Deus Lo Volt! Read online

  Yet according to the monk Albert, three Syrians traveling through the mountains recognized Yaghi Siyan a long way off. Behold! said they. Is Antioch captured? Our lord and governor looks intent on flight. Considering how we have sustained tyranny and sharp practices he will not escape our hands. So these travelers approached thick with deceit, showing false reverence. And coming near they snatched Yaghi Siyan’s sword out of the sheath, flung him down from his mule and sliced off his head, which they put in their bag. They took his head to Antioch for Christians to see. Yaghi Siyan’s head was enormous, ears broad and hairy, while from his chin a white beard flowed down as far as his navel.

  The second day after Antioch was subjugated, while Christ’s army searched for provisions and labored at strengthening the walls, being much afraid of Kerbogha, several Turkish knights appeared on the plain. They came near the city, riding splendid chargers. They trotted insolently to and fro, which angered the Christians. And since it would be disgraceful not to refute this challenge Roger de Barneville rode fiercely out the gate accompanied by fifteen knights. And the Saracens, pretending fright, whirled and galloped off with Christians at their heels. Then unexpectedly three hundred more Saracens rose up. Roger fell with an arrow through his heart. He was a most valiant knight from the retinue of Count Robert the Norman and faithfully had carried out the aims of pilgrimage. The Turks made off with his head. As soon as they were out of sight Roger’s comrades brought back his corpse, which they entombed in the basilica of Saint Peter, a holy place containing the chair once occupied by the Prince of Apostles.

  Next day at sunrise here came the black banners of Kerbogha. His multitude of cavalry in white robes astonished all. The wide plain scarcely was large enough to accommodate his army. When they encamped their tents reached up toward the hills. Some few separated themselves and rode close to Antioch where they dismounted as though in contempt before launching arrows. Tancred charged from the east gate and killed six. Because Roger de Barneville ascended to glory near this place Tancred cut off the heads of these six and bore them into the city for consolation.

  Now as it suited him, Kerbogha advanced. Presently those who had besieged Antioch and took it through force of arms were themselves encircled and menaced. Nor had they food enough. Before long a single egg cost two sous. Intestine of a goat, five sous. One denier for a nut. Rotting carcasses of dogs fetched huge prices. Head of a horse without the tongue, three silver deniers. Fig leaf, thistle, vine, camel hide, all were boiled and eaten. Low people as well as knights who had once been rich could be seen hobbling about, leaning on sticks. Some asked feebly for bread. Others withdrew from sight, starving in private rooms to hide their shame. Next to arrive was that brother of famine, plague. Out of three hundred thousand Franks who undertook this pilgrimage, no more than sixty thousand could be counted.

  What of Stephen, Comte de Blois? While the battle raged at Dorylaeum he could not be found. Here, one day before Lord Bohemond scaled the wall, Stephen pretended to be sick and retreated to the fortified town of Alexandretta, taking with him four thousand soldiers. There he meant to await the outcome. Should the army of God triumph, he would return to Antioch claiming his health had much improved. Or if heathen force prevailed, then would he quickly embark to France. But as he waited with folded arms beside the port he learned of Kerbogha. They say he climbed a mountain to observe the enemy camp and seeing the number of tents thought it best to retreat toward Constantinople. Why he did so has been much discussed. According to Fulcher de Chartres, all in the pilgrim army felt aggrieved because Stephen was a man of eminent virtue. Nor could he afterward explain to his wife Adela why he avoided the battle of Antioch. She is said to have berated him without mercy as they lay on the conjugal bed. Fulcher, making note, chose to call Stephen sagacious and high born, yet declined to call him brave.

  This defection gnawed at the vitals of those he left behind. They asked one another why they should be trapped like vermin inside Antioch while Stephen de Blois brushed his hair beside the sea. They contemplated their misery and wondered what to do. They saw themselves languishing from plague and hunger, encircled by Turks. Outside the wall, a sword. Desolation within. Lord Bohemond attempted to revive their spirit, but losing patience set fire to a district where many were billeted, burning hundreds to death while their comrades watched indifferently. Some thought to escape over the walls at night, lowering themselves on ropes, for which they were villified as rope-dancers. Most plopped into the arms of Turks who welcomed them to slavery. Not all who plotted to escape were low born. William de Grandmesnil, a noble married to Bohemond’s sister, wished to save himself. But while preparing to descend the rope he saw the face of his brother Albericus, recently dead, who asked where he would go. Stay, Albericus reproved him. Stay and fear not. God will be with you. And your companions who preceded you in death will fight with you against the Turk. William felt amazed at these words from one already departed. He let go of the rope and told what he had heard.

  And the Lord, not unmindful, spoke to a cleric who was greatly terrified, Stephan Valanti. Where goest thou? inquired the Lord. I would flee, the cleric answered, lest unluckily I perish. Return, said the Lord. I will be merciful to the Franks in battle. They suffer because they have neglected my precepts. Let them repent their sins and they shall have victory. Let their trust in me endure. For I am the Lord.

  Stephan Valanti returned full of shame and spoke to others.

  Lambert le Pauvre and Guy de Troussel, illustrious men of rank, slipped down ropes, burning flesh from their hands. Also, William Carpenter, viscount of Melun, fled in disgrace. He was called the Carpenter because in battle he chopped down men like trees. Yet his reputation stood on boasting, he excelled more at words than deeds. Once before he took flight but Tancred pursued him and brought him back. All night he waited outside the court of Bohemond and next day faced the prince.

  What sort of Carpenter have we? Bohemond asked. Has he worn out a thousand swords by the strength of his arm? In this fashion did Prince Bohemond mock the timorous viscount.

  Altogether how many fled is not known. Some got to the seacoast where they clambered aboard vessels and slashed the anchor ropes, demanding that the crew hoist sail at once. Kerbogha, said they in fright. Kerbogha has come out from Mosul like the wind. Antioch has fallen, our barons murdered. By the help of Almighty God we escaped. Now while there is yet time let us quit this accursed place.

  Others without pride sought to join the heathen, beseeching mercy, denying our gracious Lord and Savior, which is abomination.

  What of Hugh, Comte de Vermandois? Some allege that he, like Stephen, fled before the battle opened. Others argue that he went to reproach Emperor Alexius at Constantinople and charge him with neglect, with failure to send help. It is known that Hugh loitered at the Byzantine capital showing little concern for the Holy City until he embarked to France, albeit he once declared he would not come home with breath in his body. Some say this great lord, goaded by the contempt of lesser men, retraced his steps toward Jerusalem. Perhaps. I neither deny nor avouch the truth of it.

  Saracen chronicles relate how Kerbogha made sport of the Franks when he was shown an ancient sword flaked with rust, a wretched bow, a darkened lance taken from poor pilgrims. Kerbogha began to laugh. Would Christians armed with such shining instruments drive me past the boundaries of Chorosan? he asked. Such weapons could not strike a sparrow to the earth. And when he finished laughing he ordered a scribe to address the caliph.

  To the Caliph, our Pope, our King, Lord Sultan, most valiant knight, greeting and honor immeasurable! Behold these arms we took from a squad of Franks. See how perfect they are. How fine. With such weaponry will the Orient be scourged?

  In this wise did Kerbogha continue, asserting that he had shut up the Franks in Antioch like a bird caught in his hand, boasting he would lead them to harsh captivity or sentence them to death because they had threatened to expel him and cast him beyond upper India. By Mahomet, he swore, by the g
ods of every name, he would not return until he acquired the regal city of Antioch and all of Syria and Romania and Bulgaria even to Apulia. Yet these proud words by which he thought to earn praise would augment his disgrace. For as he soon would take wing from those he despised, to that extent was the humiliation greater. Who does not find ignominy easier to bear if defeated by a noble adversary? Just so, when the ignoble triumph, is not discredit doubled?

  Anon here came Kerbogha’s mother who lived in the city of Aleppo, hurrying to ask, weeping, if what she heard was true. He answered that she knew the truth. Then she pleaded with him not to engage the Franks. In the book of Islam and in the book of the Gentiles, said she, it is found that a Christian host will come against us and conquer us and everywhere make our people subject. Miserable woman that I am, I have followed you from Aleppo where, gazing and contriving rhymes, I scrutinized the planets and stars and the twelve signs. In all I have seen the Christian host victorious, so I fear greatly that you will be taken from me.

  Ah! said Kerbogha. Is not Bohemond mortal? Is not Tancred mortal? Do not these with their host of Franks at one meal eat two thousand heifers and four thousand pigs?

  Bohemond and Tancred are mortal, she answered. But their God loves them and gives them valor. He has made heaven and earth and established the sea and prepared a dwelling throughout eternity. His might is to be feared.

  Nevertheless I will fight them, Kerbogha said.

  When his mother heard this she returned sadly to Aleppo with as many gifts as she could carry.

  Three days afterward Kerbogha rode toward Antioch, his Turks shouting blasphemy, hooting, whistling. A Christian knight whose name has been forgotten shook his lance and cried aloud.

  Whoever would sup in Paradise, let him eat with me!

  And spurring toward the enemy he overturned and killed the first Turk he met. Of an instant he himself was slain. Yet he died rejoicing, emboldened, strengthened by his love of Jesus, finding glory in Heaven while he lay bleeding on earth. So others rode out to give battle but could not overwhelm these Turks and were forced backward through the narrow gate. More than one hundred suffocated. As noble Boethius has written, at the price of glorious death shall men earn fame that future generations venerate.

  Now occurred a miracle. A servant from Provence, by name Bartholomew, lay alone in his tent when the earth began to shake, whereupon he cried out to God. Then he beheld Saint Andrew, who said he should go to the church of Saint Peter where he would be shown the lance that pierced the side of our Lord as He hung upon the cross. And suddenly, as if they had flown hand in hand, they entered the north door of the church. Saint Andrew vanished. Presently he came back with the lance that opened the side of our Lord, whence flowed the salvation of the world. This inestimable relic he offered to the servant who wept for joy.

  When the horror of battle threatens, Saint Andrew said, this shalt thou turn against the enemy. And he took back the lance.

  At that moment Bartholomew awoke in his tent, hearing the cock twice acclaim morning.

  Bartholomew sought and obtained audience with Count Raymond and Bishop Adhémar to recount the vision. He said he had been told by Saint Andrew to search the floor of the church in the company of twelve pious men. By every account Bishop Adhémar was unimpressed, knowing Bartholomew as one who frequented taverns. Count Raymond, being cut from different cloth, resolved to explore the dream. Five days later they proceeded to the church at sunrise, twelve pious men, Bishop Adhémar, Count Raymond, and such lords as Pontius of Balazun and Faraldus of Thuart. When they asked Bartholomew where to dig, he hesitated. Then adopting a look of authority he pointed. So they commenced, broke through the floor and dug until the hour of vespers to no avail, as though the earth could not yield what it never received. Bartholomew disrobed, excepting his shirt, and leapt into the pit with a spade.

  Here is the place, said he, leaning toward a corner. Here lies hidden what we seek.

  Then they heard the clash of metal against metal and Bartholomew cried out, for the point of the lance was seen, leaf-shaped hammered iron. Raymond d’Agiles, chaplain to the count of Toulouse, declares in his chronicle that he himself kissed the point where it stood half revealed, the point that Longius thrust into the side of our Lord.

  Some would not believe. Arnulf Malecorne, chaplain to the duke of Normandy, thought it the rusty point of a Muslim spear. Mockingly he inquired when Pontius Pilate or the centurions visited Antioch. Bishop Adhémar also withheld approval. Lord Bohemond detected a trick, wondering aloud at suspicious things, by shrewd conjecture throwing doubt, casting shadows. By what vagaries of thought are we molded? Bohemond asked. How is it that Saint Andrew would visit a man who, so I hear, prowls the streets and devotes himself to public houses? Why has the apostle disclosed to such a man the secret of heaven? How came the lance to this church? If some Christian hid it, why not at the nearest altar? Or if some Jew or Gentile concealed the lance, why bury it within a church? Does not darkness abet deceit? For at the moment of cozenage this Provençal sprang into the hole, turned his back and found what others vainly sought. Why should any man be vouchsafed in darkness what was denied to others in the light? Thus did Lord Bohemond belittle the relic. Just so did Arnulf Malecorne, the counts of Normandy and Flanders, Tancred, and more who peeked beneath the shell. Here began that sullen dispute between Provençals and Normans. Those quick to believe, those who doubted. It is said that Count Raymond felt bitterly aggrieved and considered vengeance, digesting a thousand plots in the sanguine depth of his heart. With what ambiguous success does fate unfold the course of affairs.

  Now the lance swaddled in gold cloth was borne triumphantly through the streets of Antioch while ecstatic pilgrims followed, chanting, singing, paying homage. According to some, the Holy Shroud lay in this self-same trench and was secured by Adhémar, that it rests enshrined at the abbey of Cadouin.

  How often may God’s favor be revealed? Saint Andrew reappeared to Bartholomew on the second night after the lance was found, accompanied by a radiant companion, radiant beyond the children of men.

  Draw near that you may kiss His foot, Saint Andrew commanded.

  And Bartholomew perceived that the foot was freshly wounded, bloody.

  Behold our Lord, Saint Andrew said. Behold our Lord who suffered on the Cross, whence this wound. The day you were given the lance, that day would He have you celebrate. And since it was given you at vespers, and that day cannot be celebrated, therefore will you celebrate on the eighth day in the following week, and each year on the day of discovery. Let clerics sing before the lance. Let them conclude the hymn on bended knees. Let all deport themselves as is taught in the epistle. Humble yourselves beneath the mighty hand of God.

  Moreover, the Lord appeared to a priest while he knelt in the church of Our Lady grieving at the expected death of himself and his brothers. He had put on the garb of confession, obtained absolution, and was reciting psalms when he observed a light greater than the sun and a visitor of indescribable beauty. It seemed to the priest that he was asked who now occupied Antioch. Christians, he replied. Those who believe Jesus Christ was born of a Virgin, suffered and died on the Cross and was buried, but arose on the third day.

  Knowest thou me? the splendid visitor asked.

  I do not, the priest replied. But at his words a cross shone on the face of the visitor.

  Knowest thou me? the visitor asked again.

  I do not, said the priest. Except I see on thy head a cross like that of our Savior.

  I am He, said the Lord.

  Then the priest dropped humbly at His feet, beseeching help for the oppression upon them.

  I have given you the city of Nicaea. So far have I attended you, said the Lord. I deplore your adversity and have brought you into the city of Antioch. Yet you take evil pleasure with corrupted women, whereof arises a stench unto heaven. Now go and tell the people. Return to me and I will return to them. Let them chant the response to Congregati sunt, including the verse, each day
.

  Men wept for joy throughout the ranks when they heard of our Lord’s intervention. Now overhead blazed a star, dividing into three parts that fell on the Turkish camp. Thus encouraged and reassured, the pilgrims consulted. They resolved to send Kerbogha a message demanding to know why he encamped haughtily before Antioch, why he assailed the servants of Christ. There was a Frank called Herlvin who could speak both languages, so the barons addressed him. Go to this Turk, they said. Tell him we wonder at his insolent conduct. Has he arrived for the purpose of molesting us? Or does he wish to be converted?

  Away went Herlvin to the assemblage of Turks and spoke as directed, demanding to know why they invaded Christian land. Our leaders would have you depart at once, said he. They grant you leave to collect your possessions, your mules, horses, camels, cattle and sheep. Take them with you as you wish.

  And when Herlvin returned he told how Kerbogha answered fiercely.

  Your God and your religion we neither seek nor desire. Both do we spurn absolutely. We have come hither because we reject your claim to this land, which we took from weak and effeminate people. Therefore if you wish to become Turks and deny the God you worship with heads bowed, and renounce your laws, we shall generously give you this land and more, castles and cities. If you do so you will become knights and we will esteem your friendship. But if you do not, know this. You will be led captive in chains to Chorosan where you will serve us and our children and their children forever.

  Then the Franks prayed and fasted for three days, after which they swung open the gates and in unison marched forth, singing as one, led by clerics and bishops in surplice and cap who invoked the saints and held up crosses. They called on God to strengthen His children, granting them victory to affirm the sanctity of His blood. Documents from those days relate that few Frankish knights were mounted on chargers, most bestrode donkeys or camels, so impoverished were they. Behind this army walked servants and peasants armed with cudgels, bills, pikes. And among pilgrims of low estate marched women carrying rocks in their sleeves, accompanied by children who meant to die with their parents.