Victory in the East
Page 23
The army had a considerable knowledge of siegecraft and we can discount Anna’s view that Alexius invented machines for them. They prosecuted the siege vigorously and suffered heavy casualties which worried the leaders; of the thirteen dead named by Anselm of Ribemont, two died in battle and three of disease during the siege of Nicaea. Albert’s mention of a common fund indicates that, although the armies in the host were grouped round several leaders, the need to cooperate was forcing organisation.66 The army must have relied on the Byzantines for supplies – wood, clamps, nails etc. and certainly it was Alexius who provided the boats which closed the Ascanian lake.67 The major problem of a besieging army, especially one this size, was food, and both Albert and Fulcher stress that Alexius sent this in good quantities, although the Anonymous remarks that some of the poor died of starvation.68 By and large the alliance had worked well in a military sense. The surrender of the city came as a surprise to the crusaders who must have sensed the intrigue from which they were excluded, but the emperor seems to have been reasonably generous in distributing the spoils of war to the westerners. Stephen of Blois tells us that Alexius sent food for the poor during the siege and agrees with Anselm of Ribemont and the Anonymous that he was subsequently very generous to the knights and princes. Only Raymond of Aguilers complains about this and his general attitude is deeply hostile to Alexius. The freeing of the Turkish garrison, however, deeply disturbed the Anonymous who feared they would later attack the Franks.69 The military value of the Byzantine alliance had been clearly demonstrated, and they prepared to march into Anatolia with an imperial contingent commanded by the Turk Tatikios.
However, this was not the only military assistance which they received. Anna reports that Alexius warned them of Turkish tactics, but he seems to have provided them with other information and ideas.70 During the siege Alexius had observed events from nearby Pelekanum and after the fall of the city he met most of the leaders, presumably to discuss strategy. It may well be that this followed up earlier discussions, of which we hear nothing. According to the Historia Belli Sacri he suggested that they send an embassy to Egypt seeking the friendship of the ‘Emir of Babylon’. It was as a consequence of this that an Egyptian embassy came to the siege of Antioch, happily at the very moment when they inflicted a heavy defeat upon the Turks at the Lake Battle in early February 1098.71 The encouraging noises made by these envoys probably exercised a considerable influence over the leaders in the summer and autumn of 1098. It was a skillful piece of diplomacy, reflecting Alexius’s intimate knowledge of the politics of the Middle East. The decay of the Abassid Caliphate in the later ninth century and the ensuing disorders enabled the dissident Shi’ites to establish a Caliphate of their own in Tunisia in 909, and from there they grasped Cairo in 969 where they set up the Fatimid Caliphate. The Fatimids sought to expand their control over Syria, but the restoration of Abassid power under the implacably Sunnite Seljuks after 1055 threatened these new conquests. In 1060 serious internal conflict broke out in Egypt amongst the diverse elements of the army which, on the pattern of the other Islamic powers, was a composite of peoples, in this case Berbers, Sudanese, Africans and Turks. By 1077 an Armenian general, Badr al-Jamali, was able to restore order but revolt and Seljuk intervention meant that Egyptian power in Syria and Palestine was confined to the cities of the coast, and by 1079 Malik Shah’s brother Tutush held Damascus and was overlord of Jerusalem, held of him by Artuk. The fragmentation of the Seljuk Sultanate after the death of Malik Shah in 1095, offered the Egyptians an opportunity to recover their lost dominion in Syria and Palestine (see fig. 3).72 Badr al-Jamali’s son al-Afdal saw the crusade as offering golden opportunities. The proliferation of tribes and powers in the Middle East meant that the precise nature of the crusaders’ interests were not perceived by the Islamic powers – they were simply another factor in a complex game, to be used, allied with as self-interest dictated. Alexius shared this mentality, and the crusader leaders were eager to capitalise.
In their discussions with Alexius at Pelekanum and before, the princes must have discussed the coming journey. Stephen of Blois did not join the other leaders at Pelekanum but he must have known of their discussions and in a letter to his wife written from Nicaea he refers to Antioch as their next target. The crusaders must have been aware from pilgrim days of the importance of this city which lay firmly across the road to Jerusalem. But they did not intend to conquer all the cities between Nicaea and Jerusalem, and Stephen’s letter holds out the possibility that, Antioch might not resist.73 This surely reflects knowledge of the situation in Syria. The death of Malik Shah in 1092 precipitated a bitter succession conflict between his brother Tutush, who held Syria, and his son Berkyaruk. When Tutush was killed in 1095 Syria was divided between his sons, Ridwan of Aleppo and Duqaq of Damascus. Malik Shah’s governor of Antioch, Yaghisiyan, was able to achieve much independence (see fig. 3). For Alexius the reconquest of Antioch was an alluring possibility. Sulayman of Nicaea had attempted to seize the lands of Philaretus in 1086 and had died at the hands of Malik Shah for his pains. The old duchy of Antioch stood between Anatolia and Syria and within striking distance of the great route centre at Melitene. It offered considerable opportunities to any power of Asia Minor. To the crusaders it was important to have it in friendly hands as they entered Syria and Palestine, the real object of their quest. Between the Byzantines and the crusaders there was a considerable community of interest.
But the crusaders appear to have been aware of other factors in the political situation of the lands they were entering. In the Taurus area there were a number of independent Armenian princes amongst whom Thoros of Edessa was very important. Oschin, who claimed to be descended from the Arsacids, held the castle of Lampron and was loyal to Alexius whom he served as governor. He seized part of Adana as the crusaders approached.74 Constantine, son of Roupen, claimed to be a descendant of the old Armenian ruling family of the Bagratids and held the fortress of Partzapert near Sis. Tatoul was at Marasch, Kogh Vasil at Raban and Gabriel at Melitene.75 These princelings throve in the complex politics of the area, playing off the Turkish emirs of neighbouring cities. It is clear that the crusader leaders had heard about them, for Matthew of Edessa says that they wrote letters to Thoros and to Constantine son of Roupen.76 It is probable that such matters were discussed with Alexius who perhaps suggested a course of action to take advantage of the situation. The Armenians had a tradition of hostility to Byzantium, as we have noted. Constantine, son of Roupen, was particularly hostile but on the other hand Oschin was friendly. Furthermore, both Gabriel of Melitene and Thoros of Edessa claimed to be imperial officials – Curopalatoi; the latter, we are told, was ‘expecting to hand it [Edessa] over to the emperor’.77 It is possible that the Armenians themselves made contact with the Franks but were this the case Alexius would surely have wanted to control subsequent events. When Tancred entered Cilicia and appeared before Tarsus in late September 1097 he was met by an Armenian, who was already known to him and had resided with him, who offered to attempt to negotiate the surrender of the city. At Nicaea Baldwin of Boulogne, Godfrey de Bouillon’s younger brother, had made the acquaintance of Bagrat, brother of Kogh Vasil of Raban. Baldwin also entered Cilicia, but on Bagrat’s urging left for Ravendan and the great adventure which eventually made him lord of Edessa.78 The hope of support from such eastern Christians was probably fed by the uprisings in the cities of Anatolia after the crusader victory at Dorylaeum, and it seems likely that it had a profound effect on crusader policy. What we have to see at this stage is that the crusaders probably knew a great deal about the lands into which they were venturing. Norman and Frankish mercenaries had long served in the Byzantine armies. Roussel of Bailleul, Crispin and, before them, Hervey had held land in the Armenian theme. William of Apulia wrote his Gesta Roberti Wiscardi as the crusaders left for the East and could give a good account of the battle of Manzikert, presumably from Norman veterans of the Byzantine service.79 So Alexius had no monopoly of information, but for th
e moment he and the Frankish leaders enjoyed a community of interest, but it was not one to which he was willing to contribute more than a few troops under Tatikios, charged with guiding the crusaders and taking over any cities they might capture. Anna’s caveat, ‘if indeed God granted them that favour’, probably reflected Alexius’s thinking. He would take what profit he could without heavy commitment, for there was much danger ahead for the expedition. They were not venturing into the unknown, merely into a dangerous hinterland that had been Turkish now for a generation.
The crusader leaders acted quickly. Nicaea fell on 19 June. On 26 June the first contingents left Nicaea, amongst them the Normans of South Italy. Various groups left subsequently, the last being the Provençals on 28 June and the army gathered at a place where there was a bridge, which Anna Comnena identifies as Lefke, about twenty-five kilometres east of Nicaea. A number of crusaders had stayed behind at Nicaea and took service with the emperor, while Anselm of Ribemont was sent to the imperial court by the leaders in order to settle outstanding business.80 They had already decided to go to Antioch, so necessarily they had to direct their path towards the old Byzantine fortress at Dorylaeum (Eskişehir) which was the gateway to the Anatolian plateau. The sources are quite clear that in the two days of march after the concentration of the army they broke into two groups, a vanguard and a main force. Raymond of Aguilers says that this happened after one day’s march, which suggests that the Provençals had left Nicaea a day later than the first contingents. We know how they divided; the vanguard was led by Bohemond, Tancred, Robert of Normandy and Stephen of Blois, probably fewer than 20,000 in all. The second, larger force, comprising the rest of the army was under Robert of Flanders, Hugh of Vermandois, Godfrey de Bouillon and Raymond of Toulouse, – rather more than 30,000 strong.81 It is more difficult to suggest why this happened. Fulcher, who was in the vanguard, simply confesses that he does not know; the Anonymous says there was confusion in the dark as the army left its place of concentration, while Raymond of Aguilers says that it was the fault of Bohemond and his companions who rushed on rashly (temere). Albert of Aix says that it was the result of a deliberate decision of the princes who after two days of marching the army together, now felt the need to divide it for foraging. Ralph of Caen tells us that some thought the division deliberate, and specifically denies this, which suggests that even after the crusade the matter was still being debated. It is likely that sheer size and the lack of any overall commander were the real reasons. The army of Frederick Barbarossa on the Third Crusade was 100,000 strong and seems to have taken three days to pass any single point. The sources for the battle of Dorylaeum make clear that most of the casualties were suffered by stragglers between the two forces, which would suggest that the host became strung out simply as a result of the natural frictions of the march.82 The disagreements and uncertainty of the three eyewitnesses – Raymond with the main force, Fulcher and the Anonymous with the vanguard, support this view. It also reflects the incoherence of the crusade’s command arrangements. It is worth remembering that the baggage train of Peter the Hermit’s much smaller force straggled a mile along the road and that the crusader army at its maximum strength was well over twice that size. But perhaps the leaders conferred at some point and gave their blessing to a division already becoming apparent. At the time of the battle Raymond of Aguilers says quite clearly that the two parts of the army were two miles apart – over five kilometres.83
The crusaders had now begun a march which would result in what is conventionally called the battle of Dorylaeum, for Anna Comnena says that it took place when Kilij Arslan ambushed Bohemond and the vanguard ‘on the plain of Dorylaeum’. In a letter of the leaders to the West on 11 September 1098, they referred to the battle at ‘Dorotilla’ which sounds very like the same place. One manuscript of the chronicle of Raymond of Aguilers refers to the battle ‘in campo florido’. Albert says that the battle took place ‘in vallem Degorganhi’, now called the Orellis, but later has Bohemond’s messenger to the other leaders say that the enemy attacked down the Orellis into the Degorganhi: neither of these place names can be identified and Albert does later use the name Orellis to mean somewhere quite different.84 However, there are grave difficulties about the idea that the battle was fought at or near Dorylaeum. The Anonymous says that the army marched one day from Nicaea and encamped for two days by a bridge while all the contingents gathered, then marched for two days until the battle on the third day. Raymond of Aguilers says that on the third day after the concentration of the army they met the enemy. Anselm says that after a two day march they encountered the enemy on the morning of the third day which was ‘kal. Iulii’, 1 July; Fulcher confirms the date and confirms that the battle began in the morning.85 Thus the crusade began to leave Nicaea on 26 June and concentrated at a river crossing, from which it departed on 29 June. It then marched for two days and fought the enemy in the morning of 1 July. When we examine the distances and the likely rates of march of the crusader army it is evident that they could not have reached the close vicinity of Dorylaeum in this time. Anna Comnena says that the army concentrated at the bridge of Lefke, which probably means the bridge over the Göksu, a western tributary of the Sakarya Nehri. Nicaea to Lefke on the Roman road is twenty-five kilometres, and Dorylaeum another ninety kilometres. If, as has been suggested, the army marched south to the Göksu and crossed it in the vicinity of Yenişhehir (a distance of thirty kilometres) they still had to cover roughly the same distance to Dorylaeum. A study of the rates of march of the individual armies across Europe to Constantinople suggests that, in the most favourable circumstances, the forces of Godfrey and Peter the Hermit never did more than twenty-nine kilometres per day. The army which left Nicaea was much larger and lacked a clear overall command and is likely to have progressed much more slowly. Barbarossa’s army probably managed about twenty-nine kilometres per day in Europe.86 Even at these rates the army would have been about thirty kilometres short of Dorylaeum after two days of marching, but they were probably moving much more slowly for they were in the presence of the enemy and encumbered with a heavy baggage-train. We can reasonably accurately date the departure of the army from Dorylaeum and its arrival at Antioch as being 4 July to 20 October. In 105 days of marching (with fifteen days of rest) they travelled 1180 kilometres, an average of thirteen kilometres per day which the Chronologie of Hagenmeyer suggests varied between eight and eighteen kilometres. There is no point in seeking comparison with events after Antioch when the army was much smaller. Furthermore, the crusaders knew the enemy were about and this would have restricted their speed, even if the vanguard did push on somewhat. All this suggests that the battle could not have taken place more than forty kilometres, or just conceivably fifty kilometres, south of Lefke or the Göksu crossing. Hagenmeyer recognised the problem and suggested Bozüyük just over fifty kilometres south of Lefke and about the same from Yenişhehir. This is probably as far as the army could conceivably have reached and it certainly could be regarded as being in the valley of Dorylaeum, as suggested by the letter of the leaders. Runciman points out that a Byzantine road runs further north through Sögüt and enters the plain ten kilometres short of Dorylaeum, where he thinks the battle took place. However, as Runciman admits, although this road does cross rivers, the countryside was very steep indeed and this probably rules out any of these crossings. But more simply, this was most certainly further than the army could have reached.87 What is clear is that the battle took place in a wide valley, for Albert says that Bohemond’s force was well to the right of the main force as well as ahead of it. Moreover, there was a river, for Albert mentions streams and Ralph of Caen, whose description is detailed, says that it was fought after a river crossing. William of Tyre follows Albert for the most part but with some variations. He says that the army followed a river in the valley of Gorgoni, and that the main force was to the right of Bohemond’s, reversing Albert’s statement.88 Albert’s account of a battle fought where two valleys join, taken together with Raymond�
�s mention of the ‘flowered field’ and the general description of the battle, suggests that it was fought in open land on the road towards Dorylaeum, and the comments of Albert and Ralph indicate not far from a river crossing or crossings, although these played no role in the major action. In fact to understand the battle we need to understand fully the circumstances in which the army found itself, the country and its road system.