ere was at least one
long-established bishop present among them, one with an illustrious lineage –
a member of the Staufen family and brother to Frederick I of Swabia – and considerable experience: Otto, who had been bishop of Strasburg since 1082.
But Otto was an ‘imperialist’ in the sense that he had taken the side of the Emperor Henry IV in a famous dispute with Pope Gregory VII that had raged through Europe, leading to civil wars and schism within the church. Otto had
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come on the pilgrimage as an act of penitence and reconciliation, but he was certainly not going to fi ght for a theocratic style of rulership at Jerusalem.
Indeed, on his return to Strasburg, the church reform party found him little changed. One of them wrote an obituary for Otto, who died in 1100: ‘the schismatic Otto of Strasburg, having returned from the journey to Jerusalem, but, it was believed, still with his schism uncorrected, reached the end of his life. ’10
Among the more credible advocates of the rights of the church and one who might well have been willing to stand up to the princes at Jerusalem, was William, bishop of Orange. William had stepped into Adhémar’s role as best as he could, although he was eclipsed by the agitation of the popular visionary Peter Bartholomew. William certainly had the potential to become an important leader of the clergy, but he died in December 1098 at Ma’arra, leaving Peter of Narbonne, the recently created bishop of Albara, as the head of those who believed in the primacy of church authority over the Holy City. A priest at the outset of the pilgrimage, Peter had only been appointed to his bishopric during the course of the crusade by the infl uence of Count Raymond and had lost Albara, the base of his temporal power, when the Raymond had ordered Peter to bring his garrison and accompany the expedition on the march to Jerusalem.
Despite his lack of experience and followers, Peter of Narbonne tried his best to act as an advocate of the reform minded clergy, who were, aft er all, the largest faction of those churchmen who had undertaken the pilgrimage. Peter interrupted the discussion of the princes saying that ‘since spiritual matters proceed temporal ones, righteous and proper procedure demands that you fi rst elect a spiritual leader and aft er that elect a secular ruler; and if you do not we shall not recognize your choice.’ Th
e princes were not impressed, meeting this
intervention with shouts of anger and replied that it had made them all the more determined to reach a decision about the rule of Jerusalem straight away.
Th
e clergy were ushered out and the secular nobles of the Christian army returned to their deliberations. For all the spiritual goals of the expedition, the secular princes were not going to be swayed from establishing a political structure they were used to, one with a liege lord at the head of society. 11
Who were the main candidates for the lordship of Jerusalem? Of those who commanded sizeable numbers of knights, there were only really two prospective rulers: Count Raymond of Toulouse and Godfrey of Lotharingia. Count Robert of Flanders and Duke Robert of Normandy had a great number of followers; they had a distinguished lineage and – with the exception of Robert of Normandy’s propensity to prefer the good life to arduous sieges – had also proven themselves as worthy leaders during the sieges and battles of the crusade.
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If either of them had been interested in remaining in the Holy Land, they would certainly have been in contention to take power at Jerusalem. Behind the scenes, the more senior Norman nobles and clergy suggested to the duke that he should consider vying for the position. But neither Robert of Normandy nor the Robert of Flanders were interested. As soon as they could, the duke and the count intended to return home, where they planned to resume their rule over substantial and wealthy lands.
Duke Godfrey, on the other hand, had nothing to go back for. Before setting out from Bouillon, Godfrey had come to terms with his local enemies and abandoned a prolonged struggle to defend his inheritance. Richer, the bishop of Verdun, obtained the county of Verdun and the towns of Stenay and Mouzay for a great sum of coin. Th
is agreement also included a clause that Godfrey
destroy his castle at Montfaucon. Th
e abbey of St Gertrude at Nivelles bought
Godfrey’s personal lands at Baisy and Genappe while Bishop Otbert of Liége got the core territories of Rheims and the castle of Bouillon itself. Godfrey had no intention of returning to Lotharingia: he had staked his future on this expedition. Th
e large funds Godfrey had garnered from the sale of his lands at
least guaranteed that he came on the crusade with a sizeable army and the resources to support them. Indeed, as the demands of the march had sapped the wealth and supplies of other Lotharingian nobles, they became more and more dependent on Godfrey. Henry of Esch and Hartmann, count of Dillingen and Kyburg each had had considerable resources, enough to fi nance the building of a siege engine at Nicea at their own expense. Th
ey were so destitute by
the siege of Antioch, however, that they survived on a stipend of bread, meat and fi sh from Duke Godfrey. Hartmann was obliged to enter battle against Kerbogha on a donkey, holding only a Turkish round shield and sword, having sold all his arms and weapons a long time earlier.12
As far as the neutrals were concerned, the Lotharingian Duke had won a great deal of respect by his conduct throughout the expedition. Godfrey’s feat in cleaving a Muslim rider entirely into two parts was one of the most famous episodes of the whole crusade. It had been noted too that during the assault on Jerusalem, and at great personal risk, Godfrey had directed his troops from the top of the siege tower and had been among the very fi rst of the conquerors to enter the city. He was famous, furthermore, for one other incident.
On the journey towards Antioch, aft er the army had survived the hardship of the terrain of the high Anatolian plains, they had come to a fertile region with great woods full of game. Having made camp in a pleasant meadow, the Christian nobles rushed out to enjoy their favourite pastime: the hunt. Young hounds bounded along forest paths and as they followed the scent of a variety
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of beasts, Godfrey’s knights became dispersed. Somewhat apart from his men, the duke heard screams and rode towards a thicket where he discovered a lowly member of the Christian army running for his life from an enormous bear.
At once Godfrey spurred on his horse and drew his sword. Th
e bear turned to
this new threat with equal energy and met the duke at full height, bounding into horse and rider with claws raised and jaw opened wide. A huge roaring bellow resounded through the forest. Th
e bear threw Godfrey from his mount
with a blow of its arm at the same time as it tore open the horse’s throat with its teeth. Later Godfrey was to say that he was convinced his death was upon him and an ignoble one too. But his luck was in, the bear’s attention was on the horse and Godfrey was able to spring to his feet.
Th
e duke now received the worst wound he was to obtain on the whole expedition and a near fatal one at that. It was self-infl icted. His sword had become entangled in with his legs and in his panic Godfrey pulled it free at the cost of a deep wound to his calf. Blood began to spurt from his leg as he stabbed at the bear, his life ebbing away. Fortunately one of Godfrey’s knights, Husechin, had been riding as fast as he could towards the source of the great roaring noises and – instantly appraising the situation – he jumped from his horse to run in to pierce the bear through its liver and ribs. Between them, the two knights fi nally overcame the ferocious beast, before Godfrey sank to the ground, pale with loss of blood. Almost disastrous at the time, ultimately this encounter between Godfrey and the bear was to do the duke no harm. Long aft er his wound had healed the story was being told of how the duke had come
to the aid of a poor Christian and slain a monster. Th
e fact that he had nearly
died as a result of slicing open his own leg was forgotten.13
For all Godfrey’s personal achievements, he fell short of his main rival in one crucial respect. Count Raymond had the single largest following of knights and a great deal of wealth. Looked at from a purely military perspective it was the Provençal count who would make the better ruler of Jerusalem because he would be the more able to defend the city. Like Godfrey, Raymond had retired from political life in his home territories before setting out on the crusade.
He had assigned his holdings in Rouergue, Viviers, Digne and Avignon to his son, Bertrand, who in 1095 had made a valuable political marriage to Helen of Burgundy and appeared to be in a secure position to govern in his own right.
Taking with him his third wife, Elvira, daughter of Alfonso VI, king of Leon and Castille, the elderly count had no strong motive for returning to Toulouse when the prospect of a glorious career in the Holy Land was available to him.
From the very beginning of Pope Urban II’s eff orts to raise a Christian army to go east, Count Raymond had seen himself as the person to lead it.
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Th
at ambition had been checked by fact that so many princes and knights had taken up the idea of crusade that it was impossible to control. Who, indeed, could command a fi ercely independent fi gure like Bohemond, or the famous Robert of Normandy? But as soon as Bohemond had abandoned the expedition in favour of becoming ruler of Antioch and the other princes showed signs of faltering in their desire to reach Jerusalem, Count Raymond had tried to assert himself as overall commander. At a council of the princes willing to march south at Chastel-Rouge on 4 January 1099, part way between Antioch and the recently captured town of Ma’arra, Count Raymond off ered Duke Godfrey and Robert of Normandy 10,000 solidi each to join his following; Robert of Flanders 6,000; Tancred 5,000; and smaller amounts proportionate to the strength of other leaders. Th
e off er was rejected, but the authority of the
count was not lost on the emir of Tripoli, who favoured Raymond above all others with lucrative payments in the hope of defl ecting the Christian army away from his territories and, if possible, against his enemies.14
Raymond did not have a reputation for bravery. In fact rather the opposite was the case: due to a protracted illness at the siege of Antioch, the belief spread that the count’s behaviour fell far short of that expected of him. But there was no doubting the piety of the count. Nor could it be denied that Raymond had the favour of Adhémar, with whom he had travelled and fought from the very beginning. Aft er the death of the legate, Raymond had obtained the support of all of Adhémar’s followers and it was this accretion of strength in particular that now made him the strongest candidate for the rule of Jerusalem. In recognition of this, the princes off ered Raymond the crown.15
Th
is was not the generous off er it appeared to be. While the princes had faced down the clergy and disabused them of the notion that a Patriarch would govern Jerusalem, they could not carry the army with them in the notion that the new secular ruler would be ‘king’ of the city. Th
e popular feeling and one
that had to be taken into account, was that it would insult Christ, who had been obliged to wear a crown of thorns in this place, for one of his followers to proudly don a crown of gold. Had Raymond accepted the initial off er and attempted to set himself up as a king, there would have been roars of outrage and his already mutinous Provençal army might have deserted him; particularly those who had set off under the leadership of Adhémar.
Not only did Raymond have to deal with the problem of the title, but also the whole nature of elections at this time were fraught with subtle manoeuvres.
Th
e most important feature of an election – whether of pope, bishop, abbot or king – was that it was considered a religious experience. Th
e will of God was
made manifest by the result. In this spiritual context, for a candidate to be too
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eager for the position was to fail to show the virtues of humility and worse, to veer towards the sin of lust. Candidates were expected to have the title thrust upon them, against their own resistance. Th
e most famous reforming pope of
the era, Gregory VII, described his election to the papacy in 1073 as follows:
‘suddenly . . . there arouse a great tumult and noise among the people and they threw themselves upon me like madmen.’ Much as he felt himself unworthy, the inspired crowds raised him to the papal throne in a model of how divine will was coupled to popular enthusiasm. 16
Th
is ethos also worked to prevent Raymond from being able to accept the fi rst off er put to him. He had to publicly demonstrate his lack of pride and be compelled by popular demand to overcome his modesty and humbly take up the responsibility. Th
erefore Raymond had to pass in the fi rst round, relying on
his supporters to stir up a wave of enthusiasm that could safely bring him to power at a later stage of the discussions. In a very humble speech declining the off er, Raymond confessed that he shuddered at the thought of anyone taking the name of ‘king’ in Jerusalem but perhaps it was more palatable to another. 17
If Raymond was relying on a popular movement to move matters in his favour, he was bitterly disappointed. While the senior nobles were deliberating in council, Raymond’s candidacy had been undermined, not by the Lotharingians or Normans, but soldiers from among his own Provençal forces, anxious to return to Languedoc. Th
roughout the streets of the city – where popular gatherings
discussed the happenings of the princes – these soldiers had spread malicious rumours about Raymond’s character and raised the temperature of public feeling to such a pitch that far from being able to take control of the city, Raymond was constrained by the threat of widespread opposition to his candidacy to demur at the initial off er.18
Naturally, Duke Godfrey was next off ered the title and Godfrey was in a much more favourable position to accept than Raymond. First, the crowds held him in much higher esteem than they did the Provençal count; secondly, since Godfrey had not expressed any opposition to the title being fi rst off ered to Raymond, he could not be accused of being greedy for the crown; and thirdly –
and quite decisively – Godfrey accepted the role of ruler of the city, but astutely declined the contentious title of king. Instead he would be prince and defender of Jerusalem. Th
e elderly count was defeated by his own unpopularity and a
quite brilliant accommodation by the Lotharingians to the sensibility of the Christian army; one that conceded the symbolism of the crown but retained the substance of political power.
No sooner had Godfrey been proclaimed as ‘Prince of Jerusalem’ than he moved swift ly to consolidate his position: all displays of reluctance now
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abandoned in favour of decisive measures to ensure military control of the city. Rallying the Roberts, Gaston, Tancred and several other princes to his side, Godfrey insisted that the Tower of David be surrendered to him. Raymond, already furious with the having the rulership of Jerusalem slip through his fi ngers, absolutely refused to concede the strategically important fortifi cation.
A spiritual excuse was off ered by way of explanation for this stubbornness, with the count saying that he needed the tower to ensure that he and his men were treated properly while they waited at the Holy City for Easter, that most celebrated day of the medieval Christian calendar. But this pretext did nothing to hide the fact that the Christian victors were rapidly falling apart.19
Once more those Provençals anxious to leave the Holy Land abandoned the count and undermined his attempt to portray the
Lotharingians as a threat to their ability to stay in Jerusalem safely until Easter. Th
ey obliged Raymond to
put the issue of the Tower of David before the Bishop of Albara for judgement.
Despite the fact that Peter of Narbonne had been Raymond’s appointee to the see, Peter promptly gave the citadel over to Godfrey, now undisputed ruler of the city. It later transpired that it was the dissident Provençal knights who came to Peter with their weapons drawn and insisted he hand over the keys to the tower. 20
Once the city was secured against his rival – on 25 July 1099 – Godfrey dispatched Tancred and Eustace to Nablus. Th
e relationship between Tancred and
Godfrey was becoming a fi rm one. When he fi rst left his uncle, Bohemond, at Antioch, Tancred had brought his 40 knights to the following of Count Raymond for a payment of 5,000 solidi and two fi ne horses. Soon chaffi ng at
his relationship with Count Raymond and claiming that he had not been paid, Tancred abandoned Raymond for the less imposing authority of Duke Godfrey, whilst clearly keeping an eye on his own prospects. Th
e fact that
Godfrey was now ruler of Jerusalem and had tactfully supported the young prince – both in his acquisition of a great treasure and in gaining the lordship of Bethlehem – earned him Tancred’s loyalty. And a valuable loyalty it was too, 80 knights willing to stay and campaign in the vicinity of Jerusalem were very precious given the certainty that in time the other princes would leave the region.
When Tancred and Eustace had conducted their raid on Nablus, in the days before the fi nal assault on Jerusalem began, they had noticed how poorly defended the city was. No garrison of Muslim cavalry had come to contest them for the herds they had stolen. So on the 25 July they rode out with their knights and a sizeable body of foot soldiers to demand its surrender in the name of the new ruler at Jerusalem. Th
The Siege of Jerusalem: Crusade and Conquest in 1099 Page 23
