Both knights kept well away from the women of the camp, including the beauties captured from the Turks. Theodore suspected the pair might even be monks, secretly sworn to vows of poverty and chastity in obedience to their vision. He often wondered if they had persuaded the Bishop of Orange, now the religious leader of the Army of God after Adhémar’s death, to ordain them priests. They certainly remained warriors, fierce in battle, expert swordsmen highly skilled with lance and bow.
The Poor Brethren of the Temple, which had left Provence with such high hopes, was now more of a loosely knit contingent than a brotherhood. At Antioch it was replaced by a confraternity of knights whom Hugh and Godefroi attracted to their standards. They adopted a new banner fashioned out of an altar cloth displaying a red cross on a white background. They wore the same insignia on their left breast or the shoulder of their great cloaks. The knights who joined them accepted the published rule, though Eleanor was amused at a debate about whether they should shave their heads and faces or let their hair and beards grow. In the late autumn of 1098 the latter was accepted, though the unkempt appearance of the new brotherhood belied their military skills. They went on raids, tightly organised squadrons under the iron-hard discipline of Hugh. They took prisoners and treated them honourably. The violation of women captives was strictly forbidden. All possessions were to be held in common, every item of plunder handed over to the common treasury under Godefroi. They took over one of the small towers near Bridge Gate, which they renamed the Portal of the Temple, a name also shared by their brotherhood. Here they observed the horarium of the Benedictine order: morning Mass, celebrated by Alberic and Norbert, who acted as their chaplains, followed by the divine offices of Matins, Lauds and the rest. These knights also changed their attitude towards the leaders, distancing themselves from the rivalry of the Normans under Bohemond and the Provençals under Count Raymond and spending a considerable amount of time helping the poor amongst the Army of God. The Brotherhood of the Portal of the Temple set up a hospital as well as a common refectory serving food and drink to all comers. They even had their own exchequer for the distribution of money, an almonry for the weak and infirm, and an armoury for those bereft of weapons. They helped women, particularly widows or those on their own. They excluded these from the brotherhood, although they accepted able-bodied men as squires, pages and servants.
Hugh and Godefroi worked like men possessed, rarely returning to the house except late in the evening. Quite often they’d stay in the dormitories established in their own tower. They truly believed that God had a plan for them and that their secret vision had kept them safe. Tens of thousands had died, but they, Eleanor, Theodore, Alberic and Norbert were, apart from petty wounds and mild sicknesses, miraculously preserved, as were those on the edge of their company such as Imogene and Beltran, who were now living openly as man and wife. Moreover, the danger from the Magus, that sinister relic-hunter, and those fanatics the Fedawi appeared to have receded. Theodore agreed with this, arguing that perhaps all had been killed, either in battle or by sickness. Simeon thought differently. He was fascinated by the stories about the Fedawi being amongst them and found it difficult to accept that they would send emissaries so far away from their lonely hilltop fortress. However, he, Eleanor and Theodore were in agreement that Baldur’s ripping off of his belt and throwing it in the dust with the words: ‘hang your traitor with that’ was truly puzzling, a possible reference to the fact that their secret opponent, or opponents, might only have disappeared for the time being.
In the late autumn of 1098 the harvest Hugh and Godefroi had sown began to sprout. A new faction or party emerged opposed to both Normans and Provençals, a movement that included the common mass, the poor of the Army of the God. They called themselves the ‘Jerusalemites’ and their message was stark and simple: enough time had been wasted in Antioch squabbling over plunder; the army should march on Jerusalem immediately. The surge of protests, managed skilfully by Hugh and Godefroi, intensified. Peter the Hermit joined their ranks and became the Jerusalemites’ eloquent mouthpiece throughout the city. Eventually they forced the leaders to return to Antioch from their various foraging campaigns. The army lined the streets and cheered as the Great Ones trooped back into the city, their carts piled high with plunder, followed by long columns of Turkish prisoners with the severed heads of their comrades tied around their necks. Nevertheless, the Jerusalemites soon forced the council of leaders to meet and Peter the Hermit stated their cause.
‘Since the Lords are restrained by fear or other reasons, or by their promises to the Emperor, from leading us to Jerusalem, we, the people, shall elect from amonst us men-at-arms, people brave and faithful in the service of the Lord, with whom we will go on. Does it not trouble the princes,’ Peter proclaimed, ‘our lords, that we have delayed here for a year and that thousands of armed men have died here? Those who want to stay and gather gold, let them stay! Those who want Antioch, let them have it! We, however, shall set out on the road. Those who stay here will perish without doing any good, just like those who died here in the past. Indeed we have every day so many disputes in Antioch that we shall tear down its walls in order to restore the peace we had before the city was ever taken. Instead of being weakened by hunger and quarrelling, we ought to return to our pilgrimage.’
The lords of the council could not resist such a plea. The decision was made and a compromise reached. In November 1098 the army marched deeper into Syria, intent on taking Marrat en Numan a vital fortress controlling the routes further south. Marrat was a well-fortified town dominated by its blue-domed mosque on a great hill which stared out as the Army of God camped down amongst the olive groves beyond the city walls. The Franks set up their tents and bothies, covered with desiccated vine twine for protection, then watched and waited. Marrat was certainly well defended, with its formidable curtain wall, towers and deep dry moat. The Turks were not fearful; they had beaten off previous forays by the Franks and they thought this would be no different. The entire population of the city crowded along the battlements, cursing the Franks, railing at their cowardice and festooning inverted crosses over the walls. This provoked the desired response. The Army of God immediately attacked, bridging the dry moat and setting up flimsy ladders against the walls. These were easily destroyed, and the Franks withdrew and settled down to lay siege.
November gave way to December. Cold, hard rain rotted their tents, drenching depleted food stocks. The Franks, Eleanor included, were forced out into the fields, grubbing and scratching to find grains of wheat, barely, lentil or any other vegetable. Peter Bartholomew came into his own. Posing as a new John the Baptist, he accused the Army of God of countless filthy sins: murder, pillage, theft, rape and adultery; these, he argued, were the true cause of their present misfortunes. He urged that they purify their souls through the sacraments, prayer and the giving of alms. His comrades agreed, then swiftly turned to more practical matters.
The walls of Marrat were too thick to be battered, so the besiegers could either go over them or under. The Franks first tried the latter. They filled in part of the dry moat and their sappers crossed, only to be met by boulders, darts, bundles of fire, even pots of lime and hives full of angry bees. The sappers retreated and the Franks thought again. Raymond of Toulouse, assisted by the Portal of the Temple, ordered his troops into the nearby olive groves. Wood was swiftly hewed and a massive siege tower built which could be rolled forward on four great wheels. On the top Everard the Hunter, Raymond of Toulouse’s chief verderer, armed with his horn, directed the knights who, in full armour, pushed the tower towards the wall. At its base sappers crept forward to tunnel under the wall to weaken that section. The Turks met this with catapult shots and sheets of fire. The knights on top of the tower responded by hurling lances, clubs and boulders as well as great hooks on iron chains to circle the battlements and so drag the tower closer. Behind them a long line of white-vestmented priests beseeched God to help the tower wreak bloody havoc on their enemies. Meanwhile, on the other side of the town, another phalanx of knights crossed the ditch, laid siege ladders against the walls and stormed up. The Turks panicked, drawing men away from the attacking tower. This edged closer, part of the wall collapsed and the Franks poured into the city just as darkness fell. The Frankish leaders ordered a pause, reluctant to engage in night fighting. The poor, however, starving and furious, led by Tarfur and his Ribalds, swept through Marrat pillaging and killing to their hearts’ content. Bohemond, who had also agreed to accompany Raymond, offered to accept the surrender of some of the city leaders, ordering them to assemble in a certain place for their own protection. However, as dawn broke and the leaders became aware that wholesale plundering had already begun, Bohemond had the Turkish leaders stripped of their possessions. Some were executed and the survivors hurried back to Antioch to be sold as slaves.