the narrow bridges of the
Pharphar, After such slaughter, the Turks entered the fort of Areg,
which I mentioned above, looted it entirely, set it afire, and then
fled, never to return to it. However, the perfidious Armenians and
Syrians, who had awaited the outcome of the battle without taking
sides, so that they could join the side to whom victory was granted,
when they saw the Turks vanquished, moved forward and blocked the
roads, killing the Turks as they tried to go by. The painful
indigence of our men was somewhat alleviated with what was taken from
the conquered enemy; horses and money provided relief, and even more
so, our growing triumphs vitiated the Turkish reputation for
fierceness. After the victory, they cut off the heads of one hundred
of those who had fallen in battle, and hung them before the walls of
Antioch for the besieged Turks to look at. It is, of course, the
custom of the Gentiles to keep the decapitated heads and to display
them as a sign of victory. While these things were going on, the
Babylonian emperor sent ambassadors to the leaders of our army,
congratulating them for what they had done to the Turks; in addition,
he promised, although falsely, that he would become Christian, if our
people would grant and restore to him what the Turks had taken from
his kingdom. We had said earlier that the Babylonian empire was far
more powerful than the other eastern kingdoms, but that the Turks,
more ferocious in arms and in spirits, had usurped much of their
territory. Those who had remained to maintain the siege of the city
had fought bitterly with the inhabitants, not merely at one point,
but at every gate of the city. This triumph occurred on the fifth
day before the Ides of February,[165] the day before the beginning of
the fast. It was right that on the day before Christians were to
fast they grew fat on what they most desired, the blood of their evil
enemies. The Franks, in their fervent victory celebrations, thanked
God for granting them so many of their prayers, and went back to
their camps, loaded with booty. The Turks, on the other hand,
ashamed to be seen, would have made their way, if they could, through
secret passages, back to their native lands.
Then the leaders of the army, considering the many humiliations they
were suffering from the attacks of the besieged people, held a
meeting and decided, to prevent the chance of any diminution of their
forces, to build, at the gate of the city, where the pagan temple was
located, a fort by means of which they could restrain, to some extent,
the enemy's forays. All the junior officers assented to this plan.
Then the count of Saint-Gilles was the first to speak: "I shall
provide for and protect the fort; you must help build it only."
Bohemund said, "If it please you, I promise to go with this count who
has offered his services, to the Gate of Saint Simeon, where we shall
both supervise those who do the work. Let the others continue the
siege, and prevent the enemy from getting out of the city." And so
the Count and Bohemund then proceeded to the Gate, as they had
proposed. Those who had remained to build the castle began to work,
but the Turks made a sudden, violent attack on the beginnings of the
structure. With their sudden attack they compelled our men to flee,
killing many of them, bringing a day of grief to the Franks. The
next day the Turks learned that some of our leaders had left the
siege and gone to the Gate of Saint Simeon. They prepared a large
force and quickly moved to encounter those who were returning from
the Gate. When they saw the count and Bohemund, together with a
large military force, coming towards them, they began to shout and
utter hideous noises. They surrounded our men on all sides,
inflicting terrible wounds on them, hurling spears, firing arrows,
and savagely killing them. Their attack was so severe that our men
scarcely were able to escape into the nearby mountains, or wherever
else escape seemed possible. Those who were, in manner of speaking,
swifter than winged horses, escaped; anyone whom the swift pagans
found slower, however, died. In this disaster, as it was considered,
a thousand of our men perished; those who were found, because of
their proven faith, to be acceptable, received glorious rewards after
death for their sufferings. For those who needed to expiate their
sins, the outpouring of blood alone was the most potent way to purge
their guilt. In great anguish because of such a misfortune, and
separated from his companions because he had taken a shorter road,
Bohemund, with a few of his knights, whom he found banded together,
returned to the siege. Driven to distraction by the death of so many
of their own men, sobbing bitterly, crying out to Christ, they moved
out against those who had inflicted such pain upon them, and reached
the field of battle. Confident because of their recent victory, the
cohorts of the enemy stood firm, expecting to perform exactly as they
boasted they had performed against Bohemund and the count. Against
these proponents of evil the loving God in his mercy arranged proper
remedy for his suffering people. Therefore these famous men, moved
by grief and compassion for their dead brothers, with the sign of the
Lord's cross fixed on their foreheads and in their hearts, hurled
themselves with all their strength against the enemy. As soon as
they saw this, the enemy fled towards the Pharphar river, intending
to cross the strait. In their hasty flight the mass of men was
jammed together in the attempt to cross, and as the wedge of knights
and infantry piled up in a very small space, struggling to pass each
other, men knocked each other down. Our men watched all this very
carefully, and when the crowd of fugitives seemed to thicken, a fall
was more effective than a wound. If any man fell into the water and
tried to get out either by hanging on to the columns of the bridge,
or by swimming to dry land, our men located on the shore forced him
back into the water to drown. The signs of carnage were so great
that the Pharphar seemed to flow with blood, not with water. The
sounds made there by the vanquished and the victors, by the dying and
by those who were forcing them to die, were so terrible that the
highest vault of the heavens seemed to resound with their shrieks.
The air became clouded with arrows and other kinds of missiles, and
the brightness of the solar globe was covered by a shower of flying
spears. The women of the city who were Christian stood on the
ramparts of the wall, feeding upon the sight; as they watched the
Turks perish and submit to calamity they groaned openly, but then
turned their faces away and secretly applauded the fortunate course
events had taken for the Franks. The Armenians and Syrians, although
they were Christian, were compelled to fire arrows at us; some even
did so willingly. Twelve of the principal enemy leaders, called
"satraps" in the Chaldean language, and "emirs" in the barbaric
tongue, fell in battle on this occasion, as well as many others,
amounting to perhaps 1500 of the wealthiest and most important people,
upon whom the entire defense of the city rested. Those who survived
the carnage no longer hurled their customary insults at our men;
their boisterous, scurrilous chattering ceased. On that day their
daily joy was turned into grief.
Then oncoming night separated the enemies; strength and arms dropped
from their agitated minds.[166]
This victory for us resulted in an apparent dimunition of their
strength and force, and their derisory remarks entirely ceased.
Moreover, the short supply of many things whose lack pressed our men
was amply replenished, thanks to God's benevolence. At daylight the
next day, some of the Turks came forth from the city to collect the
bodies of their dead; they found some, but others had disappeared,
carried off in the bed of the river. They buried those they found in
the temple called the Mahometry, on the other side of the Pharphar,
near the gate of Antioch. In these tombs they buried cloaks, gold
besants, bows and arrows, and many other utensils that I shall
refrain from describing. When they heard about these funeral
ceremonies, our men armed themselves and entered the cemetery, broke
open the tombs, took out the bodies, heaped them up and dropped them
into deep pit. Then they decapitated them and had the heads brought
to their own tents, in order to calculate accurately the number they
had killed, with the exception of the bodies that the ambassadors of
the Babylonian emperor transported on the backs of four horses, as
evidence of the victory won over the Turks. When the Turks saw this,
they suffered more bitterly from the uncovering of the bodies than
from the killings themselves. Now they did not restrain their grief
with a few modest tears, but, putting aside all shame, they screamed
in public agony. Three days later they began building the fort
mentioned above, with the very stones they had taken from the tombs
of the Gentiles that they had broken open. When the fort was
finished, the besieged town began to suffer exceedingly, and their
discomfort became even greater. Our own men were now free to go
where they wished, and even the mountain paths, which previously had
been treacherous, were now favorable for searching for food. With
all the roads shut off to the Turks, one section near where the fort
and the temple next to the fort were located, seemed to offer the
possibility of entering and leaving the river. If we properly
equipped this fort, which belonged to us, none of the enemy could
have hoped to have found a way out. A meeting was held, and the
leaders decided that they would choose one of our men to guard the
fort, to fortify it carefully, and to defend it faithfully, so that
the pagans might be kept from wandering through the mountains and
fields, and might be cut off from entering or leaving the city. When
they were looking for someone fit for such task, Tancred, who earned
and still deserves the title of wise young man in the Lord's wars,
unable to restrain himself, broke in at this point, saying:, "If I
were to know what future advantages for me might result from the
present hard task, then I might undertake, carefully and with the aid
of my retinue, to strengthen this fort, and I shall try to block our
enemies from moving along the roads they are accustomed to use."
Pleased with his generous offer, the leaders immediately promised to
give him 400 silver marks. Displeased with the offer, which seemed
not to match the magnitude of the task, Tancred nevertheless agreed;
and so, lest he be considered cowardly if he refused, he gathered his
knights and clients quickly and resolutely, took charge of the fort,
and cut the enemy off from the possibility of getting out through the
city's gates. By this means he inflicted upon them the greatest
scarcity of food for their horses, as well as a great dearth of wood
and other necessary items. This outstanding man chose to remain
there resolutely, cutting off all traffic, and he set about
surrounding the city and setting up a vigilant blockade. On the very
day on which he entered the fort, a large group of Armenians and
Syrians came through the mountains, bringing supplies of all sorts to
the besieged city. This superb knight, to ensure that the task he
had begun would have positive outcome, intercepted them, compelled by
God more than by his own boldness, and seized a great amount of grain,
wine, oil, and other no less necessary supplies. The good man could
no longer complain, that while he was carrying out such a holy task
God was forgetful of him, but he had learned, for the first time,
from this remarkable good fortune that he would never again lack
bodily necessities, and that he would not lack eternal reward from
God, after His earthly assistance. The Turks were entirely prevented
from leaving the city or moving around outside the walls, but were
compelled to make do with what they could find within the city walls,
until Antioch was under siege.
In the course of this siege the strength of Christian law flourished
greatly, and, if anyone was convicted of a crime, he submitted to the
severe judgment of the leaders of the army. Moreover, sexual crimes
were punished with particular severity, and this was just. Those who
were surrounded by atrocious deprivations, who seemed to be exposed
to the swords of the enemy every day, if God were not protecting them,
should not have been at the mercy of lustful thoughts. And how
could pleasure enter where the fear of death was ceaselessly present?
So it happened that merely speaking of a prostitute or of a brothel
was considered intolerable, and they feared dying beneath the swords
of the pagans if they committed such a crime. If any of the
unmarried women was found to be pregnant, she and her pimp were
submitted to hideous punishments. A certain monk of the most
prestigious monastery, who had fled from the cloister to go on the
expedition to Jerusalem, moved not by piety but by whim, was caught
with a certain woman, and convicted, if I am not mistaken, by a trial
by fire. Then they were stripped naked and led, by order of the
bishop of Puy and others, through all the nearby camps, and beaten in
the cruellest fashion with whips, to the terror of the onlookers.
The above-mentioned bishop of Puy assiduously exhorted men to be more
patient in their sufferings and more careful about their vices; he
let no Sunday or holiday go by without preaching the authority of
holy writ through every corner of the camp. He enjoined every priest,
bishop, abbot, and cleric whom he met and who seemed educated, to do
the same.
It seems to me worthwhile, since the word "abbot" has made its way
into my work, to tell about a certain abbot who, when this journey
was first proposed among our people, finding himself without
sufficient funds for the pilgrimage, cut into his forehead by I know
not what means the sign of the cross, which ordinarily was made out
of some kind of material and affixed to clothing. It did not look as
though it had been painted on, but as though it had been inflicted,
like stigmata received in battle. After he had done this, to make
the trick look authentic, he claimed that an angel had appeared to
him in a vision and placed it there. His hopes were not disappointed;
when the restless crowd, always avid for novelty, heard this story,
the man was innundated with gifts, both from people in and from
people outside of his own region. Such a trick, however, could not
be hidden from the eyes of those who looked at him carefully, because
a slimy liquid seemed very clearly to ooze from the forcefully
inscribed lines that formed the cross itself. Finally he set out on
the crusade, was present at the siege of Antioch, displayed what he
had fabricated, although others had seen through it for some time,
and did not hide his intention to gain money. He behaved well there,
and was very useful in instructing the Lord's army. He wished to
emulate God, but he did not do this the way a wise man would. He was
so outstanding that after the capture of Jerusalem he was made abbot
of the church of the blessed Mary in the vale of Josaphat,[167] and
later was made archbishop of Caesarea, metropolis of Palestine. It
is an indubitable fact that had the solace of the divine Word not
been administered with great frequency to them, their patient
perseverance would never have survived the hunger and hardships of
war. Therefore we may say that those among them who were circumspect
in their lives and endowed with wisdom were not less but more
valuable than those who fought the enemy in hand-to-hand combat. He
who provides encouragement that strengthens a wavering mind certainly
is greater than the person to whom his exhortation provides strength,
especially when the advisers and the advisees share the same
suffering.
What shall I say finally about those who, on this same expedition,
were sanctified in various places by becoming martyrs? They were not
only priests, learned men, but warriors, and ordinary people, who had
had no hope of confession, but were called to this glorious fate. We
have heard of many who, captured by the pagans and ordered to deny
the sacraments of faith, preferred to expose their heads to the sword
than to betray the Christian faith in which they had once been
instructed. Among them I shall select one, a knight and an
aristocrat, but more illustrious for his character than all others of
his family or social class I have ever known. From the time he was a
child I knew him, and I watched his fine disposition develop.
Moreover, he and I came from the same region, and his parents held
benefices from my parents, and owed them homage, and we grew up
together, and his whole life and development were an open book to me.
Although he was already an outstanding knight, he was a singularly
expert warrior, but entirely free from sexual vice. He was
well-known at the court of Alexis, the emperor of Constantinople, for
he often traveled in his service. To consider his manner of living:
although he had been blessed with wealth by fortune, he was
considered to be unusually generous in giving alms; he attended
divine services so regularly that he seemed to lead a life more like
that of a bishop than a knight. When I recall his steadfast prayer,
his pious words, and his generosity in giving gifts, I am extremely
pleased with his holy purpose, but also with my own good fortune in
having known him. I witnessed him perform acts that entitled him to
nothing less than a martyr's death. I certainly take pride, as all
those who were able to know him may take pride, in having known him,
since I do not presume to say that I was his friend. Whoever saw him
knew without a doubt that he had seen martyr. Captured by the pagans,
who demanded that he renounce the Christian faith, he asked these
unbelievers to delay until the sixth day of the week. They readily
agreed, thinking that his stubbornness would be altered, and when the
day arrived, and the Gentiles in their madness pressed him to agree
to their demand, he is reported to have said, "If you think that I
have put off the sword hanging above my head because I wanted to
enjoy a few more days alive, and not because I wanted to die on the
day on which my Lord Jesus Christ was crucified, then it is fitting
that I give evidence of how a Christian mind thinks. Get up, then,
and kill me for the example that you want, so that I may restore my
soul to him for whom I die, who on this day gave his own life for
mankind." Having said this, he stretched his neck out to the sword
that hung over him, and when his head was cut off, he was carried to
God, whose death he had longed to imitate. His name was Matthew, as
his name indicates, "given to God."