Having now somewhat cleared the ground, it is possible to set forth the probable course of events at Laodicea on the basis of the more reliable sources.

There can be little doubt that Laodicea had already been taken from the Turks when the crusaders arrived at Antioch, 21 October 1097;[34] and we may accept without question the statement of Raymond of Aguilers—which Riant and Chalandon appear to ignore without reason—that it was taken by the English, who had come by sea, and who held it during the siege of Antioch and assisted the land forces by protecting commerce and keeping communications open with Cyprus and the other islands. These English mariners were unquestionably acting in coöperation with the Emperor,[35] who at this time, as Chalandon has shown, was supporting the crusaders in accordance with his treaty obligations.[36]

At some time during the siege of Antioch by the Christians Robert Curthose was called to Laodicea by the English—probably because of dangers on the landward side which made their situation there precarious—and he remained there for a time, in the enjoyment of ease and plenty, until he was obliged by repeated summonses and by a threat of ecclesiastical censure to return to Antioch.[37] The date of Robert’s sojourn at Laodicea cannot be determined with certainty, but it may probably be assigned to December-January 1097-98,[38] 8 February being the extreme limit for his return to the siege.[39] Yet there is no record of his presence at Antioch between 9 February and the beginning of June, or between the end of June and 11 September; and the possibility of his having paid more than one visit to Laodicea must be recognized. The accounts of Ralph of Caen and of Ordericus Vitalis, interpreted strictly, point to sojourns in the spring and in the summer of 1098; but the chronology of these authors is not trustworthy, and it is not unlikely that they have fallen into inaccuracies here, and that they really refer to Robert’s earlier sojourn at Laodicea, for which we have the indirect but more reliable evidence of Raymond of Aguilers.

The arrangements which were made at Laodicea upon Robert’s final departure before his advance to Jerusalem must remain a matter of doubt. According to Ordericus Vitalis and Guibert of Nogent he left a garrison, which was later driven out by the citizens. Guibert is curiously circumstantial. He says that the citizens, unable to bear the duke’s excessive exactions, drove his men from the citadel, threw off his domination, and abjured the use of the money of Rouen. But this incident is confirmed by none of the early writers who were in the East; and in the absence of any other evidence of Robert’s having attempted to secure for himself a private possession in Syria, we may well wonder whether Guibert and Ordericus have not blundered through a misunderstanding of the actual situation in the East and of the spirit in which Robert undertook the Crusade.

Finally, what is to be said of the statement of Cafaro of Genoa that, at the time of the capture of Antioch by the crusaders, Laodicea was under the rule of Eumathios Philocales, duke of Cyprus? It would not be surprising if Cafaro, writing long after the event, should be mistaken on a point of this kind; yet he is by no means to be ignored, and on the whole his account does not seem inconsistent with established facts. The sojourn of Robert Curthose at Laodicea was apparently a passing episode rather than a lasting occupation. But throughout the period under consideration the Syrian port was clearly in the hands of crusaders, mainly English mariners, who were acting in coöperation with the Greeks. Under existing treaty obligations the place might fairly be regarded as a Greek possession from the moment the Turks were expelled[40]—unless there were a Bohemond or some other like-minded chief to seize and hold it in defiance of imperial rights. And the Emperor would most naturally delegate authority over Laodicea to the head of his administration in Cyprus. From the Greek standpoint, therefore, it might well be regarded as subject to Eumathios Philocales, though actually held by the Emperor’s allies, the crusaders.

Between the departure of the crusaders from northern Syria early in 1099 and their return in September after the capture of Jerusalem, Laodicea seems to have become definitely a Greek possession; but whether there was any violent expulsion of the garrison of a crusading chief, as Ordericus and Guibert suppose, or any formal transfer,[41] must remain uncertain. When the crusaders moved southward from northern Syria to Jerusalem, their influence at Laodicea must, it seems, inevitably have declined, while that of the Greeks increased; and without any formal transfer it is conceivable that the place might gradually and almost imperceptibly have passed under full Greek control.

But for this later period there are some further scattered notices in the chronicles of Albert of Aix and of Raymond of Aguilers and in the anonymous Gesta Francorum, which must now be considered, and which make it clear that at this time Laodicea was still in Christian hands and served as a most important base for the further prosecution of the Crusade.

Albert of Aix, who is the fullest and most specific, explains that the crusaders still remaining in Syria gathered in council at Antioch on 2 February 1099, and, determining upon an advance to Jerusalem, fixed 1 March as the date for a general rendezvous of all the forces at Laodicea, a city which was then under Christian dominion.[42] Pursuant to this decision, Godfrey, Robert of Flanders, and Bohemond assembled their forces at Laodicea on the appointed day. And from Laodicea Godfrey and Robert moved on southward to the siege of Jebeleh; but Bohemond, ever suspicious and anxious lest through some fraud he should lose a city which was ‘impregnable by human strength,’ returned to Antioch.[43] This very specific account of Albert of Aix is confirmed by the much briefer statements of the Gesta Francorum, which record the meeting of the leaders at Laodicea, the advance of Godfrey and the count of Flanders to the siege of Jebeleh, and the return of Bohemond to Antioch.[44] It is also clear from Raymond of Aguilers that in the spring and summer of 1099—at least until June—the port of Laodicea was open to the ships of the Greeks, Venetians, and Genoese who were engaged in provisioning the crusaders at Arka and at Jerusalem.[45]

There can be little doubt, therefore, that until June 1099, Laodicea was held in the interest of the crusaders, and that its harbor was open to the ships of Greeks and Italians without distinction. Albert of Aix nowhere explains what he means when he says that Laodicea was “under Christian dominion”; but, in the absence of valid evidence of its retention by any of the crusading chiefs, or by the fleet of any Italian city, the most reasonable hypothesis appears to be that it was held by the Greeks in the interest of the common enterprise.

We get our next information concerning Laodicea when, in September 1099, Robert Curthose, Robert of Flanders, and Raymond of Toulouse, upon their return from Jerusalem, found the place undergoing a prolonged siege at the hands of Bohemond, who was assisted in his nefarious enterprise by a fleet of Pisans and Genoese.[46] Since the early summer, when ships of Genoese, Venetians, and Greeks had all enjoyed free entry to the port, a complete change had come over the situation at Laodicea.[47] What had happened to produce this? As is well known, it was the fixed policy of the Emperor to turn the Crusade to his own advantage, and to utilize the efforts of the Franks for the recovery of the lost provinces which had formerly belonged to the Greek Empire in Asia. To this end, he had been on the whole successful in coöperating with the crusaders. But in Bohemond of Taranto he had encountered opposition from the beginning; and, since the capture of Antioch by the crusaders, it had been the little disguised policy of this crafty and ambitious leader to hold it for himself, and to make it the capital and centre around which he hoped to build up a Norman state in Syria. It was, of course, inevitable that the Emperor should set himself to thwart such plans by every means at his disposal; and when the departure of the main body of the crusaders for Jerusalem left Bohemond with a free hand in the north, open hostilities became imminent. Undoubtedly foreseeing what was to come, Bohemond had separated from Godfrey and Robert of Flanders at Laodicea in March, and had returned to Antioch to mature his plans.[48] A few weeks later, ambassadors from the Emperor arrived in the crusaders’ camp at Arka and lodged a complaint against Bohemond.[49] But the Emperor was in no position to take vigorous measures at that time. Such a course might even have endangered his friendly relations with the other leaders. But neither was Bohemond in a position to resort to an overt act against Laodicea so long as he was powerless to meet the imperial fleet at sea. In the late summer of 1099, however, all this was changed by the arrival of a Pisan fleet under the command of Dagobert, archbishop of Pisa; for Bohemond, with true Norman adaptability and shrewdness, came to an understanding with the Pisans and secured their aid for an attack upon Laodicea.[50] And with this, the slight naval supremacy which the Greek Emperor had been vainly striving to maintain in the eastern Mediterranean came to an end.[51]