77 Chapter 7: Race to Constantinople

It is a noble exercise to recount accurately the deeds of princes. To do so is to consider generously all that is subject to time, to celebrate the dead, to entertain the living, and to set out a past life as a model for later generations. It is to bring back what has happened in the past. When it displays victories, it confers them on the victorious. It eliminates sloth, conveys honesty, presents virtues and draws a crowd. We should, therefore, press forward with the greatest effort to read what has been written and to write down what ought to be read. Thus, in reading old things and writing new, antiquity may be able to satisfy our needs and we may be able to nourish to the fullest the requirements of our posterity.

-The Gesta Tancredi

We believed we were in our own country, thinking that the Emperor and his satellites were our brothers and helpmates. They, indeed, raging in the manner of lions, attacked a peaceful people who thought of nothing less than arms. They butchered them in secret places; they stole what they could by night, in the woods, and in villages remote from the camp. Although they raged thus, their leader promised peace. But during the intervals of peace, they killed Pontius Reinald and mortally wounded his brother, Peter, and these were most noble princes. However, when an opportunity was presented to us for revenge, we chose to continue the journey, not to avenge our wrongs. On the way, we had letters from the Emperor about peace, brotherhood, and, as I may also say, about alliance; this, however, was a snare in words.

-The History of the Franks who captured Jerusalem, by Raymond d'Aguilers [Quotes read by Podcast on Germany] 

Travelling across the breadth of Europe was no mean feat in the medieval period, even for professional soldiers. The False Holy War of Pierre the Hermit had made the trip even more dangerous. If the great nobles and their armies had hoped to be welcomed along their march with flowers, gold and provisions by cheering crowds they were sorely misguided. Before the lords could march the People’s Crusade had cut a path of death and destruction through Central and Eastern Europe, turning many otherwise friendly Christians against the Western zealots.

There was no single leader of the Holy War; likely Urban II did not imagine that so many great lords would march east, instead believing that individuals and mercenary companies would take up the call. Each army had its own leadership, meaning that there were effectively seven leaders. Without top-down coordination the different factions moved largely independent of each other. The only thing that offered some cohesion to the disparate forces was the pope’s announced departure date of 15 August 1096 during the Feast of the Assumption. This date was meant to provide a timeline for departing nobles while providing space for the Eastern Romans to prepare for the arrival of the Westerners.

The first of the lords to march was Hugues of Vermandois, brother of King Philippe I. Hugues was determined to be first to set foot in Constantinople and win the support of its Emperor. With Alexios I’s backing, he wanted to claim leadership of the holy war and take the lion’s share of its glory. Before setting out Hugues sent messengers to the governor of Dyrrachium asserting his nobility and greatness. Anna Komnena records Hugues declaring, “Know, Emperor, that I am the King of Kings, the greatest of all beneath the heavens. It is fitting that I should be met on my arrival and received with the pomp and ceremony appropriate to my noble birth.” A later message read, “Our Lord [Hugues] is almost here. He brings with him from Rome the golden standard of St Peter. Understand, moreover, that he is supreme commander of the Frankish army. See to it then that he is accorded a reception worthy of rank, and yourself prepare to meet him.”

It is possible that Anna Komnena exaggerated Hugues’ haughtiness, given her evident dislike of the French. Given what followed shortly thereafter, Anna might have made up the letters to tell the familiar story of a vain lord brought low. While it is possible Anna exaggerated, it is also very likely that Hugues was truly full of himself. He was the son of the deceased King Henri I, brother to the reigning king and a lord in his own right. Hugues likely did believe that he was superior to the other lords of the holy war. Or, if he did not believe it, he certainly wished it. It is very possible that Hugues sent self-aggrandizing messages to the east to impress his own greatness on the Byzantines so that he might better master the war.

Hugues’ army set out in late August. The host travelled south through the Alps to Rome. There he assailed the city, forcing Clement III to flee to the Castel Sant’Angelo. With the antipope confined to the fortress, the Eternal City fell under Urban II’s control. Already, the holy war was a triumph for the pope, and it had barely started! Rome had been the last major holdout for the Holy Roman Emperor’s chosen leader of the Latin Church. As Hugues’ forces departed they left Urban II as leader of all western Christendom, save only a few pockets of resistance loyal to his rival.

After ‘liberating’ Rome from its heretical leader Hugues led his forces to the great port city of Bari on Italy’s eastern coast. There he hired an armada to ferry his forces to the Greek mainland. As they passed through the Adriatic Sea a storm ravaged the fleet, sinking many. Hugues’ own ship was blown off-course and he landed at Epirus, far south of his intended destination. It was then that the governor of Dyrrachium gathered the French from the various beaches that they landed on and brought them to the city. From there, the general Manuel Boutoumites escorted Hugues’ men through the empire to Constantinople, where they arrived at the end of October.

Hugues arrived at the great eastern capital in a much-humbled state, having lost a significant amount of provisions, gold and men. The Frenchman’s misfortune played into Alexios I’s machinations. Having dealt with foreign armies, particularly Normans, he was perpetually suspicious of powerful bands of soldiers travelling through his territory. He wanted the incoming Western lords to recognize their dependence on the Eastern Romans for provisions and support. Additionally, Hugues’ desperation for recognition aided a still further aim of the Emperor: to have each lord swear an oath of loyalty to him. The Emperor used Hugues’ early arrival to woo the count to his cause, believing he could use him to pressure the incoming lords to follow suit.

Godefroy of Bouillon was the next to leave. After selling his lands in Lower Lorraine to raise an army, he led his men to march through the Holy Roman Empire and across Eastern Europe. Accompanying him was his older brother Eustache III and his younger brother, Baudouin. Eustache III was the Count of Bouillon, a position he aimed to return to after the war. However, Baudouin had inherited very little from his father. Like Godefroy, Baudouin set out for the Holy Land hoping to settle there as a great lord.

Far from being hailed as heroes of the cross, Godefroy’s army was constantly monitored with suspicion as it travelled to the Eastern Roman Empire. Before setting out, Godefroy had vowed to kill Jews for betraying Christ. In response, the Holy Roman Emperor Heinrich IV warned him that any violence against his Jewish subjects would be met with harsh reprisal, prompting Godefroy to claim that he had never spoken such words. Nevertheless, the traumatized Jews of Mainz and Cologne offered Godefroy what money they had left to move along without violence.

When Godefroy reached the border of Hungary he met with another ruler who had had his fill of zealots. Godefroy offered King Coloman I his brother Baudouin as a hostage to ensure that his men would not cause any trouble for the Hungarians. Coloman I accepted and the soldiers marched through the country without incident, upon which the King of Hungary freed Baudouin.

When the army reached the border of the Eastern Roman Empire they were again held up. The Byzantine guard was rightly alarmed at such a large force, especially after the devastation of the People’s Crusade. After a few days the Eastern Romans allowed Godefroy’s men to enter the country, directing them to travel to hastily-created markets all along the route to the capital. This measure was meant to keep the foreign army from pillaging the countryside, as Pierre’s ragtag masses had done. Furthermore, as the markets were under imperial control, prices remained stable, and no local merchant could inflate food costs to take advantage of the soldiers, something which would likely lead to violence. Godefroy and his men arrived at Constantinople around late October, shortly after Hugues’ arrival. Having taken the same path as the murderous People’s Crusade, they received an icy reception everywhere they went.

The next group to take up the cross were the armies of Robert II of Flanders, Étienne of Blois and Robert of Normandy, who travelled together. The three hosts first stopped in Paris, because even the most hardened, professional killers cannot resist visiting the City of Love when it is on the way. Afterwards the armies travelled south along the length of the kingdom, until they crossed over the Alps. The soldiers then moved to the city of Rome. While in Rome some French soldiers paid homage at Saint Peter’s Basilica. As they did, loyalists of Clement III took out their anger at the interlopers. Foucher of Chartres recounts that, “with swords in their hands, [they] wrongly snatched the offerings placed on the altar. Others ran up and down on the roof of the church itself, and from there threw stones at us as we were prostrate praying. For when they saw anyone faithful to Urban [II], they straightway wished to slay him.” Hugues’ deliverance of the city had not been complete; moreover many Romans naturally resented the regular abuse they suffered at the hands of French-speakers who regularly attacked the city in support of their chosen pope.

The three armies continued south, stopping at a shrine to Saint Nicholas to pray for martial strength and deliverance from their foes. Then they reached Bari in late Fall, when the weather is most treacherous. When Robert saw the dark clouds covering the skies he decided it was too dangerous to risk a crossing. Instead, he and Étienne of Blois took their men further south where they wintered in the territory of Roger Borsa, the Norman Duke of Calabria and Apulia. While enjoying the comforts of Southern Italy, the Duke of Normandy met Sibylla of Conversano, daughter of a wealthy Italo-Norman lord, and fell in love; though their passion would have to wait until the war’s conclusion.

While the great lords and their wealthier vassals could afford the delay many of the poorer soldiers who had joined out of enthusiasm could not. Foucher records their defections without sympathy, writing, “Many of the people, deserted by their leaders and fearing future want, sold their bows, took up their pilgrims' staves, and returned to their homes as cowards. For this, they were held worthless by God as well as by man, and they became utterly disgraced.” The pious Foucher could not forgive those whose aching bellies mattered more to them than the oaths they took to Christ. Yet, these defections demonstrated a clear danger that the holy war faced: many soldiers expected to be fed and clothed with plunder acquired along the way. Delays meant hunger, destitution, desertion and perhaps even mutiny.

While the Duke of Normandy and Count of Blois wintered in the south, the Count of Flanders could not wait. The daring adventurer hired a fleet and sailed across the sea to the Eastern Roman Empire. Unlike Hugues, Robert’s crossing was a glorious success. Fortune favored the bold man; at least for the time. The two armies left behind in Italy waited until April of 1097 when they retook the journey. The hosts sailed from the southern port of Brindisi. As the fleet neared the western shores, suddenly, and entirely without warning, one of the boats cracked down the middle and sank, taking with it four hundred souls. The ill-omen frightened some into abandoning the war, further bleeding the two hosts.

After three days of little wind the breeze kicked up and ushered the ships to a landing spot north of Dyrrachium. From there Foucher recounts:

“We proceeded over the land of the Bulgars, over mountain precipices and [deserts]. Then all of us came to the rapid river which is called the Demon by the inhabitants of the place, and deservedly. For there we saw many people, submerged unexpectedly by the strong current, perish when they hoped to wade through it step by step, and not one of the onlookers could help them. There we shed many tears out of pity over this, and if knights with dexterous horses had not brought assistance to those on foot, many others would have lost life in like manner. Then our camp was laid out close to the bank of the river, where we stopped for one night. Vast mountains on which no inhabitant was visible, towered over us on all sides.

In the early morning at daybreak, with the trumpet signals sounding, we began to climb the mountains which they call the Bagulatus [Bagora]. After passing the mountainous cities of Lucretia, Botella, Bonfinat, and Stella, we reached a river which was called Bardarius [Vardar]. It was customary to cross it only in boats, but with God's aid we forded it, and rejoiced. Having crossed it, we pitched our tents on the following day before Thessalonica, a city abounding in all goods.”

After resting and resupplying for four days the hosts again took to the road, proceeding along the Via Egnatia until they arrived at the great eastern capital. There they met with Hugues, Robert of Flanders, Bohemond and Godefroy.

Bohemond had taken to the seas on 9 April 1097, accompanied by many Italo-Norman lords, and vassals. The most notable of his followers was his 21-year-old nephew Tancred, who Bohemond made his second-in-command and who would play a significant role in forthcoming events. While the Mediterranean was kind to the giant’s host, human error nearly spelled disaster. A small fleet under Richard of the Principate caught sight of Byzantine ships and mistook them for pirates, upon which the Italo-Normans fired upon the Greeks. The Eastern commander was hit in the arm with an arrow and then knocked out by a stone slung by none other than a priest. Even as the officer began recovering the priest reportedly hit him again, this time with a barley cake, which he had launched after running out of stones.

Once the Italo-Normans had crossed over the sea Bohemond ordered that they treat the Byzantines with all civility and kindness. He forbid ransacking the countryside or abusing the Greek-speakers, who he called fellow Christians. While Bohemond appealed to his vassals’ sense of Christian duty his motives were entirely his own. The last time the giant was in Greece he was campaigning against none other than its current Emperor Alexios I Komnenos. Though he failed to conquer the empire, Bohemond hoped that Alexios I could forgive him for past grievances. The giant even aspired to become Domestic of the East, ruling Anatolia on behalf of the Byzantines. After all, the Byzantines were famed for hiring Norman mercenaries, and previous Norman leaders had all ruled parts of the east, those being Hervé ‘Frankopoulos,’ Robert Crépin and Roussel de Bailleul. Although, all three of those Normans had rebelled against the empire and threatened to bring it to collapse until the emperor had them captured and possibly poisoned.

The Italo-Norman host peacefully marched across Greece until they reached Kastoria where they celebrated the nativity. While there the soldiers looked for a market to resupply themselves. But there was no market and the locals shunned the Latins, fearing that they came to plunder their lands. In response, the Westerners did just that, stealing their livestock to sate their hunger. Next, Bohemond’s host marched to Pelagonia, to an area occupied by the Bulgars, a people who were nominally part of the Byzantine Empire but were in many cases autonomous. There the Italo-Normans found a fortified town, which they assaulted under the pretext that it was filled with heretics. After a brief siege the town surrendered to the armed pilgrims. Immediately the Latins sacked the city before razing it to the ground with its inhabitants trapped inside.

The force continued east until they reached the River Vardar where Bohemond led his men across. But before all could ford the river a mercenary army of Turks and Pechenegs in the Byzantines’ services attacked those waiting to cross. When Tancred saw this he leapt into the river and swam back to aid those left behind, a feat which inspired many to follow him. After a brief battle the Italo-Normans routed their foes. Yet, upon the orders of Bohemond, they let the captured forces go as a sign of goodwill to the Emperor.

As Bohemond’s host marched east a Byzantine envoy finally went out to meet them. He and his soldiers were to accompany the Latins to Constantinople along a route staffed with markets made especially for them. Even still, the Italo-Normans nearly sacked another city, but Bohemond ordered them to stand down. The giant truly believed he could win the Emperor’s favor if only he could prove that neither he nor his men were barbarians bent on plunder. As they neared Constantinople Bohemond raced ahead with just ten mounted knights, so eager was he to impress himself upon Alexios I. While he was one of the last to depart, Bohemond was the third or fourth to arrive, after Hugues, Robert of Flanders and possibly Godefroy of Bouillon.

The last to depart and last to arrive was Raymond of Toulouse. The lord of thirteen counties took his time raising the largest of all the crusader armies. Many great personages joined him, including Adhémar, Bishop of Le Puy, the pope’s personal representative. It is likely that before setting off Urban II asked the Count of Toulouse if he could take a detour through the western Balkans. This route would take him through lands controlled by the Slavic ruler Constantine Bodin, who Raymond would cow with a show of force. Bodin had been a thorn in the side of the pope and the eastern emperor. Bodin had kept in contact with the antipope, Clement III, at a time when Urban II wanted to put an end to his rival’s power once and for all. Bodin also rebelled against the Byzantines, further draining their resources. Thus, Urban II asked his faithful servant to make a brief stop to threaten the Slavs on his way to doing the lord’s work.

Raymond’s journey through the Holy Roman Empire and Hungary was thankfully uneventful. Then they traversed the Dinaric Alps in what is today northern Croatia. The chronicler Raymond d’Aguilers writes, “While advancing into the land of Slavonia they suffered many losses on the way, especially because it was then winter. For Slavonia was such a desert and so pathless and mountainous that we saw in it neither wild animals, nor birds for three weeks. The inhabitants of the region were so boorish and rude that they were unwilling to trade with us, or to furnish us guidance, but instead fled from their villages and their castles. Indeed, they even butchered like cattle, or, as if they had done much harm, the feeble aged and the weak poor, who, because of their weakness, followed our army…Nor was it easy amidst steep mountains and thick woods for our armed knights to pursue the unarmed brigands who were acquainted with the country. But they suffered them constantly, unable either to fight or to keep from fighting.”

During a skirmish, Raymond’s knights captured six men. Of these, d’Aguilers writes, “he ordered the eyes of some of them [the prisoners] to be torn out, the feet of others cut off, and the nose and hands of still others to be slashed, so that while the pursuers were thus moved at the sight and preoccupied with their sorrow, the Count could safely escape with his companions. And thus, by the grace of God he was delivered from the straits of death and this difficult situation.” Despite the harsh weather, inhospitable climate, and unfriendly population, no soldiers died, since Raymond’s army was well-provisioned and trained.

The French army, likely numbering around 10,000 soldiers, arrived at the city where King Constantine Bodin held court. There, Raymond fulfilled his oath to the pope to remind Bodin not to speak to any antipopes, nor harass the Greeks. The meeting was by all accounts cordial, if tense, and the French host peacefully returned to the road. However, while Bodin did not dare assault the Westerners, brigands killed a number of Frenchmen. Rather than seek vengeance, the Count of Toulouse pressed his men across the border to Dyrrachium. There was no peace to be had within the Byzantine Empire; at this time the Balkans was a loosely-controlled confederation of various peoples, among them Bulgarians, Pechenegs, Turks and others, none of which welcomed the French. While no force dared to attack the enormous host, lone soldiers who wandered into the woods or in remote villages were regularly killed.

No one was immune to the violence, not even the pope’s representative. D’Aguilers recalls, “When we were in the valley of Pelagonia, the Bishop of le Puy , who, in order to find a comfortable resting place, had withdrawn a little distance from the camp, was captured by the Pechenegs. They knocked him down from his mule, robbed him, and beat him severely on the head. But since so great a pontiff was still necessary to the people of God, through God's mercy he was saved to life. For one of the Pechenegs, in order to obtain gold from him, protected him from the others. Meanwhile, the noise was heard in the camp; and so, between the delay of the enemy and the attack of his friends, he was rescued.”

The brutalization of a holy man was too much for the armed pilgrims, who increasingly blamed the Greek Emperor for their woes due to his inability to control his so-called vassals. Shortly thereafter the army sacked a nearby city, satiating their bloodlust with its plunder. In response a Greek force attacked the French near Rodosto, that is modern-day Tekirdağ [pronounced te cirda], just west of Constantinople. Latin Christians slew Orthodox Christians, even as the former came to save the latter. Not long after the massacre envoys from the imperial court approached the Count of Toulouse. They apologized on behalf of Alexios I, who offered to reimburse Raymond for his losses accrued along the way. With this settled, Raymond sped ahead of his army to the eastern capital.

By early 1097 the seven Western armies had arrived. Their combined forces numbered perhaps 40,000, with nearly 6,000 mounted knights. The journey over land and sea had been difficult. Men left their families dreaming of seeing the Holy City only to die in a number of horrible ways. Some drowned in tempests, others were cut down by highwaymen, while still others were slain in combat with their fellow Christians. These hardships drove a number to abandon the road, tear off the crosses stitched into their clothing and return home. The trek across Europe had shown the armed pilgrims that it was not just an enemy they had to contend with but the elements and the land itself.

Still, the loss of hundreds, even thousands, along the way was not a serious blow to such a host. Far from it; it may have even helped the pilgrims. Those who betrayed their oaths were among the least-determined and poorest, often camp-followers rather than professional soldiers. These early hardships bled the armies of their least useful members, leaving the strong and zealous. Finally, and most importantly, there were now less mouths to feed.

Despite all the problems the Byzantines faced their bureaucracy was remarkably effective. For the most part, the Byzantines had gathered enough food to feed the incoming Latins, provisioning them while they were within the borders of the empire and for the first march. Yet, before the march could begin there was the question of who would dominate the holy war. For this, Alexios I turned all his resources to seizing a host powerful enough to conquer nations and overthrow empires.