By the summer of 1097 the armies of the First Crusade had captured the Seljuk Turk capital of Nicaea and were moving on towards Jerusalem. In their way stood the fortress city of Antioch. They could not simply march around the city as this would leave a secure, hostile garrison to their rear, so they set about besieging the city.

Antioch’s defences were formidable. It was surrounded by over three miles of walls that were twenty metres high and two metres thick, studded all along by guard towers. Not only this, but the walls to the south of the city ran up and over the craggy mass of Mount Silpius. The crusaders were unable to seal the mountain passes so the south side of the city remained open and porous, so much so that the citizens of Antioch were still able to take their flocks to graze on the slopes of the mountain.

Whilst the citizens of Antioch therefore continued in relative comfort, well defended with access to food and water, the crusading armies endured a hellish nine moths encamped before the city. It was a bitter winter, and the rain poured. There was little food for the army, little fodder for the horses and beasts of burden, and little firewood available with which to cook or keep warm.

By the spring of 1098 the situation was dire; many were deserting the army, the rest were starving. And then news came that a Muslim army was marching to relieve the city, led by Kerbogha of Mosul. Within weeks the crusaders would be trapped between the walls of Antioch and Kerbogha’s army and would surely be slaughtered.

Having been unable to take the city by force, the crusaders were finally able to take it by deception when a man named Firouz, in command of a stretch of the city walls, betrayed the city. Firouz allowed a force of Christian knights into the city and these men opened the city gates from within and let the rest of the army in.

Although they were now in possession of the city, the situation for the crusaders was hardly much better. Kerbogha arrived soon after and the beleaguered and starving crusaders were now under siege themselves. Morale was low.

It was at this moment, in June of 1098, that a little-known preacher named Peter Bartholomew approached Raymond of Toulouse, one of the most senior leaders of the crusade. Peter declared that Saint Andrew had come to him in a series of visions and revealed to him the location of the Holy Lance – the lance that had pierced Christ’s side on the cross. Peter announced that the lance was buried somewhere within Antioch.

Raymond believed the preacher, others had their doubts. The spiritual leader of the crusade, Adhemar, Bishop of Le Puy, had strong doubts. Peter’s reputation, such as he had one, was that of a man who enjoyed earthly pleasures a little too much and he seemed an odd choice of spokesman for the saint. Adhemar was probably also aware that another object purported to be the Holy lance was sitting in the imperial treasury in Constantinople.

Whatever the princes thought in private, they were probably all conscious of what a valuable morale booster such a relic could be.

On 14th of June a meteor was seen to fall into the Turkish camp and this was taken to be a propitious omen. The next day Peter Bartholomew led a party of men, including Raymond of Toulouse, to the cathedral of St Peter that stood in the middle of the city. The men lifted the floor of the church and dug all day. Just as it seemed that they were to be disappointed, Peter himself jumped into the trench and miraculously produced a piece of iron.

A cult quickly grew up around the Holy Lance, championed by Raymond of Toulouse. The crusading army was fired with a new zeal and then Saint Andrew appeared once again and advised Peter that the army must fast for five days to purify itself and then launch an attack on the besiegers. If they carried the Holy Lance into battle, then they could not be defeated.

Fortunately, the saint’s new advice coincided conveniently with the conclusion that some of the other leaders of the crusade had already reached – that their only hope was an audacious sally from the city.

Raymond was ill at the time of the battle, but his chaplain carried the lance into the fray. The crusaders won a stunning victory. Perhaps this was due to the power of the lance, or perhaps it was due to the divisions within the Turkish ranks that were already causing Kerbogha’s army to fragment.

Many in the crusading armies expected that, having lifted the siege, they would now make the short march to Jerusalem and complete their holy mission. But instead, there was a prolonged period of inertia. The leaders of the crusade, principally Raymond and Bohemond of Taranto, squabbled over who would keep control of Antioch. Despite having sworn an oath to Alexios, emperor of Byzantium, to return all captured land to the empire, Bohemond wanted the city for himself. Raymond would not leave for Jerusalem if Bohemond refused to go as well, and everybody waited to see if Alexios would come to claim the city as was his right.

Then Adhemar died of a fever that was sweeping through the city (probably typhus). He had been an emollient influence on the leaders and without him their divisions only became more entrenched.

Peter, who had always resented Adhemar for his doubts about the lance, now said that Adhemar had come to him in a vision. For doubting the veracity of the relic, Peter said that Adhemar had spent two days in hell. The dead bishop also reportedly said that Bohemond should be given Antioch and everybody else should march to Jerusalem.

This was awkward. Raymond was still the champion of the lance but Peter, its discoverer, was now saying things that went against Raymond’s wishes. Raymond responded by saying that he still believed in the lance but no longer thought Peter’s visions were genuine which had the effect of undermining both Peter and the lance. Speaking out against Adhemar was also a tactical error on Peter’s part. Adhemar had been highly respected and, by drawing attention to the fact that Adhemar had doubted the lance’s veracity, Peter actually fuelled the growing scepticism.

Eventually, Raymond moved on from Antioch to continue the mission. The reality of the situation was that Alexios wasn’t coming, Bohemond held most of Antioch and was already acting as its de facto governor, and Raymond’s reputation was suffering. His only good option was to lead the crusade onwards.

However, he didn’t lead the armies straight to Jerusalem as many would have expected. Instead, he laid siege to the town of Arqa. This siege did not go well. The armies soon started to agitate again to march on Jerusalem, but Raymond refused, insisting that they take Arqa. Peter Bartholomew then preached that Saint Andrew had visited him yet again and commanded that the crusaders assault the town. For many this was the last straw. This latest vision, that again simply seemed to reflect the will of a powerful man (in this case Raymond), led to anger and to Peter being openly ridiculed.

Up to this point Peter comes across as a cynical, manipulative character but what happens next suggests that he truly did believe in the power of the Holy Lance. In his fury at being ridiculed he demanded that he be submitted to an ordeal by fire. Therefore, a passageway was created between two walls of burning logs.

On Good Friday 1099, with lance in hand, Peter passed into the flaming passageway. He emerged from the other end terribly burned and lingered in agony for another twelve days before he died.

The Holy Lance of Antioch was now thoroughly discredited. Raymond was humiliated for his credulity and this, perhaps, contributed to the fact that he eventually relented and marched towards Jerusalem and the ultimate goal of the crusade.

Adam Staten is the author of Crusader, the most recent release in Honour Bound. Published by Sharpe Books.