The Great Sieges of History

by William Robson

Baldwin, prince of Edessa, had sent some magnificent presents to Godfrey, the two Roberts, the count de Vermandois, and the counts of Blois and Chartres; he had distributed sums of money to the whole army; but in bestowing his largesses, he had purposely left out Bohemond and his soldiers. This was quite enough to create a division. Whilst the Christian army was loud in the praises of the liberality of Baldwin, the prince of Tarentum and his warriors breathed nothing but complaints and murmurs.

At the same time, a richly ornamented tent, which an Armenian prince destined for Godfrey, and which, falling into the hands of Pancratius, was sent to Bohemond, became a fresh subject of trouble and discord. Godfrey haughtily claimed the present which had been intended for him; Bohemond refused to give it up. Both parties proceeded to abuse and threats; they were eager to have recourse to arms, and Christian blood was about to flow in a contemptible quarrel. But at length the prince of Tarentum, abandoned by the greater part of the army and conquered by the prayers of his friends, surrendered the tent to his rival, consoling his vexation with the hope that the chance of war would soon bestow upon him a much richer booty.

Whilst these quarrels occupied the Christian army, the inhabitants of Antioch received reinforcements and prepared for a fresh resistance. When they had obtained all they stood in need of, they broke the truce and recommenced the war with all the advantages a foolishly-granted peace had given them.

Antioch, after a seven months’ siege, would have escaped the hands of the Christians, if cunning, policy, and ambition had not done more for their cause than patience and valour had been able to do. Bohemond, whom the hopes of bettering his fortunes had drawn into the crusade, was always on the watch to realize his projects. The success of Baldwin had roused his jealousy, and pursued him even in his sleep. He ventured to cast his eyes upon Antioch, and was sufficiently favoured by circumstances to find a man who had it in his power to place that city in his hands. This man, who was named Phirous, was the son of an Armenian, a maker of cuirasses. Of a restless, uneasy character, he was constantly in hopes of changing his condition. He had abjured the Christian religion in a spirit of inconstancy and with the expectation of advancing his fortune. He was endowed with wonderful coolness, with unconquerable audacity, and was always ready to do that for money which could scarcely be expected from the most ardent fanaticism. To satisfy his ambition and avarice, nothing appeared unjust or impossible. Being active, cunning, and insinuating, he had obtained the confidence of Accien, who admitted him to his counsels. The prince of Antioch had confided the command of three of his principal towers to him. He at first defended them with zeal, but without any advantage to his fortune: he grew weary of a sterile fidelity as soon as he was brought to think that treachery might be more profitable to him.

In the intervals between the battles he had had frequent opportunities of seeing the prince of Tarentum. These two men divined each other’s character at first sight, and were not long in coming to an understanding. Phirous complained of the outrages he had received from the Mussulmans; he lamented having abandoned the religion of Christ, and wept over the persecutions the Christians of Antioch endured. There required no more than this to make such a man as the prince of Tarentum acquainted with the secret thoughts of the renegade. He commended his remorse, approved of his sentiments, and made him most magnificent promises. Then Phirous opened his heart to him. They swore a mutual and inviolable attachment, and promised to keep up an active correspondence. They afterwards saw each other several times, but always with the greatest secrecy. At every interview, Bohemond told Phirous that the fate of the Crusaders was in his hands, and that it only remained with himself to obtain an immense recompense from them. On his side, Phirous protested that he had a great desire to serve the Crusaders, whom he looked upon as his brothers; and to assure the prince of Tarentum of his fidelity, or to excuse his treachery, he said that Christ had appeared to him and advised him to give Antioch up to the Christians. Bohemond had no need of a similar protestation. He had no trouble in believing what he wished for with so much ardour; and when he had agreed with Phirous upon the means by which the projects they had a long time meditated should be executed, he called an assembly of the principal leaders of the Christian army. He dwelt with great warmth upon the evils which to that period had desolated the Crusaders, and the yet greater evils with which they were still threatened. He added that a powerful army was advancing to the succour of Antioch; that they could not retreat without shame and danger; and that there was no safety for the Christians but in the conquest of the city. The place, it was true, was defended by inexpugnable ramparts; but they must be aware that all victories are not gained by arms or in the field of battle; that those which were obtained by address were neither the least important nor the least glorious. They who could not be conquered might be seduced, and enemies might be overcome by an adroit and generous enterprise. Among the inhabitants of Antioch, widely differing in morals and religion, opposite in interests, there must be some to be found who would be accessible to baits of gold or to brilliant promises. It concerned a service of such importance to the Christian army, that all sorts of attempts were justifiable. The possession even of Antioch itself did not appear to him to be too much to hold out as a reward to him who should be skilful or fortunate enough to throw open the gates to the Crusaders.

Bohemond did not explain himself more clearly, but several of the leaders, who, perhaps, entertained the same views, easily fathomed his meaning. Raymond, in particular, spoke strongly against the artful insinuations of the prince of Tarentum. “We are all,” said he, “brothers and companions in arms, and it would be unjust, that after having all run the same risk, one alone should gather the fruit of our labours. As for myself,” added he, casting a look of anger and contempt at Bohemond, “I have not traversed so many countries, and braved so many perils; I have not been prodigal of my blood, my soldiers, and my treasures, to pay with the price of our conquests some gross artifice, some disgraceful stratagem, the invention of which should be left to women.” As none of the Crusaders were actuated by a more palpable ambition, or by meaner or more sordid views than Bohemond of Tarentum and Raymond of Toulouse, they were upon all occasions at variance, and by their wrangling laid their characters open to the whole army. Raymond’s vehement words produced all the effect that might be expected among warriors accustomed to conquer by arms, and who valued no advantage that was not purchased by bravery. Most of the leaders rejected Bohemond’s proposals, and joined their railleries to those of Raymond. Bohemond, with his Ulyssian tact, did his best to conceal his vexation and malice. He left the council with a smile on his lip, perfectly satisfied that necessity would soon bring the Crusaders to his opinion.

He made it his first business to spread, by means of emissaries, the most alarming reports throughout the camp. Some of the leaders went out to reconnoitre, and to learn if there were any foundation for these rumours. They speedily returned, announcing the approach of Kerbogha, sultan of Mossoul, with an army of two hundred thousand men. This army, which had threatened Edessa and ravaged Mesopotamia, was within seven days’ march of Antioch. At this account the fears of the Crusaders were redoubled. Bohemond went among the ranks, exaggerating the peril; he affected more distress and terror than the rest, but in his heart he rejoiced at the idea of soon seeing his hopes accomplished. The leaders again assembled to deliberate upon the measures that ought to be taken under such perilous circumstances. Two opinions divided the council. Some proposed that they should raise the siege, and go and meet the Saracens; others, that the army should be divided into two bodies, one of which should march against Kerbogha, and the other remain in charge of the camp. This last advice was about to prevail, when Bohemond demanded permission to speak. He had not much difficulty in demonstrating the difficulties of both plans. If they raised the siege, they would be placed between the garrison of Antioch and a formidable army. If they continued the blockade, and half the army only went to meet Kerbogha, they would certainly risk a double defeat. “The greatest perils,” added the prince of Tarentum, “surround us. Time presses; to-morrow, perhaps, it will be too late to act; to-morrow we shall have lost the fruit of all our labours and all our victories. But no, I cannot think so; God, who has conducted us hither, will not permit that we should have fought in his cause in vain. He will save the Christian army, he will lead us to the tomb of His Son. If you will listen to the proposal I am about to make to you, to-morrow the standard of the cross shall float over the walls of Antioch, and we shall march in triumph to Jerusalem.”

On finishing these words, Bohemond exhibited the letters of Phirous, in which he promised to surrender the three towers he commanded. Phirous declared that he was ready to fulfil his promises, but that he would have nothing to do with any one but the prince of Tarentum. He required, as the price of his services, that Bohemond should remain master of Antioch. The Italian prince affirmed that he had already given considerable sums to Phirous; that he alone had obtained his confidence, and that a reciprocal confidence was the surest guarantee of success in so difficult an enterprise. “As to the rest,” added he, “if a better means of saving the army can be found, I am ready to approve of it, and will willingly renounce my share of a conquest upon which the safety of all the Crusaders depends.”

The peril daily became greater; it was disgraceful to fly, imprudent to fight, and dangerous to temporize. Fear put all the interests of rivalry to silence. The greater the opposition the leaders had at first shown to the proposals of Bohemond, the more abundant did they now find the reasons for adopting them. A divided conquest was no conquest; besides, a partition of Antioch might give birth to a thousand differences in the army, and lead to its ruin. They only gave away that which they did not possess, and they gave it to secure the lives of the Christians. Better one should profit by the labours of all, than that all should perish out of opposition to the good fortune of one. Besides, the taking of Antioch was not the great object of the Crusade; they had taken arms to deliver Jerusalem. Every delay was contrary to what religion hoped for from its soldiers, and to what the West expected from its bravest knights. All the leaders, except the inflexible Raymond, united in granting the principality of Antioch to Bohemond, and conjured him to press the execution of his project.

The moment he left the council, Bohemond informed Phirous of what had taken place, and the latter sent him his son as a hostage. The execution of the plan was fixed for the next day. To leave the garrison of Antioch in the greater security, the Christians were to quit their camp and direct their march towards the route by which Kerbogha’s army was expected, and were to return to the walls of Antioch during the night. The next day, at dawn, the troops received orders to prepare for their departure; they left the camp a few hours before nightfall, with trumpets sounding and ensigns flying, and after a short march retraced their steps, and came in silence towards Antioch. At a signal given by the prince of Tarentum, they halted in a valley west of the city, near the tower of the Three Sisters, commanded by Phirous. It was there that the secret of the great enterprise which was to open the gates to them was revealed to the Christian army.