An Empire of Memory (39 page)

degenerari, sed virtutis priorum vestrorum reminiscimini.’ Robert, Historia, 728. English tr. from

The First Crusade: The Chronicle of Fulcher of Chartres and Other Source Materials, ed. Edward Peters, 2nd edn. (Philadelphia, 1998), 27.

39 Ekkehard of Aura, Chronica: Recensio I, in Frutolf und Ekkehards Chroniken und die Anonyme

Kaiserchronik, ed. Franz-Josef Schmale and Irene Schmale-Ott (Darmstadt, 1972), 144; also in the

later 12th-cent. idem, Hierosolymita, RHC Occ 5: 19. Ralph of Caen, Gesta Tancredi in expeditione

Hierosolymitana, RHC Occ 3: 633.

40 See Jonathan Riley-Smith, The First Crusaders: 1095–1131 (Cambridge, 1997), 64–5. But cf.

Étienne Delaruelle, ‘Essai sur la formation de l’idée de Croisade’, in André Vauchez and Jean Richard

(eds.), L’Idée de croisade au Moyen Âge (Turin, 1980), 3–19; Paul Alphandéry and Alphonse Dupront, La

Chrétienté et l’idée de croisade, 2 vols. (Paris, 1954), i. 51–2; Barton Sholod, ‘Charlemagne: Symbolic Link between the Eighth and Eleventh Century Crusades’, in Studies in Honor of M. J. Bernadete (New York,

1965), 33–46; and Paul Rousset, Les Origines et les caractéres de la Premiére Croisade (New York, 1978), 41.

41 Hannes Möhring, ‘Benzo von Alba und die Entstehung des Kreuzzugsgedankens’, in Karl

Borchardt and Enno Bunz (eds.), Forschungen zur Reichs-, Papst- und Landesgeschichte: Peter Herde

zum 65. Geburtstag von Freunden, Schülern und Kollegen dargebracht (Stuttgart, 1998), 177–86; idem,

The Franks Return to the Holy Land

141

was conceptualized as a collective endeavor, the crusaders identified themselves

more with the ‘Franks’ than with a specific legendary ruler. Indeed, Michel Balard

(perhaps problematically) using the PL editions, has found that the terms ‘Franks’

or ‘Frankish’ appear consistently in the accounts of eyewitnesses but are even more

prevalent in the second-generation of crusade chroniclers.42 Following from this

logic, the historiographic consensus holds that this language came with the crusade.

Searching for a label to explain the perceived unity among such disparate groups,

the appellation ‘Frank’ gained general currency after the First Crusade because the

term––meaning any ‘body composed of various ethnic groups . . . [as] a label for the

whole of this body’––was appropriated from the Byzantines and Muslims, who had

long called all Westerners ‘Franks’.43

But, given how Frankish identity was understood in other ninth-, tenth-, and

eleventh-century sources––how a collective Frankish identity seems to have sur-

vived throughout the eleventh-century West––does this conclusion still hold water?

Was there a language of Frankishness implicit in the call put out by Urban II

(1088–99) in 1095? Can that help us to explain why papal calls to holy war went

out three times in the eleventh century but only this one translated ideas into

action, resulting in an army marching eastwards towards Jerusalem?

In 1009, the Fatimid Caliph al-Hakim ordered the destruction of the Holy

Sepulcher in Jerusalem and began persecuting Christians throughout his realm.

The Latin chroniclers who recorded the event spoke of portents in the heavens

similar to those found in the book of Revelation, implied that al-Hakim was

the antichrist, and noted the first violent persecution of Jewish communities in

the West. Sometime shortly thereafter, Pope Sergius IV (1009–12) responded

to the destruction of the Holy Sepulcher by issuing a call for Western Christians

to take up arms and travel to Jerusalem.44 Alexander Gieysztor, writing shortly after

Der Weltkaiser der Endzeit: Entstehung, Wandel und Wirkung einer tausendjährigen Weissagung

(Stuttgart, 2000), 157, 165–7; and Jean Flori, La Guerre sainte: La Formation de l’idée de croisade

dans l’Occident chrétien (Paris, 2001), 30–3, 152–8, 228, 313.

42 Marcus Bull, ‘Overlapping and Competing Identities in the Frankish First Crusade’, in Concile

de Clermont de 1095 et l’appel à Croisade: Actes du Colloque Universitaire International de Clermont-

Ferrand (23–5 Juin 1995) organisé et publié avec le concours du Conseil Régional d’Auvergne (Rome,

1997), 195–211; Michel Balard, ‘Gesta Dei per Francos: L’Usage du mot “Francs” dans les chroniques

de la première Croisade’, in Michel Rouche (ed.), Clovis, histoire et mémoire (Paris, 1997), 473–84. On the reworking of the narrative of the First Crusade among these second-generation historians, see

Jonathan Riley-Smith, The First Crusade and the Idea of Crusading (Philadelphia, 1986), 135–52; and

now Jay Rubenstein, The First Crusade and the End of Time, forthcoming. My thanks to Jay for letting

me see several chapters of his work in draft form.

43 See, for instance, Alan V. Murray, ‘Questions of Nationality in the First Crusade’, Medieval History, 1 (1991), 64; Bernd Schneidmüller, Nomen Patriae: Die Entstehung Frankreichs in der politisch-geographischen Terminologie (10–13. Jahrhundert) (Sigmaringen, 1987), 106–24; and Robert Bartlett,

The Making of Europe: Conquest, Colonization and Cultural Change, 950–1350 (London, 1994), 101–5,

quotation at 102. This assessment of what language the Byzantines and Muslims used to describe

Westerners is due for revisitation.

44 On apocalyptic interpretations of the event, see Daniel F. Callahan, ‘The Cross, the Jews, and the

Destruction of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in the Writings of Ademar of Chabannes’, in

Michael Frassetto (ed.), Christian Attitudes Toward the Jews in the Middle Ages: A Casebook (New York, 142

The Franks Recreate Empire

the Second World War, cast doubt on the document’s authenticity, arguing that it

originated at the abbey of Moissac in Aquitaine, created during Urban II’s preach-

ing tour of Francia in 1095–6. Gieysztor’s analysis has been followed by virtually

every crusade historian since. John France, for example, has argued that the

destruction of the Holy Sepulcher in the early eleventh century quickly ‘passed

out of human memory’ in the West.45

We must reassess this conclusion. In the 1930s, Carl Erdmann did excellent

work to contextualize Sergius’ encyclical within a larger field of papal-Italian actions

against the Muslims of North Africa, Sicily, Sardinia, and southern Francia. More

recently, Hans Martin Schaller has rebutted Gieysztor point-by-point to show the

document’s authenticity, and Herbert Kessler and Johanna Zacharias have dis-

cussed Sergius’ commission of a series of frescos for St Paul’s Outside the Walls in

Rome. The scenes of Gethsemane, Christ bearing the Cross, the Deposition, and

the Marys at the Tomb all show the importance Sergius seems to have placed on the

service Christians owed to Jesus and thus illustrate Sergius’ language of service to

Christ that echo throughout his encyclical.46

The text itself begins with a brief christological meditation: how Jesus saved man

from the devil’s grip, how he trod the earth in Jerusalem, and how some pilgrims

have honored their Lord by journeying to the East. Then, the encyclical quickly

moves on to lament the destruction of the Holy Sepulcher, an event unprecedented

in sacred history. Sergius had never read,

not in the writings of the prophets, or the psalms, or in any doctor of the church––that the tomb

of the redeemer would be destroyed, but rather that it would stand till the end of time. For it is

made clear through the prophet: ‘[Christ’s] tomb shall be glorious forever [Isaiah 11: 10 and

Genesis 13: 15].’ Therefore . . . , I myself . . . desire to set sail with all the Romans, that is Italians, and Tuscans, and any other Christian who wishes to go with us to the people of Hagar . . . , since

I desire to kill them all and wish to restore the unharmed holy tomb of the redeemer.

2007), 15–23; and Richard Landes, ‘The Massacres of 1010: On the Origins of Popular Anti-Jewish

Violence in Western Europe’, in Jeremy Cohen (ed.), From Witness to Witchcraft: Jews and Judaism in

Medieval Christian Thought (Wiesbaden, 1996), 79–112.

45 Alexander Gieysztor, ‘The Genesis of the Crusades: The Encyclical of Sergius IV (1009–12)’,

Medievalia et Humanistica, 5–6 (1948–50), 3–23, 3–34; John France, ‘The Destruction of Jerusalem

and the First Crusade’, Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 47 (1996), 10–14; and idem, ‘Le Rôle de

Jérusalem dans la piété du XIe siècle’, in Michel Balard and Alain Ducellier (eds.), Le Partage du monde: Échange et colonisation dans la Méditerranée médiévale (Paris, 1998), 153. Many arguments against the

encyclical’s authenticity appear rather tautological, supposing that the apocalyptic and christomimetic spirituality expressed was also expressed at the end of the 11th cent. and so must date to this later

period.

46 Carl Erdmann, ‘Die Aufrufe Gerberts und Sergius IV. für das heilige Land’, Quellen und

Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken, 27 (1931–2), 16–19; Hans Martin Schaller,

‘Zur Kreuzzugsenzyklika Papst Sergius’ IV’, in Hubert Mordek (ed.), Papsttum, Kirche und Recht im

Mittelalter: Festschrift für Horst Fuhrmann zum 65. Geburtstag (Tübingen, 1991), 135–49; Martin

Biddle, The Tomb of Christ (Stroud, 1999), 76; Colin Morris, The Sepulchre of Christ and the Medieval

West: From the Beginning to 1600 (Oxford, 2005), 135–7; and Herbert L. Kessler and Johanna

Zacharias, Rome 1300: On the Path of the Pilgrim (New Haven, Conn., 2000), 172–3. Jean Flori,

however, remains ambivalent. Jean Flori, L’Islam et la fin des temps: L’Interprétation prophétique des invasions musulmanes dans la chrétienté médiévale (Paris, 2007), 229–32.

The Franks Return to the Holy Land

143

The text then closes with a meditation on the debt that Jesus paid for man’s sins

and, consequently, the debt that his followers owe to him. So, let there be peace

everywhere and let all those who wish to fight the ‘Lord’s battle’ join Sergius and

the Italians on this expedition.47

Sergius’ project never got off the ground. He called specifically for this to be an

Italian expedition, adding only on a sidebar that any other Christian who wished

could join them. Yet, the early eleventh-century papacy was not in a particularly

strong position, either politically or spiritually, to unite the feuding Italian maritime

cities in common cause for such a grand undertaking. Moreover, we do not know

anything about Sergius IV’s efforts to promote his expedition. He may not have

even made one. His message sounds like it was aimed more towards the cure of his

audience’s souls than sustained military action. It reads like a sermon rather than a

letter.48 Indeed, the fighting here seems peripheral to his main point. Jerusalem and

the Muslims are barely there. After noting the destruction of the Holy Sepulcher,

Sergius never mentions Jerusalem again and he notes the Muslims only thrice,

calling them differently each time: pagans, descendants of Hagar, and enemies of

God. Instead, the majority of the text dwells on Jesus’ role in saving his followers

from the devil’s grasp. Follow the Lord, resist the devil’s wiles, maintain the peace.

Contemporaries, such as Ælfric of Eynsham (d. 1010) and Wulfstan of York

(d. 1023), structured their sermons similarly. Apocalyptic expectation spurred by

the arrival of a marauding force (here, the Muslims; in England, the Vikings) is

redirected towards personal repentance.49 Sergius may well have intended the same.

The expedition Pope Gregory VII (1073–85) proposed to help the Byzantines

was conceptualized differently. A letter from early 1074, addressed to Count

William I of Burgundy (d. 1087), urged William to come to Rome, strike fear

into the hearts of the Normans of Southern Italy and then ‘cross to Constantinople

to bring aid to Christians who are grievously afflicted by . . . the Saracens’.50 In

March 1074, Gregory put out a general summons to aid the Byzantine empire. In

April, he chided Godfrey IV of Lower Lorraine (d. 1076) for not following through

on his promise to provide aid in this matter. Although the expedition had been

47 ‘nunquam legimus neque per prophetam neque per psalmistam neque per doctorem sepulchrum

redemptoris destructum fuisse, sed usque in finem permansisse. Sed per prophetam manifestatur: Et

erit sepulchrum eius gloriosum usque in sempiternum. . . . Igitur . . . quia ego . . . per memetipsum

cupio pergere ex marino litore, et omnes Romani seu Itali cum Tuscis vel qualiscumque Christianus

nobiscum volunt pergere ad gentem Agarenam . . . , cum omnes hostiliter desidero interficere et

sanctum redemptoris sepulchrum volo restaurare incolume.’ Sergius IV, Cum nos pretioso, ed. Hans

Martin Schaller, in Mordek (ed.), Papsttum, Kirche un Recht im Mittelalter, 150–1.

48 See the comments on genre and Sergius’ encyclical in Morris, Sepulchre of Christ, 137.

49 Sergius did seem to think his expedition to the East would be an apocalyptic moment. Because

the Holy Sepulcher ‘would stand until the end of time’ and because it had now been destroyed by

the Saracens, Sergius was saying that prophecy had been fulfilled. We must hasten to Jerusalem, slay

the Muslims, restore the Holy Sepulcher, and help the end come. On Wulfstan and Ælfric, see Mary

P. Richards, ‘Wulfstan and the Millennium’, in Year 1000, 43–6. For example, see Wulfstan, Sermo

ad Anglos, in The Homilies of Wulfstan, ed. Dorothy Bethurum (Oxford, 1957), 267–75.

50 ‘Speramus etiam . . . transeamus Constantinopolim in adiutorium christianorum, qui nimium

afflicti creberrimis morsibus Saracenorum inianter flagitant, ut sibi manum nostri auxilii porrigamus.’