Crusade

Robert was a well-organized leader. The daily march was carefully shepherded and the route meticulously plotted; only the dust of southern Italy created some minor inconvenience. We all had mixed feelings. The cause seemed worthy enough — to replace oppressive Muslim rule with a benign Christian realm like the one Count Roger had created in Sicily, a sovereignty now welcomed by Muslims.

But what if the stories were exaggerated, or not even true?

When we arrived at Bari, we met with the two larger convoys, the armies of Robert of Flanders and Stephen of Blois. A huge armada of Pisan, Genoese and Venetian ships was waiting for us, but the captains advised us that the autumn gales of the Adriatic were too great a risk and suggested we sit and wait for the spring. That was easier said than done but, with his typical calm efficiency, Robert made a detailed plan which the other two leaders were happy to accept.

To prevent us swamping the local population and resources, we retreated far into the woods of the hilly hinterland to make camp, and only quartermasters and stewards were allowed to Bari to buy provisions in the markets. Most of our food we would find for ourselves in the forests and rivers, and we would make our own entertainment.

After an uneventful but surprisingly cold winter gorging ourselves on fish and game, we finally crossed the Adriatic and landed in Durazzo in late February 1097. There we met two more huge caravans of Crusaders: the knights of Bohemond of Taranto, who had sailed from Brindisi; and the biggest army of all, the formidable collection of zealots and soldiers of fortune under the command of Raymond of Toulouse and his son, Bertrand, who had chosen to cross the plains of northern Italy and follow the Adriatic coast from Trieste.

We used the old Roman road from Durazzo to Constantinople and made good progress despite the now gargantuan scale of our army, a host of over 60,000. Despite our best efforts, Count Raymond was impetuous and cared little for the peasant communities we were passing. We descended on them like a plague of locusts, leaving in our wake fields, barns and markets bare of anything edible or useful.

Discipline began to decline and soon money was no longer left in exchange for goods; they were simply stolen. Whores weren’t rewarded for their services, and eventually were discarded altogether in favour of the rape of local women.

Alexius, the Emperor of Byzantium, had sent emissaries and small units of the Imperial Guard to greet us in Durazzo, no doubt to keep an eye on us. Understandably, these men tried to prevent the looting and, inevitably, violent clashes followed, among the worst of which took place in the Ancient Greek city of Thessaloniki, one of Byzantium’s most important centres of trade and learning.

Although we insisted that the army camp outside the city, many of the young knights were restless and knew that, like any other thriving port, Thessaloniki’s waterfront would have available all the diversions a saddle-weary soldier would require. By mid-evening on the first night, the noise of mayhem was already drifting up the hillsides of the city. Most of our leadership was indifferent to the problem, but Robert asked me to mount my contingent and bring order to the city. He gave me two of his conrois to add his authority to our presence.

What we found when we arrived in the narrow streets of the docks area was akin to a battleground. The Emperor’s men had scattered to the hills, intimidated by the huge number of ill-disciplined Christians. Shops and warehouses were ablaze, carts were piled high with anything of value, and bodies were strewn everywhere. The brothels were empty — the girls had presumably recognized the danger signs and left — but women were screaming from every direction as our valiant Christian Crusaders marauded through the streets, kicking down doors and looking for women and girls.

I organized small squads of a dozen men, with a senior knight leading each one, and sent them on street-by-street missions to stop the looting and rape. Their task was unpleasant, but not difficult, as most of the miscreants were so drunk they were unable to put up much of a fight. Adela was a particularly effective admonisher, kicking and punching the men until they did her bidding but dealing gently with the women she found, making sure that someone was on hand to take care of them.

We organized carts to transport the men back to camp in disgrace, and we helped the locals to identify their belongings and then returned what was left of them. Sadly, as in the examples from central Europe, it was Thessaloniki’s Jewish community which bore the brunt of the crimes. The docks area was a Jewish enclave and, once again, they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

As we got close to Constantinople, the final groups of Crusaders joined us — Germans, north Europeans and Lotharingians, led by Duke Godfrey of Bouillon — making us into an army over 80,000 strong.