Some translations of primary sources which I have used in seminar teaching will be going up here, relating primarily to the theme of the Crusades (with occasional deviations) . Please do feel free to use them for teaching or research. Please let me know of any mistakes - although I have translated aiming at fluency rather than literal rendering of the original. Sometimes (especially with Old French) there might be multiple possible readings - so beware if relying on this for research!


Excerpts in Translation

When the French had taken Constantinople, they had the Shield of the Lord God held in front of them; yet as soon as they were inside, they threw it down and took up the Shield of the Devil.
— Chronique d'Ernoul


This section of the Chronique d'Ernoul highlights a number of important facets of the capture of Constantinople at the height of the Fourth Crusade (12 April 1204). It imaginatively recounts the death of Alexios V Doukas, nicknamed Mourtzouphlos (hairy-eyebrows) on account of his hirsute brow, by dramatic defenestration. 
The frank description of prizes for those crusaders who first gained access to the city, and the vivid depiction of class-based tensions over loot despite omnipresent threats of excommunication, draw attention to one of the longest ranging debates about the Fourth Crusade: could acquisitiveness and material gain coexist harmoniously with ideas of Holy War?

 Chronique d’Ernoul, continuation of William of Tyre, trans. Simon Thomas Parsons, from Chronique d'Ernoul et de Bernard le Trésorier, ed. Louis de Mas Latrie (Paris: Renouard, 1871), 371-375

Thus, the affair was set for Palm Sunday. When it came to the day after Palm Sunday, in the morning, they armed themselves and boarded the boats, and the Lord God gave to them the gift of favourable wind, which bore them to the walls of Constantinople. The first boat which reached the walls was that of the bishop of Soissons. This one raised up its bridge-ladder onto a tower, and the French and the Venetians climbed over this bridge, and took the tower. The first to enter was a Venetian, and he was killed. The next was a French knight, called Andrew Dureboise. He got a hundred marks, and the next guy got fifty marks, since it had been arranged and established that the first to get in would get a hundred marks and second place would get fifty. As soon as this tower was taken, they lifted up the portcullises and opened the gates, so that the others could better enter the city. When the emperor saw that the French were in the city, he fled, and Constantinople was taken.

            And when Mourtzouphlos saw that the Latins were in the city, he fled to the top of a very high turret, to conceal and hide himself, if he could. But a French Christian saw him fleeing and ran after him, rushing up the steps to the turret, his sword drawn, to kill him. When Mourtzouphlos saw the man who was coming bounding after him, leaping up the stairs of the turret, he was very afraid, and cried out for mercy. The response: ‘Certainly, wicked traitor. Just as you have climbed so high from such a low position, I will bring you down to earth!’ And when he approached, he had his arm outstretched to give him a mighty blow with his sword. Mourtzouphlos saw the blow coming towards him, which there was no possibility of avoiding, except by leaping out of a nearby window from the tower to the earth. He was very badly dismembered, since the height which he leapt from was higher than one could throw a pebble into the air. This turret which Mourtzouphlos leapt from is still called Mourtzouphlos’ Leap, because Mourtzouphlos leapt from it […thanks for that explanation…]. After he had leapt, so many shoes(? - czavates), and rocks, and stones were thrown upon him, that he had a great mountain heaped up on his corpse, and he would never be uncovered. Thus, the city was taken.

            Now I will tell you of what the French and the Venetians had arranged before the assault on the city. They had established and arranged that nobody would take anything from within the church, and that all of the possessions which they would take in the city should be all placed together as is right; because the Venetians sought to have their half completely. Because it was written thus in the agreement, when they had hired the fleet at Corbie [note: the Ernoul continuation, following Robert of Clari, believes the agreement with the Venetians was signed at Corbie in France], that of all the yields of the conquest, whatever land it was in, except for the land of Jerusalem, they ought to have half. Afterwards, when they had established this, they got together three bishops who were there—the bishop of Soissons, the bishop of Troyes, and one bishop of Germany—and they threatened with excommunication all those who for any reason would turn back on their agreement, and not bring forward everything they would find so that it could be divided out. Afterwards they threatened with excommunication all of those who might take anything from a church, who would rob a priest or a monk, no matter what they had on them, or would lay a hand upon a woman. Thus, this was established and commanded, and the threat of excommunication promulgated. Before the French entered into Constantinople, they were filled with the Grace of the Holy Spirit, and they had great charity in their hearts, and if a hundred Greeks saw ten Frenchmen, they fled from them. When the French had taken Constantinople, they had the shield of the Lord God held in front of them; yet as soon as they were inside, they threw it down and took up the Shield of the Devil. They ran towards the Holy Church, smashing up the abbeys and robbing them. The greed was so great among them that whatever they should have taken up [to the common trove] they took down. The hate there was so great, and the anger, among them, that the knights said that the poor people had everything secreted away in their possession, and the poor people said that the knights and the priests had it all.


The devil of hell, seeing the great love between the emperor and the king, was very mournful. So he entered into the heart of the emperor and made him love a niece of King John, who had come from Outremer with his daughter. He took her virginity, and so spurned his love and his wife.
— Chronique d'Ernoul

 Chronique d’Ernoul, continuation of William of Tyre, trans. Simon Thomas Parsons, from Chronique d'Ernoul et de Bernard le Trésorier, ed. Louis de Mas Latrie (Paris: Renouard, 1871), 407-411, 449-454

These vivid sections on marriages relating to the crusader states in the thirteenth century portray accurately the difficulties of maintaining any form of political or dynastic continuity in Outremer during this period. The first half is a frank portrayal of the barons and nobility of Jerusalem selecting John of Brienne as a mail-order husband for the young Maria of Montferrat, whose father, Conrad, had been killed by the assassins in 1192, while Maria was still in the womb of Isabella of Jerusalem. John of Brienne's (necessary?) consultation with the King of France before his departure, and seeming acquiescence to the abduction of Maria's half-sister, Philippa, by his cousin Erard, are evocatively described. The second half deals with John of Brienne's decision to marry his young daughter (through whom he was, at least in title, King of Jerusalem) Isabella to Frederick II of Germany/Sicily, the enigmatic and somewhat sinister emperor, at this point delaying his own crusading activity. Marriage, or the devil, evidently turned the emperor on to John of Brienne's niece, for some illicit adultery and subsequent domestic violence, alongside political implications...

Now let us leave the topic of King Frederick, who was in Germany, and delayed there for a long time before he went to Rome to be crowned, until the juncture which we will come to in due course, and speak instead of Outremer.

It came to pass that the king Aimery [of Lusignan] died, and that the claim now passed to the daughter of the Marquis Conrad [of Montferrat], whom the assassins had killed. She had no husband, thus one of her uncles was made guardian of the realm (until they decided to whom the kingdom should be given, and thus, who should be lord of the land.) This knight who was made guardian was her uncle and was called John of Ibelin, and was the son of Balian and the queen Maria [Comnena] who was the wife of King Amalric. For four years he was guardian of the land, before a partner was found to whom the young lady could be given, and he held the land well, in peace, against the wishes of the Saracens.

It came to pass that the patriarch, the archbishops and the bishops, and the barons of the land assembled, and the Templars and the Hospitallers, and spoke together, and took counsel on the subject of whom the young lady should be given to, and made king of the land. Then one knight of the realm stood up, and said to them that he knew a knight in France who didn’t have a wife, and that he was a noble man and a valiant one, and if they wished, it seemed to him a good plan to send for him and that he would be well regarded among the realm and she would be justly matched with him. They demanded to know who he was and what his name was. He said that his name was Count John of Brienne. They spoke together, and took counsel, and there were enough of them who knew him well and plenty more who had heard talk of him.

Thus they were in unanimous agreement to send to him and give the young lady to him, and make him king. They appointed messengers, whom they sent to find him. The messengers came to him in France, where he was, and said that those of the land of Outremer sent for him to be their king. When he heard this, he said that he would take advice. Then Count John of Brienne went to the king, and said that, as it happened, they had sent for him to be king in the land of Outremer. The king gave his assent that he should go. And thus, he went and arrived in Acre, and was received in great honour and by huge numbers of nobles. Then he went to Tyre, and married the lady, and bore the crown. When the Saracens knew that the king was at Acre, they broke their truces which they had made with the guardian, and waged war against the Christians.

When King John had taken the crown, he ordered the king of Cyprus to take as his wife [Alice] the daughter of Count Henry of Champagne, whose vassal he [John] had been, insisting that their fathers, Aimery [of Lusignan] and the Count Henry, the father of the bride, had arranged the marriage before their deaths. The king of Cyprus sent for her, and married her, and made her queen.

King John had a blood-cousin, of the name Erard of Brienne. He noticed one day that the King had gone to Tyre. He went to the queen, acting in such a way that she might give him the other daughter of Count Henry for safekeeping. But he secretly married her, as soon as she had entrusted her to him, because he had no desire for the king to be blamed for this, and so that nobody could say that the king had given her to him. When Erard had married the daughter of the Count Henry, he crossed overseas, and went to France. I will speak no more of Erard here, nor of his wife, but perhaps we will hear more of them later.

King John, when he was at Acre, wrote to the pope, in God’s name, that he might send aid, since he had great need of manpower. When the pope heard the news of the land of Outremer, that it had need of assistance and aid, he sent throughout all of Christendom to the best clergy he knew, that they should preach the cross of Outremer. Afterwards he sent cardinals, to advise and confirm what they were doing, and many took the cross from every land.

There was, in France, a good cleric, who preached the cross, having as his name Jacques de Vitry. Where he preached, many took the cross. The canons of Acre elected him, and they sent to the pope asking that he should make Jacques their bishop. And know that this is the truth: if it had not been the wish of the pope, it would not have come to pass. But all obstacles were overcome and he crossed beyond the sea and became bishop, ruling for a long time. He acted very well in the land, but eventually he retired and went back to France, and the pope made him cardinal of Rome.

The first great man who set out on this croiserie was the king of Hungary, bringing with him very many men. And great men from all lands came on this crossing which he king had made, and arrived at Acre.

At this point, when the king of Hungary arrived, the queen, the wife of King John, died, leaving behind a daughter. The king was not able to be without a wife, and sent to the king of Armenia that he might send one of his daughters, and he would take her as his new wife. The king [of Armenia] sent one, and John married her. Afterwards, the king of Armenia came to Acre, when King John had married his daughter. Afterwards, he went to the king of Cyprus with his entire court.        

At the point when King John arrived in Apulia, the wife of the emperor [Constance of Aragon, wife of Frederick II] died. And when they had reached that agreement, of which I have spoken, by which the conquests made [during the Fifth Crusade] should fall to the king [John], the pope spoke to the emperor of the possibility of taking the daughter of King John as his wide. The emperor responded to the pope, saying that he would take her willingly through the great love he had for the Father. This he swore on the pope’s hand, and the king swore it also. And there was great joy and rejoicing, and thanks rendered to the Lord God, since his daughter had been married into such a high position. When they had done so, they departed, and the emperor went to Apulia and King John went with the pope back to Rome, where he was received with a procession. Afterwards he went on to France, to King Phillip, who was still living and was acting honourably. Afterwards, he went to England to the king, and then went back to France. And I tell you the truth that in all these lands, and in the cities and castles and towns where he came and went, he was met with processions and great parties.

He did not stay long, since when King John was in France, King Phillip died. He left great wealth to King John, and great support to send to the land of Outremer. King John was in St Denis to bury king Phillip. Afterwards, he was at the coronation of King Louis [VII], his son, at Reims. Then he left France, and went to Saint-James [of Compostella]. On his return, he met the king of Spain at Burgos, who had greeted him with great honour in his lands, and did likewise. There, the king [Alfonso IX/Ferdinand III] gave a sister which he had [to John] to marry. So he married her, and great wealth came with her.

When King John had married his wife, he took leave, and went back to France. When he had been in France for a while, he said goodbye to Louis and his barons. He said that he had to leave, because the emperor was waiting in Apulia to cross the sea to marry his daughter. He went, and wandered until he reached the emperor in Apulia. When he was there, the emperor said that he had sent for his daughter and that she should come there instead, so that he could marry her; he had no desire to go over the sea, on account of the truce that there was in the land of Outremer. The king sent for her, and brought her to Apulia. When she had come, the emperor married her and made her bear a crown. Furthermore, he greatly loved King John, and made him a lord of his land.

The devil of hell, seeing the great love between the emperor and the king, was very mournful. So he entered into the heart of the emperor and made him love a niece of King John, who had come from Outremer with his daughter. He took her virginity, and so spurned his love and his wife. A day came when King John went to see the empress, his daughter, and found her distraught in her chamber, and asked her what had happened. She recounted that the emperor had in such a way acted wrongly against John’s niece, and that he had taken her virginity and kept her as his concubine, and had turned against her.  When he heard this, he was very angry, and comforted his daughter as best he could, before taking his leave and going to where the emperor was. When he came upon the emperor, the emperor got up to meet and greet him. The king said that he would not wish him health, because such a disloyal (if not downright wicked) man as himself deserved no greeting;  and that all who assented to his being emperor had been shamed by it (with the exception of the king of France), and, if it were not for the sin which would entail or the reproach which he would get from it, he would have killed him right there, and if not, would never eat until he had done so. When the emperor heard this speech, he was filled with fear, and ordered that he [John] should depart his lands, and demanded that he should hand over the money which the king of France had left with him for the land of Outremer. The king replied that he would in no way part with the money, but he would leave the realm, since he would not tarry in the realm of such a treacherous man. And other insults which I won’t tell you now.

King John left that land and went to Rome. The men of Rome heard tell that the king had come, and of the bust-up with the emperor on account of his wickedness. They went to meet and greet him with great honour, and promised that they would lend him aid of 40,000 shields, if he had need of them. He thanked them profusely. He left Rome and went to Lombardy, to Bologna, and stayed there with his wife. When the men of Lombardy heard tell that the king had come to Bologna, they assembled the consuls of the cities, and by common counsel of the land, went to Bologna, and wished him well. They said that all the communes of Lombardy, the cities and the castles, sent him greetings, and welcome; and that, if he wished, they would render to him the entire land, crown him, and make him their king. The king thanked them, and said to them that he would not refuse them, but the land was his daughter’s, who was married to the emperor. In her land, he said, he would never do anything by force, even if he ought to, but he would stay and suffer in the land, that was his wish.

When the emperor had exiled King John, he was deeply ashamed by the King’s words. He went to where his wife was, and beat her very hard, so that she nearly lost the child she was bearing (for she was pregnant). Afterwards, he had her imprisoned in a castle. She was there for a long time, until that time when [the emperor] heard that the king was still in Lombardy. At this point, she was dragged out of prison, and he held her in love as he ought to have done before.


It came to pass that the wife of the emperor delivered a son, and only a short time afterwards, died. When King John heard that his daughter was dead, he was distraught, but regardless, was glad that he had stayed around to hear of this.  

The Turks held the church of Saint Peter, defiled it more, and in that house of God made three oracles to the devil, and they covered with lime or plaster all the images, which were adorned with the most precious gold and silver, and which shone miraculously throughout the entire church, and wrote demonic letters all over the murals.
— Historia de via et recuperatione Antiochie atque Ierusolymarum


A twelfth-century account of the situation inside Antioch during the crusader siege, 1097-98, trans. Simon Thomas Parsons, from Hystoria de via et recuperatione Antiochiae atque Ierusolymarum (olim Tudebodus imitatus et continuatus) : I Normanni d'Italia alla prima Crociata in una cronaca cassinese, ed. by Edoardo D'Angelo, Edizione nazionale dei testi mediolatini, 23 (Florence: SISMEL - Edizioni del Galluzzo, 2009), 39, 61–62.

The Hystoria de via et recuperatione Antiochie et Ierusolymarum (The History of the Pilgrimage to, and the Recovery of, Antioch and the Jerusalemites), also frequently referred to by the name Historia belli Sacri (History of the Holy War), is one of the most neglected First Crusade accounts. It is in large part an amalgamation of a text of the Gesta Francorum tradition and the Tancredus of Ralph of Caen, with several lengthy independent passages. It was composed at the Abbey of Montecassino, probably shortly after 1130, but the compositional circumstances of the text remain relatively obscure. 

The passages cited here discuss the situation within Antioch when it was under Christian siege on the First Crusade, that is, between October 1097 and June 1098. These passages are to my knowledge not paralleled in any other crusade source directly, and so should be treated with caution, but paint an intriguing picture of the polyglot and multicultural citizens of Antioch before the siege (or at least the perception of many races co-existing some years later), and the kind of compromises which could be reached between religious enemies, even in the height of conflict. The final section presents a vivid miracle, whereby a statue of Christ is protected from pagan attempts to destroy it, with dramatic effect.

I ought not neglect to mention that all the nobles among the Turks, hearing of the arrival of the Christians in their lands, and the imminent siege of the city, came together in one group and held a council, saying that they should send representatives out to every gate to cast all of the Christians who could wage war outside of the city, except those who wished to deny Christ on the spur of the moment. For they feared greatly, lest they should hand over the city to those Christian pilgrims who were arriving. Therefore, they ordered that the priests, deacons, monks, and all the laity as well, namely the Greeks, Armenians, Syrians, and all those who were strong enough to bear arms, except the women and small children, to be cast out through the gates. The heralds were arrayed before the gates of the city, surrounding the Christians who were going out, lest by chance anyone of them was carrying gold or silver with them, and they allowed nobody to carry anything with them, except their cheap clothes.


The Turks, seeing that the city was in trouble, and all of their nobles had been killed, were sad and devastated. At that time, when the Turks were in Antioch, alas! For the sins and transgressions of the Christians, they entered and threw out the honourable patriarch from the church of blessed Peter, with five hundred canons, monks and other clerics, and ordered them to go to the church of Saint Mary, mother of Christ, and there serve their God zealously in devotion. The Turks held the church of Saint Peter, defiled it more, and in that house of God made three oracles to the devil, and they covered with lime or plaster all the images, which were adorned with the most precious gold and silver, and which shone miraculously throughout the entire church, and wrote demonic letters all over the murals. The Emir made his oracle very ornate, adorned with gold, in front of the door of the church to the right hand side, ordering that no Christian should go there. The patriarch, hearing that the holy church was disgraced, was hugely distraught and lamented the precious images which had been covered up, and instructed the emir not to have the precious statue of our saviour covered up which had been miraculously placed in the middle of the ceiling boards of the church, and also that it should not be dishonoured by anyone for whatever reason, and he bought this right with five hundred solidi (Byzantine Greek coins) paid every year; the emir conceded this to him. All of this took place before our Frankish pilgrims had begun their journey.

61. One day, when the city was laid out under siege, while the Turks were gathered in the church of Saint Peter for the purpose of holding a council—they gathered there to hold councils, since it was very beautiful and decorated with a fine tiled floor—when, as I was saying, they came together to decide what they should do about the siege of the Franks, and looking upwards they saw on the ceiling of the aforementioned church the statue of our Saviour, so very precious, and adorned with purple, so visible, as if it was speaking with them. They addressed it directly: ‘What are you doing there, peasant? Your men besiege us from outside, and you are here watching us? We want neither you nor your men any longer: come down from there at once; if however, you do not want to come down from there, we will shoot you with arrows!’ They started to shoot arrows at once, and none of their arrows dared to approach the statue of the Lord, and if by chance any arrow got close to Him even a little bit, at once it fell to the feet of the Turks, broken by divine grace. When they saw that they could not harm it at all by firing arrows, they were greatly angered; then the emir ordered that one of them should climb up there to where the statue was positioned, and hurl it down to the ground. When the man had confidently climbed up according to the orders of his emir, and wished to approach the very beautiful statue, the ceiling of the church broke beneath his feet, and he fell, and he broke his neck straight away, and he lay dead in the church, all of his limbs scattered about. The others, seeing this, were seized by great terror.


You would leave me all alone here in this strange land.
We have so many castles to take!
If you lose this city on account of your sins,
All you have done will be worthless
— Godfrey of Bouillon, Chanson de Jérusalem


Godfrey’s appeal to the barons after the conquest of Jerusalem (1099), trans. Simon Thomas Parsons, from The Old French Crusade Cycle, ed. by Jan A. Nelson and others, 10 vols (Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 1977–2003), VI: La Chanson de Jérusalem, ed. by Nigel R. Thorp (1992), 154–55.

In front of the Holy Temple, the knighthood had gathered in great numbers.

Godfrey the King called upon the princes:

‘My lords, I see all too clearly that you wish to depart.

I see you have tied your palm leaves and spikenard and loaded them up.

You would leave me all alone here in this strange land.

We have so many castles to take!

If you lose this city on account of your sins,

All you have done will be worthless.

Think carefully, and stay here for the sake of God:

Serve Our Lord in this Holy City.’

The Count of Flanders responded, ‘Nonsense.

Godfrey, lord and king, you are wrong to say this.

We’re not all made of such stern stuff as you, fashioned out of iron and steel so to speak,

So that we might get through the course of action you suggest.

I, for one, have broken every single one of my ribs.

I have worn my mail-coat for so long, even sleeping in it, come rain and storm;

Over thirty holes have appeared in the leather parts,

My sides and ribs are all messed up and bruised.

And while I’m not in a good way,

There are so many other wretches who are so pitiful and battered:

All of them need rest.

It has been a full year since I saw fresh bed linen,

Or since I washed and combed my hair.

I am so ready to go home, I take my leave.

It’s your choice if you come with us.’

King Godfrey responded: ‘Good sir, adieu!

Because I will not leave here to have my achievements mutilated:

May God and the Holy Trinity be with me.’


This section of the Chanson de Jérusalem, an imaginative early-thirteenth century account of the capture of Jerusalem on the First Crusade (1099) describes the struggle which Godfrey of Bouillon faced in keeping the crusading forces within the city to defend it after the expedition’s initial objectives had been achieved. Although the most recent studies of the text have shown very little evidence that there were any meaningful historical sources for the Jérusalem, and, as a result, the historicity of this passage should be viewed with great scepticism, the emotions expressed probably represent quite well the divergent feelings among the victorious crusaders. Fulcher of Chartres famously reported the paucity of Latin knights who stayed in the East after 1100; we know that many leaders (such as the Robert of Flanders mentioned here) returned home without significant delay. The passage evocatively depicts the sense of exhaustion which must have been felt on all sides, ranged against the desire to maintain a stable state in a ‘strange land’, ‘estrange terre’. A few explanatory notes. The Holy Temple may be what the inhabitants of the Latin East called the Templum Domini, or ‘Temple of the Lord’ (Dome of the Rock) or the Templum Salamonis, or ‘Temple of Solomon’ (Al-Aqsa Mosque). Both are in the same Temple Mount complex and an outside space such as described here can be envisaged which is outside both. In the middle ages, pilgrims often physically wore palm leaves, fashioned into the shape of a cross, on their person to demonstrate their successful completion of a pilgrimage. Spikenard was used as the base of an oil for anointing and healing, and this may have also been part of the celebration of pilgrimage. Both are presented here as being associated with returning crusaders. The second from last line presents some problems—in the Old French ‘Car jo ne m’en iroie por estre desmenbrés’, ‘Because I will not go from here to be dismembered.’ Although it is perfectly possible to render this as a physical dismemberment, that is, the danger faced by returning crusaders on the way back to the West, I have opted to represent ‘desmembrer’ in a figurative sense (for which there are many parallels), ‘to diminish, damage, harm, mutilate’. I think Godfrey is concerned not about physical, but moral and reputational, harm. For this reason, I have supplied ‘my achievements’ to reflect what I see as the intended meaning.  The full translated text of the Chanson de Jérusalem, rendered expertly into English by Carol Sweetenham, has recently been published by Routledge in the Crusade Texts in Translation series. The translation here, which differs in a few interpretational focus points, is not based on Sweetenham’s, but will, I hope, encourage interested parties to consult  her version!


The English are good at boasting, but don’t know how to back it up.
But they know all too well how to drink and guzzle huge tankards of beer.



Jordan Fantôsme was an Anglo-Norman writer c. 1175-1185. He wrote a characterful and fast-paced history of the war between Henry II of England and William I of Scotland, in 1173 and 1174, a conflict which also saw Henry’s son, Henry the Young King, turn against his father in rebellion, causing a limited civil war. This section deals with the dialogue of Robert of Breteuil, Earl of Leicester and his wife, Petronella of Grandmesnil, as they both advance to war outside Bury St. Edmunds in Suffolk, backed up by Flemish knights-for-hire. They had sided with Henry the Young-King, and were consequently fighting against the king’s men. Three sections in particular of this passage indicate cultural tensions: 1) the accusation that the 'English' (evidently not including the Anglo-Norman lords who are speaking, from the pejorative tone, although they are just as English as their opponents who were also Anglo-Normans of French heritage) are tipsy braggarts; 2) The frank admission that Robert's forces were seasonal looters from Northern France looking for wool and plunder, and 3) The arming of Petronella herself and the subsequent implication of Robert's foolishness for letting this transgression occur. Hugh Bigod, of course, said more than 'Sounds good' (in reality, 'n'i ad fors de l'aler, 'there is nothing for it but to go') but the function is the same. Bury St. Edmunds' Tourist Information Centre did not respond to a request for an interview, and seemed curiously uninterested in incorporating this glowing review into their promotional literature.

Jordan Fantôsme's Dialogue of Robert of Breteuil and Petronella of Grandmesnil during the 1173-1174 rebellion against Henry II's rule, trans. Simon Thomas Parsons, from Jordan Fantôsme, Chronicle, ed. R. C. Johnston (Oxford: Clarendon, 1981), 72-74


[Robert]: ‘For too long have I waited to help my lord,
And avenge myself of my injuries against his father the aged king.
My good knights, are any of you going to speak up?
Who will dare to support me in this?’
His wife answered: ‘Yes, my lord, I will. Gladly!
May the Lord God, who is, of course, the rightful king,
Forbid that you leave this course of action on account of Humphrey de Bohun [loyal general commanding the opposition],
Or for the Count of Arundel [William d’Aubigny, another loyal leader], no matter how sweet his words are!
The English are good at boasting, but don’t know how to back it up.
But they know all too well how to drink and guzzle huge tankards of beer.
The count of Gloucester [William FitzRobert] is greatly to be feared, 
But he has your sister as his wife and companion.
He wouldn’t try and do anything to your disadvantage,
Not for all the gold in France.’
‘My lady’, said the Earl, ‘I hear what you say;
I must do what you tell me, because I love you a lot.’
[He turns to his ally and friend, Hugh Bigod, Earl of Norfolk]
‘Lord Hugh of the Castle, will you join us?
If you were at Leicester, in great danger, 
You would have no need to worry if everyone in England were ranged against you;
You could easily make life hell for them.’
Hugh said: ‘Sounds good’.
You would have heard, then, great and loud cries,
Between the Flemings of Flanders and the French and those of Poix (Normandy):
‘We have not come here to this country on holiday,
But to destroy King Henry the old warrior,
And to get his wool, which we want.’
My lords, this is the truth, most of them were weavers, 
And didn’t really know how to bear arms like a knight would.
But this was the reason they had come, to have plunder and war,
Because there is no greater destination than Bury St. Edmunds in England.
Now listen, lord barons, of the great vengeance of God,
Which he brought down on the Flemings and on the people of France.
The Count of Leicester was a very powerful man, 
But he was too full of youthful courage and exuberance.
When he thought he could stroll through England publicly,
Carrying out robberies and looting without any disturbance,
And giving arms to his wife, who was kitted out with a lance and shield,
His foolishness led to his undoing. 


Siege d'Antioche

Dr. Linda Paterson

Dr. Simon Parsons

Dr. Carol Sweetenham

Fordham Center for Medieval Studies

A transcription and translation from Bodleian Library MS Hatton 77 and BL MS Add. 34114


Quant Buiamond li princesprince | ot finifinie sa raison

et la citié fud arse | jesqu'al maistremeste donjon,

loreslors ont acordé | li nobile baron [1]

qu'il feroientferront un mur | od chauz et od sablon

entr'els et les paens | del chastel Garsion,

que cel qu'ilque orent fait | ne valut un boton:

Tut le ront craventél'ont recravente | Sarazin paien li felongloton,

ore en penst Damedé | qui soffri passion,

que que soit del parfaire | le mur comencerom .

Communalment i ovrentorent | chevaler et geudon,

mais fort le jorfort le lor le deffendent | la mainsieemaisnieemaisne Mahon: [2]

oncque le premerain jor, | foi que nos vos devom,

ne porent aseer | ne mes uneun ureison

nonne feïssentfeiseient il ja | si ne fust par Raimon [3]

le conte de Seint Gile | qui mult fud savies homsage homme.

Cil lor fist un engin | mervillosement bon:

plus orent de dis teises | li plus bas estelon

et furent bien traveztrouez | de granz fustz environ; [4]

ne criement cop de piere | le vaillant d'un bouton. [5]

Iloc s'en sunt monté | Provencal et Gascon,

qui suresursor leslez Sarazins, | qui mult furent felon,

lancent pierres et pels, | et cel a grant fuison,

que remuez les ont | de trestut l'environlaviron;

puis funt enprés le mur, | u il voillent u non,

qui merveilles lor fud, | a grant deffension.

Mais ore oiezorrez, seignors, | une grantgrante auisionavisonauision

que Deus ad demustré | par sa beneïçon.

Ce fud a uneun nuit, | por voir le vos disom,

que grant feu mervillos, | senz bosche et sanz charbon,

fud veüvenu(?) as herberges | de la gent Pharaon,

qui vient devers le ciel | u aoue grant lueïsonlucison. [6]

Tut en durent estre ars | li encriesme felon,

n'i ad cil ne guerpisse | et tente et pavillon;

onquesonc icele nuit | n'i ot lai ne chançon,

trestut en sunt torné | en despereïson.

Ce dient li alquant: | Car nos nos en alom [7]

ainz que cist feuscest fu nos arde | et que nos i morrom!

Ja contre cels del ciel | mes ne nos combatrons:

bien poüm aperceivre, | par sen et par raison,

que Damedé ne vielt | que cele villede ceste citié aiom.

Mult ferom que musart | si mesja plus i esteiom! .

Forment en ont entr'els, | seignors, grant contençon:

lilez uns volentuoleient l'aler | et li autre le non. [8]

Bien lor ditlora dit Corberan, | o la fiere façon:

Por nïentneient en parlez, | que ja nen tornerom;

si ceste vile estnest prise, | queqi tienent cil Francon

qui la nos ont tolue | par lur seductïon,

soudan de Corrocane | meneraimenrai Buiamon

et seront tuit li autre | mené comme larron.

Ce respondent paen, | hardi comme leon:

Face quanqu'il voldra, | car ja ne li faudrom!.


It was only when Prince Bohemond had finished expounding his position and the city was burnt to the ground as far as the main keep that the noble lords agreed to construct a wall with lime and sand as a barrier between them and the pagans in Garsion’s citadel , since the one they had already built was worse than useless. The villainous Saracens have knocked the whole thing down again. Now may God Who suffered in the Passion spare a thought for our plight; whatever it may take to complete it, we will get to work on the wall. Knights and footsoldiers worked shoulder to shoulder, but the troops of Mohammed made it very hard going: that first day, by the faith we owe you, they would have been unable to hold the ground and if it hadn’t been for Raymond , the Count of St Gilles, a very clever man. He had a remarkably good siege engine built for them: the beams in the bottom storey were more than 60 feet long and were firmly buttressed by stout logs; the Christians had no fear of any damage a stone might inflict. The Provençals and Gascons swarmed up it and flung javelins sticks and stones in abundance at the Saracens , those appalling villains; that cleared them out of the whole area; then they put up the wall nearby whether the Saracens liked it or not, which was little short of miraculous given the heavy opposition. But now, my lords, hear about a great vision which God manifested in His blessed goodness. It was one night – we are telling you the truth – that a massive flame, miraculous and fuelled by neither wood nor coal, was seen above the camp of the race of Pharaoh ; it came down from the sky, which was all lit up. All those black-skinned villains were on the verge of being burnt by it; there was not a single one who did not abandon his tent or pavilion. There was not much singing of lais or songs that night; every last one turned away in despair. Some spoke in these terms: Why don’t we leave before this fire burns us and we find ourselves dead men? We cannot continue to take on opponents from Heaven; it is abundantly clear in sense and reason that God does not want us to take this town . We should be complete fools if we carry on as we are. My lords, the argument raged back and forth: some of them were determined to leave and others determined not to. Corbaran addressed them proudly in no uncertain terms: You are wasting your time discussing this. There is no way we are going to retreat. If this town is taken – which these Franks hold because they seduced it away from us. I shall march Bohemond off to the Sultan of Corozan , and all the others will be trailed along behind him like thieves. At this the pagans replied, brave as lions: Let him do as he sees fit – we will never let him down!