ACT I - 'DEUS VULT'


  • ACT I - DEUS VULT (1099-1100 A.D.)



    At that time Jerusalem shall be called the throne of the LORD, and all nations shall gather to it, to the presence of the LORD in Jerusalem, and they shall no more stubbornly follow their own evil heart.


    (Bible. Jeremiah 3:17)








    *****​

    Pope-Urban-II-Crusade-Clermont.jpg


    In the year of 1095 Anno Domini, Pope Urban II assembled a council in the French city of Clermont, aggregating nobles, clergymen and commoners to discuss various matters, including the excommunication of the then King of France, Phillip I, and the formalization of a series of rules and setlines to withhold the Truce of God. In the last of a series of synods held in these cold November days, facing hundreds of spectators in an expansive field outside the walled city, the Pope made an inflamed speech, describing the plight and suffering of their siblings in the distant Orient, in the land of mystical Jerusalem, in the hands of the infidels, and heeded the faithful of Christ to cease fratricide wars among themselves and to join arms against the pagans in the Orient, and to liberate the sacrosanct places from their hold.

    Pope Urban II, according to his latter correspondence with the bishops and abbots of France and Germany, admitted that, in these cold November days of 1095, even he could not have fathomed the repercussions of his summon, which sparked the very first Crusade.

    Militarized expeditions agglomerating a multitude of peoples with the single purpose of achieving a spiritual reward, the Crusades were extraordinary episodes, and would for centuries shape the worldview of monarchs, popes and peasants. The concept of a “holy war” was not new, of course, and it had been adopted as a pretext by Charlemagne in his bloody wars against the Saxons and Avars, and by various Iberian, Italian and German lords to prosecute campaigns against their non-Christian neighbors, be them Moors, Saracens or Slavs. In 1095, however, a new kind of “holy war” was conceived and developed, directly associated with the archaic concept of “just war”, and conjoined the ultimate paradox of the Christian Medieval Europe: the conciliation of the Christian theological dogmas of peace and spiritual candidness with the sociopolitical structures orbited around violence and war. For the first time in Christian history, war itself became the path to salvation and redemption. The shedding of blood of the so-called “infidels” was a righteous task that allowed both commoner and aristocrat to achieve the final reward in the otherworld.

    In this context, the First Crusade was perhaps one of the most extraordinary of these exalted expeditions, congregating at first an army of plebeians led by charismatic preachers, and, later, by highborn magnates with their private armies, that went on foot from the confines of Latin Europe all the way to the Orient, and, after years of tribulations, facing the mightiest Islamic potentates, succeeded in wrestling the Holy City by fire and sword.


    A detailed map of the First Crusade (in French). Right-click it and open in another tab to see it full size.

    Carte_de_la_premiere_croisade.jpg

    To their contemporaries, the victory of the Crusaders was nothing short of miraculous, and many believed that God himself had bestowed his favor on the pilgrims to prosecute His divine work. Indeed, whatever battle that they might have lost, whatever help that they might have not received, whatever new enemy that they might have to fight, any of these, if it had occurred differently, might have spelt the end of the Crusade. Yes, the First Crusade could have been terminated in the battlefields of Nicaea and Dorylaeum, where they triumphed over the mighty Seljuk Turks; it could have been disintegrated by petty ambitions and contempt between the magnates in their journey through Asia Minor; it could have ended with a starving and exhausted bunch of men and women exterminated by the combined armies of the princes of Syria near the walls of Antioch; it could have been finished in the very end, if they had failed to wrestle holy Jerusalem from the infidels, as the grand army of the Caliph of Egypt came from the Nile.

    Yet, the Crusaders triumphed in every of these clashes, their indomitable will and their spiritual resolve unshaken by famine, deprivation, tiredness, and so forth.

    Perhaps the most miraculous of these episodes was the victory in Antioch, after the Crusaders withstood a protracted and exhausting siege, only to be, afterwards, besieged by a vast army of Turkish barbarians. In these fateful days, in 1098, the Crusade might have ended, if it was not for the fortuitous arrival of a relief army led by Basileus Alexios I Komnenos, the Caesar of Constantinople, and greatest ally of the Crusaders.
     
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    2. The Siege of Antioch and the Battle on the Orontes (1097-1098)
  • Antioch.jpg

    CGI rendering of the Siege of Antioch (screenshot from "The First Crusade" video in Epic History TV Channel in YouTube)

    The mighty and proud metropolis of Antioch, cradled in the gentle flow of the Orontes River, for eight arduous months withstood a siege conducted by these Frankish invaders, between October 1097 and June 1098.

    The Crusaders, in two amazing victories attributed to the charismatic leadership of the Italo-Norman prince Bohemond of Taranto, had surprised and routed a relief force led by Abu Nasr Shams al-Muluk Duqaq, the Emir of Damascus [Dimashq] (31 December 1097) and afterwards vanquished an army led by his older brother, Fakhr al-Mulk Radwan, the Sultan of Aleppo [Halab] (9 February 1098).

    The greatest battle of the whole Crusade, however, had yet to come. In the month of May 1098, the ambitious Atabeg of Mosul, a lowborn Turkish warlord named Kerbogha, arrived with a vast army from Mesopotamia, allied with Radwan of Aleppo and Duqaq of Damascus, his former rivals.

    By then, the Crusaders had successfully entered Antioch, because of the deceit of an Armenian traitor named Firouz, who had contacted Bohemond weeks earlier and agreed to open the gates in exchange for a prize. The Crusaders, heeded by a gleeful Bohemond, penetrated the city and slaughtered its inhabitants, leaving the streets and house walls stained with blood. The bloodied head of the governor, Yaghi-Siyan, was given to the triumphant Italo-Norman prince.

    Now, however, the Crusaders saw themselves forced into a defensive position, trapped inside the walls of Antioch like easy preys, and Atabeg Kerbogha, confident in his numerical superiority and in the dwindling resources of the defenders, simply erected a camp for his troops and encircled the metropolis, expecting the Latins to starve to death. Alas, after months of hardships and tribulations, and the violent delights exacted upon the hapless citizens of Antioch, it appeared that the ancient city founded by Antiochus the Great would also become the cemetery for the whole pilgrimage.

    What the Turkish warlords did not know, however, was that the Rhomaion Basileus Alexios I Komnenos – to whom the Crusader princes owed nominal vassalage – was coming from Cilicia to assist his Latin allies and relieve the siege.


    *****


    The Rhomaioi vanguard, led by the emperor’s trusted general Tatikios, came in middle June to harass the besieging forces, and successfully dislodged them from their position, buying the Crusaders some time until the main Rhomaioi column arrived. The Franks themselves were unaware about Alexios’ approach, and were surprised by the sudden departure of the Turkish besiegers.

    In late June 1098, the Turks under Atabeg Kerbogha, now assembled in a promontory near the shore of the Orontes River, gave battle to the combined Latin and Rhomaioi forces, and were soundly defeated. The Muslims were expecting to fight against exhausted and starving bands of Crusaders, but were instead attacked by veteran Tagmata of the Empire, whose mobile forces, assisted by the mercenary Pecheneg horse cavalry, cut off the enemies’ retreat and permitted the heavy infantry to prosecute a massacre against the disorganized Turkish and Syrian spearmen. In the shores of the Orontes, the Rhomaioi gleefully avenged the humiliation suffered in Manzikert, barely a generation earlier.

    Radwan of Aleppo deserted his allies in the fray, and later would benefit from a convenient truce with the Christian enemies, and Duqaq of Damascus escaped, while Atabeg Kerbogha of Mosul was made prisoner, and forced to accept the emperor’s suzerainty. He would soon lose his throne in a coup orchestrated by the elite of Mosul – whose aristocrats despised him for his barbarian origins and invited the deceitful Sultan of Aleppo to become the ruler of the province – and would die in 1100, after failing to restore his rule over Mosul against Radwan’s troops.

    Some revisionist interpretations – mostly critics of Anna Komnena’s chronicle that describes her father Alexios I as the ultimate guardian of the Crusade – have questioned the strategical purpose of the emperor’s campaign to Syria. It seems, indeed, that he was tempted to leave the Crusaders to their own fate, feeling that they had already outlived their usefulness to the Empire. It is almost certain that the whole expedition would have been bloodily terminated in the shores of the Orontes River if they did not receive relief from Constantinople [Konstantinoúpolis]. The odds against the Latins were overwhelming, even more than in Nicaea, Dorylaeum and later in Gaza.

    At the time, Rhomanía was struggling to recover its lost territories in Asia Minor, which had been conquered and settled by the Turkish nomads led by the Seljuk warlords. Alexios’ military and diplomatic efforts warranted the recovery of Bithynia, Ionia, Lycia and recently Pamphylia, with Cilicia inhabited mostly by non-hostile Armenians in nominal vassalage (but de facto independence). Thus, a thin stretch of disintegrated land along the coast of Anatolia held the connection between Constantinople and Syria, the transport, communication and supply lines preserved only by the incessant activity of the Imperial navy. The destruction or subjugation of the Turks in Asia Minor was a much more urgent necessity for the welfare of the empire than the recapture of Antioch, whose geographic situation made it more of a liability than an aspiration.

    Nevertheless, this assessment is not entirely correct. In fact, it glosses over some points brought forward by the contemporary sources.

    First of all, we must never forget that Alexios I Komnenos, much like his predecessors who wore the purple toga, was very serious about his self-ascribed role as protector of the eastern Christians (including the Antiochene and Jerusalemite churches), and the preservation of stability in the pilgrimage routes to the Holy Land (which invariably put Antioch in its path) was a genuine political and religious concern of his. Besides, western Syria, even after the generations of warfare and destruction caused by the Turkish invasion, was still a prosperous and fertile region, and a focal point of the commercial routes coming from Persia and Arabia, thus making it convenient to have a politico-administrative presence in the region. Finally, one must take notice that the Turkish power in Asia Minor was rapidly deteriorating, in the wake of the dynastic quarrels between Alp Arslan’s successors. By employing shrewd diplomacy and bestowing promises and fictive support among the contenders, Alexios ensured a state of grave division between the Turks, and their weakness permitted him to steadily resume the Rhomaion hegemony over western Asia. This also means that solidifying his hold over Syria and pledging support for a friendly Christian army in the Levant created a very convenient state of turmoil in the Near East.

    _______________

    The PoD is this, then. IOTL, Aléxios was marching to Antioch to relieve the Crusaders, but was informed by Stephen of Blois, himself a deserter, that the Crusade was undone. ITTL, Stephen remained in Antioch – after all, he departed back to Europe a single day before Bohemond successfully obtained the entrance of the Crusaders with the collaboration with Firouz. Thus, Aléxios, who had designs on Antioch and trusted the Empire would benefit from the weakening of the Turkish princes in the Near East, arrives just in time to save the Latins.

    Also, IOTL, the Crusaders fought and defeated the Egyptian Fatimids in the battle of Ascalon, barely a week after the bloody capture of Jerusalem. ITTL, due to the diverging circumstances, the decisive battle against the Egyptians will occur near the fort of Gaza (so far a Fatimid outpost), as we’ll see later.

    And, for those who don't know, the Christian peoples of Western Europe were usually put in the same bag as "Franks" in the point of view of the Byzantines and the Muslims in general. So, don't be surprised if you see Italians, Germans and English called "Franks". The name went well beyond the French people.
     

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    3. The Wrath of Bohemond (1098)

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    Sing, Goddess, sing of the rage of Bohemond, son of Robert Guiscard, that murderous anger which condemned Latins to countless agonies and threw many warrior souls, deep into Hell, leaving their dead bodies carrion food for dogs and birds".

    *****

    Whatever were Alexios’ motivations to help the Crusaders and intentions towards the Crusade itself, his arrival with a substantial military contingent proved to be the salvation of the so-called “pilgrimage”, and certainly ensured its short-term success from the mouths of complete annihilation. By vanquishing Kerbogha of Mosul and neutralizing the enmity of the hateful brothers Radwan of Aleppo and Duqaq of Damascus, the path from Antioch towards Jerusalem was much more secure for the soldiers and pilgrims of Europe.

    Yet, the unexpected presence of the emperor created another serious contend between the princes of the expedition, mainly Bohemond of Taranto and Raymond of Toulouse. So far, Bohemond – whose interest in acquiring the possession of Antioch for himself had recently become too evident – had been strengthening his own standing among the princes by deceitfully smearing Alexios’ and Tatikios’ reputations, arguing that the treacherous Greeks had been secretly conspiring with the accursed Turks to destroy the faithful pilgrims in that godforsaken siege. With careful and perfidious persuasion, he wanted to ensure that whatever triumph came from the conquest of Antioch was ascribed to himself. After the Crusaders successfully entered the city and slaughtered its inhabitants (mainly due to the machinations of Bohemond) it became all too clear that the Norman warlord intended to crown himself prince of Syria, with prized Antioch as his capital. In this regard, he immediately found in Raymond of St. Giles a staunch opponent, because the Provençal lord also secretly harbored a desire of becoming lord in Antioch.

    Now that Alexios made himself present, in full imperial regalia, like a gilded archangel of God descended from the heavens to purge the impious besiegers, Bohemond’s carefully structured intrigue was suddenly terminated, as a house of cards blown by the wind, and he grew increasingly desperate.

    Alexios I Komnenos, in his first act once he arrived in Antioch – hardly demonstrating his consternation towards the grim fate of its citizens – bestowed his patronage over John the Oxite (the [Syriac] Patriarch of Antioch) who had been imprisoned by the Turkish governor Yaghi-Siyan before the siege began. In the next day, Alexios presided over a solemn ceremony in the palace of the slain emir, and reaffirmed the oaths of fealty that had been pronounced by the Latin princes a couple years earlier, in Constantinople. Some of them, like Raymond of St. Giles and Godfrey of Lorraine, had been reluctant to swear an oath towards what they saw as a haughty oriental despot, but, now, even them seemed to be gladly accepting imperial overlordship, recognizing the valor of the emperor.

    In a display of magnanimity that overjoyed the Latins, when offered the suzerain’s share of the spoils of Antioch, the Emperor vehemently refused to accept it, and ordered it to be distributed among soldiers and pilgrims alike, in reward to their services to the Empire.

    Bohemond, in a fit of frustration, even tried to claim the overlordship of Antioch on the grounds that he personally had alone allowed it to be captured, by obtaining the collaboration of the traitor Firouz, and that he had ensured the city’s safety by leading the Crusaders against the Turks. Even so, realizing that he had little chance in a direct opposition to the emperor, he masked his own ambition in a façade of having fulfilled his duty as a vassal toward his liege, and that he expected a just reward. This custom, of course, was much more meaningful in the feudal Latin Europe than in Rhomanía, and Bohemond possibly expected to gain the ears and the support of his Crusader colleagues by insisting on the “matter of honor” that the suzerain was obliged to compensate his vassals.

    The emperor did not fall for the bluff, however. He might not have fathomed the extent of Bohemond’s ambitions – it is likely that Alexios, until now, did not suppose that some of the Crusaders intended to remain in the Near East after they achieve Jerusalem – but, nevertheless, he distrusted the Norman prince’s ploys, and took measures to curb his transgressions.

    By careful diplomacy, Alexios I Komnenos immediately sought to acquire the support of his colleagues so as to isolate Bohemond’s standing. Count Raymond of Toulouse was a rival of the Norman prince, and vehemently supported Alexios’ rights over Antioch, while Godfrey of Lorraine, Robert of Flanders, Stephen II of Blois and Robert Curthose of Normandy, and even Bohemond’s own nephew Tancred were successfully persuaded by gifts and honors, and failed to support Bohemond’s pretense.

    *****​

    Frustratingly delayed at receiving a response to his vocal requests of receiving Antioch as a fief, Bohemond was infuriated when he realized, in September 1098, that his case would have no support beyond his own (severely outnumbered) Italo-Norman subordinates. When the emperor offered him the lordship over the border fort of Harim – a derelict citadel that had been surrendered by Radwan of Aleppo in exchange for a truce – Bohemond took insult, and stormed away from Antioch with his followers.

    At first, it seemed that he intended to return to Europe, but then he followed a northeastern course, and it became clear that he intended to seek his fortune in the no man’s land in eastern Syria, where Baldwin of Boulogne – Godfrey of Lorraine’s brother – had recently acclaimed as suzerain of the native Armenians in the frontier stronghold of Edessa.

    It is likely that Bohemond intended to emulate Baldwin’s enterprise, and, indeed, his fame as the vanquisher of the Turks spread quickly, attracting bands of adventurers, mainly Syrians and Armenians, seeking riches and glory. Considering that the fort of Turbessel was nominally in Baldwin’s hands, and seeing no use in becoming hostile to the Lorrainer lord, Bohemond and his Italo-Norman soldiers and native mercenaries committed themselves to the siege of Samosata, an ancient city located on the banks of the Euphrates River, currently in the hands of a vassal of the Turkish Emir of Amida [Diyarbakir], called Sökmen Artuqid.

    The Latins gave up the siege when a Turkish relief force arrived in late October 1098, and retreated to Turbessel, where they were found by bishop Adhemar of Monteil himself, who had voyaged to the east with a company of Frankish knights to rendezvous with the Italo-Normans.

    After some days of cordial dialogues, the soft-speaking Provençal bishop successfully convinced the disgruntled Norman lord to rejoin the expedition going to Jerusalem, reminding him of his solemn vow to retake the holy city from the infidels, and promising that God would give the just reward for the agents of His holy enterprise.

    Until November, Basileus Alexios I Komnenos remained in western Syria, personally leading his own Rhomaioi forces, supported by Pecheneg and Turcopole mercenaries, and by the Crusader allies, against the fragmented Arab and Turkish governments in the region. Now that Radwan of Aleppo had been beaten, no potentate remained to rule over the myriad of castles and towns in Mediterranean Syria, and most of these places accepted the Rhomaioi hegemony, conceding tribute and much needed goods (mainly food, but also horses and daily utensils) to reinforce the Crusaders, who, nevertheless, became increasingly restless to resume their march to Jerusalem.

    Not long after Alexios returned to Cilicia (in November 1098), and from there to Constantinople, leaving his trusted general Tatikios to rule over Syria as the Doux of Antioch, Bohemond of Taranto rejoined the Crusaders in the city of Ma’arrat al-Numan, whose intimidated population gave free passage and supplies to the foreigners.

    Adhemar de Monteil, still revered as the overall leader of the Crusade, voicing the concerns of the minor knights and many of the pilgrims, all uninterested in the petty grievances of their chiefs, pressed for his followers to continue on their joyful procession to the holy land, and after a brief winter sojourn in Laodicea, in late January 1099 the combined European army, assisted by a flotilla of Rhomaioi warships, marched south along the Mediterranean coast.

    _______________

    Chapter Notes: OTL Bishop Adhemar de Monteil – widely considered the de facto leader of the 1st Crusade until the Siege of Antioch – died in early August 1098, likely of typhus, contracted inside the city. Afterwards, Raymond of Toulouse and Godfrey of Bouillon were regarded as the leaders of the expedition, and their rivalry provoked some unnecessary contends that almost undermined the success of the Crusade (like their failure to take Ascalon/Ashkelon due to a petty feud over who would assume the lordship of the city). IOTL, thus, Bishop Adhemar was in Antioch when the city was struck by a plague and died there, but ITTL, he was campaigning in Syria with his fellow Crusaders, thus ensuring that he does not catches the sickness that would cause his deceasing. His longevity will prove to be fundamental to the foundation of the *Kingdom of Jerusalem", as we'll see, and he remains the official leader of the First Crusade, as a Papal representative.

    Also, Bohemond succeeded in pressing his own claim towards Antioch, and thus became the first Prince of Antioch, in spite of Alexios Komnenos’ designs over the city. Unquestionably, Bohemond’s triumph owed to the Crusaders’ distrust against the Byzantine Emperor after he supposedly betrayed his own obligations towards them, abandoning the expedition to its fate as Kerbogha marched from Mosul – as they had sworn fealty to him – and thus Alexios’ appearance ITTL prevents Bohemond to grab Antioch for himself, and, thus he is forced to continue together with the army towards Jerusalem (which he did not do in OTL).
     
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    4. To the Shores of Tripoli (1099)
  • Crusade_1.jpg

    Map of the route of the Crusaders in the Levant (right-click and open in another tab to see full-size)


    Considering the numerous size of the pilgrimage group, and the need of feeding men and auxiliary animals, perhaps the route directly south following the valley of the Orontes River might have been, in theory, an interesting option, as it contained some of the most fertile places in Syria, ensuring that the Crusaders would not lack supplies. Yet, the region was firmly in control of hostile polities, namely the Emir of Damascus, Duqaq, who, despite the humiliation in Antioch, was still a formidable enemy. Being impeded by no truce with the Latins or Greeks, unlike his brother Radwan of Aleppo, this unrestrained and vengeful antagonist, believing himself to be the true champion of Dar-al-Islam against the invading barbarians, would be happy to promote raids and petty skirmishes to harass the Latins.

    Thus, the Crusaders, following the earnest advice of the general Tatikios (who had remained in Antioch), decided to march through the safer path along the coast. There was an ancient Roman road that connected Antioch directly to the port of Caesarea, and from there the path branched: one road continued along the coast directly to Egypt, while another route would take the Crusaders to Jerusalem, the ultimate destination.

    Overall, the trek was uneventful. There was no political hegemon over the region, as the former Fatimid overlords had been expelled from Syria, Lebanon and Palestine by the sudden invasion of the Turks in the previous decades, who, even now, had collapsed in a myriad of warring principalities. Jerusalem itself until a relatively recent period had been under Fatimid rule, but had since been wrestled from their control by the Turkish Ortoqids, and was now, again, under control of the Shia Sultans of Cairo.

    In March 1099, an embassy from Egypt met the Crusaders in the outskirts of Sidon, and was received by their paramount leaders: Bishop Adhemar, Count Raymond, Duke Godfrey and Prince Bohemond. So far, the Fatimids had conceived the Latins as nothing but an army of mercenaries hired by the Rhomaioi to fight against the Seljuks, and simply did not fathom the idea that their ultimate purpose was the reconquest of Jerusalem. The negotiations broke down quickly after an exchange of gifts and honors, as the Fatimids were unwilling to relinquish the control of Palestine, promising but limited rights for the Christian pilgrims coming from Europe, while the Latins furiously demanded the whole city to be placed under protection of the Pope. Some days later after their arrival, the disgruntled Egyptians hurriedly returned overland to Cairo, empty-handed.


    *****​


    Lebanon was inhabited since the eldest eons of mankind, and most of its Mediterranean emporia – built millennia ago by the ancient Phoenicians, the founders of Carthage – were still impressive, prosperous and heavily populated. Nevertheless, despite being protected by apparently invincible fortifications, the local potentates saw no use in resisting the advance of the Crusaders, and were more than content with paying them tribute with money, food, horses and other useful supplies so they could move ahead soon enough. The close presence of the Rhomaioi ships coming from Cyprus discouraged any kind of resistance, because these Levantine princes, while being under nominal control of the Caliphate of Cairo, in practice were left to their own designs, and none of them had war-fleets able to oppose the Imperial navy.

    Also, it is worth noting that, despite the centuries of Islamic domination, many of the cities in the coast, like Beirut [Beyrit] and Tyre, had substantial (Syriac) Christian and Jewish populations, and were actually very used to receiving Latin Christian pilgrims from Europe (with the ports of Tyre, Acre and Jaffa being common destinations for the ships coming from Italy and Greece).

    Count Raymond of Toulouse had even fancied plans of taking the coastal metropolis of Tripoli [Ṭarābulus al-Sham], whose orange orchards produced a blissful perfume in the spring, but Duke Godfrey of Lorraine and the other princes saw no use in wasting resources, lives and time in a seemingly futile enterprise. The Qadi of Tripoli, Fakhr al-Mulk Abû ’Ali ’Ammâr, had provided useful resources and gifts to the advancing Christians, and, according to the legend, even promised to convert to Christianity if Jerusalem fell to the Christians.

    Bishop Adhemar de Monteil urged them to avoid delays and to persecute a dedicated course to the holy sepulcher of the Savior, and so they went along, easy on supplies and trying to reach the city before any proper defenses could be mounted.

    The tired men and women who had attended to Pope Urban II’s summon then passed through Beirut, Sidon, Tyre and Acre, a city where they were commemorated by a group of pilgrims and merchants who had recently arrived from the distant cities of Genoa and Pisa, with some of them joining the trek to Jerusalem. The Rhomaioi fleet anchored in Caesarea, and the Crusader army was bolstered by a detachment of Cuman recruits loyal to the Emperor, before their whole column finally turned inland, going bythe centuries-old Roman road that went to the east.

    In the middle of April, the Crusaders finally arrived in Jerusalem and sent heralds to meet with the Fatimid governor, a Nubian officer named Iftikhar ad-Dawla. To the chagrin of the newly arrived Christians, the governor outright refused to receive their messengers, keeping the gates closed, and even ordered the archers in the walls and towers to attack on sight. As the Latin messengers desperately ran back to the Crusader camp, having tossed their white flag in the ground, the infuriated armed pilgrims prepared for the siege of the Holy City.


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    Chapter Notes: The Crusaders IOTL delayed their march to Jerusalem by about two months due to Count Raymond’s ambition to capture the fortified city of Tripoli, and then the fort of Arqa, which, ITTL, are completely ignored due to the hurry of Bishop Adhemar de Monteil. This also means that the siege occurs a bit differently, as the delay of the Crusaders allows the Fatimid governor to prepare for the siege, and he cleared a expansive forests to prevent the besiegers from collecting timber to build siege engines.

    Another point is that the Crusaders are somewhat better supplied due to the assistance of the Byzantine fleet, while IOTL they were only helped fortuitously by the sudden arrival of a Genoese fleet in the middle of 1099, led by Guglielmo Embriaco.

    IOTL, the Emir of Tripoli, Fakhr al-Mulk, did receive the Crusaders and promised to convert to Christianity if they succeeded in capturing Jerusalem. Afterwards, he reneged on his promise, and was later dethroned by the son of Count Raymond of Toulouse, Bertrand, who established himself as Count of Tripoli.
     
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    5. The Siege of Jerusalem (1099)

  • Jerusalem.jpg


    CGI rendering of Jerusalem in the eve of the siege (screenshot from "The First Crusade" video on Epic History TV Channel on YouTube)​


    Much like Antioch, the city of Jerusalem was a sprawling and cosmopolitan metropolis (according to the European point of view), and the weakened military contingent of the Crusaders – by now perhaps numbering 15.000 able soldiers out of an estimated total of 30.000 men-at-arms and knights that had been present in Constantinople years before – could not afford to encircle the city and starve it into surrender.

    Iftikhar ad-Dawla had plenty of time to prepare for their arrival, and hoarded supplies to withstand a siege, and had even tried to deforest the nearby countryside so as to prevent the Crusaders from collecting lumber to build siege engines, but they arrived just in time to chase away the Jerusalemite woodcutters in the outskirts of the city. The topography would not help, as Jerusalem was cradled comfortably in a rugged and hilly terrain, making it impossible to establish a useful besieging perimeter.

    The Holy City would have to be taken by storm, and, indeed, a number of these armed pilgrims accepted with grim determination the fact that they might sacrifice their lives to reconquer the sacred temple of God from the impious.

    The Rhomaioi ships that had accompanied by sea all the way to Caesarea had brought a disassembled battering ram, as well as three humongous catapults named “trebuchets”, and various ladders, ropes and sapping tools. The terrain was too hard and rocky to permit sapping maneuvers to collapse the walls, but the leaders of the army accepted Bohemond’s suggestion of employing a small group of laborers in digging works near the western gate-tower as a means of diverting attention of the defenders from the places that would in fact be attacked. The diversion worked, apparently, as some infantry troops from the defending garrison were detached to attack them during a night sally, but were repelled by a Frankish cavalry charge led by Robert of Flanders.


    *****

    At first, the besiegers trusted the trebuchets would serve as their entrance ticket – as it had proved to be a very useful engine in the siege of Nicaea, some years previously – but after a couple days of successive throws, they realized the Jerusalemite circuit of walls was solid enough to make their efforts a failure. At least they managed to break two towers near the north gate, burying alive in the ruins some dozens of militiamen, and, in another spot, even breached a part of the northern wall, but the defenders, after repelling a daytime attack, obstructed the small entrance by collapsing nearby houses and filling it with spare wood and rubble during the night.

    As it happened, in the end, the fate of the city was decided by the oldest instruments of war available: the battering ram – that breached the northern gate – and the ladders – as the soldiers en masse orchestrated escalades in various points along the circuit of walls to pulverize and weaken the divisions of the city garrison, forced to deal with simultaneous intrusions. In the southern wall, the Franks led by Stephen of Blois managed to place a siege tower and after a bloody showdown against infantrymen and archers in the ramparts, successfully entered the city.

    As soon as the defenses were breached, the fate of Iftikhar ad-Dawla’s forces was sealed, as his troops were mostly light infantry, and lacked the necessary organization and discipline to resist the offensive, especially as the carnage spread through the tight alleys and tunnels near the circuit of walls and in the emptied market streets, where the Crusaders conducted a merciless bloodbath.

    Some days after Easter, then, in the fateful year of 1099, the great city of Jerusalem fell to the Crusaders. They had already commemorated the religious festival of Christ’s resurrection in their war camp, and now that they had arrived in the Holy City, for various consecutive days they renewed the festivities with even greater joy, with sumptuous banquets, masses and acts of adoration in the sacrosanct places, culmination with a procession led by Bishop Adhemar of Monteil and Arnulf of Chocques going to Mt. Calvary, all while the hundreds of slain inhabitants of the city were given away as a tribute to vermin and crows in the gutter outside the walls, or simply incinerated in great pyres.

    _______________

    Chapter Notes: IOTL, Iftikhar ad-Dawla, the Fatimid governor of Jerusalem, had more time to prepare for the siege, as the Crusaders only arrived in June (whereas ITTL they came in the midst of April), and, according to Runciman and Tyeman, he deforested the whole country around Jerusalem to prevent the Crusaders from harvesting wood. ITTL, the Crusaders already have siege engines brought by the Byzantines, and this explains why the capture of the city was even quicker than OTL.
     
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    6. The Abode of Peace (1099)
  • 3d6b790ca4290f199fd0ca998bfff1ca.jpg


    In 1099 A.D., Jerusalem fell after a siege, yet again, a couple days after Easter, in which both Christians and Jews gave their tribute and veneration to God.

    The first two days after the siege of the Crusaders were days of anarchy and mayhem, as the vanquished pleaded the heavens for deliverance against these barbarians – called al-Franj – but the fiery angels of vengeance remained sleeping beyond the abode of the sky as the Franji made their ways into houses and sanctuaries, bloodied and red-eyed.

    Blood. Fire. Ash. Screams. Pain. Hatred. Prayer. Silence.

    A glimpse of Hell, in the very city that had been consecrated by so many faiths, which housed the temples built by the followers of David, of Jesus, and of Muhammad.

    Alas, how can a city be so holy if its houses and temples forgot the sound of the voice of God? For it seemed, after millenia, that God had forsaken that place of sinners and wretches to suffer that very fate so many times. Throughout the whole universe, the holy books, written in different languages and versions and narratives by the Jews, and then by the Christians, and, later, by the Muslims - each of them tell of the last days of mankind, when all of those alive and dead will be summoned to the final judgement, presided by God Himself - but the tormented peoples of Jerusalem for so many times had suffered their own final judgement, seemingly prosecuted by God in absentia, His ultimate will manifested in the triumph of foreign armies of conquerors and barbarians, as punishment for the cursed sins of the Jerusalemites.

    In the third day, an eerie silence descended upon the city, as if the exhausted Franji finally found their long-sought peace, having, in their eyes, purged the sacred realm of the impious souls, and then they retired to their new houses and churches.

    In the midst of the silence, however, one could perhaps hear the agonizing murmurs of those phantoms who had witnessed the same fate befall the holy land, eons ago.

    Yes… the laments of the ghosts of those who had lived there millennia ago;

    Of those who had seen and suffered the wrath of the golden soldiers of the Pharaohs of the Nile;

    Of those who had been etched into the grisly canvas of flayed skins and forests of impaled corpses by the Assyrians, who had perfected the art of excruciation;

    Of those who had been butchered like animals by decree of Antiochus Epiphanes, after he had proclaimed himself a living god and defiled the Holy of Holies;

    Of those who had incinerated or crucified to death when Titus Flavius Vespasianus’ legionaries made the synagogues into furnaces and the orchards into cemeteries of crosses, and then departed back to Rome leaving no stone above stone in Jerusalem;

    Of those who had been left to die in the dirt after the victorious hosts of Persia led by Shahrbaraz carried away the cross of Christ as a spoil of war;

    Of those who were quartered and eviscerated after failing to impede the mad Caliph al-Ḥākim from destroying the holy sepulcher.

    The laments of the dead echoed through the stained corridors and sanctuaries of the Holy City, none to be heard, though, by the victorious Crusaders, who earnestly believed that their loud chants and tearful prostrations in the places where Christ had suffered and died would reach the ears of the Almighty in Heavens, and perhaps award them the entrance into the eternal kingdom.


    *****​


    The Jews probably suffered worse than the Saracens, as their houses were viciously ransacked and the synagogues were torched while the most prized Arabic sanctuaries were preserved after having their wealth plundered, including the Qubbat al-Sakhrah – the Dome of the Rock – where the Prophet had ascended to the heavens.

    Afterwards, many children and women were enslaved, but the Muslims and Jews were expelled from the city, forced to migrate to lands far away from their savage conquerors, thus leaving it only to the Latins and to the native Christians.

    The pilgrims of lowly background made their homes into the now emptied houses of Jerusalem, becoming neighbors with the frightened native Christians (and some converted Muslims and Jews) allowed to remain in the city, who, despite religious differences, for generations had coexisted peacefully with Muslim and Jew alike, and were appalled by the horrendous fate their former fellow citizens had suffered.

    The noblemen with their retinues furnished for themselves new palaces into the larger buildings, such as the Tower of David (claimed by Duke Godfrey after his Lorrainer vassals stormed it during the siege) and the former Jewish sinagogues and Islamic madrassas, repurposed to suit their needs.

    _______________

    Chapter Notes: This is a very significant divergence from OTL, in which the massacre that occurred to the Jerusalemite population forever stained the memory of the 1st Crusade, and would be the precedent that disallowed any kind of long-lasting settlement with the Muslims. ITTL, however, the atrocities happen – as they were the norm in the Middle Ages after the capture of a city – but not on the apocalyptic scale that our TL sources describe (with the most common designation being “ankle-deep rivers of blood). Thus I mentioned specifically that it was not worse than the ruin of Antioch, considering that the Antiochenes also suffered a brutal massacre in 1098 C.E.
     
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    7. The Death of Godfrey of Bouillon (1099)


  • 133476918_4b6987976c_z.jpg



    Detail of a painting representing Duke Godfrey's funeral in 1099 A.D.

    The apostolic see of Jerusalem was nominally held by Patriarch Simon II, who, however, had been exiled to Constantinople after the Turks conquered the city. Respectful of their oaths towards Basileus Alexius I Komnenos, his seat in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher remained unoccupied until the Patriarch finally decided to return, in late 1101.

    This provision, however, would soon prove to be a ceremonious masquerade in order to gratify the Greeks in Constantinople, as the Latins immediately established a separate ecclesiastic jurisdiction – the so-called “Roman Church of Jerusalem” – under Bishop Ademar de Monteil, unanimously elected to fulfill the office in the stead of the Holy See. The Al-Aqsa Mosque, an impressive Islamic sanctuary that had been almost untouched by the depredations of the city’s capture, was chosen to be the headquarters of this new parallel patriarchate. According to the legend, the mosque had been built over the ruins of the legendary temple inaugurated by the Biblical King Solomon, and thus the place became known simply as the “Temple of Solomon”.

    Whatever were the original intentions of Pope Urban II – who was unknowingly about to die of natural causes – or of the Crusaders, it came to happen that the realm of Jerusalem was born officially as a theocratic state. Nevertheless, even if Bishop Adhemar himself was no stranger to arms – having distinguished himself in various battles during the campaign – he knew that a lay prince would have to be appointed to serve as a military protector of the Holy Land.

    The choice would necessarily be between Duke Godfrey of Lower Lotharingia and Count Raymond of Toulouse, who were the senior leaders of the expedition, with the most salient aristocratic titles and lineages, and also the wealthiest lords. In the context of the feudal society, these premises were quintessential, as a lord needed to have resources and prestige – or, as Bishop Adhemar himself called, dignitas and auctoritas – to exact obligations and rewards the vassals, even if all of them were de iure subjects of the Pope.

    As it happens, Duke Godfrey had since the beginning of 1099 been struck with a recurrent and debilitating fever. The contemporary sources all describe different symptoms, that went from bouts of delirium to blood cough, but it was most likely that he had contracted malaria, a mosquito-transmitted disease that was endemic in the Levant at the time. In any event, his sickness had already manifested during the Siege of Jerusalem, and, after the victory, sapped Godfrey from his health to the point that Bishop Adhemar de Monteil and the other leaders could simply predict that the Lotharingian noble would pass away soon.

    Indeed, Godfrey passed away in 1099, barely a week after the conquest of Jerusalem, in the new court he had established inside the Tower of David. A procession was conducted from there, where his veterans solemnly carried his body to a suitable burial spot in the sacred grounds of the Mount of the Olives.

    According to Arnulf of Chocques (the sole eyewitness account of his deceasing) Duke Godfrey had proclaimed to be very happy to die in the place where Christ had suffered his ultimate fate and then resurrected.

    Godfrey had never married, and thus was childless, but his younger brother Baldwin of Boulogne was currently ruling in Edessa as its self-proclaimed Count.

    Baldwin arrived (with his mixed Lotharingian and Armenian retinue) in the next week from the fort of Turbessel to pay the respects to his deceased brother. The Count of Edessa arrived just in time to join the requiem mass, and was mildly surprised by the fact that thousands of the pilgrims participated in the funeral of the endeared Duke.

    Count Raymond of Toulouse was the natural choice, then to become the secular ruler of Jerusalem. It seems, however, that he, at first, vehemently refused to accept the offer of becoming King of Jerusalem – his piety would not allow it, and he shuddered at the mere thought of wearing a crown in the place where Christ had suffered and died. Soon enough, the Provençal lord changed his mind, however, and, in the same month of April, was ceremoniously invested with the neutral honorific of “Defender of the Holy Land”, and a more tangible title as “Duke of Galilee”.

    It is highly probable that Count Raymond was actually Bishop Adhemar’s prime candidate to held thislay principality – they, after all, had been the very first ones to accept Pope Urban II’s summon in Clairmont, a few years before, and were mutual friends and political allies who shared the same vision for the new nation founded in the Holy Land. In fact, it is likely that Count Raymond, even if out of genuine piety had no desire to be King of Jerusalem, as his successors would later proclaim themselves, abhorred even more the thought of having his rival Bohemond in this prestigious position. The Italo-Norman lord, despite lacking resources and being from a parvenu dynasty, was venerated by the pilgrims, knights and minor lordlings due to his military prowess, and had demonstrated the ambition of establishing for himself a kingdom in the Orient.

    No sources expressly attest the underlying causes of Raymond’s change of mind, but at least one chronicle briefly mentions that the Frankish and Italian knights acclaimed Bohemond with a golden diadem that had been pillaged from an Islamic mosque, as if he was supposed to be crowned their new King. Count Raymond and Bishop Adhemar must have been alarmed by this unexpected episode, and quickly safeguarded their own interests by alienating the Italo-Norman lord from any positions of authority. This conclusion is corroborated by the fact that Bohemond was not given any meaningful position inside Jerusalem itself, and, not long afterwards, departed from the city altogether with his followers to procure a kingdom for himself.

    *****​

    Thus, Count Raymond was officially anointed as the Defender of the Holy Land and Duke of Galilee, under the nominal suzerainty of Bishop Adhemar of Jerusalem, who himself answered directly to Pope Urban II. Before their messages communicating these episodes arrived in Rome, however, the Pontifex Maximus passed away, in July 1099. His successor, Pope Paschal II, was quickly elected to sit in the vacant throne in the next month, and happily ratified the ceremonies celebrated in Jerusalem.

    Despite the resounding victories of the Crusade, however, there was still a loose end, one that might have, yet again, caused the undoing of the whole expedition: a vast Fatimid army, led by the Vizier of Egypt, al-Malik al-Afdal ibn Badr al-Jamali Shahanshah, was marching to retrieve Jerusalem and exact revenge in the name of Allah upon the Christians.

    _______________

    Chapter Notes: OTL, Godfrey of Bouillon actually refused the crown of Jerusalem, when it was offered to him, claiming that he refused “to wear a crown of gold in the place where Jesus had worn a crown of thorns”. At the time, he was the most popular and most powerful leader of the First Crusade, but the crown had indeed been offered to Count Raymond, who outright refused it was well, and thus Godfrey accepted the nomination but avoided using a kingly title, preferring the more neutral “Advocate of the St. Sepulcher”. Nevertheless, he became a de facto hereditary monarch, and his younger brother, Baldwin, the self-proclaimed Count of Edessa, succeeded him in 1101 as “King of Jerusalem” and thus the De Boulogne Dynasty was established.
     
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    8. The Battle of Gaza (1099)
  • The engagement between the combined Crusader army and the Fatimids occurred in the outskirts of Gaza [Ghazzah], in the middle of May 1099, and resulted in a much-needed Christian victory. In hindsight, the Crusader triumph in that day might have been the ultimate solution to secure the survival of the First Crusade, because, had they failed there, the Fatimids would have successfully reconquered the whole of Palestine, devoid of Frankish soldiers to garrison it.

    The vizier of Egypt, Al-Afdal Shahanshah (Latinized “Lavendalius”), was the power-behind-the-throne in the Caliphate, with the feeble and slothful Caliph in Cairo, Abū'l-Qāsim Aḥmad al-Musta‘lī bil-Lāh, being a mere puppet to his designs, but he was not an accomplished military leader. As a result of his recklessness, the large army marched hurriedly from Cairo, traversing a particularly difficult and arid terrain in the Sinai Peninsula to reach the fortress of Ascalon [ʿAsqalān]. This course would permit the Muslims to avoid the rugged plateaus of Negev, thus preserving their health and resources, but the forced march left the soldiers tired and anxious. In their night camps, one could feel the atmosphere of fear, as tales and rumours abounded about the savage “al-Franj”, that had come like a swarm of locusts to prey on Syria and Palestine.

    Arab Ghulams.jpg


    Foot-soldier and heavy cavalryman (Ghulam) of the Fatimid Egyptian army


    From Ascalon, Al-Afdal intended to march inland and besiege Jerusalem. He did not know, though, that the Christian army, led by Raymond, Bohemond, Baldwin of Edessa – who had remained in Jerusalem after Godfrey’s funeral to join in the battle against the Caliphate –, Stephen of Blois, Robert Curthose of Normandy and Robert of Flanders, had already departed to meet him, and sought to intercept him before he reached Ascalon.

    Indeed, this coastal stronghold, with its sun-bleached bricks and black-crescent banners represented a grave strategic concern for the Crusaders. Due to the intelligence collected by the Rhomaioi, the Franks were aware that after the Fatimid capture of Jerusalem from the Seljuks (in 1098), the port of Ascalon had been refortified and garrisoned, with the purpose of preserving the main land route between Jerusalem and the Mediterranean Sea, thus allowing the region of Lower Palestine to be reinforced by the Egyptian troops coming from the sea. However, excepting Ascalon and Gaza, the Fatimid hold over the region was tenuous, and they lacked useful information about the Crusaders’ movements. It is likely, in fact, that only when Al-Afdal arrived in Ascalon itself he would discover about Raymond’s whereabouts.

    Thus, it came to pass that Al-Afdal was taken by surprise by a swift assault of his enemies, whose exhilarated hosts had bypassed Ascalon and arrived in Gaza in a single day. With the morale soaring due to the triumphant “liberation” of Jerusalem, the Crusaders launched an aggressive incursion, seeking to break the center of the enemy battle line and thus create a state of panic. The plan almost backfired, actually, as the numerical superiority of the Egyptians inspired them to attempt a pincer maneuver to encircle the Christian army, and, accordingly, their flanks suffered the heaviest losses, including the death of Tancred – Bohemond’s nephew – in a bloody engagement. In spite of this, the Fatimid troops were mostly raw recruits, and lost the nerve not long after the initial showdown, and before the Crusaders could be encircled. The whole army shattered when Al-Afdal himself fled from the battlefield with his Mamluk bodyguards, frightened by a charge of the Frankish shock cavalry.

    Despite Raymond’s effort in persecuting the routing bands, a substantial portion of the Fatimid army succeeded in escaping to the safety of Gaza’s fortifications. Al-Afdal himself escaped back to Cairo with his entourage, realizing too late that a large part of his men had been left behind with his campaign luggage.

    *****​

    Gaza was then submitted to a siege, but this time Raymond opted to starve the defenders into capitulation, as he had no desire to waste his already beleaguered soldiers in direct offensive.

    The fortress, located on a rocky promontory, was a natural point of interest to any army crossing Africa and Asia, but, surprisingly, it had been neglected during the conflict against the Turks, because the Fatimids had grown more dependent on Ascalon to secure their control over Lower Palestine. Thus, the town inside the circuit of walls was mostly uninhabited and lacked enough resources to sustain such a large and unexpected agglomeration of refugees.

    The climate helped the Franks, as the month of May inaugurated a particularly dry season, and the lack of water inside the encircled citadel accelerated the state of deprivation of the besieged soldiers. They awaited more than a month to receive any news about reinforcements coming from Egypt, and on their own almost succeeded in dislodging the besieging forces when they discovered that the Italo-Norman army under Bohemond had abandoned Raymond’s troops on the field, in the final days of May, apparently due to a petty quarrel between the Christian leaders. A night attack launched by the Saracens inflicted some losses on Raymond’s Provençals and Baldwin’s Lotharingians, but their effort was vain. The siege continued until early June, when they finally capitulated, still without any information about the coming of a relief force.

    Duke Raymond, true to his reputation as a magnanimous and chivalrous warlord, even towards the “infidels” (and against the exhortations of his vassals to exterminate their foes), allowed the most aristocratic elements of the humiliated army to return peacefully to their homeland irrigated by the Nile, and forbid his soldiers to rape and kill those who had paid ransom, while hundreds of others were either enslaved or expelled from the city barefoot to suffer a long journey across the desert. The last visages of these poor souls, then, when they looked back to the Mediterranean coast, were about the white banners with red crosses upon the ramparts of Gaza.

    _______________

    Chapter Notes: OTL, Tancred, the nephew of Bohemond, lived until 1112 A.D., having, after the capture of Jerusalem, being recognized as Prince of Galilee, and then forfeiting his title when Baldwin of Edessa became King of Jerusalem. Tancred went to Antioch and assumed the regency of the principality during his uncle Bohemond’s imprisonment in a Turkish dungeon. After Bohemond died, Tancred remained as regent for his son, Bohemond II.
     
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    9. The Downfall of Ascalon (1099)
  • Sem título.png


    Not long after the defeat of Al-Afdal and the capture of Gaza, a squadron of Genoese ships captained by Guglielmo Embriaco [Ghigærmo de ri Embrieghi] arrived in Jaffa [Yāfō], and, hearing about the capture of the stronghold, sailed to meet the Crusaders. Raymond was in a hurry to besiege Ascalon, and so the appearance of the Genoese was taken as divine providence.

    Guglielmo Embriaco barely disguised his surprise when the Toulousan nobleman, after a brief exchange of compliments, offered him the lordship of Gaza (in his capacity as a steward of Archbishop Adhemar in Jerusalem), on the condition that the fort should be reinforced and its defenses restored. The offer was eagerly accepted, and thus the very first permanent Italian settlement in the Levant was founded, a pattern that would be observed in all the coastal cities of significance in the Levant, like Acre [Akka], Beirut [Bayrūt] and Tyre [Ṣūr].

    Duke Raymond, together with Count Baldwin of Edessa, accompanied by the remnant armies of Stephen of Blois, Robert Curthose of Normandy and of Robert of Flanders, advanced upon Ascalon and submitted the city to siege in the same week of the capitulation of Gaza.

    By then, his army was mostly comprised by Provençals (the Italo-Normans led by Bohemond had already departed back to Jerusalem) and a handful of Lotharingians that had preferred to remain in the employ of Baldwin of Edessa. After the battle of Gaza, hundreds of pilgrims returned to Europe, content with having fulfilled their vows of liberating Jerusalem, only remaining either those that held personal allegiances towards the Frankish lords, or those who had desire to build for themselves new lives in the Holy Land.

    On the other hand, ever since the capture of Jerusalem, the Greek ships deployed by Tatikios under Basileus Alexios’ orders had also sailed back from Caesarea to Antioch, and from there to Constantinople, also believing that their mission of retaking Palestine from the Fatimids had been fulfilled.

    Without maritime support, the siege of Ascalon might have been a vain effort, as the garrison could be resupplied and reinforced by the Egyptian fleets. Indeed, it was likely that Alexios intended, for the time being, to avoid a direct confrontation with the Fatimids, with whom the Rhomaioi had hitherto fostered a non-aggression pact of sorts. The Crusaders were not exactly aware about Alexios’ intentions towards the Shiite Caliphate, and were dismayed to see the departure of the Imperial navy under dubious excuses, but the victory in Gaza had elevated the spirits and morale of the remaining soldiers – even if their bodies were wracked by continuous years of march and battle, and their ranks thinned by Levantine diseases – and for this reason they decided to commit their force to take Ascalon, lest the stronghold might be used by the Egyptians to launch raids into the heartlands of Palestine.

    The presence of the Genoese fleet nearby in Gaza, then, made the scales of the balance of war to hang in favor of the Crusaders. With the Eastern Mediterranean apparently purged from the Fatimid armada by the efforts of the Greek navy, the Genoese galleys fulfilled an easy task of blockading Ascalon’s port.

    *****​

    Completely blockaded, by land and sea, the garrison and urban militia in Ascalon began to suffer the effects of deprivation in a matter of weeks, while the Crusaders successfully established a direct supply line with Gaza and managed to renew their resources even in a particularly dry season.

    The defenders capitulated in the beginning of August 1099, after a band of daring Genoese skirmishers penetrated the defenses and opened the gates during the night, barely some days before a minor Egyptian infantry army crossed the Sinai, quickly bypassing Gaza in an effort to surprise the besieging Frankish forces and relieve the defenders of Ascalon.

    About this episode, Charles of Acre (writing in the 13th Century), tells us that a certain John of Nîmes, a friar serving in Count Raymond’s retinue, architected a plan to surprise and defeat the arriving Saracens. In the week that this new Egyptian army arrived, the Christians had not yet holstered their own banners in the captured citadel of Ascalon, having left the Islamic crescent-spangled flags draping in the wind, and thus some Christian soldiers were dressed with Saracen armors and clothing and then stationed in the ramparts to greet the Muslims. Their purpose was to pretend that the siege had resulted in failure and the Christian invaders had given up and already departed to Jerusalem. The town inside the citadel had not been plundered, so there was no smoke, nor ruin, thus preserving the façade that the besiegers had given up the siege, and that the Egyptians would be received with honors by the overjoyed citizens.

    Thus, it happened that the soldiers coming from the old Nile were deceived, as they entered the walled town believing to be among friends, and were subsequently entrapped like dogs and slaughtered. The sudden charge and sheer ferocity of the Frankish strike reduced their foes to a panicked mob, and few of them escaped from Raymond’s exhilarated troops, only to doom themselves to a forced trek in the sun-punished badlands of the Sinai.

    *****​

    Before the year of 1099 ended, Count Raymond himself was given castle of Ascalon by Bishop Adhemar – who had full comprehension of the city’s strategic relevance, and the need of preserving both the military and maritime control of the region by the Provençals and Venetians, respectively. Not long thereafter, Count Raymond enfeoffed it as a barony to his nephew, William-Jordan of Cerdanya [Guilhèm Jordà], who had accompanied him on the Crusade and had become one of his most resourceful partisans.
     
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    10. The Aftermath of the First Crusade
  • 6371c84f72fb83674661310b0782d5cf8300c3db.jpeg


    Romanticized paiting of pilgrims returning from the Outremer to Europe


    The capture of Ascalon is considered to be the “final act” of the First Crusade, and, indeed, after it, even the magnates that had remained to see it submitted at last decided to return to Europe with their entourages, like Robert of Normandy and Robert II of Flanders, as well as Stephen of Blois, while Baldwin of Boulogne bid farewell to Raymond and Adhemar and returned to his principality in Edessa.

    The conquest of Jerusalem had allowed the Franks to occupy the region of Judaea, a mountainous and rugged country stretched between the Mediterranean coast from the Jordan valley. There lay cities of historical significance to Jews and Christians alike, like Bethlehem [Bet Lehem], the place where Jesus was born, and Bethany [Beth anya], where his friend Lazarus had lived and died, and was then resurrected by Jesus’ most powerful miracle. These places, like the various Hebrew villages and towns around, had no military presence – as they lacked strategic significance – and were thus easily occupied by the newcoming settlers. Farther to the east, a small detachment of Toulousain veterans took control of the ancient settlement of Jericho [Yeriḥo], which had indeed a more significant role in the power-projection (from the point of view of a feudal lord) over the lowlands of the Jordan valley.

    The region directly north of Judaea was named Samaria, homeland of the Samaritans, a traditionalist Jewish sect that had survived both Christianization and Islamization and various persecutions. The main city there was Nablus [Šəḵem], located two days’ march north of Jerusalem, not a particularly significant city in the demographic or economic aspects, but, being a walled town located on a promontory, it represented a strategic point of interest. It was captured by Pons of Aguilers, Raymond’s vassal, and thus he claimed the city for his liege.

    *****​

    Bohemond of Taranto, with a handful of Italo-Norman knights and men-at-arms, possessed by a festering grudge against Duke Raymond and Bishop Adhemar and his former Crusader associates, finally succeeded in obtaining a petty realm for himself in Ramla [ar-Ramlah] and in Lydda [Lod], cities located in a valley in which the road linking Jerusalem to the sea (Via Maris) had been built. Both districts had flourished under the Umayyad Caliphate but were ruined by an earthquake in 1068 A.D. In the next decades, the Turkish invasions forced the remaining population to evacuate, and thus, despite its strategic significance, the settlements were almost ghost towns when the Crusaders arrived. It is no surprise, then, that Bohemond immediately took measures to besiege the nearby port of Jaffa. This Levantine balneary fell, too, in September 1099, not solely by the violence of the Normans, but also by the providential arrival of a large Pisan fleet, eager to assist the son of Robert Guiscard, in Italy regarded as a living legend.

    It is likely that Bohemond intended to establish himself as an autonomous ruler, explaining why he must have been very uncomfortable with Bishop Adhemar’s demand that he must profess a solemn vow to pledge his loyalty to the Church of Jerusalem, in communion with the Church of Rome. Bohemond, in spite of his ambition and greed for material wealth, was no less of a religious leader than many of his contemporaries – one who had spent two nights wide awake after the capture of Jerusalem praying in the Holy Sepulcher –, and was thus forced to comply to Bishop Adhemar’s whims.

    Nevertheless, Bohemond was, for the moment, somewhat satisfied with his progress. He had abandoned everything behind in Europe, travelling across seemingly half the world with a handful of valiant knights to seek for himself a realm and a lineage in the Holy Land.

    *****​

    To most of all of Bohemond’s contemporaries not hailing from an ecclesiastic background, there was no obvious contradiction between the quest for material rewards and patrimony, and the unending search for spiritual salvation and virtuousness. These two goals could coincide, and, accordingly, many of those that arrived as pilgrims decided to remain as inhabitants of this new kingdom, fashioned from the wrecked remains of the Islamic empires of Egypt and Persia.

    Be as it may, the early expansionist movements of the Crusaders owed their success more, again, to the balkanized state of the Near East after the Seljuk invasions than properly to the Frankish military might or heroism, despite what the popular songs and epics of the period might claim. The growing Frankish presence, in demographic terms, was negligible if compared with the Syriac, Levantine, Jewish, Arabic and even Hellenic ethnic groups that inhabited the region. Among the Franks themselves, there remained a clear majority of Occitan-speaking settlers that had came in Duke Raymond’s army, and a few pockets of Francophone Normans, Lorrainers and Burgundians from the retinues of the other magnates, with a substantial Italian population in the port-cities.

    The modern view that the Latins had come to colonize and Christianize the Levant is an exaggerated misconception. Only a minority of those who had participated in the capture of Jerusalem and the final battles against the Fatimids actually chose to remain in the land, mostly minor and usually landless aristocrats, like the Normans under Robert Curthose, and Bohemond’s kin, and but a few commoners, parochial clergymen and soldiers that genuinely saw a way to increase their fortunes and spiritual fervor in the Orient.

    The pattern of Crusader expansion on the domains that would soon enough be forged into a genuine “Dominion of Jerusalem”, depended much more on improvisation, on the chaotic and fractured state of the Islamic polities in the Levant, and on sheer luck, than upon a “grand strategy” to consolidate the realm. For example: it is likely that the capture of Ascalon and Gaza would not have represented their very first conquest if somehow they lacked a united hostile neighbor in Egypt, because, from an economic and demographic standpoint, the settlements of Caesarea and Acre (in Palestine), as well as Tyre and Beirut (in Lebanon) were much more relevant. The conquest of these cities, however, resulted from individual efforts and offensives from the arriving Christian warlords, in many cases with the cooperation from the Italian navies – mostly from Genoa, Venice and Pisa – that, for at least a generation, had already been protecting their commercial interests in the eastern Mediterranean, and rapidly saw the benefits of supporting the Frankish occupation.

    _________________________

    Historical Notes: With this chapter we end Act I, that was basically the recounting of the initial historical events before the divergence and the POD itself. Now onwards, we will begin to explore these divergences, based on that caveat by which anything that is not mentioned happened just like OTL. To be honest, and I'll likely get to it many other times in future chapters, I am personally fond of the "chaos theory" approach to Alt-Hist, that is, I believe that we should treat anything beyond the POD with all the possible causalities, in which many will be similar (but never equal) to OTL. Nevertheless, I realize that this theory in many cases provides a poor structure for a story-based TL, and thus I'll try to, in what measure I find plausible and possible, to have events flow from the POD more naturally, in some cases similar to OTL, in some cases different.

    This chapter adresses some points that will be brought again in future installments namely the role of the Italian city-states in the strengthening of the Latin Crusader states, much like OTL, as well as the multicultural nature of this new "kingdom". What I intend, in the long run, is to have a much less pronounced French predominance in the Holy Land, emphasizing mainly the role of the Occitan-speaking and the Italian-speaking peoples than those coming from France proper.

    Bohemond's anedocte that he prayed for two straight days in the Holy Sepulcre is atested by sources, and an useful example to dispell the popular idea that the Crusaders went to the orient in seach of plunder and conquest.
     
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    ACT II - 'THE CRUSADE OF THE FAINT-HEARTED'
  • ACT II - THE CRUSADE OF THE FAINT-HEARTED






    "Mysterious are the works of the Creator, the author of all things! When one comes to recount cases regarding the Franks, he cannot but glorify Allah (exalted is he!) and sanctify him, for he sees them as animals possessing the virtues of courage and fighting, but nothing else; just as animals have only the virtues of strength and carrying loads (...)"

    Memoirs of Usāmah ibn-Munqidh







    2nd version (smaller).jpg



    Composite image of the portraits of the Magnates of the Crusade of 1101, taken from different sources. From left to right:


    Top row - Eudes I "the Red" Borel, Duke of Burgundy | Anselm IV, Bishop of Milan | William II, Count of Nevers


    Middle row (left and right) - Welf I, Duke of Bavaria | Stephen of Ivrea, Count-Palatine of Burgundy, with his sons, Reginald and William


    Lower row - Ida of Formbach-Ratelnberg, Margravine of Austria | William IX "the Troubadour", Duke of Aquitaine and Gascony, Count of Poitiers | Conrad of Fritzlar, Constable of the [Holy] Roman Empire​
     
    11. Pope Paschal II's Summon in 1100
  • 1100b.jpg


    As promised, an OTL (French language) map of Europe, North Africa and the Near East in 1100.
    So far, the most significant divergences of the Alt-TL regards Antioch, which is a "Byzantine" territory instead of an independent Frankish principality, and Mosul, which has been "annexed" to the domain of Aleppo after the Siege of Antioch. Notice how Jerusalem is yet a very small (and vulnerable) dominion; it will take some time to expand. If you want a very similar, but English-language map, check this link.



    By the year 1100, Jerusalem was occupied by Latin authorities, nominally under direct rule under the Pope in Rome, as well as a few Palestinian settlements, port-cities and fortresses, an incoherent and unreliable constellation of power projection by the newly elevated Frankish élite.

    Even if the most significant military threats against the “Kingdom of God” had been defeated for the time being – most notably the Turkish rulers of Syria and the Berber Fatimids of Egypt – the recently founded realm was left undermanned after the departure of the larger part of the soldiers, pilgrims and nobles back to Europe. Only the likes of Raymond of St. Giles and Godfrey of Bouillon, who did not appear to be concerned with promoting their own dynastic magnification in the land, and of Bohemond of Taranto and Baldwin of Boulogne, had remained, haughty adventurers who desired to found their own petty princedoms in this lawless country.

    Pope Urban had died in late 1099, and was quickly succeeded by Pope Paschal II, whose first significant act as Pontifex Maximus was, indeed, the convocation of another expedition to reinforce the defense of the Holy Sepulcher. He especially urged those who had taken the crusade vow but had never departed, and those who had turned back while on the march (as it happened to various commoners who had survived the destruction of Peter Bartholomew’s popular crusade in Anatolia at the hands of the Rûm Turks, and minor aristocrats before and after the capture of Antioch).

    The response to the Papal call was immediate and even more comprehensive than the one following the Council of Clermont, a development that can be used as evidence to dispel the very old misconception that the European peoples in the Middle Ages lived in the obscure isolation of sequestered villages and provincial fiefs. In fact, there were significant patterns of economic, social and cultural exchanges and repercussions between the polities of Western Europe (mainly between the Italian and Frankish spheres of influence); the news about the capture of Jerusalem and the tribulations of the Latins had spread quickly throughout Latin Europe, thanks to preexisting ecclesiastic and mercantile structures of information. The bishops in Norman England and in Castillian Iberia, for example, were as aware about the Frankish establishment in Jerusalem as the guilds in northern Italy and the wharfs of southern France anxious to take advantage of new opportunities for pilgrimage and trade.

    *****​

    Much like the First Crusade itself, the so-called Crusade of the Faint-Hearted (or the After-Crusade), did not initially form a single united army, but separate groups of voyagers agglomerated under ecclesiastic and feudal leaderships, that only later came to join and follow a single path toward the Levant.

    The First Crusade, in spite of the fact that Pope Urban II preached in southern France, attracted pilgrims not only from the lands south of the Loire, but also in the fractured provinces that one day had comprised Lower Lotharingia, and western Germany, as well as the Mezzogiorno. In 1101, there was a more significant presence of expeditionaries coming from France proper, as well as southern Germany and the cisalpine region in Italy.

    In this case, we can distinguish between four great factions of expeditionaries:


    1. The Lombards

    The Lombards were led mainly by Anselm IV, the popular Archbishop of Milan. Before the First Crusade, there had been little enthusiasm for the expedition in the north of Italy, but Anselm’s preaching, in the wake of news and legends about the conquest of the Orient, this time attracted a number of adepts from the Alpine cantons to the bustling burghs of the Po Valley.

    Most of them were actually civilians – laborers, fishermen, artisans and proletarians, with the most notable example being the guilds of the woodcrafters and of the stonecutters, whose increasing wealth in the dawn of cathedral building allowed them to outfit almost 500 recruits in Milan alone – but there were also grandees – such as the bishops Guy [Guido] of Tortona, William [Guglielmo] of Pavia, and Aldo of Piacenza, and Albert [Alberto], Count of Biandrate, and his nephew Otto [Oddone] Altaspata, the last one seeking to expiate charges of adultery and incest, because he had kidnapped his own cousin, Count Albert’s daughter, and deflowered her in the very day of her marriage to another baron.

    Their figures might have amounted to something like 4.000 or 5.000 men; some had previous military experience in the endemic conflicts between the rising Italian municipalities, or between the Lombard princes and the Emperor in Germany, but most of them were unarmed pilgrims, with many women and children, who went to this long voyage with but donkeys and a baggage of food.


    2. The Burgundians and the Germans

    The “army” of the Burgundians actually involved two separate hosts, whose sole connection was the common provenience from the defunct Kingdom of Burgundy.

    On one hand, we have the mostly-French speaking subjects of the Palatine County of Burgundy, a fief integrant of the [Holy] Roman Empire, whose magnate was Stephen I [Étienne] "the Rash", of the Ivrea dynasty which centuries ago had produced among its scions two monarchs of Italy, Berengar I [Berengario] and Arduin [Arduino]. Their contingent was actually among the smaller ones, but arguably one of the strongest, due to the substantial proportion of heavy cavalry, including Count Stephen’s younger son, Reginald of Ivrea.

    On the other side of the imperial border, there lay the Duchy of Burgundy, whose lord, then Eudes [Odo] I “the Red” Borel, was a vassal of the King of France. Duke Eudes had no allegiances towards his neighbors, the Burgundians of the Palatine County, but, nevertheless, as soon as he heard about their intentions of going on a Crusade, arranged for them to depart together. The lords of western Burgundy were particularly avid for religious-sponsored adventures; Duke Eudes’ older brother, Hugh, had fought against the Moors in Spain side-by-side with Sancho of Aragon.

    Together with the Burgundian hosts travelled an army of circa 2.000 German men-at-arms from Franconia, whose commandant was Conrad of Fritzlar, mostly known, however, by his honorific office as Constable of the [Holy] Roman Empire. This army had been sponsored by Emperor Henry IV [Heinrich] himself, in a half-hearted attempt of making amends with the Papacy after the fallout of the investiture controversy.


    3. The French from Nevers and Bourbon

    In Nevers, another fief of the Kingdom of France, the seated lord, William II [Guillaume] the local knights and barons, perhaps bored by the ceasing of the never-ending feudal strife provoked by the strict enforcement of the “Peace of God” policies sponsored by the Church, gathered in the comital palace and pleaded permission to go to the Orient to undertake this holy expedition and to obtain holy relics to sanctify their temples. Unsurprisingly, the young and fearless suzerain proclaimed that he himself desired to pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and spent the next months assembling a host, bringing interest from his neighbors in Bourbon, Sancerre and Auxerre.

    Count William II’s host voyaged alone, for they had delayed tôo long their departure, failing to catch up with the Burgundians.


    4. The French from Ilê-de-France, the Aquitanians, the Bavarians and the Austrians

    The last coalition assembled was, by far, the largest and the most formidable one.

    Hugh of Vermandois (called “the Great”), brother of King Phillip I, was one of those who had deserted the First Crusade before it reached the ultimate destination, and found himself too uncomfortable with this circumstance back home, undergoing a Papal interdict and threats of excommunication, and criticized as a coward not only by his peers, by his own vassals, and by his own familiars, in an age in which military valor was among the highest virtues.

    It is understandable, then, that as soon as he heard about this new summon from Rome, he immediately adhered to it, as a means of redeeming his tarnished reputation. Nevertheless, to mobilize a large host of 4.000 footmen and knights from Ilê-de-France, Vermandois, and Beauvais, he took some time, even mortgaging his fiefs and palaces to the sees of St. Denis and Rheims to obtain money. He then followed the same exact path he had chosen some years previously: going to Italy and from there crossing the Adriatic to reach the domains of Constantinople.

    As he was passing through Auvergne [Auvèrnhe], marching along the upper Loire, he was intercepted by messengers coming from Bordeaux [Bordéus], sent by the all-powerful Duke of Aquitaine – who was also the Count of Santoinge, Poitou, Perigord, Limoges and Auvergne itself – who was also going to the east. The French awaited for them, with Hugh barely faking his surprise to see a vast wave of soldiers and knights, with so many banners as there are flowers in the gardens of Paris. His name was Duke William IX [Guilhèm], the gilded chevalier of Poitiers, who would be better known as “the Troubadour”, because, even if he was an accomplished warrior and an apt administrator, he truly loved the musical arts, and endeavored to gift the courts of Europe with marvelous melodies.

    Being arguably more powerful and certainly richer than his own suzerain, Duke William had outfitted more than a 10.000 men for the Crusade, but even he had some difficulty to obtain hard currency cash for the expedition. Thus, he borrowed assets from the monasteries in exchange for favors and patronage; he extorted the Jewish merchants who came every year from Cordoba to sell their fine goods in the markets of Bordeaux with such rapacity that they refused to cross the Pyrenees for years; most surprisingly, he mortgaged the whole fief of Toulouse, which he had recently conquered by force of arms from Bertrand (Raymond of St. Giles’s son), using his wife Phillipa’s claim as a pretext. Understanbly, his duchess was absolutely furious because of the episode (of which she had no previous knowledge), and some argued that William the Troubadour became even more resolved to travel half the world simply to escape from his consort’s wrath.

    Duke William IX and Count Hugh of Vermandois were already on their way, in Carinthia, when they heard that another Crusader army, this one coming from Bavaria and Austria, had recently passed Vienna, and thus French heralds were sent after the German host. South of Buda, the messengers finally encountered Welf d’Este – the son of Albert Azzo II, Margrave of Milan – who had been created Duke of Bavaria as well as Margravine Ida von Babenberg, wife of Leopold II of Austria. The French and Aquitanians then trekked until the Danube and there rendezvoused with the Bavarians and Austrians, together marching to Rhomanía.


    ________________________

    Historical Notes: All the characters mentioned above are historical, and really participated in the ill-fated Crusade of 1101. Regarding the numbers of their soldiers, they are entirely made up, but are based, in my opinion, in reasonable estimates according to similar armies levied during the time. For example, the Wiki notes that Count William II of Nevers brought 10.000 men to Constantinople, a figure that I found too high, even if his county, being relatively central in France, could have been one of the most populated in the region. Nevertheless, such high numbers, if true, could only be explained by Crusaders that came from other nearby counties. The case of William IX of Aquitaine is peculiar, because he indeed was the most powerful feudatory of France (perhaps of the whole of Western Europe – the fact that Henry II of England had more possessions in France than the French monarch owes to his Aquitanian inheritance).

    Nevertheless, we must take in mind that most of the Crusader armies’ numbers are substantially inflated by the presence of non-combatants, such as women and even children, as well as accessory professionals (cooks, leatherworkers, squires, priests, horse tamers, prostitutes, and so forth) that were usually aggregated to the lordly retinue, even if not supposed to fight in battle. The smallest armies tended to be the most “professional” ones, based on (mostly infantry or archer) men-at-arms with a core of heavy cavalry.
     
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    12. The Lombards arrive in the Balkans (1100 - 1101)
  • Ok, since many in this forum are enthusiasts about the "Byzantine" [ok, Roman] Empire, how about a (very) minor update about the situation of the eastern frontier of the Empire. Use the map below for reference, even if it is not exactly detailed.


    1100_Southeast detail.jpg


    Detail of a map of the Near East in 1101, focusing on the Turkish, Syrian and Armenian polities

    ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________





    In 1101, Rhōmania was finally recovering from the chaos of the Turkic invasions, under the stable reign of Basileus Alexios I Komnenos. In the Balkans, the Pechenegs [Patzinakoi] had been finally destroyed, and thousands of their young horsemen joined the forces of the Empire, while the great monarchy of Alp Arslan had fractured in Asia Minor, where the scions of the Seljuk dynasty fought with bellicose adventurers and other princes to assert hegemony, thus paving the way for Constantinopolitan resurgence. In 1097, a couple years before the First Crusade, Megas Doux John [Ioannes] Doukas recaptured Smyrna [Izmir] after the formidable conqueror Tzachas Bey [m. Chaka] died, and reconnected the then splintered themata of Opsikon and Cibyrrhaeot.

    In Anatolia itself, the remnant Seljuks had coalesced around the young warlord Kilij Arslan – who had been the very first antagonist of the First Crusade – and established a dominion over the arid plateu between the Eğirdir Lake and the great salt lake of Tuz, with his court in Iconium, and called themselves “i-Rûm” (i.e. the Romans).

    The most powerful Turkish dynasts in Anatolia, nonetheless, were the Danishmends, whose dominion comprised the former themata of Charsianon, Sebasteia and Armeniacon, whose head was Gümüştekin Danishmend Aḥmad Ghāzī, established in Sebasteia [Sivas].

    Beyond the territory of the Danishmends, venturing deep into the defunct realm of Armenia, one would find, in these years, a torn up country of beys, petty emirs and mercenaries, such as the Mengujekids in Koloneia [Erzican], the Artuqids in Diyarbakir, in Saltukids in Karin [Erzurum], the Shah-Armens, or Ahlatşahlar, in Lake Van.

    Now, with the European borders pacified, the Rhomaioi intended to play their own cards in Asia, starting with the Rûm Seljuks, these insolent wretches that had claimed even the imperial dignity. Then, Alexios received the news about new Crusader arrivals in northwestern Bulgaria, and was forced to change his plans. Of course, now the Franks, these fanatic and bloodthirsty barbarians from the west, would have to be harnessed as a tool to fulfill his grand strategy of vanquishing the Turks, these fanatic and bloodthirsty barbarians from the east.

    Thus, the Basileus awaited, in his golden throne of the Caesars, alone pondering about either the eons past or about the future, optimistic that the Empire would be restored to its former glory by his sons and grandsons.

    *****​

    Even if Italy had a geographically privileged position in the Mediterranean, with plenty of ships now voyaging between the peninsula and the Orient, the numerous Lombard flock of Bishop Anselm IV of Milan lacked the means to finance a direct sea trip. This, coupled with the fears of the peculiarly unstable weather of the Adriatic and Tyrrhenian seas, made them agree that the best course of action would be travelling overland, through the Balkans into the nation of the Greeks and thus crossing the straits to Asia.

    The course of the Sava River thus guided, in late 1100, their way into the realm of the sturdy Croatians and then of the suspicious and sullen Bosnians. In the kingdom of the Serbians, they were not well received, and, after some skirmishes with the hardy horsemen from the mountains, they hastened to arrive into the Empire, finding an easier way along the ancient Roman roads connecting the Belgrade to Constantinople. Their voyage was turbulent, as this moving assembly of god-fearing pilgrims from time to time transmuted into a frenzied horde, inflamed by passionate preaching and otherworldly visions, already afflicted with a collective paranoia and aspiring for violence against the enemies of the faith. The façade of self-righteousness, of course, obscured their vices and sinful prospects in whatever occasions in which they preyed upon villages and homesteads like hungry dogs.

    Basileus Alexios I Komnenos was mildly distressed by the arrival (in early 1101) of yet another mob of self-proclaimed “pilgrims” seeking out distant Jerusalem. Even if he believed to have by now learned on how to deal with unruly Crusaders out of his previous experiences with the Germans, the French and the Toulousains, he was taken aback by the Lombards. Indeed, Bishop Anselm IV's "flock of sheep" proved to be an even worse agglomeration of hooligans, whose collective insubordination greatly tested his patience.

    Their erratic behavior, even after being guided into the imperial capital, provoked a series of tensions and skirmishes with Rhomaion patrols in their way toward Asia. The worst episode was a turmoil near the palace of Blachernae in the midst of March (1101), when the Latins expelled the Pecheneg escort deployed by the Emperor and attempted to pillage one imperial household, where they frenziedly butchered Alexios’ pet lion, believing that he had been placed there as a guard animal of sorts; after the startled feline was eviscerated by a hundred spears, the mob invaded the palace and attempted to subtract its contents, before the Emperor’s Varangian Guard arrived to contain the violence.

    Afterwards, the Lombards were ferried to Nicomedia, where they were supposed to await the arrival of another group of Europeans (the French), already on their way through the Balkans.

    ________________________

    Historial Notes: Overall, this chapter simply narrates the historical traverse of the “Lombards” to Anatolia, I did not create anything new. The stuff about the Crusaders killing Alexios’ pet lion really happened. I almost left it out of the story, but then I realized such a curiosity could not be ignored.
     
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    13. The Arrival of the Burgundians and Germans in Constantinople (1101)
  • beWFfc7.jpg


    Konstantinoúpolis, city of the world's desire. One can only fathom what would a pilgrim from the sequestered hamlets of Burgundy or the silent towns of Germany have imagined when they arrived in Europe's largest and most populous metropolis

    In the midst of 1101, a smaller contingent of westerners arrived in Constantinople.

    Much like the baronial armies of the First Crusade, this was a force of minor nobles, knights, soldiers and volunteer pilgrims. Most of them had come from the region that comprised the heartlands of the defunct kingdom of Burgundy; in these days, the Burgundian fiefs were partitioned between a county and a duchy – whose lords were, respectively, vassals of the German Emperor (who was also de iure King of Burgundy) and of the King of France. The Count Palatine of Burgundy was Stephen [Étienne] I of Ivrea, and the Duke of Burgundy was Eudes [Odo] Borel, a grandson of late King Robert II of France. A minor party of Germans from the Rhineland and Franconia came together with them, led by Conrad of Fritzlar, Constable of Emperor Henry [Heinrich] IV.

    They had previously warned the Constantinopolitan court about their approach, having come from the same overland route used by Duke Godfrey from Germany into the Balkans. Alexios had taken measures to prepare for their arrival, providing resources and guidance while they traversed Macedonia and Thrace.

    To any of the Greeks, the appearance of another Frankish army might have seen as a grave concern, but to the ingenious Caesar of Constantinople, it was a great opportunity. He himself had asked for Latin mercenaries to assist in the war against the Turks, years before, and, indeed, received much more than he had bargained for; nevertheless, the might and turbulence of the Franks could be diverted to weaken the Seljuk dynasts and allow for a gradual takeover of Asia Minor.

    Besides, the Germans and Burgundians were noticeably more disciplined and conscientious than the agitated Lombards, and Alexios I found it easier to dialogue with lay noblemen than with fanatical demagogues like Anselm of Milan. The German Constable Conrad was particularly deferential towards Alexios, as he was aware about the courtesy given by his liege, the Emperor of the Romans, to the monarch of the Greeks. The Burgundian lords, likewise, were impressed by precious gifts (from gold to silk) and a generous offer of resources (food, horses and clothes).

    When they departed from Constantinople – accompanied by a force of Pecheneg mercenaries led by the Tzitas and the Scholae led by Nikephoros Bryennios, son-in-law of the Emperor – crossing the strait of Marmara to meet the Lombards in Nicomedia, the French and the Germans had adopted Alexios’ own personal crusade against the Turks, much like the princes of the First Crusade had done, and were convinced about the necessity of securing a foothold in the heart of Asia Minor to allow a safe land route of pilgrimage coming from Europe.

    Thus, they trekked from Nicomedia to Nicaea, and from there to Dorylaeum. The crossing of Phrygia was made difficult by the sudden appearance of the Seljuks, whose hit and run tactics exsanguinated and vexed the Crusaders.

    In spite of the constant harassment by the Turcoman horse archers, the combined Lombard, Burgundian and Franconian host arrived in Iconium [Konya], and put the city to siege.

    This fortified city had been established as the court of the Seljuk Sultan of Rûm, Kilij I Arslan, and, despite having been captured by the Franks in 1097, it was once again in Turkish hands. The Crusaders were aware that the Sultan himself was afield, personally coordinating the raiding parties in Phrygia to intimidate his Christian enemies, and by besieging his capital, they intended to force him into battle.
     
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    14. And here rest the valiant Lombards who took the Cross... (1101)
  • Turkish cava.jpg


    Drawing of the early 12th C. Seljuq heavy cavalry army


    Sultan Kilij Arslan of the Rûm Seljuks, despite his young age, was an experienced commander, and desired a great battle to shatter the aura of invincibility of the Christian invaders, whose feats impressed the mightiest lords of Dar-al-Islam. To do so, he made peace with his rival, Gümüştekin Dānishmand Ahmed Gazi, progenitor of a Turkish dynasty in Sebasteia and Charsianon, and together they marched against the Crusaders. He had attempted to gain the allegiance of Emir Radwan of Aleppo, but received a refusal on the grounds that he was honoring a truce with the Rhomaion Basileus.

    A couple days of indecisive engagements near Iconium in June 1101 were followed by a tactical victory of the Christian side, when a sudden downpour of rain thwarted the Turkish favored tactic of horse archery, as their horses trampled in the mud. Kilij Arslan, fearing to have lost the favor of Allah in that day, decided to abandon his capital city and retreat to a safer country in the heart of Asia Minor.

    Even in spite of the defeat of their suzerain, the citizens of Iconium resolved to resist the siege, and the battered and irritated Crusaders rearranged their placement to encircle the circuit of walls.

    During the siege, the rainy weather suddenly gave way to an unforgiving climate of sun-scorching days and cold nights. The Lombards, enraged by the losses suffered, impatient of awaiting the siege and histeric about a possible Turkish counterattack, pressed for the abandonment of the siege, demanding that they resume their path to Jerusalem. The Germans, in these difficult days, formed a vocal opposition, as did many of the Burgundians, arguing that capturing Iconium was necessary to fulfill their vows to the Emperor, and to ensure a safe transit through Asia, but they remained a minority.

    Bishop Anselm IV had fallen into the dangerous trap of demagogy: he started believing his own maniacal vocalizations, proclaiming that he was being visited by the ghosts of the Apostles, who arrogated them to go immediately to Jerusalem. The Italianophone crowd was enraptured by a rather hazardous mixture of paranoia, fanaticism and deprivation, whose effect was multiplied hundredfold by the apocalyptic imagery invoked by the Bishop of Milan. Hardly an unique episode, as the new Christian millenium witnessed a revival of sorts of apocalypticism in western Europe, not seen since the fall of the Roman Empire. The turn-of-the-century periods, in particular, experienced these kind of trends, and Anselm of Milan simply repeated and dramatized popular creeds of the epoch.

    In any event, the insistence of the Lombards in marching to Jerusalem provoked a fragmentation of the pilgrim column, with the larger part of the host (not only the Lombards, but many Frenchmen as well) marching eastwards towards Cilicia, while a remnant commanded by Constable Conrad, Count Palatine Stephen of Burgundy, and the Greek general Nikephoros Bryennios in the siege of Iconium, believing that the long-term success of the pilgrimage would depend on the submission of that stronghold.

    In this regard, Duke Eudes I of Burgundy, unlike Bishop Anselm IV, was genuinely aware about the necessity of establishing in Iconium a safe point between Europe and Syria, but was, nonetheless, eager to march to Jerusalem, fearing that he might die before reaching it, and decided to follow the Lombards with his own entourage, believing earnestly in the God-given nature of their mission. He was, after all, a veteran of holy wars in Spain, and trusted his life to the will of God. After the expulsion of the Turks from near Iconium, he expected that they would be able to march to Syria unopposed.

    In this, he was mistaken, as the Sultan capitalized on the division of the Crusaders to attack.

    Anyone might have been tempted to equate Conrad’s reluctance to sheer cowardice (as a certain Italian author viciously remarked: “the German Constable was like a child that cried in the dark”), but, in hindsight, it proved to be a very sensible decision – so much that he was able to convince Count Stephen of Burgundy to remain in his side instead of marching with the Lombards – and later sources do not attribute to him the grim fate of the expedition.

    Whatever the cause: cowardice, premonition, earnest advice from the more experienced Greek allies, the Franconian Constable would, in a matter of weeks, see the hurried return of his former Burgundian and Lombard colleagues, reduced to meager and bloodied parties of desperate survivors after being ambushed by the Turks near the town of Heraclea Cybistra [m. Ereğli], while hundreds of other faithful, over the course of several days, had either been left as corpses in the cragged hills of Asia or submitted to slavery, so far from Jerusalem, and even farther from their homes. Yes... Kilij Arslan had obtained the triumph he desired, and the humiliation of the Crusaders resounded throughout both Dar-al-Islam and Christendom. Bishop Anselm IV had either been killed or enslaved and would later be canonized a martyr, despite the fact that it had been his recklessness the principal cause of the disaster. The Frankish Duke Eudes I of Burgundy also fell in battle, but some of his vassals, led by his kinsman Gislebert of Faucogney, successfully escaped, and hastened back to Iconium.

    Even if none of the citizens of Iconium came to witness the defeat of the Lombards and Burgundians, their resolve was strengthened by the news of Crusader defeat, while the morale of the besiegers plummeted.

    Some days later, the victorious Turks under Kilij Arslan and Danishmend Ghazi returned to Iconium to harass the besiegers with petty raids. Taking the overall leadership of the expedition, Constable Conrad and Count Palatine Stephen decided the best course would be to abandon the siege altogether. The rebound of the Turks made it impossible to remain encamped near Iconium, and thus the Germans, Burgundians and Lombard survivors returned to Dorylaeum, pressured by the overjoyed Turkish cavalry, and pleaded for reinforcements from Constantinople.

    Kilij Arslan then stopped the chase and returned to Iconium to celebrate his victory, believing the expedition to have been terminated.

    What he could not have known, however, was that another grand army of armed pilgrims was just now coming from Europe, mainly from France, but also from Aquitaine and Bavaria, accompanied by a Rhomaion veteran army led by Emperor Alexios himself. They arrived in Dorylaeum a week after the army of Conrad and Stephen returned, and, after consolidating their forces, they immediately marched back to Iconium, perhaps expecting to catch the Seljuk Sultan by surprise.
     
    15. The Battle of the Lycus River (1101)
  • Well, another update coming. A rather big, and, I believe, momentous one. Let's get back to Asia, where new Crusaders arrived after the recent Lombard massacre at the hands of the Seljuk Turks...

    __________________________________________________________________________________


    d7e580cd8e4eac91ca31f1f14add51ef.jpg


    As we have said previously, the Franks led by Count William II of Nevers had crossed the Adriatic Sea from the Greco-Italian emporium of Bari, and then traversed the ancient Via Egnatia (connecting Dyrrachium [Durrës] and Constantinople) with his mixed contingent of Nivernois, Bourbonnais and Sancerrois, in a surprisingly peaceful journey.

    As soon as he arrived in Constantinople, Count William II heard about Bishop Anselm’s and Duke Eudes Borel’s journey deep into the kingdom of the dreaded “Skythikoi”, and, in a quick meeting with Emperor Alexios, expressed his hurry to join the Crusaders. By then he was, obviously, unaware that the Turks were about to counterstrike against the Latins and make the dry soil of Asia the graveyard of hundreds of their men and women. At the Basileus’ behest, however, the French seigneur decided to await in Nicomedia for the rest of the Europeans who were coming to Constantinople – the one comprised of French, Aquitanians, Gascons, Bavarians and Austrians which had merged in Hungary. Of course, the Emperor had been warned in advance about the approach of the third Frankish force whose allegiances were divided between William IX of Aquitaine, Hugh of Vermandois, Welf I of Bavaria and Ida of Babenberg, because their insubordinate troops provoked various incidents in the Morava and Strymon valleys.

    Nevertheless, true to his reputation as a magnanimous suzerain, Basileus Alexios received the new arrivals with open arms, bestowing the stupefied Frankish marshals with many offerings of gold, jewelry and silk. Like many of their predecessors, the Franks, whose worldview was shaped by the idea that the monarch’s power had to be demonstrated accordingly, were amazed to gaze upon the gilded chambers of the Constantinopolitan palaces and basilicas, the impressive parade of the imperial guards, and the marvelous ostentation, and so were quick to provide their oaths of fealty to the Emperor. In this case, however, Alexios was in a hurry, and urged the Crusaders to cross the sea to continue the war in Asia, explaining to them that he intended to join their campaign to face the Turks.

    In the last days of July 1101, the Latin army joined together in Nicomedia with the recently arrived Nivernois, as well as the Franconians of Count Conrad, the Burgundians of Count-Palatine Stephen and the surviving Lombards, led by minor gastaldi and rettori. Much like the auspicious unification of the princely hosts of the First Crusade, this combined host merged their forces and, after a week, were joined by the Basileus himself, who, after concluding his preparations, had mustered a force of thousands of Rhōmaîoi skoutatoi, as well as his crack force of Varangians and a number of Pecheneg and Vardariotai auxiliaries.

    From there, they immediately took the ancient Roman road directly to Iconium.


    *****​

    Despite the fact that the immense size of the host would present a substantial numerical and resource advantage over the whatever Muslim opponents might appear in Asia, with the representatives of various nations assembled to undertake the holiest enterprise, the gathering of such disparaging companies of soldiers and pilgrims actually exacerbated the tensions between the Crusaders, and, like it happened with the veterans of the First Crusade, it threatened not only to dissolve the army, but also to provoke the failure of the whole expedition. For example, the Franconians and Bavarians, despite fostering some sort of solidarity by sharing the same language and the same customs, were enticed into factionalism by the rivalry between their leaders: Conrad was proud of his reputation as the Emperor’s most loyal vassal, while Duke Welf of Bavaria had previously warred against Henry IV in as a partisan of the anti-king Rudolf of Swabia, in the height of the Investiture Controversy. On the other hand, the lords of Nevers and Bourbon held a serious antagonism towards the feudal suzerains of Aquitaine and Burgundy, due to countless generations of petty warfare and grudges between their aristocrats. The Lombards felt alienated, having been reduced from the a large assembly of overjoyed pilgrims to a bunch of humiliated and mutilated beggars, whose apocalyptic demeanor was even now inflamed by delusional visions of Bishop Anselm’s ghost, who would allegedly appear in their camp near Iconium at midnight with a sword of fire to exhort vengeance upon the infidels.

    The lack of a unifying spiritual authority such as Adhemar de Monteil threatened to break the Crusaders apart. Some of them argued that a maritime voyage from the Aegean Sea directly to Genoese Gaza would be safer, while others believed they should simply follow the same route used by the First Crusaders, while many cried for an immediate vendetta campaign against the Saracens.

    In this phase of the expedition, thus, Emperor Alexios’ presence was fundamental. His paramount status and dignity as monarch of the “golden city”, coupled with the perception that he was a patron and guide of the Crusade in Asia, as well as a suzerain of the Crusaders, made his solemn and stern voice to be heard above every agitated utterances, and so the great lords of Europe acquiesced to his command, having previously proclaimed their allegiance to him as liege in Constantinople.

    *****​

    Like Alexios had foreseen, in fact, the Seljuks were indeed surprised by the arrival of yet another host of Franks in such a short span of time after the destruction of Bishop Anselm’s host. The Danishmend Bey had already departed back to his own court in Sivas, but immediately hurried back to Iconium to assist his ally, Kilij Arslan, who, once again, abandoned his capital to seek and hunt the invading combatants with his own crack force of horsemen, likely unaware about their composition and size (perhaps hoping that he would exterminate them with as much nonchalance as he had done with the Lombards).

    Now, the Turcoman way of war depended on the presence of flat terrain and expansive fields – to capitalize on maneuverability and horsemanship tactics so practical to a nation that barely a couple generations earlier was still grazing in the unending steppes of Tartary – and so the Seljuk monarch never even considered the idea of entrapping his proud horsemen in a walled town, even if it was the seat of his court. This also explains why, as we will see later, his contingent in the subsequent battle was almost entirely devoid of heavy infantry; no sources (either Christian or Islamic) try to explain his strategy, so we can only assume that Kilij Arslan’s intention was to harass and possibly attract the brave but undisciplined host of Europeans to an ambush or at least a more useful terrain for his horsemen, like he had done before. His infantry forces (mostly constituted of Anatolian, Caucasian or Kurdish serfs as well as Turcoman and Arabic peons) were left to garrison Iconium. Indeed, the Turks had control over other Anatolian cities in the road to Syria, such as Philomelion and Heraclea Cybistra but the defenses of Iconium were much more dependable for a smaller infantry force to face such a large invading army.

    Indeed, while the Latins and Hellenes advanced from Nicaea, passing through Dorylaeum, Polybotus [Bolvadin] and Philomelion [Akşehir], the Turkish raiding companies harassed their immense column, but their attempts of dissolving its cohesion or even attracting them to an ambush were in vain. By Alexios’ command, the whole army was divided in two unequal parts:

    1. A smaller and more mobile contingent of heavy, light and archer cavalry (likely the Aquitanians and Gascon “jinetes”, as well as Pecheneg auxiliaries of the Empire, and some divisions of French and Burgundian cavaliers), led by George Palaiologosone of the Empire's finest generals –, Hugh of Vermandois – chosen because he was a veteran of the First Crusade and of all the European magnates was the one more familiar with Asian geography – and Roger FitzDagobert – a Norman knight who had defected from the army of Robert Guiscard to Rhōmaîoi service decades before, and was likely one of the few Latins the Emperor trusted enough to assist and contain the urges of the westerners = their purpose would be to keep the Turks at bay, as well as to forage and scout for ambushes, and to chase them if necessary;​
    2. The rest of the army, led by the Emperor himself, and his son-in-law Nikephoros Bryennios, as well as separate divisions of other Frankish grandees, who only accepted the Basileus’ primacy because they could hardly accept one another as a leader of the whole expedition = they would try to march right behind the vanguard, obviously in a slower pace, with the Crusader men-at-arms distributed in cohesive regiments to protect the supply wagons (transported in the middle of the column).​

    In any case, it became clear that Kilij Arslan had merely been attempting to check their inexorable advance, but now that the Danishmends finally joined him with another substantial cavalry contingent, their attacks became even more aggressive, and he would command large sorties and offensives to attempt to assault their flanks and perhaps outmaneuver them, but were obstructed by the insistent forays of by the enemy vanguard. Nevertheless, his own delay in retreating back to the safety of Iconium and awaiting for the Crusaders to perhaps become vulnerable after mounting a siege camp, however, would in fact cause his undoing.

    When the Turks attempted to cross the Lycus River, close to the unwalled city of Laodicea (from where the main Imperial and Crusader force was currently departing), they were surprised by a flash flood in the watercourse, which inundated the ford they had used to cross to this side. Now, they were effectively stranded on the same side as the Christians. George Palaiologos’ vanguard, chasing them to their heels, finally cornered them in a flooded plain further south near the river in that afternoon (and some kilometers south of Lake Ilgin), where the Turks were attempting to cross on foot and bringing the horses. Realizing they could not waste this opportunity of striking the vulnerable Mahometans, the Rhōmaîoi and Crusader cavalry vanguard attacked them before awaiting for the rest of the army, and, indeed, in this first phase of the battle, they had the edge due to the disorganization of the Turkish army, whose riders desperately tried to return from the elevated and agitated river, lest their own colleagues who had yet to enter the water would be massacred.

    When the most advanced detachments of the main column of the Christian host arrived in a hurry, some five or six hours later, the battle had turned into a bloody stalemate of horseback melee, dark mud and agony cries, all of which only serves as a testament of Kilij Arslan’s tactical acumen, for a lesser leader could have failed to prevent the complete slaughter of his soldiers, surrounded as he was.

    The arrival of the Basileus and his westerner coalition, however, made the scales of the balance fall in the Cross’s favor, as the much more numerous Christian host, even if disorganized by the forced march (and tired and hungry and thirsty and marred by diseases…) rapidly staged a pincer maneuver to envelop the paralyzed Crescent bannermen, pressing them against the margins of the flooded river, where one false step in the treacherous mud could literally end one’s life. Ironically enough, the tactic that the Muslims named “crescent maneuver” had been used to great effect by Alp Arslan to decimate Romanos Diogenes’ army in Manzikert, and even through a thousand years of distance one can conjure Alexios’ priceless visage as he contemplated his foes be submitted to the same grisly fate.

    True enough, Alexios’ plan could have backfired, actually. The Frankish chronicler of the battle describes a phase in the engagement (omitted in Anna Komnene’s report) in which a substantial portion of heavy-armored horsemen, led by the Seljuq Sultan himself, formed a wedge and escaped the reach of the infantry pincer, maneuvering swiftly to attack the vulnerable Christian rearguard as they advanced steadily against the main body of the Turks, held by Danishmend Ghazi. The Basileus was forced to mobilize his battlefield reserves – mostly the Burgundian and French heavy cavalry – targeting the Turkish detachment and breaking them after a violent and arduous horseback melee. After this, Kilij Arslan escaped from the heated engagement and rejoined the main Seljuq corpus, hard-pressed by the frenzied assaults of the Lombard, Franconian, French, Bavarian and Rhōmaîoi spearmen, and the fearsome charge of the Varangian Guards, whose soldiers had wagered a prize of fifty hyperpyra to the one that brought more severed Turkish heads back to their camp.

    The Turks knew that the greatest advantage of the Franks were their mighty warhorses, so their archers were instructed to target the mounts first and the riders after, and, by the end of the day, the field would be littered with equine corpses, but once the double envelopment was concluded, the Turcomans had become so tightened up that most of them either dismounted or were also unhorsed, and tried desperate to create a defensive porcupine formations, but by then it was too late.

    At the hour of the Moon’s apex, the slaughter had finally finished; the muddy margins of the Lycus River turned into a morass of blood and guts. The brave and young Turkish Sultan had stayed to the end, while his hitherto ally escaped with a handful of retainers across the river back to Sebasteia; alas, Kilij Arslan was painfully aware that the perfidious Danishmend Emir had not brought to assist him not even a third of his own cavaliers, and had made but a half-hearted attempt to oppose the Franks and Rhōmaîoi in honor of their alliance.

    *****​

    Sultan Kilij Arslan, so covered in blood that his thin beard seemed dyed in red, was brought before the assembled Frankish magnates and threw his prized war bow before the Basileus, whose stern expression invoked the somber countenance of the marble statues of the palaces that the Turks had pillaged through this many years past. Now, in the bloodied grounds where his own men and their great horses had slain, the grandson of Alp Arslan the Great was forced to recognize suzerainty of the Emperor in Constantinople, and to relinquish most of his conquests. By his word as a vanquished warlord, he surrendered Laodicea in the Lycus, Iconium, Heraclea Cybistra and Tyana – which meant that the Empire had retaken a continuous territory in southern Anatolia, through the Taurus and the Antitaurus Mountains, securing the overland road to Antioch – but also Ancyra and Caesarea [m. Kayseri]. With this, Alexios intended to restore the defunct themata of the Bucellarians, Anatolics and Cappadocia, the very heart of Asia Minor.

    To the surprise of the Crusaders, unacquainted with the thoughtful diplomacy of the “Greeks”, Kilij Arslan was to be released after but a brief period in captivity, and allowed to retain a rump fief in northern Asia Minor, corresponding to the former provinces of Paphlagonia, Armeniacon, and a fraction of Charsianon. The westerners, rhapsodic because what they regarded as an easy triumph – even if it owed more to Alexios’ leadership than their own valor – went as far as proposing, in an assembly summoned by Count-Palatine Stephen of Burgundy, that they march against the remaining Turks in the north of the peninsula to avenge the death of “Saint” Anselm and his pious pilgrims, but Alexios himself, with careful wording, affably remembered the Latins about their urgency to go to the Jerusalem, and the magnates, agreeing that they had no more time to waste there, simply complied.

    The Basileus explained in private to the Crusade’s leaders that Kilij Arslan was worthy more alive than dead, for at least four reasons: (1) his martyr-like death might galvanize a more dedicated opposition from his remaining Seljuq kinsmen and vassals, or even from more powerful enemies, such as the Seljuqs of Iraq and Persia, who would be unwilling to negotiate in the future; (2) Kilij Arslan’s belief that Danishmend Ghazi had betrayed and abandoned him would only fester their mutual hatreds, and would prevent another alliance between them; (3) the remaining provinces of toothless Rûm Seljuqs would serve as a convenient buffer territory against any incursions from the other Anatolian conquerors, such as the Danishmends themselves, or the Mengujekids, or the Saltukids and others nearby, even more because the weakened Sultan would preserve his small principality with all obstinacy; (4) the complete removal of the Turks would create a dangerous and unpredictable power vacuum in eastern Anatolia, and could allow for the ascension of an even worse enemy in the near future – likely the Danishmends themselves.

    Truth was that the Basileus was conscious about his own available resources, which were considerably strained. Central Anatolia had been seriously depopulated of Hellenic populations in the wage of the Seljuq invasions, and the imperial administration would take some time (and expenditure) to reallocate people from the Balkan territories, as well as reorganize the provincial communities, taxes, armies, transportation of supplies, communications and so forth. An attempt of simply reannexing the whole Rûm domain, still inhabited by a multitude of hostile and warlike infidels, could be disastrous, and foster rebellions in other parts of the Empire, even now as their forces were concerned with Pecheneg incursions in the Danube and Norman raids in the Adriatic littoral. Besides, there was another unspoken reason for Alexios’ decision: keeping a disjointed cordon of weakened Turkish polities in Asia could also contain the expansionist ambitions of the unruly Armenians of Cilicia; a matter which the Emperor needed to address immediately.

    Of course, the Rhōmaîoi had no intention of leaving the Turks unsupervised and apt to launch counterattacks; the new enlarged frontier was to be occupied with veteran regiments and new recruits levied from southern Asia Minor to garrison the strongholds such as Ancyra and Iconium itself.

    Only time would tell if Alexios’ predictions were to become true, but, once the Crusaders were reminded of their pilgrimage, they gave up whatever poorly conceived plans of retaking Paphlagonia and Sebasteia from the Seljuqs and the Danishmends that they came to briefly discuss in the field encampment, and resumed their path to Syria, their goods only barely replenished by the frightened citizens of Laodicea and Iconium.

    *****​

    Afterwards, Kilij Arslan – the recent victory against the Lombards and Burgundians apparently forgotten as a disconcerting memory – travelled to his new lair; ironically enough, it was the stronghold that used to be the dynastic manor of the Komnenoi family, called “Kastra Komnenon”, but which the Turks pronounced “Kastamonu”, rendezvousing with his familiars and his vassals (which had been reallocated there before the Christians arrived in Laodicea), and sent messengers to the neighboring Islamic polities in search of alliances, excepting the Danishmends – to whom he promised only bloody revenge – but was refused by all of them, as the local Turkish strongmen relished in the ultimate humiliation of the Seljuq dynasty, in whose power vacuum they would be permitted to flourish.

    Afterwards, abandoned but unwilling to give up, the Rûm Seljuks would indeed turn against the Danishmends – as Alexios had predicted –, making of their vendetta a violent war. As we said previously, a substantial portion of the Rûmi army, notably the heavy infantry and the conscripted Muslim levies was intact, having not participated in the battle, and, in late 1101, they already had been pulverized to replenish the garrisons of the Paphlagonian fortresses.

    To ensure that both the Seljuks and the Danishmends were to remain low level threats, Alexios procured an agreement with minor Turkish princes in Anatolia, and also with the distant, but formidable King of Georgia, David IV, whose political isolation among the Muslims in Armenia and the Cuman pagans in Alania made him a dependable friend of the Constantinopolitan monarchy.


    __________________________________________________________________________________


    Comments and Notes: Just so you know: I actually had this chapter written some time ago, but became unsatisfied with the resulting draft. It was going going into a rather anticlimatic affair (in which I solved the battle with the Rûm Turks in barelly a paragraph), and, realizing this was a rather good opportunity of giving some insight in the "complicated" relationship between Eastern Romans and Crusaders, I rewrote the whole thing from scratch. For aspiring readers out there, this is a suggestion given by many renowned authors... if you are not satisfied with some piece of text, instead of trying to ammend it or reshaping it, it is better to copy and paste to a separate "may or may not throw away" document and simply rewrite it. Many times, it is good to start from the original point from where you went. Now, I gave more emphasis (and drama :biggrin:) to the battle itself, so you can remember that, IOTL, through the first three Crusades, Asia Minor witnessed some decisive military engagements between the Christians and the Turks, so I thought I would be doing a disservice to the Seljuqs by leaving them as a mere interlude chapter.

    Well, I hope you don't find gimmicky that the Turkish defeat came into a "crossing river" battle, specially considering that this part of Anatolia is a bit dry, and as I don't really know about Turkish geography, I simply supposed that it could as well be subject to weather changes from the Pontic mountains than any other place in Asia Minor, implausible as it might appear. Anyway, just have in mind that the Rûm Seljuqs are not completely annihilated, even if the crême de la crême of their army has indeed been vanquished.

    Also, I'm not really sure about the extent of the Rûm Seljuk territorial domain in 1101. The maps I found in the net are from very different periods (this one from Wiki is apparently an useful one), so I assumed that Kilij Arslan's "demesne" would orbit around Iconium and Ancyra, with a minor presence in Paphlagonia (easier to defend due to its more montainous geography), and not go well beyond Cappadocia in modern Central Anatolia Region of Turkey, especially considering that the Danishmends had an ostensibly even more expansive dominion in the middle of modern Eastern Anatolia Region.

    I believe that Alexios would be rather overstretched by an attempt of munching the whole of the Seljuk dominion (and I tried not to underestimate nor overestimate the impact of the Turkish "migration", but the sources I've seen point me to the conclusion that, unlike the Arabic conquests of the 7th/9th Centuries, the Seljuk invasion caused a grave breakdown not only in imperial administration, but also in the very economic pattern of Asia Minor, so far agrarian-base, and which would turn [at least in some parts, central Anatolia possibly being one of them] to a more pastoral steppe-like economy. I might be exaggerating, but I think its impossible to know these details by now), so I found the reasons pointed out above rather coherent with the "Byzantine" diplomatic and military policies of preserving networks of mutually counterproductive neighbors (such as the Pechenegs and Cumans, in this same timeframe, or the Russians and the Khazars, earlier on), which could justify the preservation of a weakened Seljuk regime against a potential aggression from the less constrained eastern Anatolian Turkish conquerors. The Danishmends historically did not prove to be a substantial threat to "Byzantium" likely because the Rûm Seljuks became the preeminent Muslim power in Asia Minor, but now the circumstances have changed.

    And don't worry, in future chapters we will see with more detail the situation of the Turkish, Armenian and Kurdish polities inhabiting the territory of the former Kingdom of Armenia (which was more or less balkanized by the Seljuk invasion).
     
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    16. The Two Armenias (1101)
  • 500px-Bagratuni_flag.svg.png


    Representation of the "Lion with the Cross", symbol of the Armenian Dynasty of Ani, the last independent Armenian polity in the Medieval Era, which would later be reused by the Rubenid princes of Cilicia


    The country of Cilicia in the late 11th Century became home and refuge for the Armenians, a hardy race coming from the highlands and plateaus south of the Caucasus Mountains and north of Mesopotamia, whose heart was the country between Lake Van and Mount Ararat, the very place where the Ark of Noah had docked after the waters of the Deluge drained. For millennia, the Armenians had fashioned their homes and traditions in these primeval valleys and daunting crags, ever since the age of the Babylonians and Assyrians.

    Throughout the centuries, their fortunes waxed and waned, but wise monarchs ensured the survival of their customs and lineages even in during the eternal wars between the great empires of the Occident and of the Orient, from the age of Alexander the Great to the reign of the Abbasids. Even when the kingdom were to disappear from the maps, cannibalized by hungry monarchies such as those of the Persians or of the Romans, Armenian civilization still existed, in the minds and hearts of these indomitable clans and families.

    In 1045 A.D., the lands of Armenia had been incorporated into Rhōmanía, whose Emperors deposed the proud Bagratuni dynasty, taking their last King Gagik II as a hostage to Constantinople. In less than a generation, however, the mighty Seljuks came from Persia and collapsed the whole of Asia east of Anatolia and south of Georgia. The legendary Armenian capital of Ani, with its thousand churches, was razed by Alp Arslan (1064), with so much violence that the dead bodies came to block the streets, and one could not go anywhere without stepping over them.

    Yet, even as their homeland became a ghost kingdom, without a Christian crowned prince to pass laws and judgments, the Armenians migrated, conquered and thrived. Linked solely by their common language and ancestry, by their elder customs and by their devoutedness to the oriental Christian doctrine of Miaphysitism, the Armenians in bands, clans and caravans, went to seek new kingdoms and settlements in Anatolia, in Syria, in Georgia and in the Levant.

    *****​

    The western European media, even to our days, likes to portray this period of Armenian History in dramatic overtones of “exile”, usually associated with the Biblical narratives of the Hebraic enslavement by the Egyptians, or the Babylonian captivity, as well as with the apocalyptic ideology of perdition and salvation that became so popular during the Crusader epoch. However, we must understand that this crystallized picture of the Armenian diaspora is mostly exaggerated by contemporary sources. We can hardly conceive a full-fledged migration of Armenian from their homeland, but rather small-scale establishments of landless nobles, accompanied by their retinues and kinfolks, as well as pulverized bands of adventurers and freebooters who sought to increase their own standing in the lawless eternal and turbulent frontier between Oriental Christendom and Islam, with a notable example being Philaretos Brachamios [Pilartos Varazhnuni], who had established a principality stretching from the Taurus range to the Euphrates basin.

    Among these conquerors, the most successful were certainly the Rubenids [Roupenids], a noble dynasty descended from the vanquished Kings of Ani, which, in the late 11th Century, was headed by a nakharar named Ruben [Roupen]. He had coalesced a faction of disgruntled lords against the regime of Constantinople, and, after the collapse of Philaretos Brachamios’ state, established himself in the citadel of Vahka [Feke], in the former Rhōmaîōn province of Cilicia, just in the southern fringe of the Taurus mountains. Indeed, Cilicia had become a no-man’s-land during the centuries of conflict between Rhōmanía and the Umayyad Caliphate, but during the Macedonian renaissance, they had reannexed it, only so it could be lost to the hordes of Turcomans brought by the Great Seljuks. Now, as the Great Seljuk empire was collapsing, Cilicia (as well as Syria, Mesopotamia, and Armenia itself) became disputed grounds in the conflicts between the Turkish invaders, the native Greek-speaking Anatolian peoples, as well as Armenian, Syrian and Kurdish adventurers.

    Prince Ruben was de facto a sovereign ruler – he likely sought one day to resurrect the defunct Armenian monarchy – and increased his own fief by aggregating a constellation of towns and strongholds protected by the giant shield of the Taurus mountains, such as Pardzepert [m. Andırın], Sis [m. Kozan], Anazarbus [m. Anavarza] and Pendhòsis [m. Pozantı]. His popularity and his following increased tenfold due to his victories over the Rûm Turks and the preservation of his realm against the greedy Danishmends, so that by the end of the 11th Century, the framework for what would be called the “Armenian Realm of Cilicia” had already been established – also named “Lesser Armenia”, while their homeland in the Caucasus region became retrospectively known as “Greater Armenia”.

    By the time of the First Crusade, however, Ruben had been submitted by the sole unconquerable enemy – time – and anguished in senile daydreams in his palace in Vahka while his son and heir, Constantine [Konstandin], who fashioned himself a purple-born despot because of his marriage to Theophano, the grandniece of the deceased Emperor Nikephoros II Phokas, conducted actual administrative and military affairs.

    *****​

    In the eternal war against the Muslims – namely the Turkish conquerors which disputed pieces of the wreckage of the great Seljuk kingdom – the Armenians would find a common cause with the Crusaders. As it usually happens in circumstances of conflict, bonds of friendship and esteem are forged by those fighting in the same side of the battlefield; in this case, the Christian faithful, even if centuries of dogmatic factionalism had preserved a stark distinction between the Latin and the Oriental creeds. As the Crusaders arrived in their new realm (since 1097 A.D.), the Armenians would give them moral and material support, even if they did not believe these mad adventurers and pilgrims could truly succeed in vanquishing the mighty Islamic monarchies. In fact, resources brought from the Armenian coast and valleys had assuaged the suffering of the exhausted Crusaders as they wasted their miserable lives before the walls of the great Antioch that sat upon the Orontes River.

    If the Crusaders might be seen as convenient allies by Armenian eyes, the Emperor in Constantinople was certainly not. Despised out of his haughtiness in proclaiming himself the regent of God in Earth, out his greed in exacting tribute from a people suffering from deprivation, and out of his patronage for a rejected theological doctrine (Chalcedonianism), this abstract and distant personage, “the Basileus and Autokratōr”, was always regarded as a self-indulgent tyrant ruling over a debauched court of many vices, while the Armenians regarded themselves the tireless champions of the true faith in the desolate frontier against the heathens.

    For these reasons, the approach of Emperor Alexios I Komnenos, coming from Iconium together with the Europeans, panicked the so-called “Lord of the Mountains”, Constantine I Rubenid, as he, like his father, had become used to his independence, and had spent resources and efforts to quench foreign invasions by Turks and Kurds alike.

    *****​

    Alexios took the very existence of the Rubenids in Cilicia as a direct threat to his power. Not due to their geographic extent or disponible resources – in 1101, they were a minor princedom clinged to the collapsed remnants of Rhōmaîōi administration like leeches parasiting a moribund man – but, in fact, by their potential to grow in the lawless frontier as a greater threat to the Rhōmaîōi restoration. The memory of the usurpation of Philaretos Brachamios was very recent (he had died in circa 1090), and Alexios, now that his throne and his succession had been secured and his prestige elevated by triumphs not seen since the age of Basil the Bulgar-Slayer, sought to curb any expansionist designs that might threat the divine monarchy of Constantinople. The Rubenids ought to be contained, lest they might seize the whole of Cilicia, jeopardizing imperial interests in Cappadocia, Greater Armenia and Syria, much like the Danishmends and the other Turkic polities.

    The Crusaders had expected that Alexios would return to Constantinople after the peace treaty with Kilij Arslan was signed, and were thus surprised when he explained that first and foremost he must voyage to Cilicia as well.

    The Emperor arrived with the Crusaders in Tarsus already in the month of September 1101 A.D. The Cilician-Armenian court had been established in the stronghold of Vakha, as we have seen, but Constantinople only recognized Tarsus as the official gubernatorial seat. Prince Constantine of Armenia, realizing he was in a precarious position now that the Rhōmaîōi had triumphed over the Rûm Seljuks, dared not test the good will of the former suzerain, and thus voyaged to Tarsus to meet the Basileus.

    To his surprise, the Komnenos Emperor presented himself not as a conqueror or a triumphator, but rather as a mentor, or even as a father embracing an estranged son, whose smooth words spoke of trust, friendship and alliance against the “darkness of the crescent”. Yes, the Emperor, distant and solitary as he was in the Throne of the Caesars, had heard about and applauded the victories of Ruben of Ani against the cursed “Scythians”, while he, Prince Constantine, was deserving also of praise, his own name bringing a promise of Christian rebirth in the eastern frontier.

    Indeed, during the week’s Sunday prayers in Tarsus, the metropolitan prelate retold the Biblical parable of the prodigal son, an obvious inference that left Constantine unquiet. The Emperor did not seek war, and seemed willing to recognize the Armenian regime in Cilicia, but it was clear that he would not tolerate dreams of reconquest and glory, but solely the fulfillment of the duties to the Empire. Even if the Emperor was, at heart, a soldier, he knew that most of the times the interests of the Empire were better safeguarded by diplomacy and ceremony than by war. The tour de force in Cilician Armenia served this purpose: Alexios for the time being had no resources to spare in the military reconquest and occupation of such a perilous region, and considered the Seljuks in Asia and the Cumans and Normans in Europe to be much more immediate threats. Nevertheless, his mere presence in Cilicia right after a victory against the Turks would demonstrate to both Christians and Muslims that the country of the Armenians – both Lesser and Greater Armenias – was still an integral part of the empire, and would be safeguarded by Constantinople.

    Constantine was savvy enough to see through the masquerade, but, realizing that it was not the time to show strength, he decided to play his role in the farce, prostrating himself at the feet of the monarch and proclaiming undying loyalty to the defender of the faith, gladly receiving precious gifts, as a vassal was expected to receive from the liege. In return, Constantine was recognized as “Doux of Cilicia”, and granted the right to levy troops and collect taxes in the Emperor’s name, an arrangement supposed to avoid frictions for the time being.

    These solemnities also catered to Imperial interests by impressing the recently arrived Crusaders, as they, coming a society that put enormous value in the divinely ordered relation between a suzerain and his subordinates, were left overawed by the sheer aura and puissance of the Constantinopolitan monarchy, whose kings were always clad in gold and silk and purple. From whichever destitute village from France or pig-farm in Germany each of these pilgrims had come, he would certainly be stupefied and dazzled by such a gilded display of authority.

    Alexios did not remain for long, however. With the communications and transport routes through western Asia Minor secured for now, he intended to employ his resources to rebuild and repopulate the settlements in Anatolia, fortifying Iconium and Ancyra as bases from whence other expeditions could be undertaken against the Turks in the next campaigning seasons.

    The Crusaders followed their way, crossing the Amanus Mountains – the range that separates Cilicia from Syria – in October 1101, arriving in Antioch in the same month.


    ______________________________________

    Comments and Notes: First of all, I know that the flag I posted above is NOT the one that effectivelly used by the Armenian Roupenids in Cilicia. In fact, they used the red lion rampant motif (link), but it seems that this symbol would only be used in earnest by King Hetoum, who founded the Hetoumid dynasty (and would later by also used by the Lusignan family of Cyprus). The Lion with the Cross was a symbol of the monarchy of Ani, and, considering that Ruben himself claimed heritage from the Kings of Ani, even if he did not repeat their heraldry (and heraldry was very informal in these days anyway...), it could be a fitting imagery for a legitimate successor to the Kingdom of Armenia.

    The mention about the Ark of Noah in Mt. Ararat is actually based on the Bible. The Book of Genesis (KJV 8:4) says that the ark came to rest there after the Flood; this also explains why, much later, the term "Caucasians" was used in race-definitions, side by side with "Semitic" and "Hammite" (in analogy to the sons of Noah), because supposedly mankind would have spread from the Caucasus.

    The description of the massacre of Ani by the Seljuks is quoted word-by-word from the eyewitness account of Sibt ibn al-Jawzi, just so you know I'm not trying to demonize the Turks or the Muslims in general. On the other hand, as I said in the chapter itself, even if the Armenian Kingdom ceased to exist as a sovereign polity, it is certain that the Armenian proto-national identity - based on ethnic and traditional ties - still remained, but there was a trend for military adventurism in the nearby regions by Armenian warlords, taking advantage of the chaotic state of the Seljuk conquest of the Near East.

    Philaretos Brachamios is an interesting historical character, and is a fascinating example of the "spirit of the ages" in the Orient during the eve of the Crusading/Komnenoi era. He went unmentioned so far because he died just a few years before the First Crusade, and his large principality did not survive him. In fact, the Crusader County of Edessa, founded by Baldwin of Boulogne, was built from the "wreckage" of Brachamios' monarchy, now partitioned between the Turkic conquerors and minor Armenian lords.
     
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    17. The Crusaders meet Bohemond (1101)
  • The new Crusaders’ voyage through Rhomaion Syria was uneventful. The Seljuk Sultan of Aleppo, Fakhr al-Mulk Radwan, who had previously fought the First Crusaders in the Siege of Antioch, honored his peace treaty with the Emperor in Constantinople, and made no move against the newcomer Crusaders, even after they were away from the safety of Antioch’s walls. Nevertheless, feeling now paranoid and isolated in face of the mighty Rhōmaiōn armies and apparently unstoppable flow of European invaders, he remained ever vigilant, and his scouts followed the Crusader column daily, while a reliable network of spies produced useful intelligence about their advance. In time, Radwan’s suspicions about a Crusader attack against his diminished principality would come true, but, for now, the Franji left him alone, following the old Roman road along the Levantine coast.

    The port-town of Laodicea [m. Latakia] – one of the cities where the first seven churches mentioned in the Book of Revelations had been founded – was the de facto boundary separating the Rhōmaiōn Empire and the newborn Latin Dominion of Jerusalem. In the legal aspect, of course, Raymond of Toulouse, the Prince of Jerusalem and Duke of Galilee, had sworn an oath of fealty towards Emperor Alexios, which meant that he was personally bound to the Constantinopolitan regime, but, on the other hand, the region of Judaea itself was considered as a de iure ecclesiastic jurisdiction inserted into Papal dominion.

    Almost the whole Levantine coast, from Tortosa all the way down to Acre and Haifa (which the Franks called “Caiphas”), were still in Muslim hands. There was no single ruler over the region, but rather a myriad of dynasts and minor emirs whose aristocracy came from native Levantine and Syriac stock, whose regimes were usually supported by Bedouin or Kurdish vassals and mercenaries (and now Turcoman as well), all of which had been Arabized during the course of centuries.

    The Seljuks had established nominal overlordship above the whole of Lebanon, but their conquerors never exerted direct political control over any of them, even in the few years during which the Artuqids had ruled in Jerusalem (early 1090s). This, in fact, explains why the Fatimids had succeeded in conquering the region so quickly after the Seljuk succession wars. In various cities (such as Tyre and Acre), the Fatimids had been invited by the local Qadis and Sheikhs, and their troops would be received with celebration and gifts by the locals, Syriac Christians and Jews included. Indeed, the sophisticated Arabic elite ruling over the Shi’ite Caliphate was adored in a way that the brutish barbarians from beyond Iran would never be, and even less the foreign and haughty Crusaders.

    The years after the establishment of the Frankish Dominion of Jerusalem would witness the gradual capture of these ancient coastal metropolises founded by the ancient Phoenicians. The pattern observed in Ascalon and in Jaffa – in which a mobile force of Frankish infantry encircled the fortifications, coordinating attacks with a maritime force, usually of Italian navigators – would be repeated in many other cases, such as in Caesarea, Acre, Haifa and (later) Tyre. Bishop Adhemar de Monteil himself would participate in the siege of Caesarea, and the episode in which he personally blessed every Venetian ship that contributed to the Crusader victory became a famous anecdote in Italy for centuries, the so-called “Blessed Fleet” of Venice becoming a common artistic motif in churches and households through the 13th Century onwards.

    This circumstances, after all, explains how the Italian merchant republicans gained important concessions in the Orient: the Genoese in Gaza and Ascalon, the Pisans in Jaffa and Tyre, the Venetians in Caesarea and so forth. The privileged status these mariners and traders – which would include especial market rights, lessened tariffs and separate jurisdiction – was warranted by a substantial military contribution during the early years of the Jerusalemite kingdom. Duke Raymond and Archbishop Adhemar in particular welcomed the Italians, as they brought an influx of much necessary resources from Europe and bolstered the Latin populations in strategic sensitive areas.


    *****​

    When the hosts of the new Crusade arrived in the Levant, reaching Sidon [m. Sayda] in late November 1101, they were surprised by the harsh temperate season, with Mediterranean storms and cold nights, and also by the news that Bohemond of Taranto was campaigning in the nearby country.

    The Europeans did not expect to meet one of the veterans of the first expedition so far to the north, but apparently the Italo-Norman warlord was conducting military operations in the region between Beirut and Damascus since the previous year, with a retinue of a few dozen knights and a bunch of mercenaries of varied origins, including Syrian and Turcopole adventurers, to vanquish the raiding parties sent by Duqaq, Emir of Damascus (Radwan's brother). Bohemond had such a reputation and fame that the news about his whereabouts spread quickly, for even the most fearsome enemies of Christ recognized his valor and bravery. The Norman lord was found sojourning in Jezzine [Jizzīn], a secluded town of vineyards surrounded by mountains and pine forests in southern Lebanon, and was invited to join the pilgrims’ in their journey to the Holy City.

    It came to pass that, after the acquisition of Ramla, Lydda and Jaffa by the Normans (back in 1099 A.D.), Duke Raymond of Galilee, who had since become also the Lord of Ascalon by right of conquest, became alarmed and concerned about Bohemond’s ambitions, and, taking advantage of the fact that the newly-established high-court of Jerusalem was hitherto dominated by his own Toulousain and Provençal countrymen, he decided to use political and jurisdictional expedients to thwart Bohemond’s attempts of crafting for himself a reliable demesne in Palestine. He might be the Baron of Jaffa and Ramla, but he would be entitled to nothing else. When Bohemond marched against Haifa, in the ends of 1099 A.D., Raymond warned him that the city, if captured, would have to be annexed to the Dominion of Jerusalem, a concession that the Norman prince seemed unwilling to make.

    Then, in 1100 A.D., when Bohemond advanced further north, to attempt the siege of Acre, again with the support of the Pisan fleet that had helped him, in the previous year, to capture Jaffa. His attempts of storming the formidable fortifications resulted in a bloodbath, and, losing more men than he could even afford (as did the Pisans, who then returned to Jaffa and from there went to assist in the blockade of Haifa, which seemed to be a better option), Bohemond gave up the siege by the midst of 1100, and returned to Ramla. In that same year, Haifa fell to siege by Raymond’s troops, and he immediately advanced upon Acre, submitting the city to siege.

    Bohemond, frustrated and infuriated that Raymond had apparently usurped his own self-ascribed prizes, moved further north, temporarily abandoning Jaffa, and was welcomed by Héribrand III of Hierges in Tiberias, an ancient Romano-Jewish balneary located on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. Héribrand was a baron who had come to Jerusalem in Duke Godfrey’s retinue, and captured the city of Tiberias in his lord’s name some days before he passed away. Then, the Lord of Hierges had remained there in the Archbishop’s stead, and proved to be an useful friend to Bohemond and his companions, nurturing no love for the uncharismatic and phlegmatic Raymond. Using Tiberias as a headquarters, the Italo-Normans and Lorrainers, with a cadre of Near-Eastern sellswords, launched a series of raids against the Islamic fiefs north of the Sea of Galilee, advancing deep into the frontier between 1100 and 1101. This acts incurred in the fury of the Emir Duqaq of Damascus, who had previously allied Kerbogha of Mosul and Radwan of Aleppo to destroy the First Crusade during the siege of Antioch.

    The instrument of Duqaq’s wrath was Zahir ad-Din Toghtekin, a formidable Turkish lieutenant, who would then, in the ends of 1100 and along 1101, conduct a series of incursions in southern Lebanon and northern Palestine to persecute the Franks, without much success.


    *****​

    The Norman prince was a very charismatic man, of majestic posture and mesmerizing talk. Unlike Raymond, who grew opposed to his ambitions due to their own egotistical purposes in the Levant, the lords of Aquitaine, Burgundy and Germany could scantly deny the highest honors and esteem to a hero of the First Crusade.

    In a matter of weeks, as he traversed with the lords in their way to Jerusalem, the son of Robert Guiscard made friends with the Duke of Aquitaine, William IX "the Troubadour", whose shared interests included the passion for lyric poetry and race horses (William being a pioneer of the troubadour music and an avid racer), as well as the common antipathy towards Raymond of Toulouse. Bohemond also became a champion of sorts of the remaining Lombards, whose contingent had been left “orphaned” of a leader after the slaying of Bishop Anselm IV at the hand of the Turks. After all, Bohemond, despite being a Norman by blood, was by any means an Italian, speaking a Lombard dialect, and being acquainted with their customs and their way of life.

    As they went along the pleasurable landscapes of coastal Lebanon, Bohemond retold the tales of the First Crusade in bonfires, surrounded by thousands of listeners, entrancing them with images of violence, of glory, of hunger, of salvation and of otherworldly presages. Some treated him as a fellow pilgrim, others warranted him the honors dedicated to a knight, while many others regarded him as a herald of sorts, of the promised holy land and of the fulfilment of a collective aspiration of achieving spiritual renewal in the very place where Christ had died and had conquered death itself. In these days, Bohemond obtained a following that he would soon enough harness to fulfill his own aspirations in the Orient.

    He at first tried to convince the new Crusaders of the necessity of capturing Sidon and Tyre – explaining that he desired to become the protector of these cities against the savagery of the Emir of Damascus, whose armies were still at large and hostile to the Christians – but the somewhat amicable disposition of the Arabic dynasts of these metropolises, quick to provide much needed resources and supplies to the marching column, from horses to food, made the leaders of the Crusade oppose what they figured would be unnecessary bloodshed. They wanted to reach the Holy Sepulcher, as soon as possible, to fulfill their vows and attain the promised redemption, happily proclaiming that they would all bow in a grand mass with Archbishop Adhemar of Jerusalem, so that their prayers would resound in the heavens. Bohemond then avoided making other requests of this kind, believing that in time he would be able to take advantage of the goodwill of his fellow armed pilgrims.

    Duke Raymond of Galilee met these new Crusaders in the same month, coming from directly from Haifa. The Toulousains and Provençals had failed to conquer Acre after some months of siege, so their suzerain retreated to the recently captured city of Haifa. The leaders of the Crusade, overjoyed with the prospect of imitating the fortunes and feats of the princes of the first expedition, applauded Raymond and bid him to lead their way to Jerusalem, discussing new plans to secure the newly established “Dominion of Christ” by mean of arms.

    Indeed, Raymond, in his capacity was commander-in-chief of the new nation, was mustering all of his meager forces to respond to a second grand Fatimid invasion, because the Vizier of Egypt, Al-Afdal Shahanshah, was (yet again) commanding the armies of Allah against the “Franji”.


    ______________________________________

    Notes and comments: this chapter demonstrates how heterogeneous and complex the Medieval Near East civilizations were, dispelling the myth usually propagated that the Crusaders were warring against a monolithic Islamic empire of “Saracens”. Levantine geopolitics were more than used with foreign warlord cliques enforced by an aristocracy of armed thugs, be them Sunni Turks or Christian Franks. This pattern was observed also in Syria – where the Rhomaion imperial armies and Armenian adventurers disputed with the remnants of the Seljuk monarchy – in Mesopotamia – a battleground between the Persianized Turkic nations and the Arabic remnant of the Baghdad Caliphate – and Iran and the Caucasus. Of course, the arrival of the Franks was traumatic due to the sheer violence of their attacks, and the imposition of wholly alien cultural customs and religious imprints, but once the chaos of conquest gave way to organized structures of political power, the acceptance of a foreign domination by the vanquished peoples came easier, as a fact of life.

    If you glanced on the information about the dislike of the Duke of Aquitaine for Raymond of Toulouse, it is interesting to note that, IOTL, Duke William IX of Aquitaine claimed Raymond’s fief out of the right of his wife, Phillipa (who was Raymond’s niece and daughter of the previous Count of Toulouse), the legitimate heir to the county. Before the Crusade of 1101, the Duke of Aquitaine had conquered Toulouse, dethroning Raymond’s son Bertrand, but, after William decided to embark on the Crusade, he mortgaged the whole fief back to Raymond’s son. Later, after the Crusade, he would again conquer Toulouse, this time from Raymond's infant son Alphonse-Jordan. As you might realize, considering that the Aquitainians were among the most powerful magnates of western Europe, divergences about them will produce very interesting long-term consequences.
     
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    18. Battles of Gaza and Rafah (1101)
  • The Frankish state of Jerusalem through its history faced a number of threats to its very existence. Sometimes it is easy to forget about this detail, considering that the settlement lasted for so long after its initial establishment, but, in fact, its geopolitical position in the Near East was very precarious, much like that of a monkey balancing on a tightrope. The destruction of the realm of Jerusalem, in the eyes of the Muslims – from Al-Andalus to Persia – was a divine commandment, and the Latins were surrounded by them.

    Al-Afdal Shāhanshāh, Vizier of Egypt, had been one of Jerusalem’s earliest adversaries, and, during his lifetime, proved to be one the greatest of its existential threats, possibly even more than the mighty Seljuks of Rûm. In 1099, Al-Afdal had led an Egyptian army against the Crusaders led by Archbishop Adhemar and Raymond of St. Giles after they successfully captured Jerusalem and massacred its Muslim and Jewish inhabitants. He had, however, severely underestimated the discipline, strength and resolve of the Christians, believing they were nothing above a bunch of barbarians like the Turcomans, and met them in the outskirts of Gaza. Despite the numerical superiority, his army was relatively unprepared, and panicked in face of the determined resistance of the Latin veterans.

    In the sea, his fleet met some shameful defeats, and, after the Egyptian galleys retreated to Alexandria for repairs, the eastern Mediterranean was seemingly dominated by the sudden outpour of Italian squadrons.

    *****​

    It is likely that Al-Afdal had already mustered a formidable military contingent to attempt a siege of Gaza and Ascalon, and of Jerusalem, but when he heard about the coming of another wave of Crusaders, in the midst of 1101, he became apprehensive, and decided to await, levying even more forces. In these months, while the Crusaders traversed Syria and entered Lebanon, two separate Fatimid diplomatic missions were sent to Damascus and to Constantinople, seeking with Duqaq an alliance and with Alexios Komnenos a pact to contain the Latins (as he still believed that the Europeans were under the Emperor’s payroll, instead of being independent conquerors). In Damascus, his diplomats were well received, but its Emir made it too clear that he desired Palestine for himself, irritating the Egyptians, and thus the negotiations for an alliance quickly broke down, while the Greeks produced all but vague and meaningless responses.

    Thus, only in the later months of 1101, the Vizier in Cairo, undecided and unnerved, led his army to Gaza well after the end of the harvesting season, intending to attract the Christians to a battlefield of his own. Behind him followed a large army, with a core of Arabic-Egyptian men-at-arms supported by enslaved Turkish equestrians known as Mamluks, and assisted by the famed dark-skinned bowmen of Sudan [which the Crusaders named “Blemmyes”] and Bedouin mercenaries. A vanguard division put Gaza to siege, while the bigger part of the army awaited further to the south, near Rafah.

    Raymond of St. Giles had joined his Toulousain-Provençal forces with the remnant Lorrainers of late Duke Godfrey and now with combined host of Lombards, Normans, Germans, French, Burgundians, Aquitanians, and even Syrians and Turcopoles. They were officially led by none other than Archbishop Adhemar himself (even if Duke Raymond actually conducted the tactical operations).

    In this context, the arrival of a new wave of Crusaders was providential; indeed, the Jerusalemites believed that it was sent by God, coming in the latest hour to save His Kingdom from impending doom.

    *****​

    The second battle in Gaza, and the subsequent engagement in Rafah yielded other Christian victories, in spite of the Egyptian precautions.

    The previous triumph in 1099 had been successful from a tactical standpoint, and allowed for the capture of Ascalon and Gaza, but it did not prevent the Fatimids from sending another relief army in a few months. In 1101, however, the Crusaders decisive obtained a victory in the sandy grounds of Rafah that would, sometime later, be helped by an apparent act of God: the sudden death of Caliph Abū'l-Qāsim Ahmad al-Musta‘lī bil-Lāh in the same year forced Al-Afdal to remain in Egypt to preserve his political control against the rise of religious factionalism, leaving no opportunity for him to reorganizing his armies and attempt another invasion.

    The Egyptian army relied in a mass of bowmen supported by Berber camelry, and, differently from the overly swift and tumultuous Turkic tactics, while its footmen (light spearmen and heavy swordsmen) were organized on a rather rigid and immobile shieldwall formation. This proved to be a grave mistake, because to the Frankish preferred tactics of employing shock cavalry and dedicated melee, they were but cowered targets. This is not to say that it was an easy battle, because the Saracen heavy infantry held the ground with discipline, preserving the formation in an arduous clash. Nonetheless, when the light infantry and the archers were flanked by the Latin knights, the fighting turned into carnage, and their rout disintegrated the whole army out of sheer panic. The Berber riders then departed from the field, leaving the desperate spearmen to be slaughtered as well as their shieldwall collapsed.

    On the Crusader side, the heaviest casualties occurred among the unarmored infantry (as was the norm), with ranks of Lombards, Frenchmen and Germans decimated by the enemy archers. After the Frankish cavalry obtained advantage, Conrad of Fritzlar and Stephen of Burgundy coordinated a series of charges against the infantry lines of the Egyptians, disintegrating their formation after the Sudanese mercenaries routed.

    The bloody showdown was followed by a day of heavy gusts in the Levantine coast, so the fight could not be continued even if the belligerent parties tried it. The authorities of the Latin realm, then, in the name of the Pope in Rome, signed a truce with Vizier Al-Afdal Shahanshah, in which he ceded the small coastal fort of Darum [Deir al-Balah] as ransom for various prisoners.

    *****​

    Al-Afdal Shahanshah returned to Egypt with a broken and humiliated army, hurrying to Cairo to ensure that this humiliation might not inflame any kind of dissent against his despotic and farcical rule as power-behind-the-throne, unaware that his protégé, Caliph al-Musta‘lī bil-Lāh, was about to pass away.

    This time, the Crusaders had obtained a mild strategic victory, as the Fatimids would leave them in peace for the new few seasons, but soon they realized that the cunning Vizier of Egypt had succeeded in accomplishing at least one of his short-term goals: after the expulsion of the Venetian fleet operating near Tyre, hundreds of armed Arab-Egyptians and Bedouin conscripts were transported by sea to Tyre and Sidon so as to reinforce their garrisons, which would certainly frustrate the Jerusalemites’ plans of annexing these ports, and remind their citizens that the Caliph was still striving for the welfare of Muslims and Jews alike against the savagery of the Franji.

    After the victory in Gaza and Rafah, the Crusaders from France, Germany and Italy finally travelled to Jerusalem, and, accordingly, participated on the grand procession and a mass presided by a joyful Archbishop Adhemar, beneath a podium that supported what they believed to be the True Cross, certain that their tales of bravery and piety would echo through this new century.

    ____________________________

    Historical Notes: The Battles of Gaza and Rafah mirror the three battles that occurred in Ramla between 1099 and 1101. IOTL, the Fatimids remained in control of Ascalon after the First Crusade (due to a quarrel between Raymond and Godfrey), and thus they had an outpost from whence they could launch even deeper attacks in Palestine. I find curious that Al-Afdal’s first attack in Ramla coincided with the arrival of the remnants of the failed Crusade of 1101, so I mirrored the episode (which IOTL also resulted in a Crusader victory), but tried to find a plausible explanation for the (otherwise bizarre) coincidence. There is nothing to infer in the sources about Al-Afdal’s character, but, considering his age and his position, I dramatized his presentation by making him overcautious and indecisive, all of which contributed to the defeat.
     
    19. Lands of Purple and Cedar (1102)
  • As promised, here goes a new one :biggrin:
    _________________________________________



    Sem título.png


    Non-contemporary drawing representing the Nautcastèl [Qala'at al-Shaqif], c. 1150. This would be one of the earliest and most remarkable examples of Crusader fortifications in the Orient.


    With the Fatimid threat pacified, at least for the time being, and the vows of the Crusaders fulfilled by their long awaited arrival and veneration in Jerusalem, they were free to return to Europe, if they so desired. Indeed, many did, including magnates such as Ida of Austria and Hugh of Vermandois (who almost passed away with illness after the battle, but recovered). Accompanied by most of their retinues, vassals, levies and volunteers, carrying relics and gifts, they embarked in Venetian ships in Jaffa after waiting for spring in early 1102, and had safe voyages back to Italy, from whence they returned to France and to Austria.

    Others remained, having sworn oaths to devote themselves to the service of Christ, and proclaimed that they would only return to their homes after the infidel had been submitted in the Holy Land. Archbishop Adhemar accepted their oaths in the name of the Pope, and then they joined either Duke Raymond or Baron Bohemond in a series of campaigns against the Lebanese metropolises. Such were the cases of the Duke of Aquitaine and Poitou, of the Constable of the [Holy] Roman Empire, of the Duke of Bavaria and of the Count-Palatine of Burgundy.

    The Fatimid navy was still at large, and provided resources and military assistance to the resisting Muslim cities of the Levant, which, after the defeat of the main Egyptian army, feared an offensive from the Christians. The heads of Jerusalem wrote to Emperor Alexios in Constantinople, pleading for his assistance in the deliverance against the infidel. The Emperor, who, for many years, imitating his predecessors, had fostered a friendly relationship with the Fatimid Caliphate, and had previously hesitated in supporting the Crusaders in a gamble that might prove a futile effort. Now, however, after a decisive military triumph by the Latins, Alexios changed his stance on the matter, realizing that the Crusaders were determined to maintain for themselves a realm in the Orient, and decided to pledge his support to them in earnest. Adhemar and Raymond had proved to be valuable allies, as did the newly arrived feudal lords from France and Germany, and the presence of a friendly Christian nation could safeguard the Empire against the Islamic potentates coming from Asia and Africa. For these reasons, Alexios ordered a large part of the Imperial navy, whose fleets were docked in Rhodes and Cyprus, to operate in the eastern Mediterranean in early 1102.

    The Fatimid navy, despite having state-of-art vessels and experienced crews, was surprised and overwhelmed by the larger Rhōmaîoi fleets, and by the continuous arrival of battle worthy ships from Pisa, Venice and Genoa from the same year onwards, including a Venetian fleet led by the Doge himself (Ordelafo Faliero). The Fatimid ships sunk a minor Pisan fleet near Gaza in April 1102 and captured some Venetian merchant ships near Jaffa in the next month, but were in turn chased by a Rhōmaîoi squadron coming from Famagusta and returned to Alexandria. For the next seasons, the Greeks and Latin ships operated in the Levantine coast; they failed to prevent some Egyptian amphibious raids against Ascalon and Jaffa, but succeeded in their task of functioning as a deterrent from ships coming from the Nile Delta, buying time for the land forces of the Crusaders to conquer the Lebanese cities.

    *****​

    The city of Acre was well-fortified and had formidable Arab-Egyptian garrison, promised to be a nut very hard to crack. In fact, Raymond had, in 1100, attempted to see it annexed to the Dominion of Jerusalem peacefully, and the Qadi of Acre had then provided a substantial tribute in exchange for his own throne. In the next year, however, the Fatimids shipped inside Acre a force of almost 800 men-at-arms, and Raymond decided it had become a liability. The Qadi closed the gates when Raymond approached, and, after some weeks of siege, was delighted to see the Latins abandoning the field, apparently to fight a Damascene incursion near the Sea of Galilee. In that same year, though, as we have seen, Bohemond had attempted to capture Haifa and then Acre, but was thwarted by Raymond himself, who then put Acre to siege a second time. The determined citizens of the port again refused to surrender, and this time the Italians – the Genoese and the Pisans – were defeated by a large Fatimid armada, allowing the city to be supplied by sea. After two consecutive months of siege, Raymond gave up again after his scouts in the southern frontier warned about Al-Afdal's approach in Sinai, not too long before the Crusaders of 1101 arrived in Lebanon.

    Now, reinforced by thousands of enthusiastic warriors of the faith, the Toulousain Duke decided that the hour of doom had come for Acre at last. For the third time in the fateful year of 1101, then, the city was besieged. The Prince of Jerusalem himself led the siege operations with his Provençal retinue, joined by the Burgundians of Count-Palatine Stephen of Ivrea, and by the Franconian company of Constable Conrad – whose animosity towards Duke Welf of Bavaria made them part ways after the battle of Gaza.

    The capture of the city was an imperative, and, with the much-needed reinforcements from Europe, Raymond decided to not waste any time or resources. Just like the first Crusaders had done in Jerusalem, now they immediately constructed siege towers and employed a battering ram mainly as a diversion, while a division of sappers worked day and night to demolish the city’s walls. Even with these careful plans, and after the breaching of the walls resulted in a bloody engagement in the streets, it took almost a whole month for the Fatimid Governor, cowered in the fortified citadel with his bodyguard, to surrender. He was then allowed to sail away to Egypt, abandoning the treasure he had hoarded in the fort to the despised and rapacious Christians.

    Raymond was confirmed by Archbishop Adhemar as the lord of Acre, and he enffeofed it to his vassal, Peter [Pèire] of Foix.

    *****​

    Tyre, some kilometers north of Acre, was a very wealthy metropolis, with several shipyards and a prosperous industry of glass and dye, including the worldly-famous purple tint that since Antiquity was worn by the Roman aristocrats. The city had a substantial Jewish community, and they, still lamenting the fate of their brothers and sisters in Jerusalem, were staunchly opposed to the mere idea of a Crusader rule, and their youth picked arms to defend it against the Latins side by side with the Muslims and the Christian inhabitants, who preferred the Fatimid suzerainty.

    The city was blockaded for weeks by a combined Venetian and Pisan fleet, while the walls were besieged by a mixed Bavarian and Swabian force led by the Duke Welf I of Bavaria, and the Aquitanians and the Italo-Normans of Duke William IX and Count Bohemond. After almost a month of siege, the Christians breached a wall with catapults and made short work of the Fatimid garrison. This time, the Jews were mostly spared, but forced to pay a heavy tribute to satisfy the greed of the conquerors. Many of the Tyrian Jews, nonetheless, migrated to Egypt or Africa after the end of the Fatimid rule in the city.

    Considering that both Duke Welf and Duke William IX favored Bohemond over Raymond due to his charisma and valor, they supported his claim towards Tyre when he petitioned to the Archbishop Adhemar to be granted it as a fief. Despite Duke Raymond’s protests, the high-priest of Jerusalem, impressed by Bohemond’s exploits, ultimately anointed the Norman prince as the lord of that ancient Phoenician metropolis. Jaffa and Ramla were then enffeofed by Bohemond to a kinsman, one William [Williame] of Melfi, and then Bohemond came to reside himself in Tyre.

    The victory on Acre and Tyre, coupled with the humiliation of the Fatimids both on land and on sea, seriously impacted in the morale of each of these Levantine city-states.

    *****​

    In March 1102, Duke Raymond and his German and Burgundian allies marched against the stronghold in eastern Lebanon that the Arabs called Qala'at al-Shaqif [m. Beaufort], upon a cliff outlooking the Litani River. By then, the Levantine coast from Darum to Tyre was more or less secure into Crusader hands – a development that could very well ensure the preservation of the whole realm of Jerusalem – as was the upper Jordan valley (north of the Sea of Galilee), and thus the Latins believed it was time to expand and consolidate their holdings, which meant also securing the outlying fortifications in the frontier regions of Palestine, bordering Lebanon, Syria and Arabia.

    Qala'at al-Shaqif – initially called by the Franks “Belfort” because of its beautiful grape orchards and olive gardens, and later as “Nautcastèl” due to its height –, among these frontier outposts, was a priority. It was the personal property of an Arab-Syrian aristocrat, who, ever since the defeat of the Turks by the Fatimids, had sworn allegiance to the Shiite Caliph, but, after Al-Afdal’s defeat in Rafah, approached Duqaq of Damascus to be his protector.

    The stronghold, situated atop a steep cliff, was encircled by the numerous Latin host, but, after repelling two attempts of direct offensive (in March and in April 1102), remained untouched for the remainder of the year, while its besiegers awaited for its inhabitants to starve. Duqaq’s Damascene forces were committed to a war in Ar-Raqqah in support of his ally, the Abbasid Caliph, against the Turkish warlords of Mardin and Diyarbakr, allies of his enemy (and brother) Radwan of Aleppo. Only in August 1102, did a relief expedition led by Duqaq himself arrived, and Raymond retreated some miles to the east to give battle to the Turks in a more favorable ground in the Litani valley itself. The Turks, tired by an arduous trek across the Syrian desert, gave a poor display, but nonetheless Duke Raymond was forced to abandon the siege altogether due to his lack of resources, and returned to Jerusalem after concluding a truce.

    This was to be the very last military operation of the Crusade of 1101. By then, many of the pilgrims had returned to Europe, and now, with the kingdom stabilized, even Raymond’s allies decided they must return home, while Duke William IX of Aquitaine remained, as did many of the Lombards, who then either joined Bohemond’s party or that of Duke Raymond, as well as Duke Welf of Bavaria, for very different reasons. The Aquitainian magnate had expressed his intent to return to Europe, but, for now, would remain sometime longer in the Levant, as he sought to hoard treasures and extravagances in Syria to bring back to his marbled palace in Poitiers, as well as “inspiration” to write his famous songs.

    On the other hand, Duke Welf apparently had, in one of his stays in Jerusalem, an epiphany in which he witnessed Jesus Christ’s imminent Second Coming, and desired to die in the Orient. Religious revelations notwithstanding, there might be a more mundane reason for his stay: after his unsuccessful rebellion against [Holy Roman] Emperor Henry IV in the side of Rudolf of Swabia, his duchy of Bavaria had been confiscated; after the end of the civil war, Welf obtained a pardon after humiliating himself, and at least ensuring succession for his son, Welf II, but nevertheless he became a persona non grata of sorts in the imperial court, and now desired to redeem his reputation and standing by fighting against the "infidels".


    _________________________________

    Notes and comments: So, this is the final chapter of the "Act II", focused on the Crusade of 1101. The next chapters will focus on the dynastic struggles of Syria, namely between Radwan of Aleppo and his brother Duqaq of Damascus, and how their power struggles will affect and be affected by the Crusaders. These will be the first significant divergences of the TL, so, the lead-up will be interesting.

    You may ask if many of the Crusaders of 1101 will remain in the East. They will not, in fact, as a whole, but there will nevertheless remain a substantial European presence in the employ of the magnates, notably Bohemond (with his newfound Lombard allegiances), and this enlarged presence will be fundamental for this first period of Crusader expansion.

    The name "Nautcastèl" is supposed to literally mean "High-Castle" (I took it from Catalan, actually, as I could not find indication on how would be the proper writing for it in Occitan), and it is but a tiny bit of divergence to demonstrate how the Occitan (mainly Toulousain, but also Provençal) presence will become increasingly dominant in Christian Asia, much like OTL's Jerusalem was mostly dominated by French aristocrats. This is not supposed to mean that French presence will be less significant, it is only supposed to reflect some divergent trends.
     
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