“It looks bad, I know,” answered Bohemond, “but I don’t think it’s a treacherous plot. Of course Count Raymond had a rough journey. He chose an absurd road, just because he would rather ride hundreds of miles through mountains than sail for a day on the open sea. The mountaineers who attacked him are not the Emperor’s subjects, but his enemies. As to the misfortune that befell Bishop Adhemar it must have been a misunderstanding. A Bishop wouldn’t halt just because a common trooper hailed him, but those Patzinaks shoot after the first challenge. A heathen wouldn’t recognize a holy man. When he reaches the next world he will know better. Finally, Alexius is not trying to murder our leaders. On the contrary, he is always looking for some supreme commander of all the pilgrims so that he can negotiate with one man instead of a mob.”
An encouraging thought struck him. He hastened to share it.
“This is indeed a sad misfortune, but it may turn out to the advantage of the Normans of Apulia. Don’t you see, my nephews, that if the papal legate were here we should all be bound to obey him? Except perhaps when we were actually fighting. But he might, he just might, order us to obey Count Raymond; and it would be hard to defy him openly. Now Count Raymond will arrive without his tame legate, and if he tries to take command we can tell him to think again. All the Counts will be equal, and that will include the Counts from Italy. It’s lucky that Godfrey and Baldwin saw me as the honoured guest of the Emperor. That will help them to forget that my grandfather was a simple knight when their grandfather was Duke of all Lorraine. This campaign may go better if a Hauteville leads it. That may happen.”
Tancred agreed in words, though he was still clearly very angry. The cousins still insisted on crossing by night to avoid taking the oath of fealty. But there was no open breach among the Hautevilles.
Chapter VI - The Pilgrims United
Nicomedia was a Christian town, held by a Greek garrison. But the Turks had overrun it in their first victorious rush after Manzikert, and a town took many generations to recover from such a barbarian visitation. It was a poor place, without shops, without craftsmen, without inns. Frankish lords preferred to lodge in their own pavilions outside the walls; the poorer pilgrims clustered round their leaders in makeshift shelters, where no Greek would ask them to pay rent.
Several armies were encamped side by side: the Lorrainers and Flemings and north French who had followed the three Boulogne brothers, the French knights who followed Count Hugh of Vermandois, another great host of Frenchmen with no particular leader, nearly half the Normans of Apulia who had crossed into Anatolia with Tancred while Bohemond still lingered in the city. Every day Greek ships brought provisions, the gift of the Emperor. But the supply was beginning to diminish; it was time to get on with the war.
Godfrey of Lorraine had invited his equals to a council. Sending out the invitations had been a tricky business. In Lorraine Godfrey had been a Duke, which in the German lands was a higher title than Count. But out here the Greeks, who used the same titles, held that Count was above Duke; and Godfrey had resigned his office when he set out on this pilgrimage. Anyway, a Count by descent ought to be grander than a Duke by imperial appointment. To avoid quarrels it was better to spread the net widely.
They sat on trusses of hay in the shade of a grove. Each had beside him a roll of spiced bread and a mug of nasty Greek resin-flavoured wine, but supplies were so short that even Duke Godfrey could not provide a feast for this business meeting. He sat in the middle of the semi-circle, his two brothers on his left and Count Hugh in the place of honour on his right. Other French Counts, some of rather doubtful eminence, extended the line on either hand. On the leftward extremity, the lowest places, sat the young Hautevilles, the brothers William and Tancred and their cousin Richard.
Duke Godfrey stood up to speak formally, above a hum of desultory chatter. “It’s about time we began this war, after riding so far to find our enemies. The King of the Greeks threatens to cut off supplies altogether, unless we march south to lay siege to Nicaea. It seems a reasonable move in itself. I have no objection. Do you know, by the way, that these Greeks never bothered to make a road between Nicomedia and Nicaea, though for centuries they ruled in these parts? I have sent out pioneers to clear the way, and to put up markers for those who come after. Will you gentlemen bring your men to join me when I begin my march?”
Richard of the Principate jumped up. He was smaller than the other Hautevilles but still taller than most Frenchmen. “I should not interrupt such great lords, but we know the Greeks and you northerners do not. If you speak of the King of the Greeks we shall get no more Greek bread. They consider it an insult. Alexius styles himself Emperor; not Emperor of anywhere, just Emperor. Refer to him as the Emperor Alexius. You ought not to mind. Most of you have sworn fealty to him, though my cousin and I did not.”
“I swore to serve him while I was within his dominions,” Godfrey answered with a frown. “By all accounts your Count Bohemond went much further. He offered to serve him as a mercenary, for wages.”
“Alexius is a very good chap,” said Hugh of Vermandois. “He treated me with all the deference due to my birth, and the food in his palace is magnificent. By all means let’s give him the title he likes. Here’s to the Emperor Alexius.” He sipped his wine, and quickly put it down with a grimace of disgust.
A suppressed chuckle ran down the line. Everyone present knew that Count Hugh had been lodged in the palace as a hostage for the good behaviour of the French; if he had tried to leave it he would have discovered that for himself. But so long as chamberlains bowed before him, and stewards served him with good meals, he had been content to remain where he was.
“Very well, that’s decided,” Godfrey summed up. “The Emperor Alexius and no lesser style. Anyway, he’s the lord of most of us, so long as we are in his town of Nicomedia. To return to more important matters. Will you march when I do?”
“Of course,” said the Count of Toul. “But there are other things to be settled. If Duke Godfrey has made this road he is entitled to be the first to use it. We follow after. But when we reach Nicaea we shall need a single commander. Duke Godfrey? The Pope’s legate? The Emperor Alexius? I’m not in the running, I know, so I shall obey anyone the rest of you agree on. But we must have a single commander.”
“I’m not in the running either,” Godfrey said quickly. “I’m not grand enough, nor rich enough, and anyway I don’t want it. Neither Alexius nor the legate will be with us at Nicaea. The legate has not yet recovered from his wound, and the Emperor says he will be busy at home. We must think of someone else.”
“Why go to Nicaea at all?” asked Tancred. “Alexius desires it, which is a very good reason for going somewhere else. The legate can’t be with us because Alexius ordered one of his archers to shoot him. At any rate that’s why the rascal escaped punishment, he claimed that he was carrying out the express orders of his paymaster. I’ve seen a good road leading due east from here. That must be the general direction of Jerusalem. Let’s march along it until the Turks come out to fight us, If any Greek heretics try to come with us let’s treat them as they treated the Pope’s legate. But they won’t try, they are too afraid of the Turks.”
“We would all enjoy doing that.” Godfrey spoke with a confidential smile. “But for various reasons it would be imprudent. I believe Jerusalem lies south of due east, though I’m not sure. Without Greek guides we would never find it. Without Greek food we would soon be hungry. Anyway, I for one couldn’t march with Count Tancred, since I have given my oath to the Emperor.”
Hugh of Vermandois summed up. He was not a famous warrior or a powerful ruler, and in addition he was not very bright. But he was so sure of the deference due to his birth that he was always willing to take the initiative.
“We’ll go to Nicaea and besiege it. It’s what the Emperor wants, it’s the only way to make sure of supplies from the city, and from a military point of view it seems the right thing to do. As to choosing a leader, this isn’t the time for it. Some
of the most famous pilgrims have not yet reached the army. Count Raymond, Count Bohemond and the legate are still in Constantinople. The Duke of Normandy and the Count of Flanders are still marching through Thrace. Wait until all of them have joined us. For the present this council of leaders will be able to manage a simple siege.”
Early in May Bohemond joined the besiegers of Nicaea, with those of his men who had not gone ahead under Tancred. His arrival was as impressive as he could wish. Beside him rode an eminent Greek soldier, Manual Butumites, who commanded a large corps of engineers. At the tail of the column, behind the oxdrawn siege-engines, came boats mounted on wheels, which were to blockade the lakeside wall of Nicaea. Every man in his army was well fed and carried an emergency-reserve of biscuit. Their horses were fat and newly shod. As soon as the boats had been launched at the western end of the Ascanian Lake, Greeks began to ferry supplies to the besiegers, who had been on short rations. It was a most convincing demonstration of the benefits of cooperation with the Emperor.
Hugh of Vermandois came out to greet Count Bohemond. Before a cheering crowd of pilgrims the royal Count reined in his warhorse and embraced Bohemond as an equal. Butumites made a gesture as though to dismount, but Hugh graciously signed to him to stay in the saddle. Then Bohemond presented him, without waiting for an interpreter. He had become quite fluent in Greek, which added to the amazement of the pilgrims from the north.
The council of equal commanders seemed to be running the siege without difficulty. Of course Bohemond, who had brought such valuable help, was given a place on this council. No one could sneer at the birth of a Hauteville immediately after the brother of the King of France had kissed him on both cheeks. Godfrey and his brother Baldwin welcomed him as an old friend, and his nephews were obviously willing to let bygones be bygones. It could not have passed off better if he had planned every move in advance. As a matter of fact, nearly every move had been planned in advance.
Manuel Butumites was also invited to attend that evening’s council. But the other lords forgot to invite his interpreter and Bohemond forbore to remind them; so he could speak only through Bohemond. That also helped.
Butumites asked a good many questions. Like all other Greek soldiers, he wanted to know what the enemy intended to do; as opposed to the sensible Frankish custom of keeping your weapons handy and charging the enemy whenever he chose to appear. There were local peasants in camp, come to sell what the Turks had left them of last years’ harvest; they seemed to know all the news of besieged Nicaea. The King of the Turks had ridden eastward to make war on the Armenians; the garrison had asked him to save them, and he was now hastening west at the head of a great army. All this Butumites related to the council, and then suggested that they should fortify their camp before the impending attack.
Bohemond translated what was said, and saw at once that his fellow-Counts did not like it. Godfrey spoke up at once.
“To fit out my men I sold all I possessed. Then for a whole winter I rode through strange lands. I wished to reach the infidels and charge them, not to hide behind a palisade for fear they should charge me. If this Greek won’t face them let him go home to the city.”
Bohemond did not translate that in so many words, though he also thought Butumites too cautious. “Look, my lord Manual,” he said soothingly, “I know that you speak as a veteran. You fear that in open country these Turks will overcome us. They will shoot their arrows from a distance until they have killed our horses, and then finished us off with their swords. They can’t do that here, before Nicaea. They want to break into the town, and we want to keep them out. They must ride to meet us, and we shall kill them all.”
Butumites appeared to be persuaded, though Bohemond noticed afterwards that he never strayed far from his fastest horse. Before a battle these Greeks always thought more of flight than of victory.
A few days later Count Raymond led in his strong army. The legate came with him, fully recovered and riding a warhorse. Bishop Adhemar was the son of a French baron; he was fully armed, and as willing to fight as to pray. Like most Bishops he never expected a miracle, and disapproved of those enthusiastic pilgrims, chiefly drawn from the lower clergy, who counted on God to get them out of all difficulties. He took his place quite naturally on the council of leaders, but he did not expect to be asked to preside.
He was polite to Butumites, and to every other Greek he met; he never spoke of the wound he had received outside Salonica. But he did not conceal his dislike of the schism. Bohemond, who could suck in gossip as a fish sucks air from a stream, gathered that he had raised the question of submission to Rome with Alexius, and been disappointed with the answer.
Count Raymond was by nature a bore. Some years older than Bohemond, who was the oldest of the other leaders, he continually drew on relevant experiences from his own past. He was expert in feudal custom; but it was the custom of Provence, which differed from that of the Normans and north French. He sneered at those Franks who had sworn fealty to the Emperor, and explained that his own oath—not to harm him—was much superior. He took it for granted that he had known exactly what was in Pope Urban’s mind when he spo*ke at Clermont, though it was the common opinion that the Pope had not known what he was going to say until he heard himself saying it. Finally, he never explained himself in one word if he could find ten to make his meaning clear.
But he was eager for the fray, as even Tancred admitted to his uncle. On the very evening of his arrival, while his men were pitching their tents, a small band of Turks tried to cut their way into Nicaea. Count Raymond charged bravely and drove them off. Later his engineers cut off the heads of the dead and threw them over the walls of Nicaea from catapults. That gave the besieged Turks something to think about.
The Count of Flanders was the next to arrive, with a good army. He had travelled through the winter with the Duke of Normandy, and he knew well all the great families of the Normans. But he also treated Count Bohemond as in every way his equal.
Within a few days Duke Robert would arrive, which would be the final test of Bohemond’s position. But before that the pilgrims fought a considerable battle—and Bohemond was unable to take part in it. The King of the Turks led his men in a fierce attack on the besiegers. Count Raymond and the legate met them, and presently the Flemings charged them from a flank. All day the battle raged, at very close quarters. But the garrison of Nicaea could be seen massing just inside a gate, ready to charge out and join the other infidels. The Normans of Apulia, posted opposite this gate, dared not weaken their line.
It was astonishing, and rather frightening, that light horsemen without mail could encounter western knights and dispute the field for hours. These Turks were fantastically courageous. They were killed by the hundred, but they killed many pilgrims. Count Baldwin of Ghent, as well armed and well mounted as any other good knight, was unhorsed and done to death before he could get to his feet. In the end the King of the Turks and the remnant of his men fled to the eastward. The pilgrims might concentrate on their siege. They began to mine a tower.
At the beginning of June the Duke of Normandy and the Count of Blois at last rode into camp, with a great following. Duke Robert turned out to be a gallant and charming knight, so assured of his own social eminence that he was eager to be friends with everybody. By birth he was the head of the Norman race everywhere, but even in Normandy he could seldom enforce his will; he did not expect the Normans of Apulia to obey him.
He greeted all the Hautevilles in friendly fashion, and sat down beside Bohemond at the council of leaders. The trouble was, as Bohemond said to Tancred afterwards, that he never noticed where he sat or with whom he was discussing the campaign. “I feared he might not treat us as equals, and he does. But he is just as friendly with common troopers, so his friendship does not really enhance the eminence of the Hautevilles.”
The Count of Blois kept greater state, but seemed bewildered by everything he saw. He made no particular suggestion about the conduct of the campaign, except that if
they marched beyond reach of convoys from the city they would all starve. He explained frankly that he had joined the pilgrimage only because his wife had commanded him to; he must stay with the army or be disgraced as a recreant, but the sooner they all went home the better he would be pleased. His wife, Duke Robert’s sister, evidently ruled the County of Blois; perhaps it was as well that she did not rule Normandy also, or she would have tried to enforce her authority over the Normans of Apulia. Stephen of Blois was obsessed by the danger of starvation in this unknown land. He had with him an elaborate abacus, which he worked himself instead of leaving it to a clerk. His calculations had convinced him that the great host of pilgrims, who included thousands of non-combatant women and children and clergy, would need much more food every day than could be gathered by all the armed foragers they could put in the field.
The other Counts agreed to let that problem solve itself when it arose. Foragers could gather enough to feed the fighting men; the others must stay behind in some friendly town, or go home. The pilgrimage could not be planned entirely to fit in with the arrangements made by the Emperor for supplying them.
Meanwhile the siege-operations suffered a set-back. Count Raymond, after some blustering about his past experience, set to work all the pioneers in the united army to dig a mine under one tower of the defences. It was a good mine, as even Tancred admitted; soundly dug, with a minimum of casualties, to reach right under the foundations of the tower. Unfortunately Count Raymond made a mistake in his timing. As soon as the chamber had been filled with dry fuel it was duly set alight. But the fire took some time to catch hold, and the ancient foundations were stubborn. The pilgrims heard a great rumble as the tower came crashing down, but since it was the middle of a pitch-black night they could not assault immediately. By sunrise the Turks had built another wall behind the breach, and the proposed assault was cancelled. All the dangerous and exhausting work had gone for nothing.
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