Frankish knights, who stopped to fight, found themselves grabbed by the fleeing [crusader] rabble, who snatched their arms, the manes and tails of their horses, and pulled them from their mounts. The Turks hurriedly and pitilessly chased and massacred the living and robbed the dead. In the running fight from their bridge to ours, the Turks killed up to fifteen knights and around twenty footmen. The standard bearer of the Bishop of Le Puy and noble young man, Bernard of Beziers, lost their lives, and Adhemar's standard was taken.
22
The level of casualties suffered in this engagement was not disastrous, but the defeat was a serious blow to Latin morale. Throughout the crusade, and in medieval warfare in general, princes used personalised banners or standards, often bold and colourful in design, to group and control their forces. These banners were prized possessions, symbols to be followed into battle. They might be raised over buildings or even cities to demonstrate rights to captured property, and surrendered enemies might themselves huddle around their captor's banner to avoid being randomly butchered. In the customs of war the loss of one's banner was a sure sign of defeat; the capture of Adhemar's standard - which depicted the Virgin Mary -was, therefore, both humiliating and deeply depressing. In the following weeks, the Turkish garrison delighted in taunting the Franks by flying the captured banner from Antioch's walls. Taken together, the rout at the Bridge Gate and the events of the Foraging Battle also raised worrying doubts about the ability of mounted knights and crusader infantry to co-operate effectively in battle. The events of late December must have strained the bonds of trust between these two forces, and they certainly prompted the crusade's leaders to reassess their battle tactics in the coming months.
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THROUGH THE EYE OF THE STORM
With the advent of the New Year, 1098, the crusader forces were reunited. They had survived two dangerous tests, but their material position at Antioch had not improved. Most of them were already hungry, exhausted and depressed, and the next month brought absolutely no respite. Instead, their conditions of living became increasingly unbearable - death through starvation, illness or battle not simply a possibility, rather a probability - and for the first time fear began seriously to weaken their ranks.
Within Antioch, the Turkish garrison also must have felt the pinch, but with three of the city's gates still open, and with access to much closer allies, they appear to have been far more successful at gathering supplies. In February, the crusader Anselm of Ribemont remarked in a letter: 'The city is supplied to an incredible extent with grain, wine, oil and all kinds of food.' Outside, however, events seemed to conspire against the crusaders. First, the local population began to exploit Latin hunger:
The Armenians, Syrians and Greeks learned that our foraging forces had come back destitute. Consequently, they scoured the countryside, buying grain and other foodstuff which they carried to camp where great famine gripped the besiegers. They sold an ass for eight hyperoi, which is worth 120 solidi in denarii. Despite this market, many crusaders died because they did not have the money for such inflated prices.
24
The exact value of these prices cannot be calculated, but it is obvious that they were exorbitant. Under these conditions wealth and social status became determinants of life. The poor were of course the first to suffer, but many that had reached Antioch with some riches intact now found themselves destitute. Some were saved by the leaders' charity. Writing to his wife in March 1098, Stephen of Blois remembered the torment of these months: 'Many have already exhausted all their resources in this very holy passion [the siege]. Very many of our Franks, indeed, would have met a temporal death from starvation, if the clemency of God and o
ur money had not succoured them.
Even though these acts of generosity saved some, starvation and suffering were still widespread:
At that time, the famished ate the shoots of beanseeds growing in the fields and many kinds of herbs
unseasoned with salt; also thistl
es, which, being not well cooked because of the deficiency of firewood, pricked the tongues of those eating them; also horses, asses, camels, dogs and rats. The poorer ones even ate the skins of the beasts and seeds of grain found in manure.
25
On top of all this, a series of natural phenomena - including a comet and an aurora - were experienced in northern Syria and interpreted by the crusaders as miraculous signs of God's displeasure. One Frank recalled that 'at that time, we saw an astonishing glow in the sky, and, in addition, we felt a great movement of the earth, which made us all quake. Many also saw a certain sign in the shape of a cross, whitish in colour, advancing toward the East in a straight path.'
26
In the face of such unpromising conditions, the crusaders began to panic. Profound adversity sometimes clarifies and crystallises the human heart, and we can learn a great deal about the crusaders' mindset and motivation by exploring how they sought to rationalise their predicament. They were confronted by one central question: if they were fighting a holy war in the name of God, why was their Lord allowing them to suffer and die? Their answer, or at least that of the clergy, was that mainstay of medieval Christianity - sin. Fulcher of Chartres, himself a chaplain, offered this explanation: 'We believed that these misfortunes befell the Franks, and that they were not able for so long a time to take the city, because of their sins. Not only dissipation, but also avarice, or pride,
or rapaciousness corrupted them.
If God was punishing the crusaders for their sins, then, the clergy believed, the only solution was to purify the army by whatever means possible. Adhemar of Le Puy began to advocate a return to righteousness through extreme austerity and Christian ritual, urging 'the people to fast three days, to pray, to give alms, and to form a procession; he further ordered the priests to celebrate masses and the clerks to repeat psalms
.
The efficacy of a fast among those who were already starving may seem dubious, but the formula of imposed physical denial and intense liturgical observance was believed to be a tried-and-tested recipe for success. It was one to which the crusaders would return.
27
The process of purification also had more unpleasant sides. One particularly regrettable feature of medieval Christian dogma was the belief that women were essentially agents of sin. This extraordinary concept can be traced back to St Augustine of Hippo, the late-fourth-and early-fifth-century architect of the Just War theory whose enormously influential theological writings continue to shape Christianity to this day. Unfortunately for womankind, Augustine had, like many saints, been quite a philanderer before he turned to God. Once he had dedicated his life to the Church, however, he decided, rather uncharitably, that women had seduced him into sin, and indeed that they were in essence corrupt and dangerous. Perhaps most notably, he contributed to a reinterpretation of the story of Man's fall from Eden, focusing blame upon Eve rather than the serpent. By the eleventh century, then, women could be portrayed as temptresses, agents of evil. It is in this context that we must try to understand one crusader's dispassionate observation that, in January 1098, 'After holding council, [the Franks] drove out the women from the army, both married and unmarried, lest they, stained by the defilement of dissipation, displease the Lord
.
The near-contemporary writer Albert of Aachen recorded a more general list of measures and prohibitions:
All injustice and wickedness was to be cut out from the army, no one was to cheat a Christian brother; no one was to commit theft; no one was to take part in fornication or adultery. If anyone should disobey this order, they would be subject to most severe penalties if caught, and thus God's people would be sanctified from filth and impurity.
It seems, however, that Albert believed that transgression was inevitable, because he went on to record:
When indeed many of the pilgrims disobeyed the decree they were severely sentenced by the appointed judges: some were put in chains, other flogged, others shaved and branded for the correction and improvement of the whole army.
In that place a man and woman were caught in the act of adultery and they were stripped in the presence of all, their hands were tied behind their backs and they were severely whipped by strikers and rods, and were forced to go round the whole army so that when their savage wounds were seen the rest would be deterred from such and so wicked a crime.
28
Many sought to combine this rigorous programme of purification with more direct, practical action. It became common for large groups of men, 200 to 300 at a time, to set off on wide-ranging foraging expeditions. Most of these were probably unsanctioned by the crusade leadership, but they were certainly not the preserve of the lower classes. Ludwig, the archdeacon of Toul, once a relatively wealthy cleric, decided, when his money ran out, to lead 300 other clerics and lay people in search of food. Unfortunately for them, spies reported their departure to the Antiochene garrison; 600 Turks were sent out of the Iron Gate to ambush them, and Ludwig and all his followers were butchered.
29
Even with all the efforts to restore 'purity' and morale, it is not surprising that some crusaders considered desertion when faced with such levels of suffering. Thousands of kilometres from home, adrift among enemies, many must have believed that the entire expedition was close to complete collapse and annihilation. Often, those who left to forage in outlying areas chose not to return to the siege. Even well-known crusade figures were not immune. Towards the end of January 1098, two leaders of the former People's Crusade, the charismatic preacher Peter the Hermit and the knight William the Carpenter, lord of Melun, stole away from the siege in the dead of night. They appear to have travelled on from Constantinople in Bohemond's army, because when the flight was discovered it was Tancred who was sent after them:
[He] caught them and brought them back in disgrace. William spent the whole night in my Lord Bohemond's tent, lying on the ground like a piece of rubbish. The following morning, at daybreak, he came and stood before Bohemond, blushing for shame. Bohemond said to him, You most loathsome of all men whom the earth has to bear, why did you run off in such a shameful way?'
30
William evidently had a reputation for desertion - he was known to have fled during an earlier expedition against the Moors in Spain -
but, even so, most of the army begged Bohemond to be lenient, perhaps because they understood only too well the fear that had afflicted him. In the end, both William and Peter returned to the crusade without further punishment, having sworn an oath to persevere in the siege. The crusade leadership evidently judged them to be too valuable as figureheads for the poor, talismans of morale, for their escape or banishment to be acceptable. Indeed, in the months to come, Peter went on to play a more active role in events.
31
The crusaders were less sympathetic in their response to another significant departure. Since leaving Constantinople, the Franks had been accompanied by the Greek guide and adviser, Taticius. At the end of January, he announced his intention to travel back into Asia Minor in search of supplies and reinforcements for the siege. The crusaders had, since their arrival at Antioch, been expecting to be reinforced by the Byzantine emperor Alexius Comnenus. At the time, Taticius' proposal was probably accepted, his promises believed. Apparently, he even left all his possessions behind in camp as evidence of his determination to return. He and his men duly set off and eventually rendezvoused with the emperor, but, for reasons that will become clear, Taticius never returned to the siege of Antioch. This betrayal shocked the Franks, and, writing with the benefit of hindsight, most crusader sources were deeply critical of the Greek guide's conduct. Raymond of Toulouse's chaplain wrote: 'Under the pretence of joining the army of Alexius, Taticius broke camp, abandoned his followers, and left with God's curse; by this dastardly act, he brought eternal shame to himself and his men.'
32
Around this time, Bohemond himself may have considered leaving the army. According to the Provencal crusader Raymond of Aguilers, who, it must be said, was not particularly fond of Bohemond, he 'threatened to depart' because of the suffering of his troops and his own poverty. Raymond went on to state, 'we learnt afterwards that he made these statements because ambition drove him to covet Antioch', and noted that, in order to maintain Christian unity, 'All the princes with the exception of the Count [Raymond of Toulouse] offered Antioch to Bohemond in the event it was captured. So with this pact Bohemond and the other princes took an oath they would not abandon the siege of Antioch for seven years unless it fell sooner.'
Raymond may have confused this promise of full rights to the city with later events, and no other contemporary source recorded these negotiations, but it is possible that Bohemond was already angling for a guaranteed share of Antioch's spoils in early 1098.
33