In a break with previous intentions, and at the instance of both Godfrey de Bouillon and Raymond, one cleric called Arnulf was appointed to the See of Jerusalem. He being bound to take Mass in the Roman rite, that was a message to Byzantium and the Emperor Alexius Comnenus that whatever vows had been taken in Constantinople were now void.
Secular dissension was unabated: Raymond of Toulouse, always with an eye on how to exert pressure on his confreres, had quickly occupied the Tower of David, into which Iftikhar ad-Daulah had fled with his best troops, a detachment of Egyptian cavalry. In order to secure it peacefully, Raymond had given Iftikhar and his men safe passage to the west, which was seen as folly, given any attempt at recapture must come from that direction.
Not that Raymond was bothered: the Tower of David acted as the citadel of Jerusalem as much as that which Bohemund had held fast did for Antioch. Without it the Holy City was not secure and when called upon to give it up, Toulouse refused, still hoping that by his action he could claim title to the whole. In this he was thwarted by his own unpopularity set against that of the man who could claim to have engineered the capture.
Godfrey de Bouillon was the choice of the host for his personal piety. A degree of political wisdom had him listen to the priests who insisted that no man should allow himself to be called ‘King’ in the city of which God was the only sovereign. Accepting the title of Advocate of the Holy Sepulchre, he knew that what he had taken on was a fief in all but name, a wealthy one and one that would require to be defended: it was a prize of incalculable importance to three faiths.
In a huff Raymond decamped to an encampment in Jericho, leaving the Tower of David to be held by Bishop Peter of Narbonne; he promptly betrayed the man who had favoured him with the See of Albara and handed it over to Godfrey. Yet Jerusalem was not secure: scouting to the west, Tancred had caught wind of a huge army landing and gathering around the port of Ascalon. It was under the personal command of the Vizier of Cairo and further enquiry produced the alarming proportion that the Crusade, even combined, was outnumbered by a measure of four to one.
‘Here I can invoke the name of Bohemund,’ Tancred insisted, once more back in the Holy City and able to alert the new advocate to the looming threat. ‘If we stay inside the walls of Jerusalem it will be a repeat of what we faced with Kerbogha.’
‘Even if the gate of St Stephen is fully repaired?’ asked Normandy.
‘We overcame it, My Lord, and therefore we must accept that others might follow our example.’
‘Do they have our spirit,’ Godfrey mused, ‘… or our ability?’
‘What they have is numbers and I would say what my uncle always advocated, if there is to be a battle let us choose the ground on which it is to be fought.’
‘And I say let them batter themselves against the walls.’
Nonplussed that Normandy should advocate such a course, Tancred pressed on.
‘One of the factors that sustained us during our siege was the sure knowledge that the Fatimids were no more loved than their Turkish predecessors. We expected to hold this city with the good opinion of the inhabitants, but can that be said to be so after the actions of our newly consecrated bishop and his priests?’
Arnulf was present and offended, even more so when Tancred pointed out how, by barring other Christians, who made up the bulk of the population, from the holy sites, he had mightily alienated them. In order to counter his own folly he had ‘miraculously’ discovered a piece of the True Cross, which to Tancred, his own piety much dented, looked very suspiciously like a repeat of the Holy Lance. Clearly the Jerusalemites felt a similar suspicion, for they had failed to rally to Arnulf’s relic.
‘We can only adopt the course you advocate, Tancred, if we are joined by Raymond.’
Normandy responded to Godfrey in a manner that, if he shocked him, he did well to disguise. ‘I will not march on the news Tancred has brought to us.’
‘You do not see the threat?’ Godfrey asked.
‘I see an army disembarking but I do not see one marching towards us. Unless they do and their intention is clear, why should we countenance the threat as real?’
‘I cannot think you believe that,’ Flanders exclaimed.
Normally friendly to his brother-in-law, Normandy snapped back. ‘Being related to me by matrimony does not give you leave to question my judgement.’
Flanders was not to be put down; his response was just as forceful. ‘If I observe any judgement within you, perhaps I would question it, as it is I see nothing but foolishness.’
‘I could make you eat those words.’
‘You could try.’
‘My Lords, I beg of you,’ Godfrey cried. ‘Let us not bicker.’
‘No, let us not,’ Normandy replied, ‘and to ensure there is no more of such I will withdraw.’
The advocate was left looking at his fellow nobleman’s back and Tancred surmised he was thinking that now Godfrey was close to understanding the depth of the task that had so troubled Bishop Ademar of Puy, this as Flanders spoke.
‘I agree with Tancred. If we are to meet this vizier let us do so in open battle, where our tactics have always favoured us.’
‘You wish to march out and face the Egyptians,’ asked Godfrey softly, ‘without Toulouse or your kinsman of Normandy?’
‘I do. If God’s grace got us to where we now stand, I have faith that he will continue to bless us with his favour.’
‘I agree,’ Tancred said.
‘Then let it be so, and may God protect and preserve us.’
Led by the nobles and Bishop Arnulf, parading his piece of the True Cross, barefoot and in prayer, the half-host under Godfrey left Jerusalem to take on the might of Egypt. Such was the shame heaped upon both Robert of Normandy and Raymond of Toulouse by their own followers that both men were obliged, only days later, to lead their forces to join with them at Ramleh, the Provencals still using as a totem the Holy Lance. Jerusalem was stripped of fighting men, left to be held by prayer alone and once more, as on so many occasions, the Crusade was facing either triumph or death.
Luck or divine intervention gave them details of al-Afdal’s intentions, this tortured out of a group of captured Egyptian scouts. The Vizier had completed his landings, bringing from his domains a massive force made up of heavy Egyptian cavalry, Berbers, Bedouins and giant Ethiopians. His intention was to march on Jerusalem on the very next day. In the discussion of how to respond, Tancred once more invoked the name of Bohemund, advocating that boldness would outweigh Fatimid numbers.
‘We know where they are camped and we know they think themselves invincible,’ he insisted, ‘and therein lies our best weapon, their own arrogance.’
‘Trust a de Hauteville to know all about arrogance,’ Raymond of Toulouse cawed.
That got him a jaundiced look from Godfrey de Bouillon, now, even to Raymond’s own knights, the undisputed commander of the host. So telling was that glance that the Count of Toulouse had no more to contribute.
‘Let us attack him, instead of waiting for him to attack us.’
Flanders demurred. ‘Defensive battle suits us.’
‘Which al-Afdal well knows. He will anticipate that we will pick a good field on which to fight him and dispose his troops accordingly.’
‘And we should do what?’ Godfrey asked, his eyes ranging around the pavilion; no one but Tancred responded.
‘Attack him at first light.’
It took an age for Godfrey to make a decision, but when he did the words were prophetic. ‘May the Good Lord preserve and protect us.’
Marching out in darkness, the host found that in al-Afdal they had an adversary so full of confidence that he had not thought to set out piquets on the outskirts of Ascalon to warn of any hostile approach. Unhindered, the Crusaders fell upon his encampment while many of his men were barely aroused from their night’s slumber, their arms stacked still by their campfires and slow to be employed. In a situation where mercy, never in good supply, would have been folly, the slaughter was immense.