Béarn as the person responsible for the construction of their tower. Th is was a
political, rather than military, appointment. Gaston had travelled on crusade with Raymond of Toulouse and the Provençal knights and was a very welcome member of their company; he brought with him his own small following of knights and a wealth of experience in warfare against Muslim opponents from his campaign in Iberia in 1087. But Gaston was rather independently minded and certainly no vassal of the count. Although he camped beside the great Provençal warrior William of Montpellier at the siege of Nicea, he was attracted
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to the spirited company of Drogo of Nesle, Th
omas of Marle, and their friends,
with whom he fought at the battle of Dorylaeum. At the time of the battle, these French knights were loosely aligned to Hugh the Great.
During the siege of Antioch, Gaston agreed to a request from Raymond of Toulouse that he join William of Montpellier and the boldest of the Provençal company in garrisoning a castle built outside the city to prevent sorties from the west of the city. Th
is successful alliance continued for the famous battle
with Kerbogha, where Gaston fought alongside William of Montpellier. But the mutual respect that existed between Gaston and William was not enough to bind him to the wider Provençal contingent of Count Raymond, for soon aft er the victory Gaston left the main army with those now famous for being fi rst into Antioch – Fulcher of Chartres, Drogo of Nesle and the other champions –
and rode east to seek service with Baldwin, now lord of Edessa. Th ereaft er
Gaston did his best to remain independent from the authority of any lord. Since his escapade in the raid on Jerusalem alongside Tancred’s small company, Gaston had decided to maintain his association with the Norman prince and set up his tents beside those of his new ally on the northern side of the city.1
Th
e question of who among the Christian princes would become ruler of Jerusalem once it had been conquered was never far from the thoughts of the senior knights. Th
e leading contender for the honour was Count Raymond of
Toulouse. If the Provençal contingent stuck together, they would probably be able to impose Raymond upon the captured city due to the fact they were the single largest regional grouping among the crusading forces. But there were signs of severe tensions among the Provençal contingent between the more loyal followers of the count and less dedicated knights, in particular the former followers of Bishop Adhémar who although stationed in the southern camp were there more to avail of the regular payments from Count Raymond’s huge war chest than out of enthusiasm for the would-be Moses. Furthermore, the great numbers of poor and non-combatant crusaders who camped with Count Raymond at Mount Zion were a law unto themselves. All in all, it was far from guaranteed that Raymond could rally everyone around him to ensure he would be the future ruler of Jerusalem.
In the northern camp, even though the composition of the crusading army was extremely diverse with many diff erent languages and regions represented, the mood was much more harmonious. Because Robert of Normandy and Robert of Flanders were anxious to fulfi l their vows and return home there was only one clear candidate for the lordship of Jerusalem: Godfrey of Lotharingia.
Of course Tancred, in his heart, aspired to rule towns, cities, principalities,
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kingdoms and eventually empires. But right now he had only about 40 knights willing to follow him and tactically he recognized the expediency of supporting Godfrey.
Gaston’s appointment, then, as commander of the siege equipment, was a strategic one that suited Godfrey’s ambitions. It was a reward for Gaston’s presence in the northern camp and it conveyed the message that having a Provençal background was no obstacle to current and future favours from the Duke of Lotharingia. As it happened the appointment was an eff ective one, Gaston proved himself a scrupulous and dedicated commander. He instituted a division of labour for the various tasks needed in the assembly of siege equipment and carefully accounted for the collection of money and its distribution. For, by contrast to the southern camp where Count Raymond funded the enterprise, there was a public collection in the northern camp in order to pay the artisans of their siege engine. Th
ese carpenters did the best they could, but their skills
were no match for the sailors and in particular their choice of timber – a type they called soliva – for the left side of the great structure was unfortunate as it showed signs of buckling under the huge weight it was supporting. 2
As the siege towers were raised up, so too was the morale of the Christian army. When the princes appealed to the women, elderly and children to leave the camp in the relatively safe direction of Bethlehem in search of pliant twigs from low bushes and shrubs they met with an enthusiastic response. With an escort of knights and a train of camels and other pack animals, the popular army roused itself from fatigue induced by thirst and set to work. Th ey piled
the branches on their animals until it was not possible to carry any more and returned to the camps, there to settle down in a bustle of activity, weaving wickerwork coverings for the siege towers and for the mantlets – large shields – that the soldiers would carry before them into battle to protect themselves from missiles.
Despite all the hardships of the journey, there were still huge numbers of non-combatants in the camps of the Christian army: not only clergy, but thousands of women and children. It was one of the most distinctive features of the crusading army of 1099 that women had gathered in their hundreds to participate, sometimes even leading popular contingents. In the main they had come with their husbands or guardians; this was especially true for the relatives of those farmers who had sold their land and had loaded what possessions they had onto carts. Th
ey came as part of extended families, young and old, setting
out together join the Holy Journey to Jerusalem. Other women, though, had set out on their own, sometimes disguised as men in order to join the Christian forces as they marched through Europe. As far as the warriors were concerned,
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such non-combatants had mostly been a burden, although everyone acknowledged the bravery of the women at Dorylaeum who brought water up to the knights under Bohemond’s command, helping them survive the long weary day holding fast in the hope of reinforcement.
Accompanying the women were so many children that they were able to form divisions of their own, with leaders named aft er the famous crusader princes: there was a child ‘Bohemond’, a ‘count of Flanders’, a ‘Hugh the Great’, a ‘count of Normandy’ and so forth. Th
is emulation was more than the medie-
val equivalent to a modern child’s adoration of a sporting star: it had a practical function. Whenever their gang members were suff ering from lack of food, the child leader would go to plead with the prince aft er whom they were named and invariably he returned with supplies for their needs. Th
e children had
fought their own battles too. With long sticks as spears and whatever missiles came to hand, they would challenge the children of the cities that the army had reached and sometimes the melees that developed between the city walls and the Christian camps were so great as to attract the attention of adults and draw them into a more lethal confl ict. 3
At Jerusalem the non-combatants now showed their worth in a massive eff ort to provide the warriors with all the wickerwork they needed. Hardly a single person was idle. When the soldiers made their next assault there would be no shortage of ladders or equipment. Th
e commoners roamed the land
around Jerusalem for miles, gathering any plant suffi
ciently fl exible and sturdy
that it could form part of the weave. Hides too, were of the utmost importance.
Fortunately for the crusaders their local supporters knew how to deal with such attacks. Th
ey urged the construction of a layer of hide skins to prevent the fi re reaching the timber beneath and that on the day of the attack these skins be soaked in vinegar; with extra casks containing vinegar stored on the siege engine to be thrown over those fi res that did break out. All the animals that had either died of thirst or otherwise killed were therefore now skinned and their hides scrapped clean in order to provide the fi rst line of protection against liquid fl ame.4
Th
is new mood of optimism among the non-combatants led them to begin to articulate their own thoughts about the conduct of the siege. Ever since their champion – the colourful visionary Peter Bartholomew – had died as a result
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of being mobbed aft er the trial by fi re, the poor had lost the main means of expressing their feelings to the nobles. But essentially the same mechanisms of communicating popular sentiment upwards remained in the form of several other visionaries who claimed to be receiving divine messages. On the whole, none of these mystics carried a great deal of authority, but that was beginning to change now as the poor were taking more seriously the prospect of an imminent assault on Jerusalem. Th
ey had two major concerns. Th
e fi rst, and one that
was shared by many foot soldiers, knights and even princes, was that aristocratic rivalry might cause such division that the army fail to act in a concerted fashion and even be defeated as a result. Th
e second was that once the city was
in their hands, the rule that had been observed ever since the failure to loot Nicea should be confi rmed and recognized: whosoever fi rst took a property and put their mark upon it would, without question, get to keep it.
In characteristic fashion, the manifestation of these ideas took the form of visions. Back in Antioch, during the outbreak of plague that followed the capture of the city by the Christian army, the most authoritative leader of the expedition and the person who most embodied the need for unity across the diverse geographical contingents, the papal legate, Bishop Adhémar of Le Puy, had died. But curiously, this was not the end of his involvement with the expedition, for several popular voices claimed that he continued to march with the crusade and off er advice. Most of those doing so were in the entourage of Count Raymond of Toulouse and were therefore considered charlatans by all those hostile to the claims of supremacy by the count. Th
e priest, Peter Desiderius,
however, was a diff erent case.
Peter Desiderius was chaplain to Isoard I, count of Die, a senior noble in the company of Raymond of Toulouse. Peter had fi rst come to the attention of the wider Provençal clergy at Antioch with a vision concerning the relics of St George. Later, at the trial of Peter Bartholomew, Peter Desiderius had spoken up on behalf of his namesake and fellow visionary, claiming that he had seen a vision of Adhémar and that the papal legate had been burned for three days in hell – although largely protected by a cloak he had once given to a poor person – for doubting the Holy Lance. But, importantly, Desiderius was not trying to ingratiate himself for the sake of patronage from Count Raymond.
Indeed outside Tripoli when the count had toyed with the idea of trying to defl ect the crusade towards an assault on the city the visionary had spoke out against the count in a very mutinous fashion.
Peter Desiderius, at Tripoli, had claimed that St Andrew had appeared to him with a message for Count Raymond. Th
e count was told to abandon all
plans other than a direct march to Jerusalem. Th
e popular enthusiasm at the
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news of this was such that the crusaders rushed on towards the Holy City without any sensible military formation and were fortunate not to encounter any Fatimid cavalry on the way. Now, at the start of July 1099, this priest who had a great deal of respect among the poor, saw Adhémar once more. In the vision the papal legate urged a fast and that the whole army walk on bare feet around the besieged city. Nine days aft er this penitential march an all-out assault was to take place that would capture Jerusalem. Rather than bring this news of Adhémar’s appearance and the promise of victory to Count Raymond, Peter Desiderius approached his immediate lord, Count Isoard I of Die and Adhémar’s brother, William Hugh of Monteil. Back at the siege of ‘Arqā, when William Hugh returned from having to fetch the cross with which his brother had been buried, it had been the former followers of Adhémar who had burned their tents in protest at the siege and abandoned the Count Raymond. It was clear that this division amongst the Provençals between those who had travelled with the count and those who had travelled with the bishop had not been resolved even as they camped together before the walls of Jerusalem. 5
Th
ose of the Provençal clergy who fi rst heard of the new vision had some advice to off er Desiderius. Th
e whole issue of whether Adhémar had truly
visited Peter Bartholomew had become too political and many – especially in the northern camp – if they learned that the message about the unifying march had supposedly come from Adhémar would dismiss the idea out of hand.
It would be much better to announce that there should be a parade around Jerusalem in a spirit of conciliation, without revealing the source of the initiative.
It would also be diplomatic to obtain the support of the Norman bishop Arnulf of Chocques and of the still popular Peter the Hermit. Th
is advice, especially
the latter part, was deeply unpalatable for Desiderius. Aft er all it was Arnulf who, at the instigation of the Norman knights, had challenged and brought to trial Peter Bartholomew. In other words, the death of his colleague could be directly attributed to Arnulf. Peter the Hermit, too, was no great friend of Desiderius. While Peter Bartholomew had reigned as the spokesperson of the poor, the Provençal visionaries had eclipsed Peter the Hermit. But now, having quietly sustained himself through the rigours of the journey and without making any claims with regard to seeing dead crusaders or saints, Peter the Hermit’s standing had grown again to the point where he was the recognized person to whom alms were given for distribution to the poor. 6
It was the crowds of poor who urged unity across the two camps and their insistence fed its way through to the lower ranks of the clergy. Peter Desiderius bowed to the prevailing mood and agreed to advocate the proposed strategy.
Th
ose Provençal clergy who were the associates of Desiderius extended the
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hand of friendship to Arnulf and clergy of the northern camp. Th
ey called a
general meeting of the whole Christian army, one that met on 6 July 1099. Th e
assembly was a great success, at least from the point of view of the poor and the clergy. Enthusiasm for the penitential march was so great that whether they liked the idea or not, no prince could dare defy the public sentiment and dismiss the idea. No one wanted to be castigated as proud and impious when these clerical speakers were raising up a storm of excitement by addressing those very themes. Harmony and modesty were the slogans of the day and all were urged to pray for the intercession of the saints in their endeavours. A fast was begun from the assembly and preparations made for the barefoot march two days later.
Th
e morning of Friday 8 July saw one of the most extraordinary sights of any medieval siege. An enormous crowd of the besieging army,
from prince to pauper, was gathered behind a panoply of religious banners, crosses and relics of saints. And everyone was barefooted. While the bishops and priests in their sacred vestments led the procession, the knights and foot soldiers remained vigilant: they were armed and ready for battle should the defenders of the city attempt a sortie. With trumpets blowing, everyone moved out of the southern camp in order to march around the city in a clockwise direction. Th ey passed
around in front of the Tower of David, travelled through the northern camp and carefully picked their way over the rugged ground of the Kidron Valley to the Mount of Olives. Th
ere, with Jerusalem spread out below, bright and
tantalizingly close, the procession stopped and once more heard how it was from this spot that Christ had ascended to heaven and it was from here, also, that the disciples had been taught the Lord’s prayer. Peter the Hermit and Arnulf of Chocques both spoke at length about the need to lay to rest the discord that had sprung up among the Christian army. As brothers in Christ they must work closely together in the battle to come.
Such a huge spirit of forgiveness and fraternity was expressed by all that even the fi erce enmity between Tancred and Count Raymond was overcome. No one could hold a grudge in the face of the overwhelming desire for unity that was being made manifest by the march and the message of the preachers.
A compromise was reached on the payment that Tancred felt was owed him and the two princes were reconciled. With a powerful belief growing throughout the Christian army that they could succeed in the capture of the Holy City they moved towards their fi nal destination, Mount Zion. Here, however, the celebratory and purposeful mood was soured by the response of the Muslim garrison of the city.7
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Naturally, the defenders of Jerusalem had been incredulous at the sight of their enemies mounting such a parade. Did they really believe they were a Holy People, acting as if God guided their destiny? Th
e Muslim warriors quickly
brought out their own standards and pennants and as the Christians slowly made their way around the city, followed them along the walls, screaming, blaring with their own horns, and performing all kinds of acts of mockery to take away the otherworldly spirit of the Christian demonstration. Crowds within the city ran through the streets to get the walls and view the extraordinary spectacle. Up on the battlements, some of the garrison made crosses, only to visibly destroy them, or worse. Th
The Siege of Jerusalem: Crusade and Conquest in 1099 Page 16
