77 Chapter 6: The Lords of War

Christians, hasten to help your brothers in the East, for they are being attacked. Arm for the rescue of Jerusalem under your captain Christ. Wear his cross as your badge. If you are killed your sins will be pardoned.

-Urban II, as quoted in the Chronicle of Fulcher of Chartres

Oh, how much grief there was! How many sighs! How much sorrow! How much weeping among loved ones when the husband left his wife so dear to him, as well as his children, father and mother, brothers and grandparents, and possessions however great! But however so many tears those remaining shed for those going, these were not swayed by such tears from leaving all that they possessed; without doubt believing that they would receive an hundredfold what the Lord promised to those loving him.

-Chronicle of Fulcher of Chartres [Quotes read by The History of China Podcast]

Pope Urban II’s declaration of holy war did not have any accompanying plan. Far from it; His Holiness did not even call for a single war. His aim was to initiate continual struggle against the forces of Islam, primarily, but not exclusively, for control of the Holy Land. He had no path for the armed pilgrims to follow, no organizational structure to propose, not even an overall strategy. Urban II called for and justified war in the east, that was it. In the aftermath of his preaching it was up to the faithful to decide how to fulfill his vision.

In the immediate aftermath of the Council of Clermont some knights left their homelands as individuals or formed small bands and traveled east to serve as mercenaries in the Byzantine’s service. Yet, many could not afford food, lodging and transportation. Furthermore, it was a long and sometimes dangerous road from France to Constantinople. Thus, the majority of the armed pilgrims joined one of seven armies, each one raised by a great magnate. These seven armies formed the Christian forces that battled for God and Jerusalem. The seven great lords became the leaders of the holy war and are effectively the protagonists, though not necessarily the heroes, of our story.

The first of the great lords was Hugues, Count of Vermandois. Born in 1057, Hugues was the youngest surviving son of King Henri I and Anne of Kyiv. Hugues’ older brother by five years, Philippe I, inherited the throne. As the king’s brother, Hugues lived in luxury and honor, but with no sizeable lands, titles or power of his own, Hugues’ importance entirely depended on his royal relations. However, fate turned in Hugues’ favor when in 1077 the lesser nobility of Vermandois deposed Count Odo, due to his debilitating mental issues. Three years later, Hugues married Odo’s sister, Adelaide. The marriage brought with it the County of Vermandois, making Hugues a powerful lord in his own right.

In 1094 the pope excommunicated Philippe I for his unlawful dismissal of one wife for another. The following year Urban II reaffirmed the judgement and declared the holy war. This situation was hugely embarrassing and problematic for the House of Capet. The French-born Bishop of Rome had returned to his homeland because he believed that his numerous and martial brethren would deliver the Holy Land from heretics. Yet, his country’s king could not join this all-important endeavor as he was officially excised from the Christian community. While the Capetians had ruled for a century by this point, they were relatively weak kings, who boasted little power outside the north. Derided as usurpers and consistently challenged by their own vassals, this was yet another blow to a dynasty looking to solidify its grasp over the country it claimed to rule.

His family’s disgrace was Hugues’ opportunity. His whole life Hugues had lived in his brother’s shadow. He was not particularly wealthy, pious, or militarily accomplished. Yet, in 1095 the honor of House Capet was at stake. With his brother religiously incapacitated, it was Hugues’ duty to carry the banner of his house in this most holy mission. If Philippe I had a crown, Hugues had a cross. At 39 years old, Hugues raised an army with money from the royal coffers and left for the east. Ostensibly departing in the service of Christ, Hugues also desired to bring honor to his house and glory for himself.

The second great lord was Godefroy of Bouillon. Godefroy was born around 1060. Like Hugues, he was also a younger son, though his father was far less important than a king. Said father was Eustache II, Count of Boulogne, who passed on his county to his firstborn, Eustache III. As with Hugues, another’s misfortune became Godefroy’s source of power. Godefroy’s uncle, Godefroy the Hunchback, was Duke of Lower Lorraine, an important territory in the Holy Roman Empire that bordered France. This great magnate further married the wealthy and illustrious Matilda of Tuscany. Yet, like any great power couple, their relationship could not last. Two years after the wedding ceremony, their marriage fell apart over the Investiture Controversy. As a northern lord, the Hunchback had little choice but to side with his Emperor, while Matila firmly supported the Pope. In 1076, while campaigning in Holland, the Hunchback stepped outside the camp to relieve himself and was speared to death by an unknown assassin. Before his untimely death, the Hunchback had named his nephew heir to his land and titles. In short order, Godefroy ascended from the ranks of the lesser French nobility to become one of the most powerful dukes within the Holy Roman Empire.

Or at least, he was supposed to. Heinrich IV, King of Germany, seized the bulk of the duchy and placed it under the control of Albert III, count of Namur, who was to rule it until Heinrich IV’s son Konrad II came of age. The German king’s theft meant that Godefroy was left with just Bouillon and Antwerp.

One might reasonably suspect that this 18 year-old would be embittered by Heinrich IV’s actions. Yet, Godefroy was cunning even in his youth and well understood how to play the political game. When the Investiture Controversy split the Holy Roman Empire, Godefroy sided with the King of Germany. In February 1084 Godefroy marched south with Heinrich IV as the Germans invaded the Papal States. For Heinrich IV it was a glorious affair: he forced Pope Gregory VII and what few loyalists remained to take refuge in the Castel Sant'Angelo. Meanwhile Heinrich IV elevated his own pope, Clement III, who crowned him Holy Roman Emperor. For Godefroy the venture was a trial, one which nearly took his life when he fell gravely ill, possibly of typhus. Yet, Godefroy survived and returned to Germany with the Emperor.

If typhus failed to kill the young noble, his family and neighbors decided to take a stab at it; or him, as the case may be. With Germany in the midst of a civil war known as The Great Saxon Revolt, Albert III Count of Namur decided to gobble up Godefroy’s territory. The Count staked his claim on an alliance he made with Godefroy’s aunt, Matilda of Tuscany, who argued that her late husband did not have the right to give away the territory. Godefroy, with the aid of his brothers Eustache II and Baudouin, bested Albert III. In 1087, with the Saxon revolt coming to an end, Heinrich IV deposed Albert III and made Godefroy Duke of Lower Lorraine. After 11 years of fighting, Godefroy had earned his title.

According to the admittedly biased Gesta Tancredi, Godefroy was possessed of humility, patience, and a keen sense of justice, making him an ideal ruler. Yet, after all that fighting, Godefroy was still not secure in his position. He had many powerful adversaries along his borders. Moreover, Heinrich IV never ran out of subjects looking for the right moment to stab him in the back. No sooner had the Saxon Revolt ended a new civil war engulfed the country when the Emperor fought against Matilda of Tuscany and her new husband’s father, the Duke of Bavaria. By 1093 the war turned against Heinrich IV when his son, Konrad II, betrayed him, trapping his father south of the Alps. Even his own wife abandoned him. In 1095 at the Council of Piacenza, Empress Adelheid [born Eupraxia Vsevolodovna of Kyiv] accused Heinrich IV of obscene sexual deviancy, including rape and forcing her to participate in orgies.

Godefroy was in a terrible position in 1095. Politically, he was weak, with enemies on all sides. Godefroy’s great patron could not even return to Germany to aid him, since his enemies controlled the mountain passes. Morally, Godefroy was on the wrong side as well. He had supported the Emperor’s campaign to depose the rightful Pope Gregory VII in favor of the antipope Clement III. By 1095 Urban II was the preeminent pope, while Clement III’s power waned.

Godefroy appeared for all the world like a hero in a Greek tragedy. Since turning 18 the French lord responded to challenges that would break most other men. Even in his youth he proved a shrewd politician, a fearless soldier, decisive military commander and wise ruler. Despite winning every major battle of his life he was in constant danger of losing what he had fought so hard for. Moreover, as Urban II took control of Christendom, Godefroy’s support of Clement III would bring eternal shame on his name. Godefroy was a knight in shining armor, only he had fought for the wrong side.

Then on 27 November 1095 Urban II declared a holy war. For the discontented Duke of Lower Lorraine this was both temporal and spiritual salvation. He quickly set about selling his estates to raise an army. He had had enough of Germany and Europe. Instead, he aimed to rule a new country in the rich east. At 36 years old Godefroy de Bouillon joined the holy war for new lands and the promise of fighting on the right side.

The third lord of the holy war was Robert II, Count of Flanders. Robert II was born around 1065 to the House Baudouinides, the ruling house of Flanders and of Boulogne. Robert II was thus a cousin of Eustache III, Count of Boulogne, Godefroy, Duke of Lower Lorraine, and their youngest brother, Baudouin.

As you might have guessed, Robert II was the firstborn son of Robert I (hereafter called Robert I the Elder) and Gertrude of Saxony. Despite being a firstborn, he was not expected to be a great lord. The boy’s grandfather Baldwin V, Count of Flanders, wanted his firstborn son, Baldwin VI, to succeed him. To that end, the count had his second-born son, Robert I the Elder, swear to renounce any claim to the County and support Baldwin VI’s ascension, even going so far as to pay him off. Baldwin VI became Count of Flanders in 1067, though his reign was short-lived. Three years later he died and left the county to his fifteen-year-old son Arnulf III.

Robert I the Elder had sworn two oaths and taken a cash payment not to oppose his older brother; he had made no such promises to his nephew. Shortly after Baldwin VI died Robert I the Elder launched a rebellion. With support from King Philippe I, Arnulf III warred for his inheritance, only to be cut down at the Battle of Cassel in early 1071. Robert I the Elder then paid off the King of France and became Count of Flanders. Yet, the war was not over. A coalition of nobles, including Godefroy the Hunchback and several other powerful regional lords, sought to overthrow Robert I the Elder and uplift Arnulf III’s second-born son. Robert I the Elder held off the invasion, and had Godefroy the Hunchback assassinated, after which he secured his title.

This was the world that Robert II was raised into: a world of upheaval and violence. As a youth, Robert II was schooled in war, likely joining his father on the campaign trail, though not fighting in his early wars given his age. From his adolescence Robert II saw that out of this violence came justice. After all, the boy’s father had secured his rights through continual warfare.

Robert II’s world was also one of glory and adventure, which favored the daring. In 1075 Flanders hosted Edgar Ætheling, claimant to the throne of England against the ruling King Guillaume I. That same year King Sweyn II of Denmark harbored in the county on his way to raiding England. Given Guillaume I’s power as Duke of Normandy and King of England, it is no wonder that Flanders gave refuge to his enemies, including his own rebellious eldest son Robert II called ‘Courteheuse.’ Thus, the boy was raised in an atmosphere of heroism; meeting great warriors from across the northern world who bled for what was rightfully theirs.

When Robert II became an adult his horizons expanded even farther to include the Holy Land and the Eastern Roman Empire. This occurred due to his father’s conflict with the church. In 1077 a bishop excommunicated the Count. Robert I the Elder got Pope Gregory VII to reverse his damnation, though his relationship with the church remained strained. Thus, in 1086, Robert I the Elder made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land while his son ruled in his stead. On his return journey Emperor Alexios I Komnenos hired his band of Flemish knights to fight a Pecheneg uprising. His valor earned him praise in the Eastern Roman Empire, and the friendship of its leader. The Count returned to Flanders with a plea to send more men to aid the crumbling Greek state. Through his father, Robert II learned all about the wonders of the East, the conflict between Christians and Muslims and the imminent collapse of Rome’s successor.

Robert I the Elder died in 1093, leaving the County of Flanders to his son. Two years later, the Pope sent him a letter declaring the holy war. Robert II seized the opportunity to become like one of the great travelling warrior-nobles he had met in his youth, follow in his father’s footsteps and ensure his good relationship with the church. He left Flanders at the age of 31, the youngest of all the great lords, dreaming to be remembered in tale and song.

The fourth great lord of the holy war was Robert II, Duke of Normandy. Robert II was born around 1051, the eldest son of Duke Guillaume le Bâtard. As a child he grew up under the shadow of a larger-than-life father. In the 1050s Guillaume defeated two coalitions of France’s greatest lords led by King Henri I himself. Robert II was only a child during the first invasion, though he was probably aware of the second. These victories made Guillaume the most powerful man in all of France, whose Norman subjects could not even dig a trench without his approval.

As Robert II grew he learned how to fight, and by all accounts was an above-average soldier. Yet, he was never the imposing figure that his father was; far from it. He acquired the nickname ‘Courteheuse,’ meaning ‘short stockings’ for his diminutive stature. Moreover, he was generally disliked by many around him. He had an ill humor which only worsened when his younger brothers made him the butt of their jokes.

Unlike many other warlike lords, Guillaume did not take his heir-apparent on campaigns. When Guillaume subjected Maine in 1063 he did not bring Robert II, though he did name him Count. In 1066 Guillaume invaded England, leaving Robert II at home to learn statecraft with his mother. In 1073 Guillaume, now King of England in addition to Duke of Normandy, campaigned against rebels in Maine on his son’s behalf. Despite Robert II being over twenty years old and the nominal Count of Maine he had no involvement in suppressing the upstarts in his own county.

Why did Guillaume keep his eldest son from going to war even when he campaigned continually for decades? Perhaps he wanted to spare his son from the trauma he had experienced. After all, Guillaume had a very troubled childhood, facing regular assassination attempts and fleeing into the countryside for his very life. Another possibility is that Guillaume wanted to safeguard his heir. Before he became known as ‘the Conqueror,’ Guillaume’s moniker was ‘the Bastard,’ and he had to fight to assert his legitimacy. It is understandable if Guillaume did not want his son to undergo all the hardships that he had. A final possibility is that it was not Guillaume’s choice to shelter the boy but that of his wife Matilde of Flanders. Matilde had a reputation for protecting her sons and may have pleaded with her husband to shield them from danger. Regardless of reasons, the result is that Robert II had no practical experience in warfare even into his 20s; a rarity for men of his age, particularly Normans.

Confined to the palace, Robert II began to plump out at the edges. While never rotund, this short, overweight, ill-humored man became the butt of a thousand jokes. Robert II was already tired of the mockery when his two younger brothers Guillaume and Henri thought it would be funny to dump a chamber pot over his head. As hilarious as that sounds, Robert II was not laughing. He tried to assault his brothers only for his father to hold him back. This incident likely proved the last straw. Robert II was tired of being stuck in manors and castles with no authority or respect. He had spent years demanding that his father give him real power, only for him to say ‘no’ every time. Egged on by Philippe I, King of France, Robert II went into rebellion.

As a daring first move, Robert II tried to take Rouen, the capital of Normandy, only for his father to outmaneuver him. Defeated before the campaign could even begin, the upstart young man fled to Flanders where he lived in exile with his mother’s family, Count Robert I the Elder and his son Robert II. In 1079 Robert II assembled a force and travelled to the Vexin, an area of contention between the Norman dukes and the French kings. There he mercilessly pillaged the countryside, destroying towns and killing innocents. In response, the aging Guillaume took to the field to put down the rebellion. According to the chronicles, Robert II unhorsed his own father and would have killed him had he not recognized the man before he could strike the fatal blow. While Guillaume failed to pacify his son, Robert II’s cruelty was so awful that even his ally Philippe I turned on him. Opposed by both great powers in the north, Robert II accepted a peace negotiated by his mother.

In the ensuing settlement, Guillaume finally gave his son a measure of authority: as far away from France as his realm extended. He sent Robert II to the north of England to put down rebels and defend the border from Scottish incursions. Despite his limited military experience, Robert II proved remarkably effective at his task. He led an army into Scotland which forced its king to the bargaining table. He also created fortifications to secure Norman dominance, the most famous of which was a new castle he built on the Tyne River, which has since left its name to the city of Newcastle upon Tyne.

These triumphs could not make up for the four years of rebellion that had permanently damaged Robert II’s relationship with his father. The only thing holding the family together was Queen Matilde. Her death in 1083 ended whatever cordiality remained between Guillaume and his firstborn son. Unsure of his own position in his father’s vast holdings, Robert II went into a self-imposed exile, travelling throughout France, Germany and Italy.

In 1086 Robert II returned to Normandy when King Philippe I sponsored yet another rebellion in the Vexin. The tired old Conqueror departed England to face his son again, only to suffer a mortal wound on campaign the following year. On his deathbed, Guillaume considered disinheriting his eldest; yet, whether out of love or sheer prudence, he decided he would give his son a share of his realms. When Guillaume passed away Robert became Robert II, Duke of Normandy. Guillaume’s second son, Guillaume II, became King of England, while Henri received a large sum of cash.

Guillaume’s children were not of the same stature as their father and everyone knew it. Rebellions broke out on both sides of the Channel as lords fought for greater independence or tried to push one of the brothers to invade the lands of the other. From the start of his reign the new duke constantly had to put down revolts in his territory. What’s more, King Guillaume II held over a dozen castles in western Normandy, allowing him to land troops whenever he pleased. Tensions came to a head in 1094 when Guillaume II invaded Robert II’s lands and seized a castle loyal to him. It was only with the help of King Philippe I that the duke’s brother ended his campaign.

By 1095 Robert II was in a difficult situation. His younger brother had advanced from dumping excrement on his head to conquering his territory. Little brothers, am I right? Guillaume II was the king of a vast country. From his base in western Normandy he could land an army at any moment to attack Robert II, even as Robert II could not do the same against him. Meanwhile, the duke’s youngest brother Henri had taken to raiding Robert II’s territory. Robert II proved an energetic, competent military leader, who could hold on to most of his inheritance, but he was in constant peril of losing it and possibly his own life.

When word of the holy war spread to Normandy, Duke Robert II sensed an opportunity. The pope decreed that those who left for war received a guarantee to their lands. Moreover, any lord who remained and took advantage of their neighbors’ absence faced excommunication. If Robert II joined the war he could buy himself time, during which his lands were protected by God’s own divine word. In the meantime, a successful campaign would grant him the respect he had craved his entire life. If he could lead an army to Jerusalem he would return as a great champion of God and legendary war-hero. Such fame and glory might provide him the edge he needed to retake those parts of the duchy under his brother’s control. Perhaps, it might even grant him the power to conquer England and receive all the lands he believed were rightfully his.

Robert II told the pope that he wanted to war for the Holy Land, but instability in Normandy worried him. In response, papal legates entered into negotiations between the Duke of Normandy and the King of England. Guillaume II agreed to respect his elder brother’s lands, and even gave him 10,000 silver marks to furnish an army. For Guillaume II, it was a small price to pay to get rid of his brother for a few years. Additionally, by funding Robert II’s forces Guillaume II could take some credit in the war’s successes even while he remained comfortable at home.

Thus, Robert II departed for the Holy Land at 45 years old to finally win the respect that had eluded him his entire life and to secure his lands during a period of turmoil. Even as he departed, Robert II envisioned that upon his triumphant return he could finally launch a conquest of England, as his father had done, and become the greatest lord in Western Europe.

The fifth man to depart from the Latin West leading an army to retake Jerusalem was Étienne II, Count of Blois. Born around 1045, he was the second son of Thibaud III, Count of Blois. Of all the leaders of the First Crusade we know the least about Étienne II. He was not engaged in great power struggles or dramatic events like many of his contemporaries in northern France. His succession was never contested. Since his older brother Philippe became a bishop, Étienne II inherited Blois, even as his younger siblings inherited Champagne and smaller territories. Sometime in the early 1080s Étienne married Adèle, daughter of Guillaume I the Conqueror and two fell deeply in love and got quite busy. Over the next twenty years she bore him 11 living children.

What we do know of the Count of Blois comes mostly from his exploits in the holy war. Aside from mentions of him in the chronicles, he is also remembered for writing frequent letters to his wife. Their correspondence shows a man enamored, who yearned to return to his home and hearth. From what record exists, it appears that Étienne II may well have departed with the sincerest of motives. Étienne II likely did not take up the cross for wealth or power, but out of genuine Christian duty. Ironically, his pure intentions would hurt him in the end, as those with ‘impure’ reasons proved far more willing to suffer during the war to achieve their aims. At the age of 51, Étienne II joined his brother-in-law, Robert II, Duke of Normandy, and Robert II, Count of Flanders, to fight for God and liberate the Christians of the East.

The sixth great magnate to sport the cross was Bohemond of Taranto. Born in 1054 with the name Marc de Hauteville, he was the first and only son of the legendary Norman mercenary Robert Guiscard and his first wife Alberada of Buonalbergo. At the age of 5 his father struck a deal with Pope Niccoló II, who named him Duke of all of Southern Italy and Sicily. In the face of consistent opposition, the Normans had by then seized most of the southern half of the Italian peninsula. Within another generation they would rule it entirely, alongside the great island just to the south. As the presumptive heir to such a great state, Marc was poised to become one of the greatest dukes in all of Europe.

The boy grew rapidly, even impressing his fearsome father. Marc’s remarkable size led the towering Robert Guiscard to give him the nickname ‘Bohemond’ after a mythical giant, a name which he carried for the rest of his life. In the early 1070s he joined his father on campaign against rebellious nobles, quickly developing a reputation as a ferocious warrior.

The son of a great lord, respected by his peers and subordinates, Bohemond was in an enviable position. Then fortune turned against the giant in 1073. When his father fell ill, Robert Guiscard’s second wife, Sikelgaita, pushed her husband and their vassals to recognize her son, Roger Borsa, as the heir to Southern Italy. With one move, Bohemond had lost one of the greatest realms in all of Europe. Yet, his father loved him; if Robert Guiscard could not pass on his own realm, he devised to give him an even greater inheritance.

In March 1081 the Duke of Southern Italy gave his firstborn son an army with instructions to conquer the Eastern Roman Empire. Bohemond worked his way along the western coast of Greece until he reached the great city of Dyrrachium. His father arrived shortly thereafter and set in for a siege. On 18 October 1081 a relieving army led by the new Emperor Alexios I Komnenos gave battle. There, father and son defeated the Emperor himself.

Alexios I had been bested, yet he refused to surrender. He sent 360,000 gold pieces to the King of Germany, Heinrich IV, to fund an invasion of the Italian peninsula. It was during this years’-long campaign that Heinrich IV brought most of his German vassals south, including one Frenchman named Godefroy of Boullion. Robert Guiscard returned to Italy to deal with the German threat, leaving Bohemond to conquer the Eastern Roman Empire. In two separate battles Bohemond and his Normans smashed the Emperor’s army. After winning victory after victory, the giant finally suffered a crushing defeat at the Battle of Larissa. The Normans tried to keep the invasion going but they were caught between two empires. When Robert Guiscard died in 1085 his second-born son Roger Borsa immediately abandoned Greece and returned to Italy to secure his possessions, ending the campaign. Dreaming of an empire, Bohemond was left with almost nothing.

Bohemond lacked a title, yet he was a terrifying fighter and brilliant commander who the Italo-Normans widely respected. Thus, the dispossessed son of a mercenary lord raised an army and began seizing territory from his half-brother. He rapidly subjected Taranto and a few other major cities under his control. He might have conquered all of the southern half of the peninsula had not his uncle, Roger Bosso, Count of Sicily, intervened on Roger Borsa’s behalf. Bohemond knew he could not face his half-brother and uncle and so he accepted a truce wherein he got to keep most of the territory he had seized and remain a regional lord.

With no other options available, Bohemond accepted his new lot in life, even assisting his half-brother put down rebellions. Yet, Bohemond was discontented. He had bested the Eastern Roman Emperor in three battles and brought most of Greece to heel, only to lose it all. This veteran of dozens of battles still had fire in his blood. Furthermore, he knew that there was little hope of expanding his domains in Southern Italy so long as the Duke of Calabria and Apulia and the Count of Sicily allied against him.

According to the chronicles, Bohemond was besieging the rebellious city of Amalfi with Roger Borsa in 1096 when armed pilgrims passed by. These soldiers bearing a cross stitched on their clothing informed Bohemond of the holy war, at which point the giant abandoned the siege with his men. In all likelihood, Bohemond and his compatriots knew about the war and he had prepared to leave even before the siege began. Whatever the case, the Norman leader was more than happy to abandon his half-brother while he went on another eastern adventure. There was nothing more that he could accomplish in Italy. At 40 years old, Bohemond joined the holy war to make himself a great lord in the east. When Bohemond departed from Bari he hoped that Emperor Alexios I could get over the humiliating defeats the giant had inflicted upon him a decade earlier; for he hoped to be named Domestic of the East, ruling over all of Byzantium’s territories in Anatolia and beyond.

The final leader of the holy war was Raymond, Count of Toulouse. Raymond was born around 1041 as the second son of Pons Guillaume, Count of Toulouse and his wife Almodis de la Marche. In 1053, when Raymond was just 12 years old, the Count of Barcelona abducted Almodis and forced her to marry him. Without his mother, Raymond grew up under his father’s tutelage. Pons was connected to Cluny Abbey, the most influential of all French religious sites, and it is likely through this that Raymond acquired his fervent piety. Throughout his life he would be a patron of the church and support its reforming endeavors.

In 1060 Pons died. His will stipulated that the vast majority of his lands should pass to his firstborn son, Guillaume, with a clause that if Guillaume died without producing an heir then those lands and titles would pass to Raymond. A less moral man would have read that and immediately arranged for an ‘oh-so-common’ hunting accident for his brother, but Raymond was a man of God, and he trusted the Lord to sort things out in due time. Meanwhile, Raymond had to content himself with Saint-Gilles, Nîmes and a handful of other southern territories. Even though the lion’s share of their father’s territory had gone to Guillaume, Raymond still had enough power and wealth to secure a marriage with a Provincial count’s daughter. In 1065 he made further gains: when his cousin died he seized the lands that would have otherwise gone to her widower through a legal argument known as ‘I have more swords than you.’

Raymond was a pious man, but his devotion was to God alone. He would not acquiesce to any demands that ran contrary to his own vision, no matter who made them. In 1074 Pope Gregory VII asked Raymond for help in his power struggle against the Normans who were then conquering southern Italy. Raymond refused. In response, Gregory VII excommunicated him on the grounds of a consanguineous marriage.

Raymond’s decision not to fight the Normans in Italy paid off in the end. By 1080 the relation between the pope and Norman lords had flipped on its head, as they became allies against the Holy Roman Emperors in the Investiture Controversy. When Raymond’s first wife died Gregory VII overturned the excommunication. Furthermore, the new Count of Sicily, Roger Bosso, rewarded Raymond with a marriage to his daughter Mathilde.

For seven years Raymond continually expanded his territory, becoming one of the great powers in the south. Then, in 1087 he joined his first holy war when he departed for Iberia to assist in the Reconquista. At that time, Alfonso VI, the self-declared Emperor of Spain, had called the southern French lords to aid him in driving out the Muslims once and for all. However, Christendom was not the only culture that practiced solidarity. Realizing their weakness, the southern Islamic polities called for aid from the Almoravids, who sent a force across the Strait of Gibraltar.

Raymond found himself in the middle of an incredibly bloody war between two faiths. There he learned that his Muslim opponents were sophisticated, intelligent, well-organized and disciplined; often moreso than the Christians. If Raymond despised their religion he learned to respect their military prowess. Years of fighting only produced a stalemate, as the Iberians went from advancing southward to simply holding onto their own territories.

In 1094 Raymond’s brother Guillaume died while on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. When word arrived, Raymond asserted his rights by his father’s will to all the family territory. This caused some controversy as Guillaume’s daughter Philippie claimed that she was the rightful heir, arguing that since Salic law did not apply to the south of France, a woman could inherit land. She quickly married the Duke of Aquitaine, whose forces supplemented her own. Yet, Raymond had by that time grown too powerful; known as the Count of Toulouse, Raymond actually held 13 counties. With Guillaume the Conqueror dead and his lands divided between his two eldest sons, Raymond was now the wealthiest and most powerful man in the entire Kingdom of France. As if to add icing to his very large cake, that year Raymond’s second wife died, upon which Alfonso VI gave his daughter Elvira to the Count as a reward for his service in Iberia. Of course, she brought with her a dowry worthy of the ‘Emperor of Spain,’ further expanding Raymond’s vast fortune.

By 1095 Raymond had accomplished all he could have ever dreamed of. Despite being passed over initially, he had become the great power in the south, greater even than most European kings. His wealth was the envy of all of his fellow nobles. Moreover, he was well-respected as a pious man and patron of the church. While he had struggled with the official church under Gregory VII, he had a much better relationship with the Vatican under Urban II; no doubt because Raymond patronized Cluny Abbey, where Urban II hailed from before becoming His Holiness. Finally, Raymond had lived a long life; his father had died when he was around 40 years old, whereas Raymond was in his mid-50s. Thus, the count who was as great as kings had no earthly triumphs left to achieve.

Following the Council of Clermont, Raymond was one of the first to declare his intentions to join the war. As he felt his life drawing close to its end, the Count of Toulouse said that he wished to die liberating the Holy Land. At the age of 55, Raymond left for what he hoped would be his final, glorious war. After he and his fellow believers failed to conquer Iberia for Christ, he believed that it was his duty to lead an army of faithful to establish the Kingdom of God in Jerusalem.

These were the seven lords of the holy war, each leading their own army. While all claimed they took up the cross for God, they each had their own private reasons to travel halfway across the known world. Hugues left to save his family’s honor. Godefroy sold all his lands he expected to lose to acquire a new country. Robert II wanted to become an adventurer like his father and the great men he had met in his youth. Robert II desired the respect that had eluded him his entire life, which he hoped to use to conquer the Kingdom of England. Étienne II left out of duty to God and the church, though he always looked over his shoulder at the family he left behind. The restless giant Bohemond had lost one empire in the east and saw the war as an opportunity to seize it again. Raymond wanted to die bringing the kingdom of heaven to Earth.

One went for honor. One for a new beginning. One for adventure. One for a crown. One for duty. One for empire. One for death. Seven men, of turbulent lives who changed history forever. At times their common purpose would unite them. Other times their conflicting passions, personalities and aims threatened to tear apart their entire endeavor and end their very lives and the tens of thousands who followed them.