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Article

Relics as Instruments of Divine Leadership in the First Crusade

Department of Medieval and Early Modern History, Institute of History, University of Debrecen, Egyetem tér 1, 4032 Debrecen, Hungary
Religions 2025, 16(4), 486; https://doi.org/10.3390/rel16040486
Submission received: 18 January 2025 / Revised: 13 March 2025 / Accepted: 18 March 2025 / Published: 9 April 2025
(This article belongs to the Special Issue The Medieval Crusades History)

Abstract

:
The use of relics for exhortation was not a novelty of the First Crusade, but it is remarkable how, in the most crucial moments, various relics were found and used effectively to inspire pilgrims. Beyond their motivational function, they also contributed to fostering a sense of unity among the diverse and leadership-fragmented masses by framing power in abstract terms and linking the Crusaders directly to God. Due to this role, relics may also have had the capacity to tip the balance of power and legitimacy in favour of one participant in this divided context. This study examines how these phenomena are illustrated through several well-known examples, such as the Holy Lance of Antioch, the relics of the True Cross, and other relics of the saints mentioned by our sources.

1. Introduction

On 15 July 1099, three years after their departure, the soldiers of the First Crusade fulfilled their vow by capturing Jerusalem. The path to this achievement was fraught with challenges, and the enterprise narrowly avoided failure on several occasions.
Extensive research has been conducted on the spirituality of the Crusade. Scholars generally conclude that the Crusaders’ lives were deeply permeated by faith, given that their initial decision to join the pilgrimage stemmed from religious zeal.1 The Crusaders constantly sought manifestations of divine intervention, interpreting all events as God’s guiding or punitive hand. The clergy played a crucial role in maintaining the army’s morale, with relics assuming significant importance in this effort.
People in the Middle Ages believed that the spiritual power of saints resided in their relics. They thought that through these relics, they could establish a connection with the relic’s former owner and, through their mediation, with Christ himself. Historians liken the power of relics to energy fields, capturing their symbolic and spiritual significance.2 The cult of relics originated as a form of popular devotion, offering a more tangible and accessible way to understand religion. Over time, it was successfully integrated into the practices of the institutional Church, partly because ecclesiastical legislators had decreed that all altars should contain relics, and partly due to the rise of avid collectors and large collections in Carolingian churches and monasteries.3 Consequently, it is not surprising that relics held considerable influence among both the magnates and minores of Western Europe, who set out in large numbers in response to the call of Pope Urban II (1088–1099). The relationship between relics and warfare is already mentioned in the Concilium Germanicum of 742, which identifies the carrying of relics as one of the most important duties of bishops participating in military campaigns.4
Alan V. Murray places the relic of the True Cross among war relics such as the Oriflamme or the caroccios of Lombard towns. In the context of such symbols of power, Voltmer emphasises in his study about caroccio that they were important tools for understanding the abstract concept of power, especially when it was not tied to a specific person, as in the case of the Italian cities.5 Given the complexity of the Crusader pilgrims and their leadership, which also brought a nuanced understanding of the question of authority, these symbols were equally necessary in this context.
Therefore, the primary aim of this study is to examine the circumstances surrounding the discovery of two major relics, the Holy Lance and the True Cross, as well as several minor ones, and to investigate how they influenced the morale and leadership of the Crusader armies.
The first relic I discuss is the Holy Lance, discovered during the defence of Antioch in July 1098, which appears to have dramatically shifted the morale of the army. After the authenticity of the Lance was questioned, the Crusaders found several minor relics in the Church of Blessed Leontius in Syria, which is discussed separately in the following section. The second major relic to be considered is the True Cross, given to the Crusaders by a Syrian Christian in Jerusalem on 5 August 1099, just one day after they received news that the Egyptian Grand Vizier, Shah-an-Shah al-Afdal, was advancing toward the city. This newly discovered relic restored the Crusaders’ spirits and played a significant role in the forthcoming Battle of Ascalon on 12 August.
Given the fundamentally spiritual orientation of the campaign, participants were acutely aware of their direct relationship with God, often interpreting their circumstances as manifestations of divine reward or punishment. Relics functioned as both companions and instruments, connecting the Crusaders to God and symbolizing divine favour for their efforts and suffering. In a politically fragmented and faction-ridden context, the “discovery” of a relic carried considerable significance, particularly when associated with a specific individual. This is exemplified by the Holy Lance, which, according to Peter Bartholomew,6 a pilgrim from Provence—reportedly guided by Saint Andrew—was intended for the leader of the Provençal crusading army, Raymond IV of Saint-Gilles, Count of Toulouse, thereby designating him as the standard-bearer of the Crusader army. In contrast, the Relic of the True Cross, uncovered in Jerusalem, was not tied to an individual but played a pivotal role in rallying the Crusader forces. As the army began to fragment while preparing to return home, the relic united them for one final battle and reinforced Arnulf of Chocques’7 authority as Patriarch of Jerusalem.
Quite a few similarities can be identified between these two relics. In terms of their origins, both relics are connected to the Passion of Christ. Regarding the circumstances of their discovery, it is worth noting that both were found in militarily-threatened environments and were carried by the Crusaders as military talismans to which they attributed special protective powers. Another interesting point is that both relics were discovered at times when the Crusader camp was far from unified. However, they differ in one crucial aspect: while the authenticity of the Holy Lance was questioned during the First Crusade, the True Cross remained a military relic of the Kingdom of Jerusalem until its loss at the Battle of Hattin in 1187.

2. The Holy Lance

After an arduous eight-month siege (October 1097–June 1098), the Crusaders finally captured Antioch on 3 June 1098. However, their triumph was short-lived. On 4 June, the vanguard of Kerbogha, the Emir of Mosul, arrived and initiated a counter-siege. Many soldiers managed to escape before the encirclement was fully completed.8 According to the Gesta Francorum, the conditions inside the city quickly deteriorated to the point where the Crusaders began consuming their horses and donkeys and eventually resorted to eating the animals’ skins. Those without any resources succumbed to starvation.9
Despite these dire circumstances, the Crusaders displayed an astonishing resurgence of morale three weeks later. As Raymond of Aguilers recorded, they “rattled their arms, waved their spears, and boisterously celebrated with acts and speeches” before marching out of the city to face Kerbogha’s vastly superior forces. Against all odds, they inflicted a decisive defeat on the besieging army.10
This sudden reversal of fortune was far from coincidental. A combination of spiritual fervour, bolstered by the discovery of the Holy Lance, and the Crusaders’ mounting desperation infused them with a renewed sense of purpose. These elements, along with critical tactical errors on Kerbogha’s part, were pivotal in securing this remarkable victory.

2.1. Discovery of the Lance and the Victory of Antioch (28 June 1098)

Visions often emerged when physical and mental strength was depleted, whether due to illness or prolonged asceticism—this was especially true in Antioch, where, as Steven Runciman notes, the oppressive summer heat, deteriorating health conditions, and acute food shortages created an atmosphere in which dreams and visions flourished.11 The first notable vision was experienced by Stephen, a priest from Valence. In his vision, Christ appeared to him, emphasizing that all victories were granted solely through divine grace. However, Christ reproached the Crusaders for prioritizing their own desires over their spiritual obligations.12 In the vision, Christ instructed Stephen that the Crusaders must return to Him and sing the responsory Congregate sunt (“They are assembled”)—which begs Christ to break the power of His enemies, along with its accompanying verse, every day. He promised that if they followed this directive, He would assist them on the fifth day.13 This case is a good example of how the Crusaders perceived their association with the Lord as a type of agreement in which they were indebted to offer service in exchange for divine favour and protection.14 Even more significant than Stephen’s vision was the account of Peter Bartholomew. He claimed that Saint Andrew, through a series of visions, had revealed the location of the Holy Lance in Saint Peter’s Church—the spear with which the Roman soldier Longinus pierced the body of the crucified Jesus Christ in Saint John’s Gospel.15
“Therefore, upon hearing the speeches of the one who had conveyed to us the revelation of Christ through the words of the apostle, we immediately hastened to the place in the church of Saint Peter that he had indicated. Thirteen men dug there from morning until evening. In this way, that man found the Lance as he had indicated, and they took it with great joy and fear …”16
The leaders effectively coordinated the two visions: Stephen’s vision can be dated to the night of June 10–11,17 while the Holy Lance was discovered on the night of June 14–15.18 This timing allowed for the interpretation that the divine aid promised by Christ in Stephen’s vision arrived precisely on the fifth day, as foretold.19 The impact of these events was immediate and profound: the Gesta Francorum continues, “and immense rejoicing arose throughout the entire city. From that hour, we took counsel among ourselves concerning the war”.20 One of the other eye-witness chroniclers, Peter Tudebode reports that even the Greek, Armenian, and Syrian inhabitants rejoiced chanting Kyrie eleison (“Lord, have mercy”).21 Emboldened by the discovery of this new relic, the Crusaders marched out to confront their enemy on June 28, where they achieved victory.22

2.2. The Role of the Holy Lance in the Discord Among the Crusader Leaders

Following the triumph at Antioch, the Crusaders began to take possession of various parts of the city, leading to a division among the pilgrims as each faction occupied different sections. The army was divided into two major factions: one led by Raymond of Saint-Gilles and the other by Bohemond, Prince of Taranto. The root of the conflict lay in the possession of the city, as the Crusader leaders had previously sworn to hand over all occupied territories—just as they had done with Nicaea—to the Byzantine Emperor Alexios I Comnenus (1057–1118).23 In the eyes of the Crusaders, however, the emperor had broken the agreement24 by failing to assist them at Antioch. As a result, Bohemond considered the oath to be no longer binding and claimed the city for himself, citing an earlier promise made by the leaders.25 The situation was further exacerbated by an outbreak of disease in the city, which resulted in the death of Adhemar of Le Puy, the papal legate of the campaign.
The role of Bishop Adhemar is assessed differently by historians,26 but in the Raymond of Aguilers’ chronicle, Adhemar is depicted as the leader of the campaign.27 The bishop’s death also contributed to the dispersal of the army.28 Evidence of the leaders’ uncertainty is found in a surviving letter written by Bohemond, Raymond of Saint-Gilles, and other leaders, addressed to Pope Urban II on 11 September 1098. In the letter, they report the death of Adhemar, who had been appointed as Urban’s representative (vicarius), and request that the Pope come to Antioch to personally lead the armies to Jerusalem.29 The letter, written in October by the clergy and citizens of Lucca, also reports the Crusaders’ successes and concludes with the information that “Lord Pope Urban is holding a council at Bari, discussing and arranging with many senators of the land to proceed towards Jerusalem”.30
Despite the information presumably provided by the Lucca letter, the leaders could not be certain that Urban would respond to their appeal. The reorganisation of the campaign’s leadership and the movement toward Jerusalem may have been organised from below, with the relic of the Holy Lance playing a significant role as a tool for both manipulating and inspiring the masses.31
According to the most detailed eyewitness account provided by Raymond of Aguilers, on the second day after the discovery of the Lance, Peter Bartholomew was visited by Saint Andrew again. During this visit, the Saint designated Count Raymond of Saint-Gilles as the standard-bearer (vexillifer) of the Crusader army by bestowing upon him the Lance, which the Lord “never wished to grant to anyone else” (quod nulliæ umquam donare voluit). This act made Raymond of Saint-Gilles the “leader and lord of the army” (ductor et dominus exercitus)32 from which he profited to advance his political interests.33 After the capture of Albara (late September 1098), following a sermon by Peter of Narbonne34 the newly appointed bishop of Albara, the “soldiers and many others” (milites et omni populos) referred to Raymond of Saint-Gilles as the one who had received this divine reward in order to lead them to Jerusalem. If Raymond refused to fulfil his responsibility, they insisted that he hand over the Lance to the people, so that, under the Lord’s guidance, they could march to Jerusalem themselves.35
The leaders suspended the continuation of the journey until November 1098, which displeased the pilgrims, and the dispute over the possession of Antioch persisted.36 Albert of Aachen notes that the pilgrims were already contemplating abandoning their leaders. They believed that the magnates were motivated solely by the pursuit of wealth and possessions, while they themselves had left their homes for Christ. Consequently, the idea of self-leadership emerges again.37 This phenomenon, which John France has already highlighted, indicates that the negotiations and disputes among the leaders led to “the spirit of the People’s Crusade reborn”.38 It appears that the Lance inspired the pilgrims with the notion that a direct celestial connection rendered temporal leaders unnecessary for fulfilling their vow to reclaim the Holy Sepulchre. The relic functions as a symbol of a contract made with Christ, in which the parties commit to fulfilling their vows on one side and providing assistance on the other. If the leaders hinder the campaign with their disputes, or—as seen in the account of Raymond of Aguilers—if Count Raymond of Saint-Gilles fails to uphold the conditions, then the relic must be handed over to those who do: the masses.
The continuation of this idea is evident later, after the capture of Maarat an-Numan (12 December 1098), when renewed disputes prompted the pilgrims to tear down the walls of the city, compelling the leaders to depart.39 Further pressure emerged during the prolonged siege of Arqa (January–May 1099), when the army forced Count Raymond to abandon the siege by setting fire to the camp and proceeding to Jerusalem.40
It is worth noting that the pressure from the poor may have had not only a spiritual dimension but also a practical one, as Raymond of Aguilers describes that, due to the disputes, “the affairs of the poor were annulled”.41 Thus, it is plausible that the pursuit of food and spoils42 also played a role in their eventual pressure on the leaders. The enthusiasm of the poor, or vulgus, can be explained by Saint Andrew’s proclamations. As Rogers points out, Saint Andrew displayed a special regard for the poor from the beginning. All were called to participate in almsgiving and liturgy, highlighting the crusade’s structure as a shared pilgrimage rather than a hierarchical expedition.43
This mentality is also reflected in their battle cry when Peter Bartholomew reports that prior to the Battle of Antioch, God instructed the army to cease using the triumphant Deus vult (God wills it) as their battle cry, directing them instead to adopt Deus adiuva (God help us), with the promise that God would aid them.44 Gaposchkin emphasises that the shift to Deus adiuva signalled a transition from the confident militarism of the war liturgies to the penitential supplication characteristic of pilgrimage rites; afterward, this phrase became the standard battle cry.45

2.3. The Authenticity of the Holy Lance

The questions surrounding the authenticity of the Holy Lance are so well known that I only briefly summarise the events.46 While the Lance’s authenticity was open to doubt from the very beginning, the leaders quickly recognised its profound influence on the masses and therefore chose not to question it. In the following, I aim to demonstrate how steadfastly the group, whose distinguished status derived from the Lance’s sacred status, defended its authenticity amidst the ensuing debates.
Even the circumstances of the relic’s discovery were uncertain. According to Raymond of Aguilers, after extensive excavation work, Peter encouraged everyone to pray—Kostick aptly notes that this diverted everyone’s attention—and then jumped alone into the pit and lifted up a whole spearhead.47 Even witnessing the discovery of the artifact, Adhemar remained sceptical,48 according to Steven Runciman, may have been influenced by the fact that the papal legate had previously seen the Holy Lance preserved in the Chapel of the Virgin at the Pharos in Constantinople, a relic whose authenticity traces back to Saint Helena.49 Addressing the question of authenticity is essential, as it also reflects the mindset of the group that derived its primus inter pares position from the sacred status of the Lance.
Upon the relic’s discovery, Adhemar, recognising the camp’s enthusiasm for it, chose not to voice his doubts.50 As Asbridge notes, as a senior cleric, it was Adhemar’s responsibility to rigorously assess the authenticity of visions, miracles, and relics. It is probable that, to neutralise his former doubts, the deceased Bishop Adhemar was laid to rest in the same pit where the Holy Lance was discovered, which Thomas Asbridge called the “physical fusion of the two cults as a masterstroke of manipulation”.51 Later, Peter Bartholomew reported that the late bishop visited him multiple times in visions.52 Russo points out that it was the acceptance of the Lance by such authoritative figures as Raymond of Saint-Gilles and Adhemar that legitimised its authenticity in the eyes of sceptics.53 In fact, Peter’s attempt to validate the authenticity of the relic through a series of dreams and visions was not a unique practice.54
Despite the above, Ibn al-Athīr and Ralph of Caen, both contemporary sources though not eyewitnesses, assert that Peter Bartholomew concealed and discovered the spearhead.55 During the siege of Arqa, Peter Bartholomew clearly utilised his visions and the Holy Lance in service of the aims of Raymond of Saint-Gilles.56 In addition to the clear political benefit, Giese highlights that a critical point was Peter Bartholomew’s claim that Christ appeared to him as someone from low social classes. This would so starkly contradict the world and social order established by God that it led contemporaries to suspect Peter of lying, thus concluding that the Lance itself was a forgery.57 The situation escalated to the point that, on 6 and 7 April 1099, a council of clergy convened to discuss the authenticity of the Holy Lance, resulting in Peter Bartholomew undergoing a trial by fire on April 8 and surviving with minimal burns.58 Although Raymond of Aguilers writes that the crowd rushed to Peter in celebration, attempting to touch him as though he were a living saint and acquire relics from him, Morris argues that among the celebratory crowd were armed men who fatally wounded the visionary, and he ultimately succumbed to his injuries around April 20.59 The image becomes much more interesting when we add to the above considerations Ralph of Caen’s account, which reports that after the trial by fire, Raymond of Saint-Gilles sent assassins against Arnulf of Chocques, who led the opposing faction.60 The passions went beyond the issue of the relic’s authenticity, and the focus was much more likely on the ductor et dominus exercitus associated with it. This relic rivalry may have involved Arnulf commissioning an image of Christ, for which everyone contributed gold, silver, and precious stones, a gesture that, according to Riley-Smith, was intended to motivate the disheartened ones.61
Although Peter Bartholomew successfully underwent the trial by fire, which should have validated the Lance’s authenticity, the relic disappears from the sources for a period. Even the most informative chronicler, Raymond of Aguilers, does not mention it during the siege of Jerusalem (12 June–15 July 1099), and it only reappears at the Battle of Ascalon (12 August 1099). It is possible that contemporaries sensed the need to “rest” the Lance for a time, as Raymond recounts that it was decided to carry it only under proper circumstances thereafter. Another point in favour of the divine mandate attached to the relic is that after the trial by fire, Raymond of Saint-Gilles sent William Hugh of Monteil, brother of the Bishop of Le Puy, to Latakia to retrieve Adhemar’s cross and hood, which had been left behind, to bring back to the Crusaders’ camp.62 However, this action had the opposite effect of what the count expected:
“…William Hugh of Monteil returned with the above mentioned Cross. The sight of the Cross so agitated the entourage of the Count concerning the journey that contrary to the advice of Raymond and other princes they burned their shelters and were the first to leave Arqa”.63

2.4. The Fall of the Relic?

The function of the Holy Lance relic was twofold: first, its discovery perfectly aligned with the pilgrims’ need for divine intervention, as they believed that, given their desperate situation and the failure of negotiations, only heavenly aid could deliver them from Antioch. Second, the Lance was used to quell the power vacuum that arose after Bishop Adhemar’s death by legitimising the appointment of Raymond as commander of the army, which conveniently coincided with a divine endorsement. It is likely that the authenticity of the Lance was accredited by Adhemar, Bishop of Le Puy, as doubters regularly referred to him, though the unexpected victory at Antioch was probably more significant in reinforcing its legitimacy.64 Even though the relic’s authenticity was questioned from the moment of its discovery, even Bohemond, one of the leaders of the opposing faction, referenced it in a letter jointly written to Pope Urban II (September 1098).65 The Lance’s legitimacy may have been discredited during the siege of Arqa through Peter Bartholomew’s trial by fire, yet it continued to be noted among the significant military symbols in chronicles.
It is interesting, however, that the Lance does not appear during the siege of Jerusalem, only resurfacing later in the battle of Ascalon on 12 August, even though by then the Crusaders possessed the relic of the True Cross, discovered in Jerusalem on August 5. Peter Tudebode, a member of the Norman contingent, refers to it as “the most precious Lance” (preciosissima lancea),66 indicating that the Lance was not to be exclusively the relic of the Provençals. We cannot provide a definitive answer to the question of the Lance’s whereabouts in the two and a half months between Peter Bartholomew’s death (20 April) and the battle of Ascalon. Why did it reappear at Ascalon and not during the siege of Jerusalem?
Allan V. Murray demonstrated that the True Cross was generally used in defensive campaigns and was not carried into offensive actions—primarily for practical reasons, to prevent its loss.67 This does not necessarily apply to the Lance, as an assault during a siege differs significantly from manoeuvres on foreign land. A more straightforward explanation might be that, with the discovery of the True Cross and its custody under Arnulf of Chocques, a member of the opposing faction, Raymond of Saint-Gilles and his followers believed the Lance had rested long enough. Possession of a relic also brought political benefits, making their utilisation part of the rivalry that Flori refers to as the querelle des reliques.68 The common ranks, such as Peter Tudebode, seem to have remained unaware of this power struggle.
The supposed dotation of Saint Andrew, or rather Peter Bartholomew, remained significant as Raymond of Saint-Gilles took the Lance with him when he left the Holy Land, first traveling to Latakia and then to Constantinople, regarding it as his personal possession.69 The relic was even mentioned during the 1101 campaign, carried by the Crusaders, and Matthew of Edessa highlights that “when people heard that he [Raymond] had the lance of Christ with him, they all excitedly followed him”.70 According to Caffaro, the relic was lost at the Battle of Mersivan in August 1101.71 Anselm of Gembloux, in 1123, also mentions the lance that pierced through the side of Christ (lanceam transfixam in latere Christi), carried by Pontius, Abbot of Cluny, alongside the Holy Cross, which was carried by the Patriarch of Jerusalem, although Giese rejects this possibility.72
The pilgrims’ faith in the Holy Lance may be further supported by a letter from Pope Paschal II, in which the Lance is mentioned,73 as well as the rich textual and visual arts tradition whose creators were undoubtedly aware of the controversies surrounding the relic’s authenticity yet still chose to incorporate it into their work.

3. Minor Relics

3.1. Adhemar’s Cross

A possible relic of the Cross was mentioned in the first part, specifically Adhemar’s Cross, which appeared as a relic intended to compensate for the Holy Lance within the Crusader camp; therefore, it is worth discussing further. Adhemar’s Cross is noted solely in the chronicle of Raymond of Aguilers among eyewitnesses, suggesting that it was known only within the Provençal contingent. In his earliest visions, Peter Bartholomew indicated that Saint Andrew questioned why Adhemar was not preaching and blessing them with the Cross he bore, as this would greatly benefit the Crusaders.74 Later, it is noted that Count Raymond had the Cross brought to the camp.
According to Jonathan Riley-Smith, Adhemar possessed a relic of the True Cross, which he may have brought from either Western Europe or Constantinople, although no source confirms this. In addition to Raymond of Aguilers, Riley-Smith cites the Anonymous Syriac Chronicle and two passages from the Chanson d’Antioche, in which he believes Adhemar’s cross is referenced. However, these are more likely general crosses, one on which Stephen of Valence swore an oath, or whose sign was put on their lances.75 The only valid argument for the existence of the relic may be that it was used to compensate for the loss of the Lance, but this could just as easily refer to the widely respected figure of the bishop himself. An argument against the relic status of Adhemar’s Cross is also the fact that there is no mention in later accounts. A plausible explanation might be that the Cross was carried by a higher-ranking cleric from the Provençal camp, such as Peter Desiderius76 or Peter, Bishop of Albara, and thus lost its previous designation; however, even Raymond’s chronicle does not mention it.

3.2. The Relics of Other Saints

Although their significance cannot be compared to that of the Holy Lance or the True Cross, for the sake of completeness, it is my duty to mention other relics that surfaced during the campaign. In relation to the visions of Peter Bartholomew, Raymond’s chronicle mentions the discovery of the fingers of Saint Andrew; however, neither he nor other sources mentions this later.77 Similarly, in the chronicle of Raymond of Aguilers, there is a brief passage describing a vision in which a figure appeared to Peter Desiderius, revealing that relics were located in the Church of Blessed Leontius.78 After they went there, Raymond of Aguilers continues as follows:
“We asked God, who made these relics holy, to assign them as our comrades and aids, and these saints, rather than scorning the fellowship of pilgrims and God’s exiles, out of Christian love would be bound to us and in turn would bind us to God”.79
Generally, the relics were considered the Crusaders’ comrades (consortes) and aids (coadiutores), binding them (coniungit) to God. This represents the most valuable extant definition of the importance of this kind of divine grace: a bond or a contract between God and the Army of God. For the lay participants of the pilgrimage, there was a need for a tangible, less abstract form of divine care—something that, in exchange for their hardships, provided them with divine artifacts to help them endure difficulties.80
Under the instruction of Peter Desiderius, they found the relics of Saint Cyprian, Saint Omechios, Blessed Leontius, and Saint John Chrysostom. Later, the author adds the vial of the blood of the Virgin Mary and the martyr Thecla. Firstly, it is important to note that these relics are no longer associated with Christ, which should not be surprising, as a transformation took place in the tenth and eleventh centuries, during which the veneration of saints gained significant prominence. The identifications of aforementioned persons have already been made in the commentary on Raymond’s chronicle by John H. Hill and Laurita H. Hill; therefore, I only address those saints and their relics where I can contribute to the discourse.81
Among the relics of the six sacred persons named by Raymond of Aguilers, not even one is mentioned by my other sources, and only two of their names appear elsewhere. The Gesta Francorum recounts that in the battle fought at Antioch on 28 June 1098, Christ sent Saints George, Mercurius, and Demetrius.82 Peter Tudebode adds that Christ had already promised Stephen of Valence the assistance of these three saints.83 The Gesta later reports that they reached the city of Ramla, where the body of Saint George rests, as he had suffered martyrdom there.84
In a letter dated January 1098, written by the Patriarch of Jerusalem, Simeon, and other Western bishops (et aliorum episcoporum ad occidentales), it is mentioned that the Crusaders were protected by Saints George, Theodore, Demetrius, and Blessed Blaise.85 If this was stated in the letter, it is likely that the Western bishops preached about the support of these saints, which could have spread among the pilgrims. Demetrius and Theodore were both important Byzantine military saints of the era, and their appearance in Latin sources is an indication of the connection between Adhemar and Patriarch Simeon. The appearance of Mercurius—another Byzantine military saint—mentioned in the Gesta Francorum suggests that the Italian Normans, among whom the Anonymous belonged, were already familiar with him and more readily adapted Byzantine saints. Lapina highlights that the borrowing of a saint was not merely an act of imitation but a powerful statement regarding the transfer of sanctity and divine support from the Byzantines to their rivals.86
Perhaps the impact of Simeon and the Western bishops’ letter on the laity can be seen in the other narrative sources, and the response to this demand for relics is articulated in Raymond’s chronicle. According to Riley-Smith, although these saints were all known and venerated in the West, the proportion with important cults in the East was high, and, as far as we know, this did not reflect the personal preferences of the Crusaders.87
However, it is peculiar that, apart from the body of Saint George, none of our sources mention any of the previously discovered relics, and later Raymond himself does not refer to them either. The relic of Saint George housed in the Church of Blessed Leontius also requires some explanation, as it was initially associated by the locals with Saint Mercurius, while others attributed it to different saints; consequently, the Crusaders did not take it with them. Peter Desiderius had another vision in which Saint George himself appeared, revealing that these were his relics.88
The identities of those who revealed the relics are also quite notable: Raymond of Aguilers, Raymond of Saint-Gilles, William, the Bishop of Orange, and Peter Desiderius were all members of the Provençal camp. It is possible that the long-trodden army, burdened by lengthy marches and exhausting sieges, needed a new “spiritual boost”, which they sought to achieve through the aforementioned relics. The relic with questionable connections is also of interest. Although our sources refer to Saint Mercurius, the relationship between Saint George and the Crusaders was much more deeply rooted. The Narratio quomodo relliquiae martyris Georgii ad nos Aquicinenses pervenerunt recounts an attempt by a priest named Gerbault to steal the arm of Saint George from a Syrian monastery, which was eventually transferred to Robert of Flanders.89 This event likely explains why Robert is referred to as the “son of Saint George” (fils saint Jorje) in the Chanson d’Antioche, and why Raymond’s chronicle also mentions a miracle in which “two handsome knights in flashing armor” fought on behalf of the Crusaders.90
Our other sources also report on the body of Saint George, which, with cautious speculation, may indicate that this sparked greater enthusiasm.91 It is possible that the Provençal camp sought to capitalise on this enthusiasm by claiming possession of a relic of Saint George. Supporting this theory is the fact that among the discovered relics, George was widely known in the West, where he was primarily regarded as a “martyr of the faith”, whereas in the East, as early as the seventh century he was venerated as a champion of the Empire.92

4. The Relic of the True Cross

After the Crusaders abandoned the siege of Arqa on 26 May 1099, they proceeded southward and, in accordance with the collective will, did not stop until they reached Jerusalem on 7 June. The city was captured by the Crusaders relatively swiftly on 15 July, despite the oppressive summer heat and a lack of water. Following a massacre, they advanced to the sacred sites and prayed, wept with joy, and offered thanks to the Lord. Around 4 August, the Crusaders were informed that Egyptian Grand Vizier Shah-an-Shah al-Afdal was marching on Jerusalem.93 Although this situation was not as dramatic as the previous year’s events in Antioch, the Crusaders faced a new and serious threat shortly after seizing the city. On 5 August, they discovered a relic of the True Cross in Jerusalem, which they carried with them into battle against the Egyptian forces. In the conflict near Ascalon on 12 August, the Crusaders secured a decisive victory, allowing the establishment of the Frankish Outremer. Later, the relic of the True Cross became the military artifact of the Kingdom of Jerusalem.94

Discovery of the True Cross and the Discord Among the Crusaders

The circumstances surrounding the discovery of the Cross are recounted differently by our sources, which Frolow also draws attention to.95 However, it is interesting to note that while both Raymond of Aguilers and Peter Tudebode report on the discovery, the Gesta Francorum does not mention it.96 This deliberate omission may have political motivations. Flori analysed the differences between the Gesta Francorum and Peter Tudebode’s chronicle, concluding that the Gesta deliberately omits numerous events from its narrative that would elevate the merits of the Provençal camp. Although the True Cross did not belong to Raymond of Saint-Gilles, it was likely omitted because Bohemond could not claim a relic of comparable veneration.97
If we expand our examination to non-eyewitness sources, we encounter various accounts regarding the circumstances of the relic’s discovery. According to one version, the relic was guarded by a local Christian who handed it over to the Crusaders. This is exemplified in the accounts of Albert of Aachen, William of Tyre, and Fulcher of Chartres who state that a Syrian gave the piece to the Crusaders.98 In contrast, Raymond of Aguilers identifies Arnulf of Chocques as the initiator of the relic’s retrieval.99
Regardless of whether the True Cross came into the possession of the Crusaders through a certain Syrian or under Arnulf’s influence, the timing was so masterful that it must be examined in detail the context in which this further example of the divine intervention occurred.
On the second day after the capture of Jerusalem, the leaders convened to select someone to rule over them (regnare super alios),100 and on July 23, Godfrey of Bouillon was chosen, though he did not assume the title of king.101 Raymond of Aguilers also commented on the notion of electing a king, but he encountered a dilemma. Before the capture of Jerusalem, Tancred raised his banner over the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, as if it were a mere secular possession, which provoked widespread discord within the army. A council was convened to resolve the issue, during which the future fate of Jerusalem was also discussed. At that time, the clergy disapproved of appointing a secular ruler to the place where the Lord had suffered and been crowned.102 Ultimately, the decision was made to appoint a secular leader, though the clergy initially advocated for the election of a church leader. Raymond’s chronicle also mentions divisions within the clergy.103
The election of the spiritual leader for the city took place later, on August 1, the reason for which Bernard Hamilton explains by noting that the Latins did not have enough experienced and trained clerics capable of administering a large area such as the Patriarchate of Jerusalem.104 Almost the same factions emerged as those seen during the trial of the Lance: on one side, the list of potential candidates included the Bishop of Martirano105 in southern Italy and Arnulf of Chocques, while others supported Peter, Bishop of Albara.106
Raymond writes that Arnulf, with the assistance of the Bishop of Martirano, became patriarch, a position for which he was not otherwise eligible as he was not even a subdeacon, was of clerical descent, and had been repeatedly accused of greed (incontinentia). He was so well known that pilgrims even composed songs about him.107 In contrast to Raymond, our other sources generally depict Arnulf as wise, respected, and eloquent, and report that he was unanimously elected.108 It is likely that Raymond, as the chronicler of the Provençal camp and the former bearer of the Holy Lance, still harboured resentment over the insults suffered by the Lance and the Provençal faction.
Despite his election, Arnulf’s status was far from unequivocal. Ian Robinson posits that Adhemar’s earlier position as legatus vicarius did not extend to the entirety of the army but was confined to the contingent of Raymond of Saint-Gilles. Following the realisation of Pope Urban II of the considerable interest surrounding his call, he conferred the authority of licentia ligandi atque solvendi upon the ecclesiastics accompanying the northern contingents—Alexander, Stephen of Blois’ chaplain, and Arnulf of Chocques.109
Moreover, the account of Ralph of Caen reveals that on his deathbed, Adhemar entrusted the oversight of the army to Arnulf of Chocques, referring to his virtues. However, it is prudent to approach the dynamics between Ralph and Arnulf with caution.110 With the departure of Alexander, alongside Stephen of Blois, from the Crusader camp,111 Arnulf remained the sole recipient of papal appointment.112
In the context of Raymond’s accusations, it is pertinent to reference Foreville’s investigation, which highlights that Normandy constituted an exception regarding clerical celibacy during this period, wherein members of noble families raised children who were subsequently integrated into various religious orders without issue. Furthermore, it is established that Arnulf later sought a dispensation from Pope Paschal II (1099–1118) to fulfil his episcopal duties despite his impediment by birth.113
Arnulf’s weak status and the potential illegitimacy of his election are supported by the fact that, at the end of December 1099, Daibert, Archbishop of Pisa and newly appointed papal legate, almost automatically assumed the patriarchal seat in Jerusalem, effectively displacing Arnulf as if his election had never occurred, with no opposition raised to the decision.114
In addition to the division within the clergy, another political struggle had to be considered: upon the conquest of Jerusalem, Raymond of Saint-Gilles captured the Tower of David, which led to a dispute between him and Godfrey. Raymond sought to resolve this conflict through negotiation and entrusted the tower to Peter, Bishop of Albara, pending a decision. However, Peter did not wait for the judgment and instead surrendered the tower to Godfrey. When Raymond accused the bishop of treason, Peter defended himself, claiming he had been coerced and subjected to violence, and secretly blaming Raymond’s men for the pressure.115 The seriousness of the situation is indicated by the fact that with the surrender of the tower, the strongest contingent seemed to be lost, as Raymond of Aguilers notes that Count Raymond, humiliated, only set out for the battle of Ascalon at the urging of his own soldiers, eventually deciding to leave the country as a result of this incident.116 Presumably, this discord is also reflected in the Gesta Francorum, which reports that upon hearing news of the enemy’s approach, Godfrey, Arnulf of Chocques, Bishop of Martirano, and Count Robert of Flanders withdrew from the city, while Raymond of Saint-Gilles and Robert of Normandy did not leave until a later summons.117 Albert of Aachen informs us that the relationship between Godfrey and Raymond deteriorated to the point where Godfrey entered Raymond’s camp armed, and Raymond, expecting a confrontation, prepared for battle.118
The internal conflicts within the army were extremely serious. The clergy was divided over Arnulf’s election, and the Crusaders split into two factions, one led by Godfrey of Bouillon and the other by Raymond of Saint-Gilles. A separate source of tension was Raymond’s dispute with Bishop of Albara. It should also not be overlooked that many pilgrims may have begun to prepare for their journey home as they fulfilled their vows.119 Amid this already tense situation came the news of Shah-an-Shah al-Afdal’s approaching forces, which placed the successes achieved thus far at risk. Nothing could have been more fortuitous in such circumstances than the emergence of a renowned relic such as the True Cross. While our sources do not elaborate on this, one must question why the Syrian townsman delayed for nearly three weeks before revealing the relic; perhaps he, too, was waiting for the right moment. This delay may possibly be explained by the fear among the Crusaders due to the massacre, but by 23 July, Godfrey had already been elected, suggesting that relative order must have prevailed in the city by that time.
Whether Arnulf prepared the relic or it appeared to the Crusaders, he knew precisely what action to take.120 Our sources confirm that as soon as the relic was uncovered, it was presented to the people, who rejoiced, and afterward it was taken to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where it was entrusted to the patriarch.121 Murray thus argues that Arnulf initiated the discovery of the relic.122 The revelation of such a precious relic at this moment could be interpreted as a sign of divine legitimation, far more significant than the mere approval of part of the crusading army. According to William of Tyre’s later account,
“Accompanied by the entire clergy and the people, they received it as a consolation sent from heaven, believing that they had received a just reward for their labours and sufferings”.123
It is plausible that Robert of Flanders and Raymond of Saint-Gilles, with the reappeared Holy Lance, participated in the Battle of Ascalon, inspired by this divine grace. The relic thus truly served as a reward (merces), capable of uniting this divided environment. If we are to believe Albert of Aachen, the relic’s motivating influence led the army to arm themselves for battle, “rejoicing in songs of exultation and all sweet music, with stringed instruments and bagpipes, as happy as if they were going to a feast”.124 Immediately before the battle, we observe a remarkably similar liturgy from the clergy, as seen in previous significant confrontations, such as the Battle of Antioch.125
In the case of the True Cross, we do not encounter any sceptics, as was the case with Bishop Adhemar. If there had been any doubts, the overwhelming victory would certainly have validated the authenticity of the fragment, much as the Lance’s authenticity was confirmed by its role in the Crusaders’ successes.126

5. Conclusions

Due to the fundamentally spiritual orientation of the campaign, the participants were exceptionally sensitive to their direct relationship with God, often interpreting their circumstances as divine reward or punishment. The relics served as both comrades and aids, binding the Crusaders to God and symbolising a reward for their labours and suffering. The fact that Peter Bartholomew, as the mouthpiece of Saint Andrew, spoke about Adhemar not preaching enough and failing to bless the people daily with the Cross he possessed suggests a demand for such practices among the circles in which Peter operated. It is likely that this group sought a much more direct, even visual or tangible expression of their religious zeal, which was perfectly embodied in the revelation of a relic directly associated with the Redeemer, communicated by a pilgrim who interacted with saints and Christ. Peter’s discovery of the relic of the Holy Lance had a positive impact on the army’s enthusiasm, and thanks to the accompanying liturgy, the Crusaders were able to triumph against overwhelming odds. However, the Lance, being clearly dedicated to Raymond of Saint-Gilles, raised doubts among others.
In the context of the campaign’s leadership, it is worthwhile to cite Voltmer, who emphasises in the case of the carroccio that this symbol served as an abstract, independent tool for expressing power and community, particularly in political systems where leadership was not tied to a single individual. The carroccio embodied continuity and unity, personifying the communal will and thus becoming a crucial element of collective identity and solidarity. For this reason, contemporaries might have regarded the appropriation of such a symbol by members of the nobility as a manifestation of presumption (manifestazione di presunzione) and disapproved of the ostentatious display of such political ambitions.127 A very similar judgment can be found in the work of Guibert of Nogent, where he asserts that God excluded kings from the campaign, ensuring that all glory belonged to Him. Guibert explains the misfortunes of Count Stephen of Blois and Hugh of Vermandois by stating that they attempted to lead God’s army alone.128 Although Guibert does not mention Raymond of Saint-Gilles, his contemporaries likely evaluated his political ambitions similarly: he sought to wield power through a relic universally received by the crusading army as a merces. As long as Raymond acted appropriately, it was no issue; however, when he delayed the continuation of the journey to Jerusalem, the pilgrims requested that he hand over the Lance. Ultimately, the close association between the relic and Raymond led to the Holy Lance trial, resulting in the relic—and, for a time, Raymond—being placed on the margins.
A considerable number of similarities can be observed between the discovery of the Holy Lance and that of the True Cross. In both cases, the relic emerged during a moral low point, which they were then able to transcend. As Gerish has demonstrated, the True Cross did not legitimise the power of either the king or the patriarch, as it was not conferred by one or the other but rather received as a reward by all those who laboured in God’s service.129 The fact that neither Arnulf nor Godfrey directly utilised the relic of the True Cross to advance their own legitimacy can likely be explained by their proper awareness of the visceral demands that may have moved the pilgrims at a fundamental level.
That the Holy Lance and the Holy Cross could emerge as the most prominent relics is not surprising, as they were universal symbols of Christianity, directly linked to Christ and the Passion. In contrast, the Cross of Adhemar, as well as the relics found in the church of Blessed Leontius, may have only commanded respect within the Provençal camp that discovered them, while the other chroniclers refused to heed the words of the visionaries.
The fact that the Cross ultimately became the most important military relic for the pilgrims and later for the Kingdom of Jerusalem can also be explained by its status as the most universal symbol in Christianity. Gaposchkin emphasises that the Cross became the central symbol of the Crusade because it embodied both militant and penitential aspects. It represented the power to defeat the enemy (the devil) while also serving as a sign of service, passion, and individual salvation. The symbol reflected a dialectical synthesis of opposing themes—victory and defeat, conquest and humiliation—central to Christianity. From the ninth to the twelfth centuries, devotion to the Cross shifted from a mystical and eschatological focus to one centred on personal devotion and Christ’s passion.130
In his study “The Reform Papacy and the Origin of the Crusades”, H.E. John Cowdrey notes that researchers examining the mentality of the Crusades must not overlook the fact that the popes lived among the relics of the Holy Land and Jerusalem in the Lateran Palace, thanks to Constantine and his mother. This is listed in the Descriptio ecclesiae Lateranensis, which dates from the end of the eleventh century.131 This is particularly relevant as Urban, during his recruitment journey, took some of these relics with him, which he could use to promote the fame of the Crusade and to enlist participants.132
Relics represented a constant and powerful reality for the popes.133 This reality permeated not only the thoughts of the popes but also those of the pilgrims, as evidenced by Frolow’s accounts, which provide numerous references to the existence of a relic of the True Cross in regions, particularly in France, from the tenth and eleventh centuries, from which we later document the presence of Crusaders.134 The intertwining of relics and the Crusades is clearly observable, especially when, following the success of the First Crusade, various relics from the Holy Land began to be used for recruitment purposes. In this context, we can cite a letter from Clementia, wife of Robert of Flanders, dated early October 1097, which testifies that the Crusaders had already begun collecting relics by the time they set out from home.135

Funding

The author is a member of the HUN–REN–DE: “The Military History of Medieval Hungary and Central Europe” Research Group. This project has received funding from the HUN-REN Hungarian Research Network.

Institutional Review Board Statement

Not applicable.

Informed Consent Statement

Not applicable.

Data Availability Statement

The original contributions presented in this study are included in the article. Further inquiries can be directed to the corresponding author.

Conflicts of Interest

The author declares no conflicts of interest.

Notes

1
2
3
4
5
6
See (Morris 1984; France 2006; Rogers 1992; Kostick 2015, pp. 134–49; Rubenstein 2011, pp. 156–262). Schein points out that the poor followed self-proclaimed charismatic leaders rather than princes (Schein 1991, p. 121).
7
He participated in the campaign as a chaplain to Robert II, Duke of Normandy. In the case of Arnulf, several name variations can be encountered. David presents the debate surrounding his place of origin and clarifies that he was born in the village of Chocques, located in the Diocese of Thérouanne (David 1920, p. 217).
8
(RA, pp. 49–50; GF, pp. 332–33).
9
(GF, pp. 335, 351–52; AA, pp. 298–300; FC, p. 247; RA, p. 76).
10
“excutere arma, et cibrare astas, nec posse pati quietem quin dictu vel opere aliquid iocundum facerent vel dicerent”.—(RA, p. 80) Translation: (Hill and Hill 1968, p. 62).
11
12
(GF, p. 337); Raymond previously reported on “dancing girls” who enchanted the knights, reflecting the presence of lust within the army (RA, p. 66). This observation is supported by the accounts of Stephen of Valence and Fulcher (FC, p. 243). Murray references the 1048 account of the Christian Arab physician Ibn Butlān, who reported that prostitutes were present in many rural districts around Antioch, with the regulation of prostitution being a primary responsibility of the Byzantine governor of Laodicea. Of course, the city of Antioch had been known to have brothels under Byzantine rule, and since it had been held by the Turks for only 13 years by the time the crusaders arrived, it is conceivable that some brothels were still in operation. Guibert of Nogent and Baldric of Dol, two non-eye-witness chroniclers, claim that military brothels were running within the crusader camp. However, Murray argues that both Guibert and Baldric were not specifically condemning brothels but were instead criticizing more general sexual transgressions (Murray 2012, pp. 264–65). On the question of prostitution, which also inspired Murray in writing his study, see: (Brundage 1985).
13
Raymond of Aguilers also described Stephen’s vision, with the Congregati sunt and the fifth day (RA, p. 73).
14
15
John xix. 33–34. In Christian tradition the name of the Roman Soldier, Longinus derived from the Greek word for a lance, λόγχη. (Morris 1984, p. 35). Despite Wolfgang Giese highlighting the inconsistency between the terminology used in scholarly literature (e.g., Heilige Lanze, Holy Lance, Sainte Lance) and the expressions in primary sources (lancea Domini, dominica lancea, lancea Jesu Christi), this study will adhere to the term Holy Lance (Giese 1988, p. 486).
16
“Nos igitur, auditis sermonibus illius, qui nobis Christi revelationem retulit per verba apostoli, statim festinantes pervenimus ad locum in Sancti Petri ecclesia, quem ille demonstraverat. Et foderunt ibi XIII homines a mane usque ad vesperam: sicque homo ille invenit lanceam, sicut indicaverat, et acceperunt illam cum magno gaudio et timore…”—(GF, pp. 362–63).
17
18
19
Rubenstein points out this supposed consciousness (Rubenstein 2011, p. 218).
20
“…futque orta immense Laetitia in tota urbe. Ab illa hora accepimus inter nos consilium belli”.—(GF, p. 363; RA, p. 75; AA, p. 316); Anselm of Ribemont’s second letter to Manasses II, archbishop of Reims (Hagenmeyer 1901, p. 160)
21
(PT, p. 108). Kyrie eleison or latin Domine, miserere is a part of the confiteor, the Penitential Act in Western-Europe.
22
Although Thomas Asbridge’s thorough analysis points out that the two-week gap between the discovery of the Lance and the decisive battle does not provide conclusive evidence of the Lance’s spiritual reinforcement having a catalytic effect, he acknowledges at the end of his analysis that it had a significant impact on the army. This might be related to the Crusaders’ realization of their desperate situation and the failure of their earlier embassy, leading them to choose the only possible solution: a breakout. Nonetheless, it is undeniable that the reception of the relic was unanimously positive across different contemporary sources and authors. (Asbridge 2006). The key issue in his analysis is this two-week interval. He argues that “during the summer of 1098, the formation of a shared and agreed memory of what had happened that June seems to have begun to take hold, eventually enshrining the transformative effect of the Lance’s discovery” (Asbridge 2006, p. 22).
23
On Bohemond’s negotiations and his claims to the city, see (GF, pp. 293–300).
24
After the capture of the city, Hugh of Vermandois was sent as an envoy to Alexios. According to the Gesta Francorum, Hugh’s task was to ask Alexios to come and take possession of the city and to fulfill the agreements he had made with them (ut ad recipiendam civitatem veniret et conventiones, quas erga illos habebat, expleret—GF, p. 382). These conventiones were broken by the emperor’s failure to relieve the Crusaders.
25
With the oath of the Crusader princes, the emperor assumed the obligation to supply and care for the army (Lilie 1981, pp. 34–35).
26
27
“non fuit ibi unus solus dominus umquam, sed magis episcopo credunt”—(RA, p. 73).
28
(RA, p. 83). Richard states that Adhemar’s death elevated Count Raymond to the position of supreme commander of the army (Richard 1960, pp. 52–53).
29
30
…quod dominus papa Urbanus apud Barum tenet concilium, tractans et disponens cum multis terrae senatoribus ad Ierusalem profecto tendere. (Hagenmeyer 1901, p. 167). Urban’s plans about the Holy Land see (Cowdrey 1995, 1997).
31
Porges attributes the departure of the army to the lower clergy (Porges 1946, p. 16; Morris 1984, p. 34). Delaruelle underlines the popular character of the lower clergy. (Delaruelle 1962, pp. 166–67).
32
(RA, p. 99).
33
(RA, p. 75). Richard notes that, following Adhemar’s death, Raymond of Saint-Gilles effectively became the leader, and almost the sole leader, of the Crusade in 1099 (Richard 1960, pp. 52–53). In addition to this prominent status, it is noteworthy that in Raymond’s Chronicle, Saint George is similarly referred to as the vexillifer exercitus (RA, p. 133).
34
Peter of Narbonne, who was elected bishop by Raymond of Saint-Gilles in consultation with his chaplains, according to Raymond of Aguilers. (RA, pp. 90–92). Peter Tudebode adds that Peter was taken to Antioch, where he was consecrated by the Orthodox Patriarch and then “held discussions, succeeding Adhemar, the Bishop of Le Puy”. (PT, p. 117). Richard interprets this as evidence of Raymond of Saint-Gilles’s pro-Greek stance (Richard 1946, p. 105). Regarding the bishopric election, Hamilton draws attention to two points: the lack of awareness of the 1054 Schism and the fact that the Franks appointed clerics to organize the administration according to the conditions at home (Hamilton 2016, pp. 9–11; Cowdrey 1997, pp. 65–69).
35
See Note 32.
36
About the halt of the campaign and the dispute between the leaders see (France 1970, pp. 289–95).
37
(AA, p. 372; RA, p. 75).
38
39
(RA, p. 101; Schein 1991, p. 129).
40
(RA, pp. 130–31; AA, p. 386; Ónadi 2024, pp. 21–22; Kostick 2012, p. 30).
41
“Atque sic per huiusmodi discordias et sediciones res pauperum anullate sunt”.—(RA, p. 88).
42
43
44
(RA, p. 78).
45
46
47
48
Among those present, only Raymond of Aguilers mentions the bishop’s doubts (RA, p. 72), followed later by Fulcher of Chartres (FC, pp. 236–37). (France 2006, p. 10). According to Holdsworth, it was more common for laypeople to experience visions, as they typically understood spirituality in visual terms (Holdsworth 1963, pp. 142–43).
49
See (Runciman 1950, pp. 199–200); Morris highlights the letter of Alexios, in which he lists the relics preserved in Constantinople but does not mention the relic of the Holy Lance (Morris 1984, p. 35; Hagenmeyer 1901, p. 134). For the issues raised by the letter of Alexios, see: (de Waha 1977; Joranson 1950).
50
51
52
See (Morris 1984, pp. 44–45). For the visions related to Adhemar, see: (Kostick 2009).
53
54
55
See (Ibn-al-Aṯīr 2010, vol. 2, p. 17); Ralph of Caen in: (RHC OC 1895, vol. 5: p. 677) [hereinafter CR].
56
Giese, in discussing the controversies within the army, emphasizes that these events inspired Peter Bartholomew to “fall into a visionary dream” (in Traumgesichte fallen zu lassen) (Giese 1988, p. 490).
57
58
For details of the trial see (RA, pp. 116–22; Kostick 2012, pp. 35–40).
59
60
CR 682.
61
“inspirati Sancto Spiritu, quo inflammati tot labores graviter susceperant, decernunt quatinus imago Salvatoris auro ex purissimo efficiatur; ad cujus exprimendam figuram omnis populus, secundum quod unusquisque voluerit, aurum, vel argentum, vel gemmas, vel aliud quid, quod operi ipsi necessarium fuerit, offerat”.—Historia peregrinorum euntium Jerusolymam In (RHC OC 1866, vol. 3: p. 216; Riley-Smith 2003, p. 97).
62
(RA, pp. 127–28).
63
(RA, p. 130) Translation: (Hill and Hill 1968, p. 110).
64
65
66
(PT, p. 145)
67
68
69
In connection with the case, Runciman notes that, since there was already a relic believed to be the true Holy Lance in the city, this might explain why Anna Comnena wrote in her Alexiad that Raymond of Saint-Gilles had the Holy Nail (AC, p. 314). “There could only be one Holy Lance, but there could be several Holy Nails; and Constantinople did not claim to possess them all.” (Runciman 1950, pp. 202–3).
70
Cafari de Caschifelone, De liberatione civitatum orientis liber in (RHC OC 1895, vol. 5: p. 58). [hereinafter: Caffaro]; (AA, p. 604; Matthew of Edessa, p. 184).
71
Caffaro, p. 58.
72
Anselm of Gembloux, ’Continuatio Sigeberti Gemblacensis’ In (Pertz 1843, p. 379; Giese 1988, p. 491).
73
74
(RA, p. 69).
75
See (Riley-Smith 2003, p. 93; La Chanson d’Antioche, p. 460; Tritton and Gibb 1933, p. 72; RA, pp. 69, 127–28, 130).
76
Isoard, Count of Die’s chaplain, who supported the authenticity of the relic in relation to the Lance-trial (RA, p. 97).
77
(RA, p. 90).
78
(RA, p. 131).
79
“Obtulimus candelas et vota Deo et sanctis eiusdem ecclesie, ut Deus omnipotens qui eos sanctificaverat nobis eos consortes et coadiutores donaret. Et illi sancti peregrinorum et exulum pro Deo non spernerent consorcium, sed magis ex caritate nobis coniungerentur, et nos Deo coniungerent”.—(RA, p. 132). Translation: (Hill and Hill 1968, p. 111).
80
(RA, pp. 133–34).
81
For details, see (RA, pp. 132–34).
82
(GF, pp. 374–75).
83
(PT, p. 112).
84
(GF, pp. 445–47).
85
86
87
88
See Note 80.
89
Narratio quomodo relliquiae martyris Georgii ad nos Aquicinenses pervenerunt in (RHC OC 1895, vol. 5: pp. 248–51).
90
(La Chanson d’Antioche, vol. 1, p. 304.; RA, pp. 45–6.); Subsequently, they were identified as Saint George and Demetrius. (Bartolf of Nangis in (RHC OC 1866, vol. 3: p. 496); Historia peregrinorum in (RHC OC 1866, vol. 3: p. 17; Lapina 2015, pp. 56–57).
91
(GF, pp. 445–47.; FC, p. 277.; PT, pp. 133–34).
92
93
See (Hagenmeyer 1902, p. 258; GF, pp. 485–86). Ibn-al-Aṯīr attributes the cause of this to the conduct of the Franks in Jerusalem. The chronicler extensively lists the valuable items the Franks looted from the temples, as well as the number of people they killed or enslaved (Ibn-al-Aṯīr 2010, vol. 2, p. 22).
94
The military importance of the relic see: (Murray 1998).
95
96
(RA, p. 154.; PT, p. 145).
97
98
(AA, pp. 450–52); “…quam quidem particulam in modum crucis reformatam, aurea partim et argentea fabrica contectam”.—(FC, p. 310; WT, p. 425).
99
(RA, p. 154.) Although Ekkehard of Aura was not present, he wrote about his pilgrimage to Jerusalem in 1101, stating that Syrians had shown the relic to Duke Godfrey (EA, pp. 263–64).
100
(GF, p. 476).
101
According to Fulcher, Godfrey did not want a crown (FC, p. 385). Hiestand, on the other hand, explains the absence of a royal title by pointing out that there was no ecclesiastical authority present to sanction the establishment of a new kingdom. (Hiestand 1972, vol. 1, p. 93). Riley-Smith points out that the often-cited title Advocatus Sancti Sepulchri appears only once in reference to Godfrey, in a letter written by Daibert to the new pope in the autumn of 1099 (Riley-Smith 1979, p. 84; Daibert’s letter: Hagenmeyer 1901, pp. 167–73). Murray highlights that eyewitness chroniclers generally refer to Godfrey as princeps, who is the ruler of the regnum Christi (Murray 2000, p. 70). Rowe also argues that this was a gesture of piety, while the title implied full royal dignity (Rowe 1957, p. 475).
102
(RA, p. 143). In contrast, Albert writes that the citizens of Bethlehem themselves requested the Crusaders to enter the city to protect the Christian population (AA, pp. 398–400).
103
(RA, p. 129). The former patriarch, Simeon, who had fled to Cyprus, died around this time. Bernard Hamilton points out that it is far from certain whether the crusaders were aware of Simeon’s death when they chose a new leader, which suggests that they did not believe an Orthodox patriarch should be guiding the Latin faithful (Hamilton 2016, p. 12).
104
105
A supporter of Arnulf of Chocques, who is described by Raymond of Aguilers as having illegitimately assumed the title of Bishop of Bethlehem (RA, p. 152). See details (Murray 2008, pp. 68–69).
106
(RA, p. 152).
107
(RA, p. 154).
108
(GF, pp. 477–480; AA, pp. 452–54). The letter from Manasses, Archbishop of Reims, to Bishop Lambert of Arras: (Hagenmeyer 1901, pp. 175–76).
109
See (Robinson 1990, pp. 351–52; Mayer 1960, pp. 550–51). This is supported by the fact that Adhemar consistently camped near Raymond of Saint-Gilles, they assaulted the same section of the fortifications, and marched together. Becker identifies Adhemar as the Armeebischof, while placing Arnulf and Alexander under his authority, given that Adhemar acted on behalf of the pope and authored two letters to the faithful in the West (Becker 1988, p. 429). Richard highlights that Arnulf almost naturally assumed the role of Patriarch of Jerusalem (Richard 1960, pp. 54–55).
110
CR p. 673. Later, Arnulf argued that he had been elected as the pope’s representative (CR p. 699). Arnulf was also the tutor of Ralph and participated in the preparation of the final version of the Gesta Tancredi (CR, p. 604).
111
112
113
114
Ralph of Caen emphasizes Bohemond’s support and notes that Arnulf voluntarily relinquished the patriarchal seat (CR p. 704). William argues that there was no patriarch because Arnulf’s election was invalid (WT, p. 440).
115
(RA, p. 153).
116
Ibid.
117
(GF, pp. 486–87; AA, p. 456).
118
Godfrey advanced against the city of Ascalon; however, Raymond of Saint-Gilles—according to Albert’s account—persuaded the defenders to not surrender the city, as all their princes had resolved to return to their homeland once the war was over. Albert further expanded Raymond’s list of offenses by claiming that it was his persuasion that caused the other princes to leave the camp. Ultimately, in his failure, Godfrey abandoned the siege of Ascalon and marched against Arsuf, where Raymond again urged the defenders to persevere (AA, p. 472). Hill and Hill argue in favour of Albert’s bias toward Godfrey, adding that it is likely the city’s defenders had heard that only those whose safety was guaranteed by Raymond survived the siege of Jerusalem (Hill 1962, p. 138). The author of the Damascus Chronicle, Ibn-al-Qalānisī, does not mention Raymond’s conspiracy but does refer to a dispute: according to his account, the princes were unable to agree on the amount of the tribute they demanded from the city of Ascalon, and they quarrelled to the extent that ultimately, they received nothing (Ibn-al-Qalānisī 2002, p. 49).
119
120
Frolow cautiously states that Arnulf’s discovery was timely for practical reasons, as it could reinforce his legitimacy. Additionally, he refers to the case of the Holy Lance, which bolstered the morale of the crusaders (Frolow 1961, p. 287). Murray noted, “just as in the case of the Holy Lance at Antioch, the True Cross was a case of the right relic at the right time”. (Murray 1998, p. 221).
121
(RA, p. 154; PT, p. 145; FC, pp. 309–10; WT, p. 425).
122
123
“…prosequente eam universo clero et populo, consolationem quasi de celo missam omnes in commune acceperunt, arbitrantes se laborum et molestiarum suarum mercedem condignam recepisse”.—(WT, p. 425).
124
(AA, p. 458).
125
126
Murray’s investigations reveal that by August 1105, the True Cross had been associated with four significant victories against numerically superior Fatimid forces (Murray 1998, p. 221).
127
128
(GN, p. 328).
129
130
131
132
133
134
135

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