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In March of 1095, Pope Urban II completed a tour of France and Italy by holding council in Piacenza in Lombardy. Here, ambassadors from the Byzantine Emperor Alexis Komnenos appealed to the Pope for western military aid. The Seljuk Turks had seized control of most of Anatolia and were on the doorstep of Constantinople.
It's hard to discern precisely what Alexius hoped to gain from his appeal to the Pope. Alexius's daughter, Anna Kamnena, in her chronicle, *The Alexiad*, says nothing about her father requesting aid from the West and instead treats the First Crusade as a spontaneous movement initiated by the Latins. However, Anna wrote in the mid-12th century, and she may have purposely tried to distance her father from Latin policy. It's possible that the delegation at Piacenza was there more on routine, as part of the Emperor's ongoing efforts to recruit Latin warriors into his service. But it's also possible that Alexius meant to take advantage of western military resources in a large and serious push against the Seljuks.
The Council of Piacenza is often viewed as the moment when Pope Urban decided to launch the First Crusade. However, Jonathan Riley-Smith points out that the idea of a military expedition sent to aid Byzantium had likely been developing in the Pope's mind for years. A highly learned, broad-minded individual, Pope Urban recognized the historical ties binding Rome and Constantinople and throughout his papacy strove to bring the two closer together. One of his first acts as Pope was to lift the Latin Church's excommunication on Alexius. At the Council of Melfi in 1089, he established friendly correspondence with both the Byzantine Emperor and the Patriarch of Constantinople. Relations between the Latin and Greek Churches warmed.
Piacenza also was not the first time the Byzantine Emperor had appealed to Latin Christendom for martial support. Only a few years earlier, Alexius had asked the Pope to send troops to fight the Pechenegs in the Balkans. As mentioned earlier, Alexius himself was no stranger to working with Latin Christians. In 1086, Alexius had met with Robert I, Count of Flanders, who was coming back from pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Alexius had shown Robert much hospitality, and the two even embarked together on a campaign against the Seljuks. Constantinople had a sizable population of Western Europeans, with the Emperor's own bodyguard, the Varangians, made up of elite Scandinavian warriors.
Pope Urban II recognized how a serious response to this appeal was the natural next step in the papacy's drive to assert its spiritual authority in the wake of the Investiture Controversy. Following Pope Gregory VII's expulsion from Rome in 1084 as a result of his conflict with the Holy Roman Emperor, the papacy had been in a weakened state. Now, at Piacenza, Urban vividly exercised papal power, as historian Christopher Tyerman says, "sitting in judgment on the state of the church and the morals of the clergy and debating the sins of emperors and kings," specifically the conduct of Henry IV of Germany and the adultery of Philip I of France. A call to aid the Greeks against the Seljuk Turks would be yet another confident demonstration of papal strength.
After the Council of Piacenza in March 1095, Pope Urban II began planning the expedition that would be known to history as the First Crusade. He made an elaborate tour of France, the first Pope to do so in half a century, which was to culminate in the Council of Clermont in November, to be attended by 13 archbishops, 82 bishops, and a large number of abbots and other clergymen. These church leaders would hail from the Anglo-Norman realms in the north to northern Austria in the east to Italy in the south. The Pope's tour covered the bulk of southern, central, western, and southeastern France. Each stop featured mass assemblies and preaching, all designed to convey the gravity of the event. Urban avoided areas under the direct control of the King of France, who was to be excommunicated at Clermont for adultery. Everywhere the Pope went, there was great excitement over his presence.
There is strong evidence to indicate that prior to the Council of Clermont, the Pope met with Raymond IV, Count of Toulouse, one of the wealthiest lords in all of Europe. Raymond had campaigned in the Iberian Peninsula alongside Alfonso VI of León and Castile, who had granted Raymond his daughter Elvira in marriage. Deeply pious and experienced in the wars against the Moors in Spain, Raymond was a natural ally to the Pope in his plans for a military campaign against the Seljuks in the East. Raymond himself likely knew the details of Urban's plan before Clermont and probably also committed to involve himself in the cause during his private talks with the Pope. The Pope also met with an important bishop of Raymond's domains, Adhemar of Le Puy, who was designated spiritual head of the Crusade. Additionally, the Pope consulted the Bishop of Cahors, the Archbishop of León, and the Abbot of Cluny, as well as the cardinals and Italian clergymen traveling with him, one of whom was Daiger, Archbishop of Pisa, destined to be elected Patriarch of Jerusalem in 1099. Clergymen were asked to encourage the local knights and nobility to travel to Clermont for the council in November. There is even a long-running legend that the first crusader vows were made in October at a meeting in Burgundy.
In examining Pope Urban's planning and travels throughout 1095, leading up to the Council of Clermont, it's clear that the Pope had a meticulous plan in mind that had been in development for much of his papacy. In some ways, the idea was forming long before Urban's election as Pope. The Popes had been concerned about the disintegration of Christendom's eastern frontier for some time. In 1074, news of westward Turkish incursions had caused Pope Gregory VII to propose leading personally an army of some 50,000 Christians to, quote, "liberate their brothers in the East." Urban's goal was far more ambitious: to mobilize the resources of Christendom's military class under the command of important rulers like Raymond IV of Toulouse, with the intent of bringing support to the Byzantines and liberating Jerusalem. Even before 1095, many of Europe's major noblemen and clergymen were already aware of the plan. Now, all that was left was to make the major announcement in the fall at Clermont.
Pope Urban II's tour of France in 1095 culminated with the Council of Clermont, which began on November 18. Most of the high-ranking attendees were churchmen, abbots, and bishops. The council dealt with an array of ecclesiastical issues: church organization, celibacy, lay investiture, as well as the excommunication of King Philip I of France for refusing to maintain his relationship with his queen and openly keeping a mistress. In her place, finally, it was announced that on Tuesday, November 27, the Pope would address the public to make a great announcement. A crowd gathered in response, so large that it could not be hosted within the cathedral. A platform was raised on the field before the city gate. Here, Urban made his speech.
Five versions of the Pope's speech survive to this day. While they are not identical, they agree for the most part on the ideas expressed by the Pope. In essence, he called on the knights of Europe to engage in a war of liberation. Eastern Christians were abused and humiliated by the Seljuk Turks, and it was the Christian duty of their western brethren to help them, regardless of the costs involved. Constantinople was emphasized as the rallying point for the western forces, with the idea that the Crusade would join forces with Emperor Alexius and aid him in repulsing the Turks and winning back his territory. But Alexius was not the only lord Urban encouraged the knights to help. Christ himself was to be given aid by this expedition. The Pope highlighted Jerusalem and the Holy Land as the inheritance of Christ on Earth and urged western Christians to win back territory that lawfully belonged to him. In this way, Urban, born of the knightly class himself, spoke to the European nobility in terms that were deeply meaningful to them as soldiers of Christ. It was their duty to fight for his lands, just as a vassal must fight to defend the lands of his feudal lord.
Jerusalem had long been an object of veneration and pilgrimage for western Christians. In a society that prized relics, the Holy Sepulchre, the site of Christ's death and resurrection, was the ultimate relic for medieval Latins. Contact with the Holy Sepulchre provided a means of powerful connectedness to Christ. The most sacred site on Earth, the Pope proclaimed, must not remain in the hands of infidels; it must be procured by Christians so that it could receive due honor. Pope Urban must have been a remarkable speaker. His words moved the masses gathered at Clermont, and soon the air was filled with men shouting, "Deus vult!" (God wills it!). Adhemar, the Bishop of Le Puy, came forward and became the first man to receive the cross, that is, take the pledge to go on Crusade, and many others followed his example.
One of our most important eyewitness accounts of the First Crusade is the *Gesta Francorum*, written anonymously by a follower of Bohemond of Taranto, possibly a knight. The author of the *Gesta* was not present at the Council of Clermont, but he opens his chronicle with an account of the Pope's speech, which he must have compiled from the oral accounts of other crusaders who had heard the Pope's words. This version of Urban's speech is quite interesting because it gives us an idea of how the Pope's call to Crusade was perceived by a fairly ordinary participant. The *Gesta* records the Pope's words as follows: "Whoever wishes to save his soul should not hesitate humbly to take up the way of the Lord, and if he lacks sufficient money, divine mercy will give him enough. Brethren, we ought to endure much suffering for the name of Christ: misery, poverty, nakedness, persecution, want, illness, hunger, thirst, and other ills of this kind, just as the Lord saith to his disciples, 'Ye must suffer much in my name and be not ashamed to confess me before the faces of men.' Verily, I will give you mouth and wisdom, and finally, great is your reward in heaven."
The *Gesta* version emphasizes the sacrificial aspect of the Crusade, the idea that it was a great trial undertaken out of devotion to Christ and a desire to gain heaven. This flies in the face of the incorrect idea held by some that most crusaders were motivated out of material greed and not out of spirituality. In fact, the deep spiritual motivations behind the First Crusade are evident everywhere in the primary sources we possess. If the *Gesta* was indeed written by an ordinary soldier or knight, it's a fascinating glimpse into the religious convictions of such a person.
Another important eyewitness chronicler of the First Crusade was Fulcher of Chartres, a priest who served as chaplain to Baldwin of Boulogne and lived out his days in the early Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem. Fulcher, who also offers an account of Pope Urban's speech, emphasizes the Crusade as an act of love performed by Westerners to aid Eastern Christians suffering under Seljuk rule. "For your brethren who live in the East are in urgent need of your help, and you must hasten to give them aid, which has often been promised them. For as most of you have heard, the Turks and Arabs have attacked them and have conquered the territory of Romania as far west as the shore of the Mediterranean and the Hellespont, which is called the Arm of Saint George. They have occupied more and more of the lands of those Christians and have overcome them in seven battles. They have killed and captured many and have destroyed the churches and devastated the empire. If you permit them to continue, the faithful of God will be much more widely attacked by them. On this account, I, or rather the Lord, beseech you as Christ's heralds to publish this everywhere and to persuade all people of whatever rank, foot soldiers and knights, poor and rich, to carry aid promptly to those Christians. I say this to those who are present; it is meant also for those who are absent. Moreover, Christ commands it."
Fulcher's account also includes the plenary indulgence promised by the Pope to crusaders: "All who die by the way, whether by land or by sea, or in battle against the pagans, shall have immediate remission of sins."
Pope Urban II's Crusade was carefully organized, and he expected participants to adhere to his instructions. Potential crusaders were to get approval from their local clergy, and they were to join one of the armies led by a great lord, such as Raymond IV of Toulouse or Godfrey of Bouillon, who had received the cross from Urban's preachers. But not everyone obeyed the Pope's commands. Some bands of renegade crusaders, mostly made up of the desperately poor, struck out on their own wild, lawless excursions.
In the spring and summer of 1096, armies from northern France, southern France, Italy, and the Holy Roman Empire were busy preparing to depart for the East in response to Pope Urban's appeal. But some of Europe's poor rejected the idea of following a great lord or submitting to the Pope's terms and schedule. Thomas Madden summarizes it well: "Too many, the extensive preparations of the church and the nobility for the crusade seemed not only superfluous but also faithless. If Christ's soldiers marched to the Holy Land, would he not scatter the infidel Turks as he had the Philistines long ago?"
One man in particular advocated this view: Peter the Hermit, a ragged holy man who rode from town to town on a donkey, mesmerizing crowds with his fiery preaching. Contrary to popular belief, Peter the Hermit was most likely not asked to preach the Crusade by Pope Urban. Thomas Asbridge states that Peter was "most likely not endorsed by the papacy." Peter's preaching seemed to have something divine about it, though Guibert of Nogent, a chronicler of the First Crusade, would not report this as true and attributed this reputation to "the common people, who love novelties." Although Peter attracted large throngs of peasants into his company, Jonathan Riley-Smith points out that "we should not believe that these forces consisted only of peasants; there were some knights among them, some of whom ended up eventually joining the military elite of the crusader states." But nevertheless, Thomas Asbridge says that the People's Crusade was a "largely uncontrollable, ramshackle horde."
By the time he left France in April 1096 and headed to Cologne, a considerable train of disciples trailed Peter, and in Germany as well, he attracted even more. While the real Crusade still prepared, Peter's horde drifted eastward, poorly provisioned and short on cash. The crusaders quickly turned hungry; pillaging was common as they crossed into the Byzantine Empire. The Byzantine Emperor Alexius Comnenus was shocked when he heard reports of this mob descending upon his lands. At once, he arranged for them to be supplied with provisions to put an end to their thieving.
When Peter arrived in Constantinople, he met another Westerner who had traveled east with a motley following: Walter Sansevoir, a minor but experienced knight. Like Peter's group, Walter's throngs, which included only eight knights, had plundered on their way, coming to blows with the forces of King Coloman of Hungary. Both were interviewed by Alexius, who was, according to Thomas Madden, impressed by Peter's abilities as an orator. Alexius convinced Peter and Walter that they should await the arrival of the papally sanctioned crusader forces. But the peasant armies were not convinced. Despite the protests of Peter and Walter, the People's Army crossed the Bosphorus on August 6, entering Turkish territory. The People's Army was without a plan and without means of fighting. Peter returned to Constantinople to try to gain additional aid from Alexius. Meanwhile, in Asia Minor, Kilij Arslan, the Seljuk Sultan of Rum, dispatched forces to intercept the peasant's army. Walter himself fell in the slaughter. Back in Constantinople, Peter received word of what had happened and settled in to await the arrival of the true crusader armies.
The People's Crusade is a bizarre and tragic incident. It cannot be considered a part of the First Crusade proper, since it was conducted outside of the papally sanctioned expedition. In his speech at Clermont, Pope Urban had emphasized that the poor and inexperienced should not be participating in his Crusade. In essence, the People's Crusade was everything Pope Urban had sought to avoid. Fortunately, his careful planning did ensure that the Crusade proper was free of the chaos surrounding the People's Crusade.
The main armies of the First Crusade mobilized between December 1095 and August of 1096, adhering to the schedule laid out by Pope Urban II. The Pope's directives called for the crusaders to make their way toward the Byzantine capital of Constantinople, where they would unite under the leadership of Emperor Alexius Comnenus, who would then guide them in a campaign of reconquest against the Seljuk Turkish rulers of the Levant.
First to depart in August was the brother of King Philip I of France, Hugh, the first Count of Vermandois, leading a small army provided both by himself and by his brother, the King. Sailing from Italy, Hugh's fleet foundered on the Dalmatian coast, and the Count had to be rescued by Byzantine officials, who brought him to Constantinople to meet Emperor Alexius.
Toward the end of August departed Godfrey of Bouillon, Duke of Lower Lorraine. In later centuries, Godfrey would become the central figure in the mythology of the First Crusade, idealized as the perfect Christian knight. However, prior to taking the cross, he had been at odds with the papacy. A vassal to Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV, he'd even participated in the siege of Rome which drove out Pope Gregory VII in 1084. The fact that Godfrey answered the call to the cross demonstrates the power of Pope Urban's message, but also alludes to the complexity of late 11th-century politics. Was Godfrey's opposition to the Pope at any time any deeper than loyalty to his own lord? William of Tyre tells us that Godfrey was tall, powerful, and built with a beard and hair of blonde. In a charter struck before his departure, Godfrey's mother said he was "preparing to fight for God in Jerusalem."
Godfrey was joined on the Crusade by his older brother Eustace III, Count of Boulogne, and their younger brother Baldwin of Boulogne. Dark-haired and taller than his brothers, Baldwin had originally been destined for the church, but his love of the knightly lifestyle prompted him to change careers before ordination. However, he'd received the literary education common to clerics at the time, and all his life had an intellectual bent to his personality. Jonathan Riley-Smith says he was an "intelligent, calculating, and ruthless man." He was not pleasant, but his strength of personality and quickness of mind were to be of great value to the crusaders. Without any lands or wealth of his own, Baldwin took service as one of Godfrey's high-ranking knights, but he had his heart set on winning a lordship of his own. With a considerable army of Walloon and Lotharingian knights behind him, Godfrey marched through Germany. His men passed in perfect peace and order through Hungary, where King Coloman was understandably nervous after the antics of the People's Crusade. By December, Godfrey came within sight of Constantinople and laid down camp outside the city, near the head of the Golden Horn.
Bohemond of Taranto was the most experienced military commander of the First Crusade. His martial skills had been honed in the Norman wars against the Byzantines. A hugely tall, powerfully built man, Bohemond is described by Anna Komnene as "perfectly proportioned, with a hard, savage quality to his whole aspect, and that even his laugh sounded like a threat." In 1097, Bohemond was in the process of besieging Amalfi, which had rebelled against his uncle, Count Roger I of Sicily, when he encountered crusaders on their way to the East. Bohemond, whose family was closely allied to Pope Urban II, was so impressed by these men that he at once took the cross himself, gathering around him a small but powerful force of Norman warriors and set out for Constantinople.
Meanwhile, Godfrey of Bouillon was camped outside of the Byzantine capital with his men. Although Pope Urban had insisted that the crusaders would find Emperor Alexius a trustworthy ally eager to join them in the fight against the Turks, Godfrey knew that Hugh of Armagnac was being held a virtual prisoner inside of Constantinople and was hesitant to put himself in the Emperor's power by entering the royal palace. But Alexius refused to allow Godfrey to cross the Bosphorus until he'd come before him to swear loyalty. There were a few tense moments, but Alexius finally agreed to provide hostages to the crusaders while Godfrey entered the palace. Godfrey's chronicler, Albert of Aachen, says that Alexius declared Godfrey "an adopted son." Godfrey swore loyalty to the Emperor, and the Emperor promised to provide aid to the crusaders. By January 20 of 1097, Godfrey's army crossed the Bosphorus.
Bohemond showed up at Constantinople in April. Anna Komnene tells us that Alexius was deeply anxious about Bohemond's presence, since in the past the Italian Normans had invaded Byzantine lands. But Bohemond, conducting himself with perfect courtly decorum, presented himself as utterly loyal to Alexius, gladly swearing fealty to him, an oath which Alexius did not believe the Norman intended to keep. The Emperor was convinced that Bohemond meant to use the Crusades as some kind of opportunity to conquer Byzantine lands.
About the same time that Bohemond appeared at Constantinople, Robert II, Count of Flanders, a man of considerable military prowess and piety, arrived with his army. A charter of Count Robert states that he was going to Jerusalem "on the authority of the Apostolic See to liberate the church of God, which had been trampled underfoot by savage peoples for a long time." His Flemish warriors would prove to be a valuable asset in the course of the Crusade.
Next to arrive in Constantinople was Raymond IV, Count of Toulouse, with his large, splendidly equipped southern French army, as well as the papal legate, Bishop Adhemar of Le Puy. Raymond met with Alexius in April. According to Anna Komnene, the Emperor had a deep affection for Raymond and was impressed by the Count's superior intellect, his untarnished reputation, the purity of his life. Anna says that Alexius and Raymond engaged in long discussion with one another, and that the Emperor "unreservedly opened the doors of his soul to the Count." Already enormously wealthy, Thomas Madden says that Raymond had decided to finish his life in the service of God. Having personally discussed the Crusade with Pope Urban, Raymond was keen to see Alexius commit himself as fully to the cause as the western princes. Raymond's chronicler and chaplain says that when Alexius asked Raymond to take an oath of loyalty to him, Raymond responded that he would gladly do so if Alexius would also take the cross and lead his army to the liberation of the Holy Land. Alexius insisted that he wanted very much to do so, but that he could not leave Constantinople at this time. Pope Urban's entire project had been predicated on the idea that eastern and western Christianity would be gloriously united in brotherly bonds against the Saracens. Anna Komnene says her father would have loved to join in the war against the Turks, but that he feared the Latins would betray him. To compensate, Alexius promised to supply the crusaders with provisions, troops, and guides. Raymond, unwilling to bend on this issue, would not swear an oath of loyalty to Alexius, but instead took an oath simply to respect Alexius's territories. The Emperor was satisfied with this and permitted Raymond to cross the Bosphorus and join Godfrey and Bohemond for the advance on Nicaea.
The final Latin army to arrive in Constantinople was that of the northern French, led by William the Conqueror's eldest son, Robert Curthose, Duke of Normandy, and his brother-in-law, Stephen II, Count of Blois. Curthose and Stephen were warmly received by Alexius and were much impressed by his wealth and generosity. They eagerly swore loyalty to him, then continued on their way to complete the crusader army besieging Nicaea.
On May 6, 1097, the armies of the First Crusade reached Nicaea, an ancient city on the northwestern edge of Asia Minor, situated on the eastern shore of the Ascanius Lake. It's only a short journey from Constantinople, opposite the Bosphorus, and is the gateway to Anatolia from the West. Currently, Nicaea was in the hands of the Seljuk Turks, acting as the capital of the Sultanate of Rum. The reduction of Nicaea would open the way for the crusaders' long journey to the Holy Sepulchre and allow the Byzantines to establish a base in Asia Minor from which further reconquests could be made in the region.
The *Gesta Francorum*, written by one of Bohemond's men, says that "on the day of the Ascension of the Lord, we began to attack the city on all sides and to construct machines of wood and wooden towers with which we might be able to destroy towers on the walls." Kilij Arslan, the Sultan of Rum, was campaigning on his eastern frontier when he heard reports of the crusader army besieging his capital. Assembling his forces, he marched on Nicaea. On May 21, Arslan moved up from the south and immediately launched an attack meant to break the siege. The army of Raymond of Toulouse bore the brunt of the assault, but the crusaders handled the situation well, maintaining their blockade of the city while also dispatching troops to engage the Turks. A decisive cavalry charge led by Godfrey and Bohemond smashed the Turkish forces, sending Kilij Arslan into full retreat.
"So the Celts won a glorious victory," wrote Emperor Alexius's daughter, Princess Anna, using her favorite term for Westerners. The *Gesta* says, "Our men hurled the heads of the killed far into the city that the Turks might be more terrified." There, abandoned by Kilij Arslan, the Turks of Nicaea sent messengers to Alexius, offering to surrender. The Emperor sent his agents into Nicaea to negotiate the transfer of the city to Byzantine power. On June 18, Alexius excluded the crusaders from this process, but afterwards, according to Fulcher of Chartres, the Emperor "ordered gifts to be presented to our leaders, gifts of gold and silver and raiment, and to the foot soldiers he distributed copper coins." Historian Thomas Asbridge says that the siege of Nicaea was a "largely collaborative venture in which Latins and Greeks cooperated effectively, and the crusaders willingly fought for the Byzantine Empire."
Nicaea, restored to Christian rule, the way was open for the crusaders to make the long march east across Asia Minor. To act as advisers to the Franks, Alexius assigned a small Byzantine contingent led by Tatikios, an experienced half-Arab, half-Greek general who had lost his nose in an earlier battle and wore a gold prosthetic in its place. Although this was not the large-scale support the Franks had wanted from Alexius, they were undeterred and by June 29 were on the move.
Having captured Nicaea, the crusaders began a long march eastward across the vast, sun-scorched territory of Anatolia. It was summer in Asia Minor, and the heat was brutal and unrelenting. Worse still, the Sultan Kilij Arslan had ravaged the territory, burning crops and spoiling water sources in hopes of halting the crusaders' advance. To reduce supply problems, the Latin princes divided their armies, with the first body led by the Normans Bohemond and Robert Curthose, and the second marching a day behind under Raymond of Toulouse and Godfrey of Bouillon.
During the march, Bohemond's spies informed him that Kilij Arslan lay ahead with his army, preparing an ambush. On the evening of June 30, as his forces approached the ruined Byzantine town of Dorylaeum, Bohemond ordered the infantry to pitch a defensive camp at a stream and organized his cavalry for battle. On the morning of July 1, Kilij Arslan struck, but Bohemond was ready. Swarms of Turkish horsemen descended upon the Christian camp. Bohemond and Robert Curthose made several charges, but the light, swift Turkish cavalry eluded them, wheeling away when attacked, then sweeping back in to harass the crusaders with arrows. Things quickly went bad for the Christians; they were losing men and horses, and even the unarmed pilgrims hunkered down in the camp were being killed.
A lesser commander might have panicked, but Bohemond reacted instantly and effectively. He immediately changed tactics, ordering his knights to dismount and stand with the infantry in a tight shield wall encircling the camp, allowing them to protect the horses, supplies, and pilgrims inside. This worked. Suddenly, the Turks had to move in nearer to harass the crusaders, who held their ground and began to kill Turks venturing too close. For several hours, the crusader knights and foot soldiers stood side by side in this cramped formation, unbreakable before the increasingly desperate Turkish assaults. The heat was intense; the air choked with dust. Women in the camp trudged back and forth from the stream, carrying buckets of water to the men on the lines.
This deadlock was broken with the arrival of the second crusader army. Caught unawares, Kilij Arslan had no time to react. Godfrey and Raymond led their cavalries in a charge that scattered the Turks. Kilij Arslan's army retreated. "The crusaders had won a great victory, though narrowly," wrote Emperor Alexius's daughter, Princess Anna. The *Gesta* says, "Our men hurled the heads of the killed far into the city that the Turks might be more terrified."
The battle of Dorylaeum demonstrated Bohemond's top-notch capabilities as a general. For one, he'd known that the enemy attack was coming and chose a well-watered site for camp. Finally, at a desperate moment, he had organized his troops in such a way that allowed them to hold until reinforcements arrived. The victory also demonstrated the effectiveness of the Frankish cavalry charge, well executed by Raymond and Godfrey. But the Seljuk Turks had also performed quite well, and their swift, harassing tactics had proven very effective despite the ultimate results of the battle. The Turks left behind the whole of their camp, filled with gold and silks, horses and weapons, which the crusaders immediately seized. Kilij Arslan abandoned his city of Iconium and retreated deep into the interior of Anatolia, hoping now to avoid the Christians as they moved across Asia Minor.
After they subdued the Seljuk Sultan of Rum, the armies of the First Crusade spent four months journeying across the rest of Anatolia. They dispatched two small reconnaissance forces ahead of them: one under Godfrey of Bouillon's younger brother, Baldwin of Boulogne, and another under Bohemond's nephew, Tancred. Baldwin and Tancred established contacts in Cilicia with local Armenians. This helped to secure a safe route through the mountainous territory on the northern approach to Syria. Baldwin of Boulogne rejoined the main army in Marash in October 1097. He found his wife, Godvera, seriously ill. She died before the month's end. Whether or not Baldwin grieved, he was composed enough to approach his brother Godfrey about a new project. Baldwin had learned from his Armenian contacts that there were Christian cities in Mesopotamia eager for a strong lord to protect them from the Turks. Godfrey agreed with his brother's plan to establish a Frankish state in Mesopotamia, which would provide a reliable source of supplies for the crusaders during their coming campaign in Syria.
With Godfrey's blessing, Baldwin departed the main army with a small battalion of knights. Since he had given up his studies for the priesthood, Baldwin had served as his brother's knight, but he had larger ambitions and now seemed poised to achieve them. On entering Mesopotamia, he quickly captured the Turkish-held towns of Ravendel and Turbesil. Baldwin's success attracted the notice of Thoros, Armenian lord of Edessa, who feared a coup from his subjects since he could not protect the city from raids by his Turkish neighbor, Baldric of Samosata. Thoros offered Baldwin an alliance, and Baldwin gladly accepted. In February 1098, Baldwin crossed the Euphrates and entered Edessa to cheering crowds of Armenians. By now, Baldwin was reputed as a victorious leader, and the locals were eager for a champion. So enthusiastically was Baldwin welcomed that Thoros decided to make him his adopted son. In a strange ritual, Baldwin and Thoros stripped to the waist and embraced one another publicly, while a long shirt was placed over them both to seal their new status as father and son.
Baldwin next set out with his men to neutralize the threat of Baldric of Samosata. He established a castle near to Samosata, which could check any Turkish raids on his return to Edessa. Baldwin discovered that a group of Armenian noblemen were plotting to kill Thoros and elevate Baldwin as sole ruler. Baldwin appears to have been unwilling to prevent this plot from going through and was very likely at least passively complicit in it. Thoros was seized by a mob of Odessans, who stabbed him to death in the streets. Baldwin of Boulogne now ruled a powerful state centered around Edessa. He had risen to power through martial prowess and ruthless political intrigue, but he would prove to be the strong leader the Odessans desired, making their city powerful again and neutralizing the threat of neighboring Turks. Soon he captured Samosata, and his new state, the County of Edessa, would straddle the Euphrates for half a century. Baldwin established close bonds with the Armenians, marrying an Armenian woman and employing Armenians as knights, governors, and advisors.
In the late summer of 1097, the crusaders entered northern Syria, making their way toward the ancient city of Antioch, secured by massive curtain walls set with 400 towers. Antioch was considered impregnable. Overwhelmingly, Antioch was populated by Christians: Armenians, Greeks, and Syrians. The Arab chronicler Ibn al-Athir says that Yaghi-Siyan, the city's Turkish governor, worried when he heard of the approaching Frankish army that Antioch's Christians would side with their co-religionists. So he sent the Christian men outside of the city wall to dig a moat. They labored on until the evening, but when they wished to enter the city, Yaghi-Siyan prevented them and said, "You can leave me Antioch until I see how things will be with us and the Franks."
It was October 1097 when the vanguard of the crusader army arrived before Antioch. The anonymous author of the *Gesta Francorum*, who was a follower of Bohemond, writes that "we established a strict blockade on three gates of the city, for we could not besiege it from the other side because a mountain, high and very steep, stood in our way." Indeed, the crusaders concentrated their efforts on the northwestern quarter of the city, which gave them access to the Iron Bridge and the river. Bohemond placed his army before the Saint Paul Gate. The northern French under Robert Curthose, Robert of Flanders, Hugh of Vermandois, and Stephen of Blois covered the section of wall just anti-clockwise of Bohemond's. Raymond of Toulouse and the southern French blockaded the Dog Gate, while Godfrey of Bouillon's Lotharingians and Germans covered the Gate of the Duke. Tatikios and the Byzantines camped some distance away from the walls, presumably to act in support of the Franks. You can see from this diagram how much of Antioch could not be blockaded, including the wall running up into the forested Mount Silpius to the east and the portion of the wall that hugged the river on the southern end.
In the opening months of the siege, the crusaders sparred with the Turks on the walls. Fulcher of Chartres says that the crusaders found a number of boats in the Orontes River. These they took and fashioned into a pontoon bridge, over which they crossed to carry out their plans. This bridge of boats was strategically crucial, since it allowed the crusaders to quickly access the plain southwest of Antioch, which the Turks initially used as a staging ground for armed sorties from the city. The Frankish leaders also dispatched squadrons into the surrounding countryside to take control of the nearby castles, such as Harim, for the purpose of denying Yaghi-Siyan control of Antioch's territory.
By mid-November, winter cold was setting in, and the crusaders had to send foraging expeditions farther and farther from the city in search of food. "Now grain and all food began to be excessively dear," before the birthday of the Lord, says the *Gesta Francorum*. Cold and hungry, the crusaders celebrated Christmas in their damp, ramshackle camp, seeking sustenance in their faith and in the thought that beyond Antioch lay the object of their longing: the Holy City of Jerusalem.
Three days after Christmas, Bohemond himself, along with Count Robert of Flanders, led a small force of knights into Antioch's hinterland in search of provisions. During their journey, the foragers were surprised by a Turkish army sent from Damascus to relieve Antioch. The Turks instantly fell upon the crusaders, but Bohemond and the Count of Flanders quickly organized their men into a solid defensive formation, while the Count of Flanders led a direct attack on the Turkish cavalry. Bohemond moved his Normans into a flanking position that prevented the Turks from surrounding Count Robert's knights. In the confusion of the battle, the Turks retreated. Although Bohemond lost a sizable amount of men, he did manage to prevent the Turkish force from bringing aid to Antioch. Unfortunately for the crusaders, Bohemond and his foragers managed to secure only modest provisions.
As the year came to a close, the crusaders had made little progress in the siege of Antioch and remained huddled outside the massive city walls with little hope of ever breaking through them. The first months of 1098 were cold and miserable in the crusader camp before the walls of Antioch. Food was scarce, illness common, and little progress had been made in reducing the enormous, ancient city on the Orontes. Desertions from the army's rank and file became a problem. Even Peter the Hermit and William the Carpenter, the former leaders of the People's Crusade, snuck away and tried to flee in the night, but they were caught by Bohemond's nephew, Tancred, who dragged them back to his uncle's tent to face the wrath of the giant Norman. "Almost evil of all whom the earth endures, why did you so vilely flee? Was it perchance for the reason that you wish to betray these knights and the host of Christ?" Peter and William begged Bohemond to be merciful, and ultimately he did pardon them.
But a far more serious desertion occurred by the end of January, when the Byzantine general Tatikios departed with the Greek contingent. Tatikios insisted that he only meant to retrieve supplies, after which he would return to Antioch. Few crusaders believed him. In February, a Turkish army led by Ridwan of Aleppo moved toward Antioch via the Iron Bridge. Bohemond led a contingent against them, and through a brilliantly timed cavalry charge, defeated them. The victory boosted crusader morale, and with the arrival of spring warmth, an English fleet appeared off the coast of Saint Simeon, carrying much-needed provisions and supplies. Also, lavish gifts of horses and weapons arrived from Edessa, now a Latin state under Godfrey's brother, Baldwin.
Throughout the siege, Bohemond, who spoke fluent Greek, had made it a point to personally patrol the walls of Antioch. He often conversed with guards on the towers, and by April, he had established contact with John the Armenian, a convert to Islam. According to the Muslim chronicler Ibn al-Kalanisi, Faruz nurtured a grudge against Yaghi-Siyan, the Turkish governor of Antioch, because of "some ill usage and confiscations which he had suffered at his hands." Bohemond cultivated his relationship with Faruz, exploiting the Armenian's anger toward Yaghi-Siyan, promising him rich rewards. Eventually, Faruz agreed to betray his tower to the crusaders, and he and Bohemond began to secretly arrange a plan.
Meanwhile, reports began to reach the Christian camp of an enormous Turkish army led by one Kerbogha, the Atabeg of Mosul, advancing now to relieve Antioch. News of Kerbogha's approach spread dread among the crusader forces. Finally, after languishing all winter outside Antioch, were they to be smashed against the walls by Kerbogha's army? Fulcher of Chartres recounts how one of the Christian army's primary Latin leaders was so disturbed that he withdrew from the siege. "Then Stephen, Count of Blois, left the siege and went home to France by sea. We all grieved on his account because he was a very noble man." Although Stephen was among the wealthiest of the Crusade's leaders, he had little talent for military matters. His flight from Antioch would in time prove to be an unbearable disgrace on his name.
As pressure mounted in the Latin camp, Bohemond prepared to set his trap. Ever driven by personal ambition, he kept his alliance with Faruz secret and sought to arrange things so that Antioch would be his and his alone. Bohemond came to all the leaders bearing joyful words to them in this wise: "Men, most illustrious knights, see how all of us, whether of greater or lesser degree, are in exceeding poverty and misery, and how utterly ignorant we are from what side we will fare better. Therefore, if it seems good and honorable to you, let one of us put himself ahead of the rest, and if he can acquire or contrive the capture of the city by any plan or scheme by himself or through the help of others, let us with one voice grant him the city as a gift."
The grim, old Count Raymond of Toulouse immediately objected to this, insisting that Antioch belonged to Alexius Comnenus and no other. Bohemond, in his characteristic loud bravado, reminded the council that Alexius's troops had abandoned them and there was no sign that the Emperor intended to help them further in any way. By now, the other leaders had come to trust Bohemond and with good reason. Although the least wealthy of the princes, the Norman's talents had carried the day when all had seemed lost, and thus he had essentially become the leading figure in the council of lords. And by now, everyone understood that Bohemond's personal ambition could always be trusted. Raymond, despite being the richest of the leaders, was outvoted. The other lords agreed to Bohemond's plan. Bohemond dramatically announced that "very shortly Antioch would be Christian again," and with that, departed the council. It's safe to assume that probably all the lords, even Raymond, believed him.
Having secured the loyalty of the Armenian guard Faruz on one of Antioch's towers, Bohemond organized the whole of the Christian army in a ruse to fool the Turkish garrison and gain control of the city. On the afternoon of June 2, a large detachment of crusader infantry and cavalry marched away from Antioch in plain view of the garrison. The Muslim troops on the walls were meant to believe that the crusaders were sending off a substantial foraging expedition and thus they should not expect any major offensives anytime soon. However, under cover of darkness on the night of June 3, the crusaders snuck back toward the city and took up positions in hiding just beyond the walls, awaiting Bohemond's signal.
Byzantine Princess Anna Komnene explains how Bohemond, by sneaking up to the wall below Faruz's tower, sprung his trap. "Bohemond immediately went off to the tower. The Armenian, according to his agreement, opened the gates. Bohemond climbed it once with his followers to the top of the tower as fast as he could." Within minutes, Bohemond and his troops had complete control of Faruz's tower. This allowed Bohemond to dispatch squadrons throughout the city to kill more patrolling guards and open the main city gates. On signal of a trumpet blast from one of Bohemond's knights on Faruz's tower, Godfrey of Bouillon and Robert of Flanders rushed into the city with their troops. There followed a brutal sack, in which crusaders and native Greek and Armenian Christians spread throughout the city, killing the Seljuks and capturing booty. For the Greeks and Armenians, this was a moment of vengeance, in which they vented years of restrained anger at Antioch's occupiers.
Thomas Asbridge explains that "in those crucial first few minutes, the combination of surprise, the confusion of darkness, and fear of the crusaders' unrestrained brutality paralyzed the defenders." Yaghi-Siyan, seeing himself in a panic, fled the city via the Iron Gate, but was thrown from his horse and left for dead by his companions. There, lying bleeding on the ground, the Turkish emir was discovered by some Armenians, decapitating the city's fallen governor. The Armenians took the head to Bohemond, who promptly rewarded them. Bohemond had already raised up his blood-red banner over the city walls, and Raymond of Toulouse occupied the city's lavish Greek palace. By the morning of June 4, it was over. The crusaders had control of the city, with each of the major leaders holding various portions of the walls. Only the citadel on the top of the mountain remained in Muslim hands, barricaded by the last survivors of the garrison. In a desperate last attempt to escape death, Bohemond however had taken a position with his troops just outside the citadel and was intent on wresting it from the last Turkish defenders.
Thus ended the siege of Antioch after eight grueling months. The crusaders had captured the most important city in Syria, and they had done it completely without Byzantine help. Indeed, the Byzantines had withdrawn from the siege. Instead, it was Bohemond's abilities which had delivered Antioch into Christian hands.
Baldwin of Boulogne's capture of Edessa proved helpful to the crusaders in another way as well. On his way to Antioch, the Turkish Atabeg of Mosul, Kerbogha, stopped for three days to besiege Edessa, delaying his progress. When he failed at this task, the Turk continued on, intent on destroying the crusader army camped outside of Antioch. The crusaders had already captured Antioch, and by the time Kerbogha's forces began to arrive before Antioch's walls on June 5, the crusaders had already firmly established themselves within the city. Only the citadel on Mount Silpius remained in Turkish hands, and this Kerbogha bolstered with a garrison of his own. The army Kerbogha commanded was awesome to behold, so large in fact that it could fully blockade the city. Antioch had just been through a month's long siege, and so food was scarce within her powerful walls. Penned in by Kerbogha's troops, the crusaders once again faced the very real prospect of starvation.
Meanwhile, far away in Anatolia, another sizable army was on its way to Antioch, this one Byzantine and headed by Emperor Alexius Comnenus, who had finally elected to bring aid to his beleaguered Latin allies. However, at Philomelium, the Emperor encountered Stephen, Count of Blois, who had fled Antioch just before its fall. Stephen, eager to justify his premature departure from the fight, assured Alexius that the whole Christian army had already been destroyed and thus the cause of the Crusade completely lost. Alexius was perhaps a little too eager to trust Stephen's word and quickly elected to abandon his mission together. The Byzantine Emperor and the Count of Blois picked up and headed back for the safety of Constantinople.
Meanwhile, from the walls of Antioch, the crusaders under the de facto leadership of Bohemond were gazing down at the enormous army of Kerbogha, folding them like the coils of a serpent. It seemed incredible that after their astounding capture of the powerfully fortified city, Christ's warriors should perish all the same within their prize. Naturally, everyone in the army was looking toward Bohemond, the man who time and time again had carried the day for a solution. The Norman giant was weighing.
His options carefully, and already formulating a plan to defeat the mighty Kerboka.
Meanwhile, the desperation of the situation caused many crusaders to pray for a miracle. One southern French priest, called Peter Bartholomew, approached Count Raymond of Toulouse with tales of a vision from Saint Andrew. The saint, Peter insisted, had assured him that buried somewhere beneath Antioch's magnificent Cathedral of Saint Peter was the lance that had been used at Calvary to pierce the side of Christ. If the crusaders found this relic and carried it into battle against Kerb, God would grant them victory.
Although many were skeptical of Peter's story, others were convinced by it. Among them, the pious old Count Ramon, who on June 15, began an excavation beneath the altar of Saint Peter's Cathedral. Peter himself was among those digging in the dirt. At one point, Peter cried out and scrambled out of the hole, holding an old iron shard and shouting that he discovered the precious relic.
News of Peter's discovery exploded throughout the city. A few skeptics remained, such as Bishop Ademar of Le Puy. But for the average rank-and-file soldier, this could be nothing but a sign from God. Considering the gravity of the situation, it was exactly what the crusaders needed. Morale was boosted, and the weary, hungry Christian soldiers were convinced now that they would indeed triumph over Kerbagh's hordes.
Whatever Peter Bartholomew pulled out of the hole in Saint Peter's that day, there can be no doubt of the spiritual impact on the Christian soldiers. It came at the right time as well, for the leaders of the army had decided on a very daring and dangerous strategy: a full-on battle with Kerbal Khan. Troops were numerous in his position, strong, but within the Turkish forces, there were internal divisions between jealous emirs, says historian Thomas Madden, citing the potential fractiousness of Kerbagh's vast coalition army. Nevertheless, the Turkish attabeg seemed poised to capture Antioch and destroy the Christian forces inside.
By late June, Count Ramon of Toulouse was ill, and thus it fell to Bohemond alone to lead the upcoming counter-attack against Kerbolga. In choosing to confront Kerbakat head-on, the crusaders faced several enormous challenges. For one, Gerbaga's army greatly outnumbered them. Also, the Turks had plenty of horses, while the crusaders by now had no more than 200 horses of military quality remaining. The majority of their troops would have to fight on foot.
But Bohemond also understood that the crusaders who had survived up to this point had been hardened into a battle-tested, efficient fighting force. The trials of war had bound them with the brotherhood of soldiers who have long fought shoulder to shoulder. Bohemond's battle plan was astounding, writes historian Thomas Asbridge, its execution exceptional. Bohemond chose the Bridgegate for the selling point, placing the Latins on the western bank of the Orontes, preventing the Turkish troops on the eastern bank from quickly engaging them.
First to emerge from the city was a division of archers under Hugh of Vermandois, which hammered the Turks with arrows, driving back the first line of Muslim troops and opening a space for the remainder of the crusader army to deploy. Bohemond had divided the remainder of the army into five distinct divisions to provide cohesion in the midst of battle. Once the Bridgegate had been cleared, the northern French under Robert of Flanders and Robert of Normandy emerged in column behind Hugh's archers and then maneuvered to his left. Next, Godfrey of Bouillon marched out with his Lotharingians and Germans, followed by Bishop Ademar leading the southern French. Each division fanned out leftwards in a semi-circle, with Bohemond commanding the largest and final contingent, allowing him to bring aid to any portion of the army that came under heavy attack. Thomas Asbridge calls this disposition of the troops the finest expression of Bohemond's military genius.
But despite this well-ordered deployment, had Kerpaga reacted differently, the crusaders might have been crushed as they came out of Antioch. Once he realized that the crusaders were sailing forth from the Bridgegate, Kerbaga had two options: immediately attack with his main force, or wait and meet them in battle on grounds of his own choosing. In that, Kerpaka chose the latter, probably because he did not judge the ragged crusader army to be much of a threat. Had he launched an immediate attack, he could have inflicted heavy losses, but he also would have ended the battle before the Christians were fully deployed. No doubt the bulk of their numbers would have retreated, and many might not have even deployed at all.
Instead, Caribougod chose to allow the Franks to bring the whole of their army out of Antioch, thus giving him the opportunity to crush them completely in one grand stroke. This would allow him to avoid a long siege. But this does not mean the crusaders were able to march unmolested out of Antioch. While Kerbaga's main force held back, the crusaders, as they struggled to get into position before the Bridgegate, were attacked fiercely by the advanced Turkish troops. There was a vicious counter-attack from the Turks who had been guarding the Bridgegate, followed almost instantly by an assault from the Turks sweeping down from positions before the Gate of Saint Paul and the Gate of the Duke. Most pressing of all, Turks positioned before the Gate of Saint George quickly began crossing the river and coming up behind the crusaders for an attack. The Christians were surrounded.
Militarily, this was a near impossible situation to survive. A small infantry-based army, while attempting to deploy out of a narrow gate, was being heavily attacked from all sides by enemy cavalry. At this crucial moment, the crusaders, by now tested in countless battles against the Turks, rose to the challenge. The knight Reinhardt of Tool was dispatched with the contingent of French and Lotharingians, and they met the southeastern attack with such ferocity that the enemy broke in panic. Meanwhile, the main body of the Franks held formation against the onslaught of Turkish arrows, just as they had done at Dorylaeum.
Unbroken by the Turkish onslaught and united as a solid, impenetrable body of infantry, the crusaders now marched forward, fighting with precision and ferocity. Before this powerful counter-attack, the Turkish advance guard utterly broke, turning tail and fleeing. Kirbuka, realizing what was going on, began a rushed, panicked advance and ran right into his own retreating troops. This caused more Turkish units to break off in retreat. Meanwhile, the crusader infantry continued their advance, shattering the Turkish formations with brutal efficiency. It wasn't long before the entire Turkish coalition was in full flight, with Kerbaga himself barely escaping with his life.
It was over. A tiny army of weary, hungry Christian soldiers had utterly shattered an enormous, well-equipped Turkish army within hours. The Turkish troops inside the citadel surrendered to Bohemond, and now the whole of Antioch truly was securely in Christian hands. It was an astounding victory, probably the most important of the First Crusade. Now the way lay open for the march on the ultimate prize: Jerusalem.
Following their defeat of Kerboka, the crusaders controlled a wealthy stretch of territory from Odessa to Antioch and the important port city of Saint Simeon. But since the army was, according to Fulcher of Chartres, wearied by many days of arduous labor, the council of leaders decided not to march on Jerusalem until November 1st. For the remainder of 1098, the Franks settled into Antioch, consecrating churches and dispatching parties of knights to subdue nearby fortresses. Bohemond, who occupied the citadel, essentially acted as Antioch's prince in accordance with the council's decision.
During the siege, there had been one stipulation to that agreement, however: that Bohemond could only rule Antioch so long as Emperor Alexis did not come to claim her. Alexis had failed to bring aid to the crusaders during their desperate standoff with Kerb, despite his daughter Anna's claim that the emperor was much concerned to bring help personally to the Celts. After Bohemond's brilliant defeat of the enormous Turkish army, all the army's leaders were quite content for him to have the city. All that is, except for Count Ramon. Ramon continued to insist that Alexis had not been given sufficient opportunity to claim Antioch. He convinced the council that one final attempt should be made to offer the city to the Byzantines. The army's leaders selected Hugh of Armendois to lead an embassy to Constantinople to request that the emperor come and claim Antioch. Meanwhile, Bohemond would continue to act as Antioch's prince.
In August, the army suffered a devastating loss. Bishop Ademar, the spiritual father of the crusade, revered by all, fell ill and died. Ralph of Caen, the follower of Tancred, describes Ademar as "a man of great merit and a man worthy of honor in any place." Ademar was so respected by both Bohemond and Ramon that he was often the only voice in the army that could mediate between the two.
As the months wore on and the leaders began planning the march on Jerusalem, Bohemond and Raymond's disagreements continued. There was still no word from Alexis, and Bohemond was busily establishing his new state, the Principality of Antioch. It became clear that the Norman prince had no intention of joining in the march on Jerusalem. Ramon insisted that Bohemond keep his vow to participate in Jerusalem's capture. Ramon even promised to accept Bohemond's rule in Antioch if the Norman would swear to aid in the campaign for Jerusalem. Bohemond agreed to this.
November 1st came and went, and the army remained stalled in Antioch, with Bohemond still unwilling to march on the Holy City, regardless of his earlier promise. Ramon, for his part, hesitated to withdraw from Antioch and thereby guarantee Bohemond total control of the city. By now, the common soldiers, eager to fulfill their vows at Jerusalem, were quite impatient with their leaders' delays. Everyone understood that Bohemond would never move his forces out of Antioch, and so the ordinary soldiers began to press Ramon to lead them to Christ's city. "Who else but he could guide them to Jerusalem?" they asked.
Raimon was an old man at the time of his departure for the East. He had been one of the wealthiest lords in Europe. Perhaps only piety explains why such a man could forsake all that for the perils of crusade. Now pressed by the common pilgrims of the Christian army, the aged count at last relented in his long struggle with Bohemond. On January 13, 1099, Count Raymond of Toulouse, barefoot, unarmed, and carrying a pilgrim's staff, departed Antioch at the head of the army, adopting the guise of an ordinary pilgrim as a statement about the true purpose of the crusade. Following him was the whole of the Christian host, singing psalms, rejoicing that at last they journeyed to Jerusalem. Only Bohemond and the bulk of his Normans remained behind in Antioch, though a small Norman contingent under Bohemond's nephew, Tancred, did accompany Raymond.
With Raimon of Toulouse in the lead, the Christian army traveled south through Syria. Along the way, they encountered Saracen fortresses which sent out tribute payments and provisions in exchange for being left unmolested by the now famous destroyers of Kerboka. Many of these small Muslim statelets were in rebellion against the Emir of Damascus and other Turkish princes and thus were keen to remain neutral. Additionally, Palestine was now in the hands of the Fatimids, a Shiite Egyptian-based empire, so the Seljuks of Damascus had no interest in hindering the Frankish advance. Sworn enemies of the Sunni Seljuk Turks, the Fatimids had kept track of the crusaders' progress and had even sent embassies to them, offering to collaborate against the Turks so long as the Franks agreed not to attack Jerusalem. The Fatimids did not yet grasp that the Christian army would settle for nothing less than control of the Holy City.
On May 19, 1099, the crusaders entered Fatimid territory. They marched along the coast, passing the ports of Beirut, Sidon, Tyre, and Acre, all willing to offer supplies in trade for peace. The crusaders obliged, and by June 3rd, they reached the inland road just north of Jaffa, which led to the Holy City. News arrived that a Fatimid army was now mobilizing in Egypt. The Christians were undeterred. They veered inland, confident that if they maintained faith, God would provide victory.
By June 6, the crusaders reached Bethlehem, an entirely Christian city, which welcomed the army as liberators. The following day, the Franks climbed the famous hill of Mount Joy, the point on the road at which Jerusalem becomes visible. The Latin sources emphasized the elation of the pilgrims at this first sighting of the Holy City. Tancred, riding ahead with a scouting party, was one of the first atop Mount Joy, and Ralph of Caen describes his reaction: "Getting his first glimpse of Jerusalem from a distance, Tankred greeted her, placed his knees on the ground, his heart on heaven."
The chaplain of Ramon of Toulouse describes how the Franks organized the siege: "Duke Godfrey and the Count of Flanders and the Duke of Normandy besieged the city from the north side, from the Church of Saint Stephen, located in the center of the city, southward to the angular tower next to the Tower of David. Count Ramon and his army, however, settled down on the western side and besieged Jerusalem from the camp of the Duke to the foot of Mount Zion." The crusaders didn't have the numbers for a full encirclement, and the city was strongly fortified amid rocky, harsh terrain. The Fatimid governor, Iftikar, had expelled all of Jerusalem's Christian inhabitants. Since the story of Antioch's betrayal was also well known, local cisterns had been poisoned or spoiled, and water was scarce. Jerusalem's Christians joined the crusaders in their camp, confirming the rumors of an Egyptian army on the way to relieve the Holy City.
Faced with little time, the Franks decided on a bold, all-out assault on the city. On June 13, the Christian troops stormed Jerusalem's walls, but they were quickly beaten back by the Fatimid defenders. Thomas Madden says that "the crusaders lack sufficient scaling ladders and siege machinery to threaten seriously Jerusalem's towering walls." "The city of Jerusalem is located in a mountainous region which is devoid of trees," wrote Fulcher of Chartres, meaning the crusader army had no timber for the building of siege engines.
However, shortly after the failure of the first assault on the city, a fleet of Genoese and English ships loaded with building materials arrived at Jaffa, having responded to earlier pleas for aid sent back to the West. Seeing in this God's blessing, the Latins set to constructing catapults, ladders, and towers. It was hard labor in the Palestinian sun, but they worked briskly, for as the chronicler Ibn al-Qalanisi wrote, "news reached them that Al-Afdal, the Fatimid vizier, was on his way from Egypt with a mighty army to engage in the jihad against them."
By early July, the crusaders had completed their machinery and were ready for a proper assault on the city. But first, the leaders announced that they would invoke God's aid. On July 8, the army, barefoot and bearing relics, processed around the walls of Jerusalem, singing prayers. The Fatimids, watching from Jerusalem's ramparts, shouted jeers at the Christians and defiled crosses and icons taken from the city's churches. The crusaders finally stopped at the Mount of Olives, the site of Christ's ascension to heaven. Here they offered final prayers that God would grant them victory.
At dawn on July 14, trumpets blasted through the crusader camp, announcing the commencement of the assault. The Muslims inside the city immediately rushed to the walls for the defense, but as they gazed down over the ramparts, they realized that the Westerners had staged an ingenious ruse. For weeks, Godfrey of Bouillon's contingent had busily built siege equipment before Jerusalem's powerful quadrangular tower. The Saracens had responded by working just as hard to bolster the fortifications of that already strong section. But now the Fatimates found that overnight, Godfrey's men had dismantled all their machinery, moved it one kilometer to a point just east of Saint Stephen's Gate, and reassembled the siege engines there. This was an incredible feat of physical endurance for a single night. The Saracens were stunned and terrified, for the portion of the wall now swarming with crusader siege equipment was the weakest point in Jerusalem's defenses.
Fighting raged all of July 14, with Count Ramon's army managing to bring their siege tower close to the city. Although fierce resistance from the Fatimids prevented Ramon's men from actually capturing the wall, however, on the morning of July 15, Godfrey's tower was successfully brought up against the city. Godfrey's knights, Ludolf and Engelbert, were the first to enter Jerusalem, followed quickly by Godfrey and more of his men. It was a crucial moment, with Godfrey fighting alongside his knights in a desperate battle to secure the wall. They captured the Gate of the Column, which Godfrey ordered opened, allowing the whole of the crusader army to rush into the city. Fatimid resistance collapsed as the Christians spread throughout Jerusalem.
Thomas Madden writes that "by the standards of the time adhered to by both Christians and Muslims, the crusaders would have been justified in putting the entire population of Jerusalem to the sword." Despite later highly exaggerated reports, however, that is not what happened. It's true that many of the inhabitants, both Muslims and Jews, were killed in the initial fray. Yet many were also allowed to purchase their freedom or were simply expelled from the city. Tancred and the Normans drove deep into the city's heart, where they plundered the Temple Mount. Iftikar and the high-ranking Fatimid officers took refuge in the Tower of David, which they surrendered to Count Raymond, who protected their lives and later provided them with safe passage back to Egypt.
The crusaders had done it. Pope Urban's dream had come true: a Latin army had reclaimed Jerusalem for Christendom. The chaplain of Raymond of Toulouse writes, "Now that the city was taken, it was well worth all our previous labors and hardships to see the devotion of the pilgrims of the Holy Sepulchre, how they rejoiced and exalted and sang a new song to the Lord." It was the crowning moment for the crusaders to kneel in prayer before the tomb of Christ.
But although they had captured Jerusalem, the Christian hosts still had to deal with a large Egyptian army on its way to reverse their victory. The crusaders acted quickly to secure the newly conquered Jerusalem. On July 22, 1099, Godfrey of Bouillon was elected Defender of the Holy Sepulchre, ruler of the nascent Kingdom of Jerusalem. It is popularly believed that Count Raymond IV of Toulouse was unhappy with Godfrey's election, but historians John and Laurita Hill conclude that "Ramon very likely concurred in Godfrey's appointment as defender of Jerusalem."
Soon word arrived from Tancred, who is scouting the southern coast, that indeed a Fatimid army at Ashkelon was preparing to march on Jerusalem. Godfrey's response was to rally the Christian forces to the offensive, while the Latin and Greek clergy gathered together in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre to pray for victory. Godfrey, along with the forces of Robert of Flanders, marched south, rendezvousing at Ramla with the armies of Ramon of Toulouse and Robert of Normandy, as well as Tancred, who had captured Nablus earlier that month. The newly elected Patriarch Arnulf carried the relic of the True Cross at the head of the Christian host.
Al-Afdal, the Egyptian vizier, had assembled a massive army made up of troops from all over the Fatimid Caliphate. He camped in the plain of Al-Majdal, just outside of Ashkelon, with the plan of next marching on Jerusalem to drive out the Franks. He was unaware that the crusaders were already on the move. Godfrey and Raimon divided their forces into nine divisions, then rapidly advanced on the Fatimid position. On August 12, the Fatimids were caught unaware when the crusaders attacked. Unlike the Turks, the Fatimids did not employ large numbers of mounted archers, and their lance-wielding Arab and Berber cavalry, which moved closely with their infantry, offered a solid target for the devastating Frankish cavalry charge. Historian R.C. Smail says that "the charge alone secured a Latin victory," and the best sources agree that the duration of the battle was brief. Olaf Allah's troops scattered, and as Fulcher of Chartres writes, "in the sweeping attack the Saracens perished on all sides." The entire Egyptian camp, filled with horses and provisions, was captured by the Christians.
It's commonly believed that in the aftermath of their defeat, the Fatimids at Ashkelon offered to surrender the city to the crusaders, but a quarrel erupted between Raimon and Godfrey over who would possess it. The Fatimids, hearing of this quarrel, broke off negotiations, and Ashkelon was lost to the crusaders. The source of this tale comes from Ralph of Caen and Albert of Aachen, neither of whom were present at the battle, and both of whom were biased against Count Ramon. Our best Saracen source, Ibn al-Qalanisi, offers a very different account: "The Franks besieged Ashkelon until at length the townsmen agreed to pay them 20,000 dinars as protection money and to deliver this sum to them forthwith. They therefore set about collecting this amount from the inhabitants of the town, but it befell that a quarrel broke out between the Frankish leaders, and they retired without having received any of the money." Ibn al-Qalanisi, unimpacted by the various regional loyalties of the Latin chroniclers, is probably our best source for this incident. He says nothing about a specific quarrel between Godfrey and Ramon, just that some sort of disagreement resulted in a failure to collect tribute from Ashkelon, but not a missed opportunity to actually possess the city itself. An offer of total surrender of Ascalon at this stage seems questionable at best, as the city was well fortified. The disagreement may have been, as John and Laurita Hill point out, that most crusaders considered their vows fulfilled and were not interested in aiding the leaders in a full-on siege of the Egyptian city.
The crusader victory at Ashkelon meant that Jerusalem was secure as a Christian possession. With the Holy City secured, Godfrey of Bouillon ruled a tiny Latin outpost surrounded by hostile Muslim neighbors. Over the next two decades, the Kingdom of Jerusalem would expand dramatically through relentless conquests of the surrounding territories. For now, Godfrey and only 300 knights committed themselves to the defense of Jerusalem, while the bulk of the army returned home to Europe. A similar process began in the north, in the newly founded Principality of Antioch and County of Edessa.
In December of 1099, the rulers of these two states, Prince Bohemond and Count Baldwin, travel to Jerusalem to celebrate Christmas with Godfrey and to worship at the Holy Sepulchre. Meanwhile, Robert of Flanders, Robert of Normandy, and Ramon IV of Toulouse returned to Constantinople, where Emperor Alexis I Komnenos received them as heroes and hosted lavish feasts in their honor. While the two Roberts returned to Europe, Ramon IV ultimately returned to Outremer to lay the groundwork for the fourth Crusader state, the County of Tripoli, which would exist between the Principality of Antioch and the Kingdom of Jerusalem.
News of Jerusalem's liberation spread across Europe. Throughout the Latin world, people celebrated the restoration of the Holy Sepulchre. Returning crusaders were welcomed as heroes, their stories immortalized in songs. In the coming decades, pilgrims from every corner of Europe would make the long journey to the now Christian-ruled Jerusalem, where they could worship safely at the Holy Sepulchre.
The First Crusade's triumph solidified in the minds of Latins this new concept of the crusade: a war waged with the blessing of the Church, not for selfish, petty reasons, but in the cause of Christendom, to expand and defend the domain of Christ. For the Christians of the medieval West, only God's blessing explained this victory in the East, and therefore the concept of crusading must be pleasing to Him. For generations to come, many Latins would flock to the crusade in the Holy Land to fight for the Holy Sepulchre.
The success of the First Crusade also prompted the Pope to sanctify the wars in Spain against the Moors, so that soldiers who fought the Muslims in Iberia now enjoyed the crusade indulgence granted by the Church. Crusading expanded further into the conflicts with pagans in the Baltic, which came to be known as the Northern Crusades. Indeed, crusades would continue to be called well into the ages of the wars against the Ottomans, and the long endurance of this institution owes to this first great triumph: the capture of Jerusalem during the First Crusade.