Count Bohemond

by Alfred Duggan

  In the whole pilgrim army only Butumites the Greek was cheerful. He explained to Bohemond, with whom he often supped at the end of the day, that he expected an early capitulation. “The garrison know that their King has deserted them. If the town falls by assault their lives are forfeit. They are sensible men. They will yield while their defences are intact and they have something to bargain with.”

  “I see. Have they already approached you?” This was how Greeks sometimes broke the news of important developments to mere Franks.

  “Not officially. My agents in the blockade ships on the lake can sometimes communicate with the Greek townspeople. The Turks would yield tomorrow if the terms were good enough. I suppose your people agree that their lives should be spared?”

  “I suppose so, if they yield a place while it is still defensible. That’s a law of war in the west, though I don’t know how far it applies to infidels. If we let them live we must allow them to come out with horse and arms or the common pilgrims will massacre them. They will probably try that anyway. The brothers of those pioneers who were shot as they dug the mine will feel themselves cheated. On the whole I am against a capitulation. We can take Nicaea. We would have taken it already if Count Raymond had been bright enough to tell the difference between night and day. Let’s take it, and kill the whole garrison. We are in no hurry, and a brisk slaughter of the infidel will encourage the lesser pilgrims.”

  “Nicaea is a strong fortress. It used to be prosperous. The Emperor would like to get it back undamaged. Those are his commands, and while you are in his dominions you are sworn to obey them. I must insist that tomorrow my interpreter put the proposal to the full council.”

  “Of course, my dear general. We are faithful allies. But I am not the council, I cannot agree on their behalf. Now it’s getting late, and I want a word with my nephew Tancred before I go to bed. Will you excuse me?”

  At the council next morning Bohemond seconded the very prudent suggestion of their valued ally. Then Tancred jumped up to denounce in a fiery speech this underhand attempt to cheat the poorer pilgrims of their rightful plunder. Even his uncle announced himself persuaded, and it was agreed to order a general assault for the next day. Since there was no breach it would have to be an escalade, and a day was needed to make scaling-ladders.

  But no Frank can cope with a Greek ally, as Bohemond complained bitterly afterwards. “If you treat him honestly he cheats you, and when you try to cheat him he does it better. Either way he makes you look silly.”

  On 19th June 1097 the pilgrims looked very silly. As they formed up at sunrise for the assault, in full armour and weighed down with scaling-ladders, they saw Greek banners on the walls of Nicaea. On the battlements were Patzinak archers with drawn bows, and the gates were closed. While the pilgrims hesitated Butumites explained, through his interpreter, to Duke Godfrey. He thought that would be less unpleasant than explaining directly to Count Bohemond.

  “Last night the infidels in Nicaea made terms with the Emperor. They are now embarked on our boats on the lake. They will be taken to the city where we can discuss their ransoms. A condition of the surrender was that Nicaea should not be pillaged. It is now a walled town of our glorious Empire, and the rule applies that governed your march through Europe. Franks may not enter the fortifications. Exceptionally, as a reward for your gallant efforts, small parties of unarmed pilgrims may visit the town under escort. But the Emperor does not wish to deprive you of the spoil. The wealth of Nicaea will be taken, under armed guard, to the imperial camp at Pelecanum beyond Nicomedia. There the Emperor will divide it among his faithful Franks.”

  “We can still take Nicaea,” Godfrey answered, “and if we did we would still be fighting the heathen. It’s a pity that your great Christian Emperor won’t hire Christian soldiers. But if the Turks and their treasure are already on your ships the capture of the town will gain us nothing. I shall advise my fellow-pilgrims to disperse. How soon can we call on the Emperor at Pelecanum?”

  All the Frankish knights were angry and dismayed. Men of good birth had been killed during the savage fighting against the King of the Turks. The lesser pilgrims, equally angry at first, were mollified that same evening. Before withdrawing from Nicaea the Greek engineers distributed all their stores, a great mass of bread and salt pork and wine; there was a lavish feast for all comers. At that stage of the long march sensible camp followers valued a full stomach more than a wallet full of heavy plunder.

  Bohemond persuaded the other Hautevilles to come with him to Pelecanum. Tancred was naturally reluctant. But it was now, for the crossing of the deserts of Anatolia, that they needed help from the Greeks; and unless Tnacred swore fealty they might not get it.

  “I gather the Emperor really wants an oath from you,” Bohemond explained. “You are not a man who swears lightly, but in this case I think you might. Consider the honour done to you. Until we reached Romania you had never drawn your sword; you have only charged once in your life, at the River Vardar. That one charge earned you such fame that the mighty Emperor does not think himself safe until you have sworn to serve him. By the way, I don’t suppose the pact between Alexius and the pilgrimage will bind us for very much longer. If he does another deal with our enemies, behind our backs, we shall all defy him.”

  “It was a deal, it was with our enemies, it was concluded behind our backs,” Tancred answered carefully. “But we can’t say that Alexius is forsworn until we see what he offers us at Pelecanum. If his presents are worth as much as we should have got from the sack of Nicaea we have lost nothing. If he insists I shall take oath. When we meet the Turks in open country we shall need those mounted archers of his, heathen though they are.”

  The camp of the imperial army was very unlike the disorderly settlements of the pilgrims. A large square enclosure was marked out a by a palisaded earthen bank, pierced only by four genuine wooden gates which might be opened or shut. As the Counts rode through a gate a strong body of guards saluted them. Within, tents of a uniform pattern were arranged in straight rows, so that it was easy to move from place to place. A broad main street led to the imperial pavilion, made entirely of purple cloth; a few yards away stood the imperial chapel, a smaller purple tent; its walls were looped up to display a rich portable altar, on which candles burned. In the entry of his pavilion Alexius sat on a gilded throne, which itself stood on a thick carpet laid on the ground. He wore his robes of state and his imperial crown. Behind him stood a motionless line of guards and courtiers.

  It was so obviously all laid on to impress the barbarian that Bohemond would not allow himself to be impressed. All this grandeur, all this ritual, had come down from the days when the Emperor was a mighty ruler; since the battle of Mankizert, twenty-five years ago, that was no longer true. Alexius was richer than any Frankish Count, probably richer than all of them put together. But they had come here, at the urging of the Pope, to protect him from his enemies; and therefore the army of the pilgrimage must be stronger.

  After they had gazed at their leisure at all the splendour set before them the Emperor rose graciously from his throne to receive his guests with all honour. He spoke, of course, through an interpreter; but he must have recalled that Bohemond could understand Greek, for what he said was exactly what the interpreter put into French.

  “My loyal followers, you have yielded to me the town of Nicaea in accordance with your promises. Now follow me into this tent and you will see that your loyalty has cost you nothing.”

  They began to crowd towards the tent, curiosity and greed overcoming their fragile Frankish dignity. Tancred alone stood firm, so immovable that his uncle had to walk round him. “Come on,” muttered Bohemond. “If we don’t hurry the others may get more than their share.”

  “Then you go on, and grab for all the Hautevilles. You are expert in that, my dear uncle. I have not been invited. The Emperor wants only his loyal followers.”

  “Don’t be silly. You are missing great riches. Slip in with the crowd and help yourself.�
��

  But Alexius noticed everything. “Count Tancred, I believe?” said the interpreter. “You were so eager to reach the foe that you could not wait in the city to swear fealty to the Emperor. If you will do so now, before these other noble Franks as witnesses, you may take first pick of all the wealth stored in this tent.”

  Everyone stared at Tancred, who stood irresolute. “Come on, young man, swear and get it over,” urged Godfrey. “It isn’t pleasant, I know, but we have all done it. It’s no worse than swearing fealty to your natural ruler at home.”

  “I have never sworn fealty to anyone,” Tancred answered. “The Normans of Apulia have no natural ruler. We rule ourselves. If I defy this heretic here and now, who will stand by me? Why take a share of his wealth? With our swords we can have the whole of it.”

  “I for one won’t stand by you,” said Bohemond sharply. “Do you suppose we would have sworn fealty to the Emperor if we thought we were strong enough to overthrow him?”

  “Besides,” added Godfrey, “no one here can help you without being recreant. The rest of us are already the Emperor’s men.”

  “Very well. I give in. The welfare of the whole pilgrimage must come before my private independence. Bear witness to what I do. Here, interpreter, ask the Emperor to take my hands in his. Tell me what I must say. “Tancred fell on one knee where he stood, so that Alexius had to step forward to grasp his hands.

  “That’s that,” he said a moment later, ostentatiously dusting his fingers as he stood erect. “Now I choose my gift. Don’t bother to show me the treasure inside. All the gold I want I can win from the Turks. Instead I choose this pavilion. Please tell your servants to strike it. The one I have now is too small.”

  There was a rapid interchange between the interpreter and the scowling Emperor. “You silly boy, you can’t have the imperial state pavilion, thirty camel-loads of royal purple cloth. Because of your impudence the Emperor rejects your fealty. You are not important. It does not matter to the Emperor whether you are his friend or his enemy. Now leave the camp.”

  As Tancred strode towards his horse, waiting at the camp gate, he snarled over his shoulder: “You are all witnesses that Alexius does not hold my fealty, since he has broken his side of the bargain. But I think that one day it will matter to him that I am his foe.”

  It was embarrassing for all concerned. With scarlet cheeks the interpreter invited the Franks to enter the pavilion, and they hurried in with their eyes on their shoes. Bohemond stole one glance at the rigid back walking to the gate. It seemed likely that if Tancred lived long enough his prophecy would come true. It was comforting to remember that he was half a Hauteville.

  All the same, the heap of gold, silver and jewels waiting for them within made up greater wealth than any of them had expected, greater than some of them thought existed anywhere in the world. Even Count Stephen of Blois, who had married the managing daughter of the mighty conqueror of England because of her splendid dowry, was quite dazzled by the Emperor’s generosity. The quarrel beside the imperial throne had sobered the Franks. There was little jostling or grabbing as they watched its division. It was much more than they would have taken in the sack of any town, even such a great town as Nicaea.

  Count Raymond felt a little anxious; but he got his share like everyone else, though the oath he had sworn to the Emperor was less binding. Count Stephen was ecstatic. Even Bohemond was satisfied. It did seem, after all, that the Emperor dealt generously with his Frankish servants.

  When the money had been sealed into sacks and deposited with the waiting escort the Emperor once more seated himself on his throne and prepared to address the assembled Counts. He sat in full state, his sceptre in one hand and the orb of the world in the other, the imperial crown on his head. His interpreter declaimed formally, as though in a court of law.

  “Gentlemen, the mighty Emperor and his invincible army cannot march with you to conquer the Turks. Troubles on the lower Danube require his presence in Europe. He will give you all the assistance in his power—ample provisions, expert guides, a general of high rank who will march with you and report direct to the throne. General Taticius is familiar with Turkish methods of warfare. In fact he is a Turk by race, though a Christian veteran of the imperial service. You will find his advice of great value. He now awaits you in your camp before Nicaea. The Emperor suggests that, after suitable refreshment, you should ride there and confer with him.”

  The Emperor did not wait for an answer. As the interpreter finished speaking he rose from his throne and vanished into the recesses of the great pavilion.

  Servants led the Counts to another pavilion, where a long table bore a cold collation and many wine-jugs. They ate hastily, almost in silence; for there was a long ride before them and they did not care to speak among Greek spies. Within an hour they were mounting their horses at the gate of the camp.

  Chapter VII - The Pilgrims Divided

  The quickest way from Pelecanum to Nicaea was across the Gulf of Nicomedia. But no prudent Frank would carry gold by water if it was possible to ride. The Counts took the great paved road to Nicomedia twenty miles away; from there they would follow Godfrey’s marked track to Nicaea.

  First came the mules laden with treasure, escorted by a strong guard. The Counts rode behind, where they could see that all went well and charge quickly to the rescue if danger threatened. The width of the road made it convenient to ride three abreast; Bohemond noted with interest how these great men, his equals and rivals, spontaneously sorted themselves out.

  Count Raymond rode in front, with a south French nobleman on either hand. Count Raymond often inserted himself in the front rank, because he had persuaded himself that it was the will of Pope Urban that he should lead the whole pilgrimage. He was a very great man at home, and the others were quite willing to grant him precedence; but it was unlikely that they would obey his orders in the field.

  Behind Count Raymond the three Boulogne brothers rode abreast, Godfrey in the place of honour in the middle. It was curious how in that family Godfrey always took the lead, though the Count of Boulogne was the eldest. But then Count Eustace intended to return to his rich fief when the pilgrimage was over; whereas Godfrey and Baldwin were landless men who would remain in the east until they died. Besides, it had already become evident at the siege of Nicaea that Godfrey was an outstanding commander.

  The Count of Vermandois came next, with a French courtier on either side. By right of birth he should have ridden first, and when Raymond had pushed himself in that position he had avoided the second place. But it was hard to know where to put this rather foolish Count. In Paris he was the King’s brother and a very great man. Here in Anatolia he was only the leader of a small contingent. Besides, this was a pilgrimage and that eminent brother of his was under the ban of the Church—woman trouble, of course. Pope Urban tried to make great lords live as chastely as peasants, though in this degenerate age that was to ask too much. Bohemond was very lucky not to be bothered by these temptations, but he congratulated himself that it was partly due to his own virtue. These great lords ought to fight harder, and go hunting if they were so unfortunate as to be at peace with all their neighbours. At the end of the day they would be so tired that they would live faithfully with their own wives.

  Robert of Normandy, Robert of Flanders, and Stephen of Blois rode side by side. There was nothing wrong with the Duke of Normandy, and not very much right either. It seemed odd to remember that all the Normans of Apulia had feared his arrival. He might be the head of the whole Norman race, but he did nothing to impose his authority. He was pleasant to everyone he met, even to his creditors who were numerous. He was a gallant knight and a skilful warrior. But he was so indifferent to danger that he would make a reckless leader; he concentrated on the foe before his own lance and forgot the rest of the battlefield. The Normans of Apulia would never be so foolish as to follow him, and he never tried to persuade them that they ought to be his subjects. Count Stephen was another unmilitary ass, not e
ven terrible in the charge like the Duke his brother-in-law. Count Robert was the best of that trio, and a single-minded pilgrim into the bargain. But though everyone admired him it was known that he would go back to Flanders as soon as he had done his duty. There was no danger that any Norman of Apulia would be tempted away from the Hautevilles to follow the banner of Flanders.

  Best of all, every one of these lords accepted Bohemond son of Duke Robert as fully his equal. There need be no more worrying about the status of a Hauteville. The next thing to worry about was the desertion of the Greeks. On this pilgrimage there was always something to worry about. He would ask Taticius some pointed questions as soon as he met him.

  Late on the following day they reached the camp before Nicaea. Immediately every leader set about distributing the Emperor’s gifts among his faithful followers. There was no point in keeping a reserve of treasure. During the next stage of the march they would eat Greek supplies for as long as they lasted; and then forage in the lands of the infidel where bread was won by the sword, not exchanged for money. After the distribution there would of course be a great feast. Late on the following morning, when the headaches were beginning to wear off, the council of leaders would meet to consider their next move.

  Bohemond did not wait to reward his followers in person. There were important inquiries to be made, and he was unique among the great lords in having a completely trustworthy deputy, his nephew Tancred. Tancred was waiting for him, still in a very bad temper. He cheered up when he saw the great pile of gold, for he regarded anything gained from the Greeks as stolen property at last returned to its rightful owners. In his opinion those cowardly heretics should long ago have made over all they possessed to their gallant defenders.