Читать книгу The History of the Crusades (Vol.1-3) - Joseph François Michaud - Страница 12

The companions of Godfrey and Tancred beat the gate of St. Stephen to pieces with axes, and the city was at once thrown open to the crowd of Crusaders, who pressed forward and contended for the honour of dealing the last blow to the conquered infidels.

Raymond alone still experienced some resistance. Warned of the success of the Christians, by the clashing of arms, and the tumult he heard in the city, he endeavoured still further to animate his soldiers. The latter, impatient to join their companions, abandoned their tower and machines, which they could no longer move. They planted ladders and swords, by the means of which they mounted the rampart, whither they were preceded by the count of Thoulouse, Raymond Pelet, the bishop of Bira, the count de Die, and William de Sabran. Nothing now could stop their progress; they dispersed the Saracens, who with their emir had taken refuge in the fortress of David,[177] and soon all the Crusaders united in Jerusalem embraced, wept for joy, and gave all their attention to the completion of their victory.

Despair, however, for a moment forced the bravest of the Saracens to rally, and they charged with impetuosity the Christians, who, in the security of victory, were proceeding to the pillage.[178] The latter were even beginning to give way before the enemy they had so recently conquered, when Everard de Puysaie, of whom Raoul de Caen has celebrated the bravery, revived the courage of his companions, placed himself at their head, and once more spread terror among the infidels. From that moment the Crusaders had no more enemies to contend with. History has remarked that the Christians entered Jerusalem on a Friday, at the hour of three in the afternoon; exactly the same day and hour at which Christ expired for the salvation of the human race. It might have been expected that this memorable epoch would have awakened sentiments of mercy in their hearts; but, irritated by the threats and protracted insults of the Saracens, incensed by the sufferings they had undergone during the siege, and by the resistance they had met with even in the city, they filled with blood and mourning that Jerusalem which they came to deliver, and which they considered as their own future country. The carnage soon became general, for all who escaped from the swords of Godfrey and Tancred, fell into the hands of the Provençals, equally thirsting for blood. The Saracens were massacred in the streets and in the houses; Jerusalem contained no place of refuge for the vanquished. Some sought to escape death by throwing themselves from the ramparts; others flocked in crowds to the palaces, the towers, but particularly to the mosques,—but nowhere could they escape the pursuit of the Christians.

When the Crusaders made themselves masters of the mosque of Omar, in which the Saracens defended themselves for some time, a frightful repetition ensued of the scenes of carnage which attended the conquest of Titus. Horse and foot entered the mosque pêle-mêle with the vanquished. In the midst of the most horrible tumult nothing was heard but groans, screams, and cries of death; the conquerors trampling over heaps of bodies in pursuit of all who endeavoured to escape. Raymond d’Agiles, an ocular witness, says that under the portico, and in the porch of the mosque, the blood rose up to the knees and the bridles of the horses.[179] To paint the terrible spectacle which was presented at two periods in the same place, it will suffice to say, borrowing the words of the historian Josephus, that the number of the slain by far surpassed that of the soldiers who immolated them to their vengeance, and that the mountains near the Jordan in moans reëchoed the frightful sounds that issued from the temple.

The imagination turns with disgust from these horrible pictures, and can scarcely, amidst the carnage, contemplate the touching image of the Christians of Jerusalem, whose chains the Crusaders had broken. They flocked from all parts to meet the conquerors; they shared with them all the provisions they had been able to steal from the Saracens; and with them offered up thanks to God for having granted such a triumph to the arms of the Christians. Peter the Hermit, who, five years before, had promised to arm the West for the deliverance of the Christians of Jerusalem, must have profoundly enjoyed the spectacle of their gratitude and exultation. Amidst all the Crusaders, they appeared only to see him; they recalled his words and his promises; it was to him they addressed their songs of praise; it was him they proclaimed their liberator. They related to him the evils they had suffered during his absence; they could scarcely believe what was passing before them; and, in their enthusiasm, they expressed astonishment that God should thus have employed only a single man to stir up so many nations, and to effect such prodigies.

The sight of the brethren they had delivered, no doubt recalled to the minds of the pilgrims that they were come for the purpose of adoring the tomb of Christ; and the pious Godfrey, who had abstained from carnage after the victory, quitted his companions, and, followed by three attendants, repaired without arms and barefooted to the church of the Holy Sepulchre.[180] The news of this act of devotion was soon spread through the Christian army, and immediately all vengeance and all fury were at an end; the Crusaders, casting away their bloody vestments, made the city resound with their groans and their sobs, and, conducted by the clergy, marched together, with their feet bare and their heads uncovered, towards the church of the Resurrection.

When the Christian army was thus assembled on Calvary, night began to fall; silence reigned over the public places and around the ramparts;[181] nothing was heard in the holy city but hymns of penitence and these words of Isaiah, “You who love Jerusalem, rejoice with her.” The Crusaders exhibited a devotion so animated and so tender, that it might have been said, according to the remark of a modern historian,[182] that these men who had just taken a city by assault, and had committed a horrible carnage, had come forth from a long retirement and a profound meditation upon our mysteries. These inexplicable contrasts are often to be observed in the history of the crusades. Some writers have believed that they found in them a pretext to accuse the Christian religion itself, whilst others, not less blind or passionate, have endeavoured to palliate the deplorable excesses of fanaticism; the impartial historian contents himself with relating them, and mourns in silence over the weaknesses of human nature.

The pious fervour of the Christians only suspended the scenes of carnage. The policy of some of the leaders might make them believe that it was necessary to inspire the Saracens with as much dread as possible; they thought, perhaps also, that if they released the men who had defended Jerusalem, they should have to fight them over again, and that it was not prudent for them, in a distant country and surrounded by enemies, to undertake the charge of prisoners whose number by far surpassed that of their own soldiers. The approach of the Egyptian army likewise was announced, and the dread of a new danger closed their hearts against pity. In their council, a sentence of death was decreed against all the Mussulmans that remained in the city.[183]

Fanaticism but too well seconded this barbarous policy. All the enemies whom humanity or the fatigue of carnage had at first spared, and even such as had been saved in hopes of a rich ransom, were slaughtered. They compelled the Saracens to cast themselves from the tops of the towers and the houses; they made them perish in the midst of flames; they dragged them from their subterranean concealments to the public places, and there immolated them upon heaps of dead. Neither the tears of women nor the cries of infants, not even the sight of the very place where Christ had pardoned his executioners, could soften the hearts of the angry conquerors. The carnage was so great that, according to the report of Albert d’Aix, bodies were seen heaped up, not only in the palaces, the temples, and the streets, but even in the most retired and solitary places. Such was the delirium of vengeance and fanaticism, that these scenes appear not to have been revolting to the eyes of those who beheld them. The contemporary historians describe them without thinking of excusing them, and amidst recitals of the most disgusting details, never allow a single expression of horror or pity to escape them.[184]

The few Crusaders who had preserved any feelings of humanity had not the power to check the fury of an army who thought they were avenging outraged religion. Three hundred Saracens, who had taken refuge on the platform of the mosque of Omar, were immolated on the day after the conquest, in spite of the prayers of Tancred, who had sent them his standard as a safeguard, and was indignant to find that so little respect was paid to the laws of honour and chivalry.[185] The Saracens who had retreated to the fortress of David were almost the only persons that escaped death. Raymond accepted their capitulation, and had the good fortune and the glory to have it executed; but this act of humanity appeared so strange to the greater part of the Crusaders, that they expressed less admiration for the generosity of the count de St. Gilles than contempt for his avarice.[186]

The carnage did not cease until the end of a week. Such of the Saracens as had been able to elude pursuit during this period were reserved for the service of the army. The Oriental and Latin historians agree in stating the number of the Mussulmans slain in Jerusalem to have been more than seventy thousand. The Jews met with no more mercy than the Saracens. The soldiers set fire to the synagogue in which they had taken refuge, and all perished in the flames.

But it began to be feared that the bodies heaped up in the public places, and the blood which had flooded the mosques and the streets might give rise to pestilential diseases, and the leaders gave orders that the streets should be cleansed, and that a spectacle which, now fury and fanaticism were satisfied, must have been odious to them, should be removed from before their eyes. Some Mussulman prisoners, who had only escaped the sword of the conquerors to fall into a horrible state of slavery, were ordered to bury the disfigured bodies of their friends and brothers. “They wept,” says Robert the Monk,[187] “and transported the carcases out of Jerusalem.” They were assisted in this melancholy duty by the soldiers of Raymond, who, having entered last into the city, had not had a large share of the plunder, and sought to increase it by a close search of the bodies of the Saracens.

The city of Jerusalem soon presented a new spectacle. In the course of a few days only it had changed its inhabitants, laws, and religion. Before the last assault it had been agreed, according to the custom of the Crusaders in their conquests, that every warrior should remain master and possessor of the house or edifice in which he should present himself first. A cross, a buckler, or any other mark placed upon a door, was, for every one of the conquerors, a good title of possession. This right of property was respected by every soldier, however greedy of plunder, and the greatest order soon reigned in a city but recently given up to all the horrors of war. The victory enriched the greater part of the Crusaders. The conquerors shared the provisions and the riches they had found, and such as had not been fortunate in the pillage had no cause to complain of their companions. A part of the treasures was employed in assisting the poor, in supporting orphans, and in decorating the altars they had freed from the Mussulmans.

Tancred had as his share all the wealth found in the mosque of Omar. Among these riches were twenty candelabra of gold, a hundred and twenty of silver, a large lamp,[188] and many other ornaments of the same metals. This booty was so considerable, that it would have been enough, say the historians, to load six chariots, and employed Tancred two days in removing it from the mosque. The Italian hero gave up a portion of this to his soldiers and another to Godfrey, to whose service he had attached himself. He distributed abundance of alms, and placed fifty gold marks in the hands of the Latin clergy for the reëstablishment and the decoration of the churches.

But the Crusaders soon turned their eyes from the treasures which victory had bestowed upon them to admire a conquest much more precious in their estimation; this was the true cross, which had been borne away from Jerusalem by Cosroës and brought back again by Heraclius. The Christians shut up in the city had concealed it from the Saracens during the siege. The sight of it excited the most lively emotions in the pilgrims. “Of this thing,” says an old chronicle, “the Christians were as much delighted as if they had seen the body of Christ hung thereupon.” It was borne in triumph through the streets of Jerusalem, and then replaced in the church of the Resurrection.

Ten days after their victory the Crusaders employed themselves in restoring the throne of David and Solomon, and in placing upon it a leader who might preserve and maintain a conquest that the Christians had made at the expense of so much blood. The council of the princes being assembled, one of the leaders ’history names the count of Flanders) arose in the midst of them, and spoke in these terms:[189] “Brothers and companions; we are met to treat of an affair of the greatest importance; never did we stand in greater need of the counsels of wisdom and the inspirations of heaven. In ordinary times it is desirable that authority should be in the hands of the most able; with how much greater reason then ought we to seek for the man most worthy to govern this kingdom, still in a great measure in the power of the barbarians. Already we are told that the Egyptians threaten this city, for which we are about to choose a master. The greater part of the Christian warriors are impatient to return to their country, and to abandon to others the care of defending their conquests. The new people then who are going to inhabit this land will have in their neighbourhood no other Christian nations to assist them in their need or console them in their disgraces. Their enemies are near them, their allies are beyond the seas. The king we shall give them will be their only support amidst the perils which will surround them. He then who is called upon to govern this country must have all the qualities necessary to maintain his position with glory; he must unite with the bravery natural to the Franks, temperance, good faith, and humanity; for you know by such virtues great principalities are acquired and kept as well as by arms. Let us not forget, brothers and companions, that our object to-day is not so much to elect a king for Jerusalem, as to bestow upon it a faithful guardian. He whom we shall choose as leader must be as a father to all those who have quitted their country and their families for the service of Jesus Christ and the defence of the holy places. He must make virtue flourish in this land where God himself has given the model of it; he must win the infidels to the Christian religion, accustom them to our manners, and teach them to bless our laws. If you elect one who is not worthy, you will destroy your own work, and will bring ruin on the Christian name in this country. I have no need to recall to your minds the exploits or the labours which have placed us in possession of this territory; I will not remind you of the dearest wishes of our brothers who have remained in the West. What would be their sorrow, what would be ours, if, on our return to Europe, we should hear that the public good had been neglected and betrayed, or religion abolished in these places where we have restored its altars? Many would then not fail to attribute to fortune, and not to virtue, the great things we have done, whilst the evils which this kingdom would undergo would pass in the eyes of men as the fruit of our imprudence.

“Do not believe, however, brothers and companions, that I speak thus because I am ambitious of royalty, and that I am seeking your favour or suffrages. No; I have not sufficient presumption to aspire to such an honour; I take Heaven and men to witness, that even if you should offer me the crown, I would not accept it, being resolved to return to my own country. That which I have said to you is but for the good and glory of all. For the rest, I supplicate you to receive this advice as I give it to you, with affection, frankness, and loyalty, and to elect for king him who by his virtue shall be most capable of preserving and extending this kingdom, to which are attached both the honour of your arms and the cause of Jesus Christ.”

Scarcely had the count of Flanders ceased speaking, than all the other leaders gave him the warmest praise for his prudence and good feelings. Most of them even thought of offering him the honour he had declined, for he who in such circumstances refuses a crown, always appears to be the most worthy of it; but Robert had expressed himself with frankness and good faith; he longed to return to Europe, and was satisfied with the honour of bearing the title of “the Son of St. George,” which his exploits in the holy war had obtained for him.

Among the leaders who could be called upon to reign over Jerusalem, we must place in the first rank Godfrey, Raymond, the duke of Normandy, and Tancred. The only object of Tancred was glory in arms, and he placed the title of knight far above that of king. The duke of Normandy, likewise, had evinced more bravery than ambition; after having disdained the kingdom of England, he was not likely to be anxious to gain that of Jerusalem. If we may believe an English historian,[190] he might have obtained the suffrages of his companions; but he refused the throne of David from indolence, which so irritated God against him, says the same author, that nothing afterwards prospered with him during the remainder of his life. The count of Thoulouse had taken an oath never to return to Europe, but his companions dreaded his obstinate and ambitious character; and although several authors have said that he refused to ascend the throne on account of his great age, everything leads us to believe that the Christians feared to have him for king.

The opinions of the leaders and the army were various and uncertain. The clergy insisted that a patriarch should be named before they elected a king; the princes were not at all agreed among themselves, and of the body of the Crusaders, some would have wished to choose him whom they had followed through the holy war, whilst others, like the Provençals, who had no attachment for the count of St. Gilles, and were not desirous of remaining in Asia, gave all their efforts to keep the crown of Jerusalem from the prince under whose colours they served.

To terminate the debate, it was decided that the choice should be made by a special council of ten of the most highly respected men of the army. Prayers, fasts, and alms were commanded, in order to propitiate Heaven to guide them in the nomination they were about to make. They who were called upon to choose the king swore, in the presence of the whole Christian army, not to listen to any interest or any private affection, but to decree the crown to wisdom and virtue. These electors, whose names history has not preserved, gave the utmost attention to ascertain the opinion of the army upon the merits of each of the leaders. William of Tyre relates that they went so far as even to interrogate the familiar associates and servants of all who had any pretensions to the crown, and that they made them take an oath to reveal all they knew of the manners, characters, and secret propensities of their masters. The servants of Godfrey of Bouillon gave the most striking evidence of his mildness and humanity, but above all of his exemplary devotion.

To add to this honourable testimony, the exploits of the duke of Lorraine during the holy war were dwelt upon. They remembered that at the siege of Nice he had killed the most redoubtable of the Saracens; that he had split from shoulder to haunch a giant on the bridge of Antioch, and that in Asia Minor he had exposed his life to save that of a soldier who was overpowered by a bear. Many other feats of bravery were related of him, which in the minds of the Crusaders placed him above all the other competitors.[191]

Godfrey was the leader decidedly in possession of the suffrages of the majority of the army and the people; and that he might not want anything in the expression of their wishes for his success, revelations were announced that God himself declared in his favour. “Many years before the crusade,” says Albert d’Aix, “a soldier named Hezelon de Kintzveiler, had fallen asleep in a forest, and, being conveyed in a dream to the summit of Sinai, he had seen Godfrey, covered with glory, and accompanied by two celestial messengers, who announced to him that God had chosen him, as he had done Moses, to be the conductor and chief of his people.” A clerk, Giselbert ’a canon of St. Mary, of Aix la Chapelle), related a vision not less miraculous. The duke of Lorraine had appeared to him seated upon the throne even of the sun. The birds of heaven from all climates and all points of the horizon, flew around him in numberless troops. The recital of this apparition was accompanied by many other circumstances which we have not space to repeat; but the Crusaders, who were much struck with them, did not fail to see in the throne of the sun a faithful image of that of Jerusalem, and in the birds of heaven the multitude of pilgrims who would come from all countries to do honour to the glorious reign of Godfrey.[192]

These visions, which are despised in an enlightened age, had great power over the Christian army, and did not contribute less than the personal merit of the prince of Bouillon to draw upon him the attention of all. In this disposition of the general mind, the Crusaders looked with impatience for the decision of the council which was to give a king to Jerusalem.

At length the electors, after mature deliberations, and an anxious inquiry for all necessary information, proclaimed the name of Grodfrey. This nomination caused the most lively joy throughout the Christian army, and was considered as an inspiration of heaven. By the authority given to him, Godfrey became the depositary of the dearest interests of the Crusaders. Every one among them had in some sort confided his own glory to him, by leaving him the care of watching over and guiding their conquests. They conducted him in triumph to the church of the Holy Sepulchre, where he took the oath to respect the laws of honour and justice. He refused the diadem and the insignia of royalty, saying that he would never accept a crown of gold in a city in which the Saviour of the world had been crowned with thorns. He contented himself with the modest title of defender and baron of the Holy Sepulchre. It has been pretended that in this he only acted in obedience to the insinuations of the clergy, who were afraid of seeing pride seated upon a throne over which the spirit of Christ ought to reign. However this may be, Godfrey richly merited by his virtues the title of king which history has given him, and which was far more due to him than the name of kingdom was to the feeble states he had to govern.

As the war had the triumph of religion for its object, the clergy employed themselves in naming bishops, consecrating churches, and sending pastors to all the cities that had submitted to the power of the Christians. Piety and disinterestedness ought to have presided in the choice of the ministers of Christ; but since the death of the virtuous Adhemar, the greater part of the Latin ecclesiastics, no longer restrained by his example, had forgotten the humility and simplicity of their profession. If William of Tyre may be believed, address and intrigue openly obtained the suffrages, and the spirit of the religion which had just given Jerusalem a good king, could not succeed in bestowing upon it prelates respectable either for their wisdom or their virtues. The clergy, who had ventured to disturb the election of the king by their intrigues, carried their pretensions as high as the sovereignty of the city, and claimed with arrogance the greatest part in the division of the booty won from the infidels.[193] The Greek priests, in spite of their rights, were sacrificed to the ambition of the Roman clergy, as they had been in the city of Antioch. The chaplain of the duke of Normandy caused himself to be proposed as patriarch of Jerusalem, in the place of Simeon, who had summoned the warriors from the West. Simeon was still in the isle of Cyprus, from whence he had continually sent provisions to the Crusaders during the siege. He died at the moment in which the Latin ecclesiastics were quarrelling for his spoils, and his death came very opportunely to excuse their injustice and ingratitude. Arnold, whose morals were more than suspected, and whose conduct has merited the censure of the gravest historians, was nominated pastor of the church of Jerusalem.

In the meanwhile fame had proclaimed the conquest of the holy city throughout all the neighbouring countries. In all the churches founded by the Crusaders in their passage, thanks were offered up to God for a victory which must necessarily cause the triumph of the worship and the laws of Christ in the East. The Christians of Antioch, Edessa, and Tarsus, with those who inhabited Cilicia, Cappadocia, Syria, and Mesopotamia, came in crowds to Jerusalem, some for the purpose of fixing their abode there, others to visit the holy places.

Whilst the faithful were rejoicing over their conquest, the Mussulmans gave themselves up to despair. The few who had escaped from the swords of the Crusaders spread consternation wherever they went. The historians Abul-Mahacam, Elmacin, and Aboul-Feda have described the desolation which reigned at Bagdad. Zeimeddin, cadhi of Damascus, tore out his own beard in the presence of the Caliph. The whole divan shed tears whilst listening to the recital of the misfortunes of Jerusalem. Fasts and prayers were ordered to mitigate the anger of heaven. The Imans and poets deplored in pathetic verses and discourses the fate of the Mussulmans who had become slaves of the Christians. “What blood,” said they, “has not flowed? What disasters[194] have not befallen the true believers? Women have been obliged to fly, concealing their faces; children have fallen under the swords of the conquerors; and there remains no other asylum for our brothers, so lately masters of Syria, but the backs of their camels, or the entrails of the vultures.”

The caliph of Bagdad, deprived of his authority, had nothing to offer but his prayers and tears for the cause of the Mussulmans. The victories of the Christians had inflicted a mortal blow upon the dynasty of the Seldjoucides. The sultan of Persia, retired to the extremity of Coraçan, was occupied in appeasing civil wars, and scarcely gave a thought to the emirs of Syria, who had shaken off his authority, and shared his spoils amongst them. The greater part of the emirs were quarrelling among themselves for the cities and provinces threatened by the warriors of the West. The discords which accompany the fall of empires had everywhere sown trouble and division among the infidels; but such was their grief when they learnt the conquest of Jerusalem by the Christians, that they united in weeping together over the outrages committed upon the religion of Mahomet. The Turks of Syria, and the inhabitants of Damascus and Bagdad placed their last hope in the caliph of Cairo, whom they had so long considered an enemy to the prophet, and came in crowds to join the Egyptian army which was advancing towards Ascalon.

At Jerusalem they soon learnt that this army had reached Gaza, in the ancient country of the Philistines. Godfrey immediately caused his brother Eustace and Tancred, who had quitted the city to go and take possession of Naplouse, to be informed of this. He pressed the other leaders of the crusade to unite with him and march to meet the Saracens. The duke of Normandy at first refused to follow him, alleging that his vow was accomplished; and the count of Thoulouse, who had been forced to give up to the king the fortress of David, which he pretended belonged to him by right of conquest, rejected with haughtiness the prayers of Godfrey, and treated the news of the approach of the Saracens as a fable.

The refusal of the duke of Normandy and Raymond did not prevent Godfrey from commencing his march, followed by Tancred, the count of Flanders, and several other leaders. They learnt on their route that the emir Afdhal, the same that had taken Jerusalem from the Turks, commanded the army of the infidels. This general had under his standard an almost countless multitude of Mussulmans, from the banks of the Tigris and the Nile, the shores of the Red Sea, and the extremities of Ethiopia. A fleet had sailed from the ports of Alexandria and Damietta, laden with all sorts of provisions, and the machines necessary for the siege of Jerusalem.

Afdhal had taken a solemn oath before the caliph to annihilate for ever the power of the Crusaders in Asia, and to entirely destroy Calvary, the tomb of Christ, and all the monuments revered by the Christians.

The march and the intentions of Afdhal soon conveyed terror to Jerusalem. Raymond and the duke of Normandy were again pressed to join the Christian army. Women, old men, and priests with tears conjured the two princes to have pity on the holy city they had delivered. They represented to them the fatal consequences of their inaction, which rendered all the labours of the Crusaders useless, and closed for ever the doors of the East against pilgrims. The voices of all the nations of the West, they told them, would be raised against them, and the blood of the Christians would be on their heads. At last Robert and Raymond allowed themselves to be prevailed upon, and marched with their troops to join Godfrey. The new patriarch desired to follow them, bearing with him the wood of the true cross, the sight of which, like that of the holy lance, would redouble the enthusiasm and the bravery of the Crusaders.

All the Christians in a condition to bear arms quitted Jerusalem to go and fight the Mussulmans. There only remained in the holy city the women, the sick, and a part of the clergy, who, having Peter the Hermit at their head, addressed night and day prayers to Heaven to obtain the triumph of the defenders of the holy places, and the last defeat of the enemies of Christ.

The Christian army, which had at first assembled at Ramla, advanced across a sandy country, and encamped on the banks of the torrent of Sorex, in the plain of Saphœa, or Serfend, situated between Jaffa and Ascalon. The day after the Christians arrived on this plain, they perceived at a distance, towards seven o’clock in the evening, a vast multitude, which they took for the army of the enemy. Two hundred horsemen, who were sent out to reconnoitre, soon returned, however, with the agreeable intelligence that the multitude they had taken for the Egyptian army was nothing but a drove of oxen and camels. So rich a booty at first awakened the avidity of the soldiers, but the prudent Godfrey, who saw nothing in this circumstance but a stratagem of the enemy to throw the Christian army in disorder, forbade his soldiers to leave their ranks. The other leaders, after his example, endeavoured to restrain the men under their command, and all remained firm beneath their standards.

The Crusaders learned from some prisoners they had made, that the enemy were encamped at three leagues from them, and that they were preparing to come and attack the Christian army. Upon receiving this advice, the leaders made their dispositions to receive the infidels. The army was drawn up in nine divisions, and formed a sort of square battalion, so as to be able at need, to face the enemy at all points. The Crusaders passed the night under arms. On the following morning ’it was the eve of the Assumption) the heralds announced by sound of trumpet that they were about to give battle to the infidels. At break of day the Crusaders received the benediction of the patriarch of Jerusalem. The wood of the true cross was carried through the ranks, and shown to the soldiers as a certain pledge of victory. The leaders then gave the signal, all the ensigns were unfurled, and the army marched to meet the Saracens.

The nearer the Christians approached the army of Egypt, the more were they filled with confidence and hope. Their drums, cymbals, hymns, and war-songs animated them to the fight. They marched towards the enemy, says Albert d’Aix, as to a joyous feast. An emir of Palestine, who followed the army as an auxiliary, could not sufficiently admire, if we may believe historians, this joy of the soldiers of the cross at the approach of danger. He came to express his surprise to the king of Jerusalem, and swore before him to embrace a religion which could give so much strength and bravery to its defenders.

The Christians soon arrived in the plain of Ascalon. This immense plain is bounded on the east and south by mountains, and extends on the west to the sea. On the coast was situated the city of Ascalon, over which the Mussulman standards floated. At the extremity of the plain the army of Egypt was drawn up, with the sea and the mountains behind it. The Crusaders advanced in two lines; the count of Thoulouse commanded the right wing, the two Roberts and Tancred were placed at the left. Godfrey commanded a body of reserve, which was at the same time to keep the garrison of Ascalon in check and fight with the army of Egypt.

Whilst the Christian army was thus marching in battle array, the drove of oxen and camels that they had met on their route came to their rear, and followed all their movements. The confused noise of these animals, mingled with the sound of the drums and trumpets, and the clouds of dust which arose under their steps, caused them to be taken for squadrons of horse, and the Mussulmans were persuaded that the Christian army was more numerous than their own. They were drawn up in two lines, as the Crusaders were. The Turks from Syria and Bagdad were on the right; the Moors and Egyptians on the left; the emir Afdhal occupied the centre with the main body of the Egyptian forces. This army covered an immense space, and, says Foulcher de Chartres, like a stag who projects his branching horns, it extended its wings to envelop the Christians; but a sudden terror rendered it motionless.

In vain the emir endeavoured to rouse the courage of his soldiers. They fancied that millions of Crusaders had arrived from the West; they forgot both their oaths and their threats, and only remembered the fate of the Mussulmans immolated after the conquest of Jerusalem.

Before engaging, all the Crusaders, fully armed, fell on their knees to implore the protection of Heaven; and rising full of ardour and hope, marched against the Saracens. If the most truthful historians are to be believed, they had not more than fifteen thousand foot and five thousand horse. When they had arrived within bow-shot, the foot-soldiers made several discharges of javelins, at the same time the cavalry, increasing their speed, precipitated themselves upon the enemy’s ranks. At this first charge the duke of Normandy, the count of Flanders, and Tancred broke through the centre of the Egyptians. Duke Robert, followed by his bravest knights, penetrated to the place where Afdhal fought, and got possession of the great standard of the infidels. The foot-soldiers followed the horse into the mêlée, and cast away their bows and javelins to make use of sword and lance, arms much more terrible to the Mussulmans.

On all sides the Saracens were thrown into disorder. Towards the end of the battle Godfrey had had to contend with a troop of Ethiopians, who bent one knee to the ground to launch their javelins, and then, springing up, rushed upon the Crusaders with long flails armed with balls of iron. This redoubtable battalion could not alone resist the lances of the Christians, and were soon dispersed. An invincible terror seemed to paralyze the arms of the Mussulmans. Whilst the king of Jerusalem was pursuing the Ethiopians and Moors who fled towards the mountains in the vicinity of the field of battle, the Syrians and the Arabs, who fought in the left wing, were broken by the count of Thoulouse. Hotly pressed by the conquerors, a great number of them precipitated themselves into the sea, and perished in the waves; others sought an asylum in the city of Ascalon, and such was their eagerness, and so numerous were they, that two thousand were crushed to death upon the drawbridge. Amidst the general rout, Afdhal was on the point of falling into the hands of the conquerors; and, leaving his sword upon the field of battle, had great difficulty in gaining Ascalon. Historians add, that when, from the walls of that city, he contemplated the destruction of his army, he shed a torrent of tears. In his despair, he cursed Jerusalem, the cause of all his evils, and blasphemed Mahomet, whom he accused of having abandoned his servants and disciples.

This was a day of terror and death for the Mussulmans. From the beginning of the battle, the infidels, who had previously burned with a thirst of vengeance, appeared to have no purpose but to escape by flight from an enemy who granted no mercy to the conquered. In their mortal fear, they let fall their arms, and suffered themselves to be slaughtered without offering the least resistance. Their terrified crowd stood motionless on the field of battle, and the sword, to employ the expression of a contemporary,[195] mowed them down like the grass of the field. Some cast themselves on the ground, and concealed themselves among heaps of slain; whilst others plunged into caverns, or scrambled up rocks or trees, where they were shot down with arrows, like birds.[196] Afdhal, who did not believe himself to be in safety in Ascalon, embarked on board a fleet which had arrived from Egypt. Towards the middle of the contest, all the Egyptian vessels which were near the shore spread their sails, and gained the open sea. From that moment no hope of safety remained for the scattered army of these infidels, who were, as they had said, to deliver the East, and whose multitude was so great, that, according to the expression of old historians, God alone knew the number of them.[197]

Such was this battle, whose prodigies poetry has taken delight in celebrating, but which was, in reality, nothing but an easy victory for the Christians, in which fanaticism even had not the least share. On this day the presence of celestial legions did not animate the battalions of the Crusaders, and the martyrs St. George and St. Demetrius, whom they always believed they saw in great perils, had no occasion to be present in this fight. The Christians must have learnt from this rencontre that their new adversaries were much less to be dreaded than the Turks. The Egyptian army was composed of many different nations, which were divided among themselves; the greater part of the Mussulman troops had been levied in haste, and fought for the first time. The army of the Crusaders, on the contrary, had been proved by many victories, and their leaders were as skilful as they were brave. The bold resolution that Godfrey had taken of going to meet the enemy, raised the confidence of the soldiers, and assisted in creating fear and disorder among the Egyptians.[198]

If William of Tyre and Robert the Monk may be believed, the Christians did not lose a single horseman. They might have made themselves masters of Ascalon, but want of union among the leaders prevented their taking due advantage of their victory.[199]

After the defeat of the enemy, Raymond had sent a messenger into the place to summon the garrison to surrender.[200] He wished to plant his standard on the walls of the city, and retain the conquest for himself. On the other hand, Godfrey claimed the possession of it and maintained that Ascalon ought to form part of the kingdom of Jerusalem. The debates became very warm. The count of Thoulouse, who found all the leaders of the Christian army against him, listened to nothing but the dictates of his blind anger; he recommended the garrison to defend themselves, and set forward with his troops to return to Jerusalem. Godfrey, after the desertion of Raymond, in vain attempted to besiege the city. The greater part of the Crusaders, impatient to return to their own country, abandoned his colours; and, after making the inhabitants and garrison of Antioch pay him a considerable sum, he was obliged to follow them to Jerusalem.

The quarrel which was begun between Raymond and Godfrey before Ascalon was renewed a few days after before the city of Arsouf, situated near the sea, twelve miles to the north of Ramla. The count of St. Gilles, who marched first with his troops, undertook to besiege this place, but as he met with an obstinate resistance, he abandoned the siege, and continued his march, after having warned the garrison that they had nothing to fear from the king of Jerusalem. A short time after, Godfrey having besieged the city, found the Saracens determined to defend themselves, and as he learnt that their resistance was the fruit of the counsels of Raymond, he could not restrain his anger, but resolved to avenge this affront in the blood of his rival. He marched with his ensigns displayed, against the count de St. Gilles, who, on his part, was willing to meet him, and prepared for the conflict. The Christians were on the point of proceeding to extremities, when the two Roberts and Tancred threw themselves between Raymond and Godfrey, and used their utmost exertions to appease them. After a long altercation, the two rivals, overcome by the prayers of the other chiefs, embraced in the presence of their soldiers, who had taken part in their animosity.

The reconciliation was sincere on both sides. The pious Godfrey, says Albert d’Aix, conjured his companions to forget the dissension that had broken out among the Christian warriors, and implored them, with tears in his eyes, to remember that they had together delivered the holy tomb, that they were all brothers in Christ, and that concord was still necessary to defend Jerusalem. When the inhabitants of Arsouf learnt that the leaders of the Christian army were reconciled, they repented of their resistance, and engaged to pay a tribute to Godfrey.[201]

After having received and given hostages as a guarantee of the treaty, Godfrey, followed by all the other chiefs, quitted the territory of Arsouf, to return to Jerusalem. The Christian army was loaded with an immense booty. It marched, followed by the droves of cattle it had met on the banks of the Sorec, and brought back all the riches found in the camp of the infidels. As they approached Jerusalem, all the trumpets were sounded, and their victorious flags were unfurled. A crowd of pilgrims, who came out to meet them, filled the air with their songs of gladness; these lively expressions of joy mingled with the hymns of the priests; the echoes, says Robert the Monk, repeated the sounds of the warlike instruments and the acclamations of the Christians, and appeared to offer an application of these words of Isaiah: “The mountains and the hills shall sing before you the praises of the Lord.” The Crusaders entered the holy city in triumph. The great standard and the sword of the sultan were suspended on the columns of the church of the Holy Sepulchre. All the pilgrims, assembled in the very places which the emir Afdhal had sworn utterly to destroy, returned thanks to Heaven for a victory which crowned all their labours.

The victory of Ascalon was the last of this crusade. At length, liberated from their vows, after four years of toils and dangers, the princes of the crusade quitted Jerusalem, whose sole means of defence now were three hundred knights, the wisdom of Godfrey, and the sword of Tancred, who had resolved to end his days in Asia. Some embarked on the Mediterranean, whilst others marched across Syria and Asia Minor. They arrived in the West bearing palm branches in their hands, and singing hymns of triumph on their way. Their return was considered as a miracle, a sort of resurrection, and their presence was everywhere looked upon as a subject of edification and enthusiasm. Most of them had been ruined by the holy war; but they brought back from the East precious relics, which were in the eyes of the faithful a veritable treasure.[202] Their hearers were never tired of listening to the recital of their labours and exploits. Tears, doubtless, mingled with the transports of admiration and joy when they spoke of their numerous companions whom death had swept away in Asia. There was not a family that had not to weep a defender of the cross, or did not glorify itself with having a martyr in heaven. Ancient chronicles have celebrated the heroic devotion of Ida, countess of Hainault, who made the voyage to the East, and braved all dangers in search of her husband. Sent by the Crusaders to Alexius, the count of Hainault, with all the persons of his suite, had disappeared, without any one being able to say what had been their fate. Some said they were still prisoners among the Turks, others that they were killed. Ida sought through many countries of Asia, but returned to France without having obtained any tidings of her husband.[203]

The count of Thoulouse, who had sworn never to return to the West, went to Constantinople, where the emperor received him with distinction, and gave him the city of Laodicea. Raymond of Orange determined to share the destiny of the count of Thoulouse, and finish his days in the East. Among the knights, companions of Raymond de St. Gilles, who returned to their own country, we must not forget Stephen and Peter de Salviac de Viel Castel, whom their age holds up as models of brotherly love. Stephen and Peter de Salviac were twins, and the tenderest affection united them from their infancy. Peter assumed the cross at the council of Clermont, and Stephen, although married, and the father of several children, determined to follow his brother into Asia, and share with him the perils of so long a voyage. In all battles they were seen fighting side by side, and they together were present at the sieges of Nice, Antioch, and Jerusalem. A short time after their return to Le Quercy, they both died in the same week, and were buried in the same tomb. On their tomb may still be read an epitaph which has transmitted to us the remembrance of their exploits and of their touching affection. Gaston de Béarn returned with them into Europe; but some years after, having re-entered upon his estates, he again took up arms against the infidels, and died in Spain, fighting against the Moors.

Peter the Hermit, on his return to his country, concealed himself from the eager curiosity of the faithful, and shut himself up in a monastery he had founded at Huy.[204] He lived there in humility and penitence, and was buried among the cenobites he had edified by his virtues. Eustace, the brother of Godfrey and Baldwin, returned to take possession of the moderate inheritance of the family, and gave no further trouble to fame by his exploits. Alain Fergent, duke of Brittany, and Robert, count of Flanders, returned to their states, repaired the evils caused by their absence, and died regretted by their subjects.[205]

The duke of Normandy was less fortunate than his companions. The sight of the holy places, or the long series of labours and evils he had endured in the cause of religion, had had no effect upon his indolent, undecided character. On his return from the Holy Land, he passed through Italy, where he fell in love with Sibylla, the daughter of the count of Conversana, and allowed his passion to detain him from his duchy more than a year. By this delay he lost the opportunity of ascending the throne of England, to which, after the death of his brother William Rufus, his birth, and the great renown he had acquired in the crusade, gave him undoubted right. When at length he returned to Normandy, he was received with transports of admiration and joy; but upon resuming the reins of government, he showed nothing but weakness; he gave himself up entirely to debauchery, and surrounded himself by none but dissipated, greedy courtiers, who drew upon him the hatred of his subjects. His brother, Henry I., who had succeeded William Rufus, took advantage of the degraded condition of Robert, and the contempt into which he was fallen, to take possession of Normandy. At the end of a battle this unfortunate prince was made prisoner by his brother, who led him in triumph to England, and caused him to be confined in the castle of Cardiff, in the province of Glamorgan. The remembrance of his exploits in the Holy Land had no effect in mitigating his misfortunes. After twenty-eight years of captivity, he died forgotten by his subjects, his allies, and the ancient companions of his glory.

The return of the Crusaders, and the account of their conquests, excited great enthusiasm, and renewed the eagerness for crusades and pilgrimages among the nations of the West. They were not now affected by the passion for delivering the holy places, but by that of visiting and defending them. Europe exhibited a second time the scenes which had followed the council of Clermont; new discourses were heard, and fresh miracles related. Cities, lands, and castles were again offered for sale. He who preferred repose and his country to the glory of the holy pilgrimage passed for a very lukewarm Christian; whilst all who had quitted the standard of the crusade were objects of contempt in the eyes of the faithful, and were threatened with the thunders of the Church.

A general cry was raised against the brother of the king of France, who could not be pardoned for having abandoned the Christian army in a cowardly manner, and returned to Europe without seeing Jerusalem. Stephen, count of Chartres and Blois, was not allowed to remain in peace in his states and family; his people were astonished at his shameful desertion, and his wife Adela reproached him with having shrunk from the duties of religion and chivalry. These unfortunate princes, and all who had deserted the standards of the holy war, were obliged to quit France, and again take the route for Asia.

Many of the princes and barons who had not partaken of the enthusiasm of the first Crusaders, accused themselves of culpable indifference, and were drawn into the general movement. Among these latter was William IX., count of Poictiers, a relation of the emperor of Germany, and the most powerful vassal of the king of France. An amiable and intelligent prince, of not at all a warlike character, he left, to take up the pilgrim’s staff, a voluptuous and gallant court, which he had often delighted with his songs. He took upon him the cross at Limoges, and set out for the East, accompanied by a great number of his vassals, among whom were a vast many women and young girls.[206] His example was followed by William, count of Nevers, Orpin, count of Bourges, and Eude, duke of Burgundy. This last prince, perhaps, was influenced less by a desire of visiting Jerusalem than by his anxiety to recover the remains of his daughter Florine, who had been killed with Sweno in Asia Minor.

In Italy, Albert, count of Blandras, and Anselm, archbishop of Milan, placed themselves at the head of a countless multitude of pilgrims. Germany witnessed the departure of Conrad, marshal of the emperor Henry, Wolf IX., duke of Bavaria, the princess Ida, margravine of Austria; and a great number of lords and knights.

In this new expedition, as in the first, many of the Crusaders were led away by a desire for seeking adventures and visiting foreign countries. The brilliant success of Baldwin, Bohemond, and Godfrey aroused the ambition of the barons who had remained in Europe. Humbert II., count of Savoy, who set out for the Holy Land with Hugh the Great, made a donation to the monks of the Bourget, in order to obtain by their prayers, a fortunate establishment ’consulat) in his foreign voyage.[207] Many lords and knights made similar donations, whilst others founded monasteries and churches, setting out with the hope that God would bless their arms, and enable them to acquire rich principalities in the East.

The Crusaders assembled in several troops, and crossing the territories of the Hungarians and Bulgarians, united under the walls of Constantinople to the amount of two hundred thousand. These new pilgrims repeated the scenes of violence which had so seriously alarmed Alexius in the first expedition. The Greek emperor, faithful to his policy, opposed force by cunning; he flattered the vanity or the avarice of men he could not subdue, and paid very dearly for the insincere homage of the leaders of the crusade. He called Raymond to his assistance, who was then in his government of Laodicea. The presence and the persuasive discourses of the count of Thoulouse calmed the perturbed spirits of the Crusaders for a few days; and when they set forward on their march to Palestine, he was charged with conducting them across Asia Minor.

Among this confused mass of pilgrims[208] was a crowd of monks, old men, women, and young girls. They were without discipline, and marched without either precaution or order; but they had such perfect confidence in their arms, that they boasted, on leaving Constantinople, that they would go to Bagdad, and wrest Asia from the hands of the infidels. Their troop was divided into three bodies. At the head of the first were the duke of Burgundy, the count of Chartres, the archbishop of Milan, the count de Blandras, and Raymond de St. Gilles. “The archbishop of Milan,” says Albert d’Aix, “had brought into Asia an arm of St. Ambrose, with which he gave his benediction to the Crusaders. Raymond carried with him the lance that had been found at Antioch, to which he looked for new miracles.”

This first body, advancing towards Paphlagonia, took the city of Ancyra by assault, and laid siege to the fortress of Gangras. The garrison made a strong resistance, and forced the Christians to retire. They were in want of provisions, and entertained but little hopes of obtaining any in an enemy’s country; and whilst sinking into despondency they quite unexpectedly found themselves confronted by a Turkish army.

Kilidge Arslan, who had retired to Iconium, which became the capital of his states, after the taking of Nice, had got together the remains of his army, and recruited his strength. The sultan of Mossoul, that same Kerboghâ who, three years before, had lost the battle of Antioch, had joined the son of Soliman, and burned to meet the Christians again.

Although they both had a considerable number of troops, they contented themselves, at first, with harassing the Crusaders in their march. Sometimes the infidels got before the Christians, and ravaged the country and filled up the wells and the cisterns; whilst at others, they laid ambushes for them, and massacred all who strayed away from the main body. The Christian army had suffered much in crossing the defiles of Paphlagonia; and fatigue, hunger, and thirst had greatly weakened the strength of the pilgrims, when the sultans of Mossoul and Iconium determined upon giving them battle on the banks of the Halys.

Raymond, before the engagement, caused the miraculous lance to be carried through the Christian ranks; whilst the archbishop of Milan, followed by his clergy, exhibited the arm of St. Ambrose, and offered up prayers for victory; but neither the prayers of the clergy, nor the sight of the holy lance, nor even the prodigies of valour displayed by the Crusaders, could secure them a triumph. After a sanguinary conflict, they retired to their camp in great disorder. The Turks, who had met with a determined resistance, did not at first dare to follow up their victory, and satisfied themselves with remaining masters of the field of battle, and plundering the dead. During the night the Crusaders became aware of the extent of their loss. Raymond and the other terrified leaders sought safety in flight. As soon as their absence was discovered, terror and despair pervaded the camp of the Christians; every one attempted to fly, abandoning the baggage, the sick and the wounded. The roads were soon covered with soldiers, women, and children, who embarrassed each other in their confusion, and were ignorant where they might meet with the enemy, or where they should look for the Christian army. The Turks, rendered aware of their victory by the cries and groans which resounded from the neighbouring mountains, hastened to the camp of the Crusaders, massacring or making prisoners all they met. They then hotly pursued the fugitives, slaughtering them without mercy. The darkness of the night added to the horrors of this scene of carnage. The pilgrims lost themselves in their confusion, and seemed to seek the swords they wished to avoid; others stopped exhausted by fatigue, and awaited death as an end of their calamities.

When day appeared, the country was covered with the bloody, plundered bodies of the Christians. Raymond de St. Gilles, the duke of Burgundy, the count of Chartres, the count of Blandras, and some other leaders who had fled by different routes, met at Sinope, where they could scarcely gather around them a few thousand men, the remains of an army which had counted under its standards more than a hundred thousand pilgrims.

A second army of Crusaders, led by the count de Nevers and the count de Bourges, advanced as far as Ancyra, and directed its course towards Heraclea.[209] This army looked for traces of that which had preceded it; but instead of finding the Christians, they soon met with the victorious army of the Turks, which came to meet them, attacked them, and routed them. The count de Nevers with great difficulty found refuge in Germanicopolis. Taking for guides some Greek soldiers, he was pillaged and abandoned by them in a desert. He went through the greatest dangers for several days; and, exhausted with fatigue and covered with rags, he at length arrived at Antioch, whither the news of his defeat had preceded him.

A third troop, composed, according to the authors of the time, of more than a hundred and fifty thousand pilgrims, set out from Constantinople under the orders of the count of Poictiers, the duke of Bavaria, and Hugh de Vermandois. They took possession of Philomelium and Samalia, and marched across devastated provinces towards the city of Stankon, where they expected to unite themselves with the army of the count de Nevers. It was before this city that the pilgrims heard of the disasters and defeat of the Christian armies that had preceded them. They advanced towards Heraclea, and were not long in meeting with the army of Kilidge Arslan, which was waiting for them in an advantageous position. As they had no longer anything to hope for except from their courage, they did not seek to avoid the enemy. A rivulet which separated the Christians from the infidels, was the signal and the theatre of battle. The Crusaders, pressed by thirst, rushed towards it in crowds. The Turks immediately discharged upon them a shower of javelins and arrows. The two armies were soon completely engaged; but the Christians fighting in a confined and marshy place, could neither draw up their forces nor make use of the lance or the sword. Their bravery and their efforts were of no avail against the skilful manœuvres of Kerboghâ and Kilidge Arslan. The Turks penetrated the Christian army everywhere; the carnage was horrible; scarcely a thousand of the Crusaders escaped from either death or slavery. The margravine of Austria disappeared amidst the tumult of the battle. Some say that she was crushed under the feet of the horses; whilst others assert that she fell into the hands of the enemy, and went to live and die in the harem of the sultan of Mossoul. The greater part of the women and young girls that followed the Christian army met with the same fate. The count of Vermandois, pierced by two arrows, fled across Lycaonia, and arrived with a feeble escort at the city of Tarsus, where he died of his wounds.

The duke of Bavaria and the count of Poictiers, after having wandered a long time in deserts and forests, arrived almost naked at Antioch, in which city were assembled all the Crusaders that had escaped after their defeat. The leaders, by gathering together the wrecks of their troops, were able to form an army of ten thousand men, with which they marched to Jerusalem. Whilst coasting the Sea of Syria, they took the city of Tortosa, which they gave up to Raymond, although they had accused him, only a few days before, of having been the cause of all their disasters. Upon their arrival in Palestine, they found new enemies to contend with. The duke of Burgundy[210] and the count of Blois were killed in a battle fought near Ramla. Arpin, count de Berri,[211] fell alive into the hands of the Saracens, and died in slavery. The count de Blandras, the count of Savoy, William, count of Poictiers, the count de Nevers, and the duke of Bavaria only led a small number of their soldiers back to Europe.[212]

Such are the principal events of the first crusade, the commencement and the end of which were marked by the greatest disasters, and which deprived Europe of more than a million of men. When we reflect on the energies displayed and the forces employed in this expedition by the West, we are at first astonished that it did not succeed.

It has often been repeated, when speaking of this holy war, in which the East beheld an army of six hundred thousand men brought against it, “that Alexander conquered Asia with thirty thousand men.” It is more than probable that the Greeks who wrote the life of Alexander have diminished the number of his forces in order to heighten the splendour of his victories;[213] but, be that as it may, it must be admitted that the expedition of the Macedonian conqueror did not present the same dangers, or the same obstacles that the Crusaders had to encounter. The armies which left Greece for Asia had less to suffer from change of climate, or the length and difficulties of the voyage than those who came from the extremities of the West. The Macedonians, in their invasion of the East, had scarcely any nation to contend with but the Persians, an effeminate people, previously several times vanquished by the Greeks; whilst the Crusaders had to pass through a crowd of unknown, barbarous hordes, and when arrived in Asia, found, as enemies, several nations of conquerors.

The Greeks of Alexander’s expedition did not go into Asia to introduce new laws, or change the manners and religion of the people; they even adopted something of the costumes and usages of the Persians, which very much facilitated their conquests.[214] In the crusades, on the contrary, we behold two religions armed one against the other, which redoubled the hatred of the combatants, and forbade all approximation. As soon as the standard of Mahomet floated over a city, the Christians fled from it; whilst the cross of the Christians had the same effect upon the Mussulmans. As the greater part of the Mussulman cities which fell into the hands of the Christians were deserted, the latter were obliged to people the provinces they conquered, and exhaust their armies, to found, in some sort, colonies wherever their arms triumphed. If it be allowed that no wars are more sanguinary than religious wars, there are certainly none in which it is more difficult for a conqueror to extend or preserve his conquests. This is a very important observation, if we would appreciate the results of this crusade.

On all occasions where bravery alone was required, nothing can be comparable to the exploits of the Crusaders. When reduced to a small number of combatants, they triumphed no less over their enemies than when they consisted of vast armies. Forty thousand Christians obtained possession of Jerusalem, defended by a garrison of sixty thousand Saracens. There remained scarcely twenty thousand men under their standards, when they had to contend with all the forces of the East in the plains of Ascalon. If Alexander performed greater things, and particularly if he conquered a greater number of nations, it was because he commanded a disciplined army, of which he was the absolute leader. All his military and political operations were directed by one same mind and one same will. It was not thus in the army of the Crusaders, which was composed of many nations, and held within itself the fatal germs of license and disorder. The feudal anarchy with which Europe was then distracted followed the defenders of the cross into Asia, and that turbulent spirit of the knights, which constantly led them to have recourse to arms, was precisely that which checked and bounded their conquests.

When we think of their ever reviving discords, of the calamities which were the consequences of them, of that excess of bravery that made them commit so many faults, of that want of foresight which they almost always evinced on the eve of great dangers, one thing alone surprises us, and that is, that they did not entirely fail in their enterprise.

Philosophy may, with some justice, oppose its reasonings to the marvels of this war; but she will find in it an abundant source of profound and new observations. In it she will see man with his inexplicable contrasts; in it she will meet with the passions, with all that characterizes them, with all they possess that most plainly exhibits the human heart and mind. Reason, without doubt, must deplore the disorders, the excesses, and the delirium of the Crusaders; but such is human weakness, that we always interest ourselves in great events wherein man is fully developed.

The imagination of the most indifferent must be struck with the instances of heroism which the history of the crusades abounds in. If many of the scenes of this great epoch excite our indignation or our pity, how many of the events fill us with admiration and surprise! How many names, rendered illustrious by this war, are still the pride of families and nations! That which is perhaps most positive in the results of the first crusade, is the glory of our fathers,—that glory which is also a real good for a country; for great remembrances found the existence of nations as well as families, and are the most noble sources of patriotism.

In remotest antiquity, one of those passions which sometimes act upon a whole people, precipitated Greece upon Asia. This war, famous and rich in exploits, inflamed the imagination of the Greeks, and was for a great length of time celebrated in their temples and upon their stage. If great national remembrances inspire us with the same enthusiasm, if we entertain as strong a respect as the ancients for the memory of our ancestors, the conquest of the Holy Land must be for us as glorious and memorable an epoch as the war of Troy was for the people of Greece. These two wars, however different in their motives, present almost the same results to the enlightened observer; both offer grand lessons to policy and illustrious models to valour; both founded new states, new colonies, and established relations between distant nations. Both had a marked influence upon the civilization of the ages that followed them: both, in short, developed great passions and fine characters, and thus furnished the happiest subjects for the epic muse, who delights only in celebrating prodigies and wonders.

When comparing these two memorable wars, and the poetical masterpieces that have celebrated them, we cannot but think that the subject of the “Jerusalem Delivered” is more wonderful than that of the “Iliad.” We may still further say, that the heroes of Tasso are more interesting than those of Homer, and their exploits less fabulous. The cause which armed the Greeks was much less important than that which actuated the Christians. The latter, in some sort, took up arms for the assistance of misfortune and oppressed weakness. They went to defend a religion able to make them sensible of ills that were endured far from them, and to make them find brothers in regions unknown to them. This character of sociability is not to be found in any belief of the ancients.