Originally published in issue 28 of Aspects of History Magazine
By 1095 the Byzantine Empire was in a desperate state. Decades of political intrigue and civil war had drastically weakened its institutions and drained its coffers. For many years it had also been assailed from all sides by Pecheneg tribes, Norman adventurers and, most particularly, Turkish armies. By this point, the Islamic Turks had taken much of the land that had been part of the empire including the region known as the Holy Land that included the holy cities of Antioch and Jerusalem.
With the future of the empire in great jeopardy, Emperor Alexios Komnenos reached out across the schism between the eastern and western Christian churches and asked for the help of Pope Urban II, citing the dangers that pilgrims now faced in the Holy Land as a motivation for the western Christians to come to the aid of their eastern brethren.
This call for help led to Pope Urban preaching a sermon at Clermont in November 1095 in which he called for an army to be raised to liberate the Holy Land. Crusade fever swept across Europe and people from all over Christendom took an oath to reach Jerusalem and take it back from the infidels.
Alexios had probably expected to be sent a small force of mercenaries to help combat the Turks. What he got instead was a vast horde of soldiers, pilgrims, and camp followers, many of whom had brought their families with them on the holy mission.
The emperor must truly have been alarmed when the so-called ‘People’s Crusade’ arrived first. This host was largely made up of peasants led by the charismatic preacher, Peter the Hermit. At Peter’s side were some noted soldiers, including the murderous knight William the Carpenter, but they lacked any major leaders and they were a rabble. They had traveled across Europe, massacring populations of Jews as they went, and getting into a battle against the Christian Hungarians who should have been their allies, before finally arriving in Constantinople. Wisely, Alexios moved them on quickly from the capital and many of them were slaughtered in a failed attempt to capture the Turkish capital of Nicaea.
The arrival of the main crusading armies followed shortly after this fiasco. These were armies led by major western noblemen who were possessed of both the manpower and organization that Alexios needed.
Pope Urban had appointed the Bishop of Le Puy, Adhemar, as the spiritual leader of the crusade but he had not appointed a secular leader which was to prove a grave mistake. Instead, a number of powerful magnates each led their own forces and formed an uneasy alliance under the mediation of Adhemar. These ‘princes’ all had their own motivations, and their competing ambitions would create tension and rivalries that threatened the whole project.
Ultimately the First Crusade was a success; Jerusalem was captured. But some of these princes enjoyed more success than others. Some were big winners, others finished with nothing more than the renown of having been a crusader. For one, the trip was a disaster.
This council of princes included Count Raymond of Toulouse, Bohemond of Taranto, Godfrey of Bouillon, Duke Robert of Normandy (son of William the Conqueror), Duke Robert of Flanders, and Stephen of Blois (son-in-law of William the Conqueror).
The motivations of these men ranged from genuine, pious devotion and the wish to serve God, to the absolute naked ambition to grab land for themselves and create their own Kingdoms.
Count Raymond of Toulouse was the most senior of these noblemen, both in age and rank. The speed with which he vowed to join the crusade suggests that he was forewarned of the plan by the Pope. He thought of himself as the natural leader of the expedition but seems to have comprehensively failed to convince the others that this was the case.
Raymond’s biggest rival was Bohemond of Taranto. Bohemond was a scion of the Hauteville family. The Hautevilles were a Norman dynasty who had spent the better part of the 11th century seizing parts of Italy that had previously been part of the Byzantine empire. Throughout his early life, Bohemond had repeatedly invaded other parts of the Byzantine empire with his father, Robert ‘the weasel’ Guiscard. His appearance in Constantinople at the head of an army cannot have been a welcome sight for Alexios.
Bohemond was a giant (his name is a nickname given to him by his father and translates as ‘Behemoth’) and the primary sources of the era, such as the Alexiad that was written by Alexios’ daughter, paint him as a darkly charismatic man. He was also a very effective war leader who led his army to victory against much larger Muslim forces throughout the crusade.
Godfrey of Bouillon was known as a great warrior and was respected for his extreme piety and devotion to God. Robert of Normandy seems to also have been motivated by a genuine sense of a holy mission. Contemporary sources from the era are mainly critical of Robert for being too nice, in stark contrast to his utterly ruthless father and his brother (King William Rufus of England). To fund his crusade, Robert mortgaged his own duchy to his brother which cannot have been a decision he took lightly as the relationship between the brothers had always been difficult and, often, outright warlike.
The motivation of Stephen of Blois and Robert of Flanders must presumably have also been to serve the Pope and God as both men left behind rich and potentially vulnerable lands to join a mission that was to be full of risk with no guarantee of enrichment.
The crusading princes promised to return any land they took to Alexios. However, Alexios did not join the crusade and this failure to join the crusade quickly caused a rift to develop between the crusaders and the emperor. Some of the princes saw this as a failure in his duties as their notional overlord and, as such, it released them from obligations to him.
In 1097 and 1098, the crusading army spent many months besieging the fortress city of Antioch without success. There was still no sign that Alexios was coming to assist them. Instead, another Muslim army was approaching that threatened crush the crusade against the city walls.
Unbeknownst to the other princes, Bohemond had made contact with a disaffected commander inside the city. He made the other princes agree that, if any one of them could capture the city, that prince would keep control of the city. In their desperate situation the other princes agreed, all except for Raymond who seems to have been particularly irked by Bohemond’s obvious ambition to take the land for himself, as well as the betrayal of his oath to give the city back to Alexios.
Bohemond’s plan worked and the city was taken. His men took possession of most of Antioch, except for a stretch of wall that Raymond claimed control of and refused to relinquish.
Although they had now captured the city, they were soon under siege themselves from the approaching Muslim army. What happened next is both bizarre and fascinating. An obscure monk called Peter Bartholomew claimed to have had a vision from St Andrew telling him where the Holy Lance (the spear that had pierced the side of Christ on the cross) was buried. A piece of metal was duly uncovered, buried in the city’s cathedral.
A cult around the lance quickly grew up and, whether due to genuine faith or a cynical ploy to win favour with the army, Raymond became the cult’s greatest champion. The lance was carried by his chaplain into battle against the besieging Muslim army and a famous victory was won and so the siege was lifted. Raymond’s stock was running high yet the stalemate between him and Bohemond persisted. The situation was worsened because Adhemar had died of a fever and so the princes no longer had his emollient influence.
The way to Jerusalem was open and the army was growing restless. But Bohemond was happy with Antioch and had no interest in moving on, and Raymond refused to move on and leave the city in Bohemond’s hands. So, the army languished.
People then began to doubt the Holy Lance. Outraged, Peter Bartholomew decided he would submit himself to a trial by fire to prove that the Holy Lance was genuine. Predictably, he was burned to death in the ensuing ordeal and Raymond, as the leading proponent of the Holy Lance, was now humiliated for his credulity.
Once again in need of the army’s favour, Raymond decided now to advance on Jerusalem. Bohemond stayed in Antioch and thus achieved what he had wanted all along – a territory of his own.
Raymond was now positioned to be the hero of the crusade and lead the capture of Jerusalem. This was achieved after a short siege and so a new ruler of the city needed to be appointed. Raymond, of course, volunteered for the position, but it perhaps speaks of how the other princes viewed him that they voted for Godfrey of Bouillon instead. Too pious to take the title of ‘King of Jerusalem’, Godfrey adopted the title ‘Advocate of the Holy Sepulchre’ whilst Raymond slunk back to Constantinople. On his way, he paused to capture some territory from Bohemond in an act that looks to be driven mainly by spite.
Of the others, the two Roberts finished up more or less where they had begun although their prolonged absence cost them both in different ways. Robert of Normandy had fallen in love on his way to the crusade and took the lady as his wife on his way home. He resumed control of Normandy but, in his absence, King William Rufus had died and Robert had missed his opportunity to become the king of England, the title instead going to his younger brother, Henry. Robert of Flanders returned to find that the Holy Roman Emperor had tried to capture his lands whilst he was away but had failed. In response, Robert allied with the emperor’s enemies and had to go straight back to war.
Stephen of Blois is arguably the biggest loser of the group. He lost his nerve at Antioch and retreated the day before Bohemond enacted his plan to take the city. Not only did he abandon the crusade but, on his way back, he convinced Alexios, who was now finally on his way to support the western armies, that there was no way the crusaders could win, so Alexios headed home.
Whilst the other crusaders returned home in a state of glory, Stephen returned in a state of disgrace. His wife, Adela (daughter of William the Conqueror), was so ashamed of him that she insisted he return to the Holy Land to fulfill his vow. There, he was captured and beheaded in 1102.
However, the biggest winner is none of these princes. This honour must go to a knight named Baldwin. He was the youngest son of the Count of Boulogne and brother of Godfrey of Bouillon. In a world or primogeniture, Baldwin’s prospects were limited. Clearly a man of ambition, Baldwin decided to peel away from the main crusading force and forge his own path. He took a number of towns and, ultimately, seized the major town of Edessa. He ruled then as the Count of Edessa until the death of his brother, Godfrey, in 1100.
In need of a new ruler, the obvious choice to take control of Jerusalem was probably Bohemond but, at that moment, the giant Norman was a captive of the Turks. Not one to miss an opportunity, Baldwin marched on Jerusalem himself and there was crowned king, clearly lacking the scruples that stopped his brother taking that title. And so, Baldwin completed a transition from obscure youngest son of a French nobleman to the King of the holiest city in Christendom, a journey that took him just four years.