Walter Sans-Avoir continued his march through the forests of Bulgaria until he reached a town then known as Stralicia, which was probably Sofia.
The governor was kindly disposed to him and agreed to furnish a market where goods could be purchased at a fair price. When they set off for Constantinople he gave them guides, after keeping them in the town until messengers had been sent to the emperor to warn him of their coming. The emperor was surprised; he had been in correspondence with the princes and thought the Crusaders would be entering Byzantine territory in the autumn. He seems to have known nothing whatsoever about Peter the Hermit's army of poor folk, but with his usual courtesy he received Walter Sans-Avoir in Constantinople. He offered the Crusaders lodgings and a marketplace outside the city walls. He learned that Peter the Hermit would soon be arriving with the main army. He may have realized that the Crusade would not have the character he envisioned. If vast numbers of poor, unarmed, or insufficiently armed people were coming to Constantinople on their way to Jerusalem, then it was incumbent on him to take precautions. Above all, he could not permit them to enter the city or to establish any power base in the city or in the neighborhood.
Peter the Hermit's army set out from Cologne about ten days after the vanguard left. This vast, unwieldy army, soon to be augmented by Swabians and Bavarians, reached the frontiers of Hungary without incident, and once again King Coloman received the soldiers graciously. Peter the Hermit gave orders that there should be no pillage, and there was none until the Crusaders reached Semlin, where they found the arms of their friends hanging like trophies on the walls. Incensed, and perhaps believing that many of Walter Sans-Avoir's men had been killed and that these trophies were deliberate provocations, they rioted. The riot turned into a pitched battle, in which the Hungarians were defeated. This was the first big battle waged by the Crusaders. Ironically it was fought between Christians. About four thousand Hungarians were killed, and the chroniclers claimed that the Crusaders lost only a hundred men. Peter the Hermit may have known nothing about this massacre for many days, because he was with an advance column that had already entered Byzantine territory.
By this time he seems to have lost control of the army, which moved by its own momentum. He might give orders that the army should pay for everything it took from the countryside, but his orders were rarely obeyed. It had become a river in flood, sweeping away everything in its path. When the people of Belgrade saw the army coming, they fled to the mountains. The Crusaders, feeling that the city had been abandoned to them, set fire to it. Then they set off for Nish, reaching it after a grueling seven-day march through the forests.
The emperor had established a large garrison at Nish, which was therefore capable of defending itself. Once more Peter the Hermit asked for provisions, which were provided, and for guides, which seem also to have been provided. The governor, however, was wary and asked for hostages against their promise of good conduct. Peter the Hermit gave the hostages.
There appeared to be complete agreement between Peter and the governor, and no further incidents were expected. The Crusaders marched on, Peter riding on a donkey at the head of the army.
But the worst of all incidents was about to happen. There were some unruly Germans in the rear guard, and it amused them to set fire to some country houses outside the walls of Nish and to some water mills situated on the banks of the river. The governor was shocked and angry. He decided to teach them a lesson, and ordered his well-trained soldiers to attack Peter's rear guard, capture the incendiaries, and take more hostages. Those captured were put to death. Then matters got out of hand. Innocent people perished; baggage trains were seized; women, girls, boys, and old people, who could not keep up with the rest of the army, were arrested, yoked together, and led into captivity. The governor, usually calm and intelligent, overreacted and permitted his soldiers to harass the rear guard unmercifully. The massacre only came to an end when Peter the Hermit, hearing that something terrible had happened, rode back in search of Byzantine officers who would be able to explain the situation to him.
Peter learned that the people who had been attacked were not entirely innocent. They had provoked the Byzantines. The townspeople of Nish had rushed to aid the Byzantines in the massacre. Their pent-up hatred for Peter's army exploded. In the fighting, about ten thousand of Peter's men were killed or led away into captivity by the enraged Byzantines. For three days the fighting continued. Peter saw his army disintegrating. There was little he could do but wait out the crisis. Gradually he was able to restore order. He established his camp on a hill at some distance from Nish and sent out heralds to seek out the broken remnants of his army. He was in such a state of despair that he talked of giving up the expedition altogether.
Then, help came from an unexpected quarter. A messenger from the emperor arrived at his camp with good news. Standing in the midst of the exhausted leaders of the expedition, the messenger read from an imperial rescript;
Noble and illustrious men, a rumor has reached our ears that serious charges of an unsavory nature have been brought against you. They say you have done great violence to the people of our land who are our subjects, and that you have stirred up quarrels and disturbances. Therefore, if you ever hope to find favor in the sight of our majesty, we enjoin upon you, by our authority, that you do not presume to remain in any of our cities for more than three days, and that you will lead your expedition as quickly as possible to Constantinople with steady and harmonious leadership. We shall give you guides and we will cause you to be furnished with the necessary food at a just price.
The olive branch from the emperor came at exactly the right moment. Peter gladly accepted the invitation, and the ragged army set off for Constantinople in good heart. Money was given to him, for he had lost the baggage carts that contained his treasury; mules and horses were provided; and in all the towns they passed through they were given food. The emperor's generosity continued until at last the army reached Constantinople on or about August 1, 1096. Walter Sans-Avoir had arrived in the city two weeks earlier.
When Peter was received in audience by the emperor, he was voluble in his gratitude and convincing in his description of the trials he had passed through at the hands of the Turks when he was living in Jerusalem some years earlier. He said that a divine voice had urged him to bring a vast army to the Holy Land, and he had returned to France to organize a Crusade which would save the Church of the Holy Sepulchre for Christians. Impressed by his speech and his manner, the emperor gave him splendid gifts. Peter wanted to march against the Turks immediately. The emperor suggested that it would be wiser for him to remain in camp until the coming of the army of the princes, but Peter was determined. Five days later, at Peter's request, the remnant of the once great army of poor folk, now numbering less than thirty thousand men, women, and children, was ferried across the Bosphorus.
They pitched camp in a small place called Helenopolis. There they rested for a few days, recuperating from their adventures and receiving gifts of food from the emperor. According to William of Tyre, the emperor's bounty was so great that they were incited to arrogance by their well-being. Against the emperor's repeated warnings, they insisted on going to war against the Turks, although they were ill prepared, knew nothing about fighting the Turks and nothing about the geography of Asia Minor.
The army of the poor was not the elite army of knights the emperor had called for. Though he half-admired Peter the Hermit, he had no confidence in his leadership nor any hope that his unruly, cantankerous, pathetic soldiers would amount to anything. Integrated into the army of the princes they might serve as laborers, scouts, water-carriers, or grooms, but they were not a fighting force.
Near Helenopolis was a fortified camp formerly occupied by English mercenaries. The Greeks called it Cibotos, the Franks called it Civetot. Here the army rested and debated the coming offensive against the Turks, and when Peter the Hermit explained that this was not to be contemplated until the great army of the princes crossed the Bosphorus, they simply disregarded him and relieved him of his authority. There were some Germans and Italians in the army of the poor, and they elected a certain Rainald to be their leader, while Geoffrey Burel, who had been Peter's chief military adviser, was elected leader of the Franks. Peter was relegated to the
position of ambassador to the court of Byzantium and charged with obtaining as much assistance as possible for the Crusaders.
The savage momentum of the army of the poor survived its transplantation to the shores of Asia. In their restlessness they began to attack surrounding Christian villages, murdering and plundering; then they advanced farther and attacked the villages within the Turkish frontier, which were also inhabited by Christians. All their plunder was sold to Greek sailors at Civetot; all their success was at the expense of defenseless villagers who shared their own faith.
Thus emboldened, the Franks decided to attack Nicaea, the capital of the Seljuk Sultan Kilij Arslan. They plundered the villages around Nicaea, drove off huge herds of sheep and cattle, caroused and murdered as they pleased. Anna Comnena wrote that they had the unpleasant habit of impaling babies on wooden spits and roasting them over a fire. There is no doubt that they were merciless. But Nicaea was a very large walled city with huge defensive towers, a large garrison, capable commanders. A Turkish column raced out of the city and there was a pitched battle. The Franks were able to flee from the battlefield with much of their booty, and if they had not conquered Nicaea, they had acquired the wealth of many villages.
Then it was the turn of the Germans and Italians under Rainald, about six thousand men, who imagined they would do even better. They marched beyond Nicaea to a fortress called Xerigordon, which was captured without any difficulty because it was undefended. Here they found all the provisions they could wish for. They would have been well advised to take the stores and hurry back to Civetot. Instead, they remained in the castle, enjoying their good fortune. Then, on September 21, 1096, the Turks arrived in force, surrounded the castle, and conquered it eight days later, massacring all those who refused to abjure their Christian faith. The unknown author of the
Gesta Francorum
describes the horrors of the siege:
The Turks then invested the castle and cut off the water supply.
Our men were terribly afflicted by thirst. They bled their horses and asses to drink the blood. Some let their belts and handker-chiefs down into a cistern, and squeezed the liquid into their mouths, while others urinated into their fellows' cupped hands and drank. Still others dug up the moist earth and lay down on their backs and spread the earth over their breasts, being so dry with thirst. The bishops and priests encouraged our men and admonished them not to despair. . . .
Then the commander of the Germans agreed to betray his companions to the Turks. Pretending to go out in order to fight them, he fled to them with many of his men. The remainder were put to death unless they were willing to betray God. Others, who had been captured alive, were divided among them, like sheep;
and there were some who were put up as targets and shot with arrows, and still others they sold or gave away, like animals. And they took their prisoners to their own homes, to Khorasan, Antioch, or Aleppo, wherever they lived.
These men were the first to endure blessed martyrdom in the name of the Lord Jesus.
The army of the poor had suffered many disasters, but this was the worst. There remained one more disaster, and then the army would be destroyed forever as a fighting force.
At Civetot the leaders of the army burned to avenge the disaster at Xerigordon. Peter was in Constantinople, and in any case he was powerless to influence any of the leaders. Geoffrey Burel had taken command, and it was on his advice that the Crusaders marched out against the enemy. There were about twenty thousand troops. The old men, women, and children were left behind at Civetot. They marched in six columns, with standards flying and trumpets blaring, making a good deal of noise, on their way to Nicaea, where they hoped to provoke the enemy into a pitched battle. It was early in the morning, and they were of good heart.
Three miles from Civetot, the road to Nicaea entered a narrow wooded valley, where the Turks had posted scouts and were able to watch the progress of the army. Behind the scouts, in the plain beyond the valley, the Turkish army was waiting. By coincidence the Turks had decided on this day to attack Civetot and to destroy the camp and everyone in it, and they were overjoyed to see the Christians marching through the valley like lambs to the slaughter. They waited until the cavalry emerged from the valley. Then, their bowmen sent a shower of arrows into their midst. Many of the riders and many of the horses were maimed or killed, while the rest tried to flee back to Civetot. But there was no space to move in; the onward-marching infantry collided with the retreating cavalry, and the Turks, who enjoyed ambushes, raced through the woods and massacred the Christians with the greatest ease. Some fugitives reached Civetot with the Turks hard on their heels. Only about two hours had passed since the Christian army set out, and it was still early morning. A priest was celebrating mass; the Turks killed him on the altar. Some old men were still asleep in their beds. The Turks overturned the tents and went on killing, sparing only boys and girls with pleasing features who could be sold profitably into slavery. Walter Sans-Avoir was killed: seven arrows were found embedded in his body. Albert of Aix records that the Turks suffered many casualties, but this seems unlikely. The Christian army panicked from the first moment of the battle, and a panicking army inflicts few casualties.
Some Christian soldiers were able to hide in the forests and mountains. About three thousand of them reached a nearby fortress on the seashore. This ancient fortress, long since abandoned, without roof or gateway,
served them well, for they were able to build a gate by throwing up rubble and stones and stout leather shields to prevent the enemy from coming in. They had slingshots, bows, and lances, and they fought desperately. The Turks had their own way of dealing with a situation like this. Since the fortress had no roof, they fired heavy arrows into the air and these arrows had the effect of knives hurtling down on the defenders. Many Christians were killed but the greater number of them survived.