Читать книгу Bleeding Armenia - M. Smbat Gabrielean - Страница 14

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The verdict of candid history is that the rabble which started in obedience to a popular ferment and perished as a miserable crowd of crazed humanity, deserved the fate they invited; for the world had never witnessed a more pitiable exhibition of demoniacal fanaticism and flagrant violence than was shown by these lawless crowds who followed the cry of Peter the Hermit. They achieved nothing heroic; but their disasters taught Europe that to conquer Jerusalem would be no holiday work.

The Princes and Nobles of Germany, France and Britain now organized for war. While deliverance of Jerusalem was the popular cry and religious zeal fired the heart of all classes, the powers recognized the fact that the battles to be fought and won were for the preservation of their very existence.

You may call it organized infatuation and mailed folly, yet it was a splendid spectacle. Its spiritual zeal gave a silver lining to its superstitions. Its martial fame modified its brutality. Amid fearful excesses there was a show of prudence; and although you may impeach the justice of their cause, their magnanimous devotion of spirit and fearless heroism must always command a large share of sympathy and admiration, and make the Story of the Crusades the most thrilling of all the chapters in the history of the Middle Ages.

History and poetry place Godfrey de Bouillon, Duke of Lower Lorraine, at the head of the great captains that led the flower of all chivalry on its desperate venture. He was a descendant of the great Charlemagne. To natural bravery he added herculean strength. He was devout, prudent and humane. All his vengeance was for the enemies of Christ. He was generous, faithful to his word—a model knight and soldier. When he gave the signal, the nobility of France and the Rhine borders opened their purses and flocked to his standards. Women sold their jewels to equip husbands and sons for service. Men sacrificed their domains for horses and arms. Godfrey himself sacrificed his estates that he might equip his soldiers, and a worldly Bishop eagerly took advantage of his zeal by purchasing his vast domains. Within eight months of the Council of Clermont, Godfrey had gathered an army of eighty thousand footmen and ten thousand horse. With him were a great number of nobles whose names became famous, beside his brother Baldwin and his cousin Baldwin de Bourg who were destined like himself to become Kings of Jerusalem. Whether actuated by piety or the hope of achieving fortune, they all quitted without regret their mean possessions and tame life in Europe.

They led an immense army used to marches and battles. Their admirable discipline and self-restraint reëstablished the honor of the Crusaders and drew allies and champions of the cross where Peter had met his worst enemies, and the hostile Hungarians and Bulgarians forgot their hatred for the leaders of the Mob in their admiration for Godfrey and his chivalric knights.

We must not neglect to mention the names of four chiefs who accompanied by throngs of lesser knights and nobles, crossed the Alps and marched towards the different coast cities of Italy intending to embark for Greece by water. Count Hugh, brother of Philip I. of France, a proud prince, brave in battle, but lacking perseverance under reverses: Robert, Duke of Normandy, eldest son of William the Conqueror, who pledged his domains to his crafty brother, William Rufus, that he might equip his Norman vassals. Robert, of Flanders, whose father some time before had made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, found it an easy task to attract a large and resolute following and exhausted the treasures of his province in arming his men for an expedition, which was to earn for him the reputation of a brave knight and the surname of “Lance and Sword of the Christians.” Five hundred of his men had already preceded him to Constantinople. Then Stephen of Blois and Chartres, whose castles numbered one for every day in the year, and who was reckoned one of the richest nobles of his time, took up the cross and led a large body of his retainers;—he, though lacking in physical strength, was eloquent and wise in council and enjoyed the exceptional distinction of being a man of letters. For the most part these chiefs and many men of lesser rank took with them their wives and children and camp equipments. Passing through Italy they roused the enthusiasm of the noble Bohemond, Prince of Tarentum, who was a cubit taller than the tallest soldier in his army. The historian of Constantinople and the Empire of the East, Anna Comnena, says that he was as astonishing to the eye as his reputation was to the mind. He was eloquent in debate, skilled with sword and lance. He was proud and haughty. Fear of God, the opinions of men, nor his own oaths afforded him no restraint. His enlistment under the banner of the cross was not for the purpose of delivering the tomb of Christ, but because he had sworn eternal enmity against Alexius and the Empire of the East. He hoped to win a kingdom long before reaching Jerusalem. In a surprisingly short time he sailed for the coasts of Greece with twenty thousand footmen and ten thousand horse, followed by every renowned knight of Apulia and Sicily. None of them however became so celebrated for deeds of prowess as the brave Tancred, who has found a place in history and poetry and who seems to have been actuated by the loftiest sentiments of piety, chivalric honor and loyal friendship for his leader. From the southern provinces of France under the leadership of Raymond of Toulouse and Bishop Adhemar, who was as valorous in the field as he was eloquent in prayer, came another army one hundred thousand strong, marching eastward along the south side of the Alps and through northern Italy by way of Dalmatia, to Constantinople.

And now that all Europe seemed pouring into the empire and capital of Alexius, the Emperor began to be alarmed. He had not forgotten the excesses of the first swarm of Crusaders. Should these multitudes now sweeping into and through his domains choose to do so, they could speedily wrest his sovereignty from him and find riches and dominion far easier than in remote and hostile Asia. We have no time to dwell upon the intrigues and treachery that marked his dealings with these mighty leaders of the Crusaders. More than once the forces of Godfrey and Alexius were called to arms with the fate of Constantinople hanging in almost even balance. Finally a truce was made and the Emperor sent his son as a hostage to the Camp of the Crusaders. This dissipated all mistrust and the princes of the West swore to respect the laws of hospitality. They went in a body to the court of Alexius, where they bent before his throne and were magnificently received. After an imposing ceremony the now graciously disposed Emperor adopted Godfrey as a son, placed the Empire under his protection, promising aid to the Crusaders by land and sea, provisions for their marches and the countenance of his leadership in glory or defeat.

Types of Softas (Mohammedan Students)

But every day brought its hosts of Crusaders and magnificent presents must be given to all the leaders, and his profuse liberality was a heavy drain on his royal treasuries. His security now lay in keeping the armies in motion and hurrying them across the Bosphorus; and once in Asia their leaders would be engrossed in preparing to meet the Saracens and his capital would for a time be free from insult and the unwelcome presence of his mortal foe Bohemond who, struck with the riches of the apartments assigned him, exclaimed: “There is enough here to conquer kingdoms with.”

And now the plains of Bythinia were fast filling with the warrior hordes of Europe and as they swept along seeking safe camping places they came to the foot of the mountains where Walter the Penniless and his entire army perished in battle. The painful reminder of so great a calamity, and the recital by the starved remnants of Peter’s army found hiding in the mountains of their fearful sufferings, hushed all discord, silenced ambition and inspired fresh zeal for the conquest of the Holy City and the destruction of the fierce, cruel and equally fanatical Turks who swarmed in the valleys and filled the walled cities of Palestine with desperate garrisons.

But the first battle of invasion must be fought at the very gateway to Asia Minor. The chief of the Infidel forces was the son of Solyman; his name was David, surnamed Kilidge Arslan, or “The Sword of the Lion.” He called upon the defenders of Islam to rally to his standard and they came in troops from all the surrounding provinces and even from distant Persia. The capital of his kingdom was Nicea (Nice). It was the advanced post of the Turks in Asia Minor and there they would concentrate for the later invasion of Europe. Its approaches were defended by high mountains. Its walls, surrounded by large water-filled ditches, were wide enough for the passage of chariots and were crowned by three hundred and seventy towers of brick. Its garrison was composed of the finest troops of the Turkish army; and one hundred thousand men were encamped for its defence upon the neighboring mountains.

Infatuated with their cause, blind in their faith, despising the martial quality of the enemy, and apparently ignorant of the careful and crafty preparations made to receive them, the Crusaders marched in magnificently terrible swarms over the Bythinian plains towards Nice; with a force of one hundred thousand horse and five hundred thousand footmen among whom were a large per cent. of women and children and ineffectives. It was the chivalry of Europe come out to dispute with the Infidel the possession of Asia. The sight of this immense army as the Turks gazed upon it from their mountain tops must have thrilled their hearts even if it did not carry terror to their camps. It was soon learned that Nice could only be captured by siege, if at all. For this preparations began to be made; but there was no central authority. In the camps of the Crusaders were nineteen different nationalities grouped about their respective standards. No count or prince would deign to receive orders from anyone. Each camp was protected by walls or palisades, and as the supply of wood and stone was scarce they gathered up the bones of the first Crusaders that lay bleaching on the plains. The priests in all these various camps were always in the ranks and so great was their power that the commonest soldier gladly courted death for the sake of the rewards in store for all who perished in battle with the Infidel.

At the same time David, “The Sword of the Lion” animated his garrison by recalling former victories and saying: “We are going to fight for our wives and children and country. The religion of the Prophet implores our help, and the richest booty will reward our exploits.” While for every Turk that fell in battle the gates of Paradise would open and the most beautiful Houris would minister with wine and dance to the unlimited enjoyment of the faithful. The rewards of the future, though so different to the imagination of the followers of Christ and of Mohammed, had precisely the same effect in stimulating the courage of all alike to the same pitch of frenzied fanaticism—the utter contempt of all danger, and to the very courting of death itself in the destruction of their enemies.

As the Crusaders advanced, their siege operations animated by the boldness of their leaders, the Turks, similarly cheered and as bravely led, descended from their mountain camps and prepared for battle. Their army divided into two great bodies as they struck the plains. One of these fell on the army of Godfrey, and the other on that of Raymond of Toulouse. At first the troops of Raymond gave way to the fierce onset but were soon rallied by the voices and bugles of Raymond and Adhemar. Matthew of Edessa writes:—“The two armies joined, mingled and attacked each other with equal fury. Everywhere glittered casques and shields; lances rang against cuirasses; the air resounded with piercing cries; the terrified horses recoiled from din of arms and the hissing of arrows; the earth trembled beneath the tread of the combatants, and the plain was for a vast space bristling with javelins.” The Crusaders were most valiantly led by Godfrey, Tancred and the two Roberts whose steeds seemed to be everywhere, whose valor knew no abatement and whose lances carried terror and death into the ranks of the Infidels. It was a disastrous day for the Turkish forces that were driven back in greatest confusion into their mountain camps. But the Sultan did not stop to deplore his defeat. He rallied his forces during the night and determined to avenge his disgrace on the morrow. At break of day again his troops rushed with the violence of mountain torrents into the plains, and with loudest cries dashed again and again into the serried ranks of the Crusaders. All day long under charge and counter charge the result of the battle hung in doubt. Not till night did the Turks confess their inability to crush the battle lines of the Christians by retiring from the scene of awful carnage, leaving four thousand prisoners in the hands of the victors. The next day the heads of one thousand were cut off and sent as trophies to Alexius at Constantinople; the heads of the remaining captives were thrown by machines over the walls of the city to inform the Turkish garrison of the disaster which had overtaken their supporting army.

The Crusaders were now free to push forward the siege by every artifice known to the Romans and directed by the skill and energy of the Greeks. They allowed the garrison no rest, and the defence was as furious as the attack. The Turks covered their ramparts with formidable weapons which hurled destruction on their assailants. They shot forth darts, wooden beams and enormous stones which daily destroyed the labor of the Crusaders whose rashness and imprudence cost them many precious lives. Hundreds died from poisoned darts, and others, venturing too near the walls, were caught by grappling hooks, dragged alive over the walls to be shot back, stark naked, into the Christian camp. The tales of personal, single-handed prowess place Christian and Turkish chief on equal footing as to strength, courage and splendid daring.

After seven weeks had passed all hope for successful defence departed. The wife of the Sultan and her two children were captured in trying to escape, and consternation siezed the garrison. Just at this crisis the emissaries of Alexius entered the city, and by creating in the inhabitants a dread of the terrible vengeance that would be inflicted by the Crusaders, persuaded them to surrender to the Emperor of Constantinople.

While the Crusaders were preparing for what was intended to be their final assault, the standard of Alexius suddenly appeared on the ramparts. The wily Emperor had secured without the loss of a man the fruits of a victory won at terrible cost of life to the Crusaders. He succeeded in quieting the wrath of the soldiers by distributing among them largesses equal in extent to the booty they expected from the looting of the captured city. He also restored to the Sultan his wife and children, and thereby won his friendship. He also by this crafty stroke of policy secured the lives of the Greek Christians scattered throughout the cities of Asia Minor; but won the lasting hatred of the Crusaders.

The siege of one city is like the siege of all, and we must hasten to Jerusalem, in the spring of 1097. Passing by the battlefield of Dorylaeum, where the newly gathered army of David, the Sultan, numbering two hundred thousand men, met with an awful defeat and the loss of nearly twenty-five thousand men; all the treasures of his camp, provisions, tents, horses and camels, and riches of gold and silver, falling as spoil into the hands of the Crusaders:—passing by the terrible march through “Burning Phrygia,” desolated by order of the Sultan, we descend through the mountain passes of the Taurus range into the fair and fertile and wealthy plains of the province of Antioch. The armies were soon gathered for the siege of this historic city, which lasted seven months and was finally captured through the assistance of an Armenian within the walls.

Six months after the sack of the city of Antioch, the word was given, “On to Jerusalem.”

It was now about the first of June. The harvests of Phœnicia were ripe, plenty of provisions were in sight, and the country was beautiful as they marched down the seacoast from Antioch. To their left rose the mountains of Lebanon. On their right the blue waters of the Mediterranean flashed in the sunlight of an eastern sky. Between mountain and sea the valleys and plains were filled with orchards of olive, orange and pomegranate. Among the plants which were new to the Crusaders was the sugar cane of the Syrian lowlands. Returning pilgrims carried this plant to Italy; the Saracens introduced it into Grenada, whence it spread throughout all the Spanish colonial possessions; and to-day is the basis of the wealth of Cuba, and one of the chief productions of our own Southern States.

The Crusaders marched amid plenty and under balmy skies, with time enough to contemplate the fearful sacrifice of human life which their expedition had already cost. Battle and famine, disease and despair had cut off more than two hundred thousand of their number. Tens of thousands had deserted and returned to Europe; other thousands remained in the cities and villages of Palestine and were lost in the mixed crowds of the native races. While yet a vast host, the fighting force was about fifty thousand, but it was a compact and vigorous body of warriors. It marched better and lighter. Its victories gave it courage; its defeats had taught it the value of discipline. The names of Crusader and Christian carried terror wherever spoken in the Infidel camps or cities. Their zeal increased as they drew near the end of their long and wasting marches. Often the weary columns refused to halt for the night, but tramped on until forced to rest by sheer fatigue. To their disordered vision luminous angels appeared to guide them on the way.

Bending away from the sea and passing Lydda, they soon gained the Heights of Ephraim, only sixteen miles from Jerusalem. Here their ranks were broken up as they entered these jagged ravines and narrow, lonesome valleys scorched by the rays of a summer sun, riddled by gullies and choked by great fragments of rock fallen from the precipitous sides of the mountains. Had they been attacked from the heights above by even a few resolute Mussulmen while in such disorder, fearful loss might have been inflicted; but no enemy appeared as the more ardent and faithful souls advanced barefooted, carrying with them the banner of the Prince of Peace to plant on the recaptured walls of the Holy City of God.

On June 10th, 1099, the Crusaders marched up the gloomy steeps to Emmaus, and looking over its barren edges caught their first sight of Zion. The cry of “Jerusalem, Jerusalem,” rang out and down the slopes, and as the rear columns came up the war cry “It is the will of God,” resounded throughout the whole army until reëchoed by the slopes of the Mount of Olives and heard in the City of David. Horsemen dismounted and walked barefoot, thousands bent their knees and kissed the earth. Hallelujahs arose, petitions went up for the remission of their sins, tears were shed over the death of Christ, and the profanation of His tomb. Pious fervor soon changed into fierceness and wrath as oaths were resworn to rescue the Holy City from the sacrilegious hands of the followers of Mohammed.

They found a fierce and valiant memory awaiting them. The surrounding villages had been destroyed, cisterns and wells filled up or poisoned, the land made a desert.

The siege began at once; but their situation grew desperate. They were suffering under a scorching heat and the sand storms out of the southern deserts. Plants and animals perished. Kedron ran dry. The army became a prey to raging thirst. Water brought in skin bottles a distance of nine miles was worth its weight in silver. The old historians paint in most frightful colors the misery of the Crusaders at this juncture; and had the Mussulmen made a determined sortie upon the staggering hosts, the army must have perished. Their strength and courage revived by the arrival of a Genoese fleet at Jaffa laden with provisions. A Syrian pointed out a mountain thirty miles away that was forest-clad. Every body wrought with unceasing energy. Water was brought long distances by the women and children; machines of war towers, catapults and battering rams were erected and pushed up close under the walls of Jerusalem.

The priests exhorted to peace and harmony. The hermit of the Mount of Olives led a penitential march around the city. On their return to camp as the Christian army marched by the tomb of David, and Mt. Zion they chanted “The nations of the West shall fear the Lord; and the nations of the East shall see His glory.”

On the morning of July 14, 1099, all the Crusaders flew to arms at the sound of the trumpets to make their first grand assault.

The great war machines were pushed close to the walls. Showers of stones were hurled upon the ramparts. Archers and crossbowmen kept up a continual fire from their towers. Scaling ladders were planted. The great leaders were everywhere. For twelve long hours the Crusaders maintained the unequal fight, and then nightfall covered their first repulse. The morning saw the renewal of the conflict more furious and desperate than before. It was carried on with demoniac obstinacy for half a day. Their courage began to fail; nearly all their machines were on fire and there was no water to quench the flames; even their leaders began to waver.

While the battle was in this desperate shape a mysterious knight made his appearance on the Mount of Olives waving his sword and signalling them to renew the assault. They accepted the omen as from heaven and in the fury of their faith rushed again to the attack—dragged their machines still nearer the walls, caught them with their grappling hooks, lowered their drawbridges, let fly showers of flaming arrows which set on fire sacks of wool and bundles of hay that had been used for protection on the inner walls. The wind fanned the flames, driving smoke and heat upon the doomed Saracens. The Crusaders sprang upon the walls with lance and spear in hand. Godfrey, Baldwin, Raymond and Tancred followed by their knights and soldiers were soon in the streets and beating down the gates with their battle-axes opened the way for the great body of Crusaders to enter. Their battle cry rang through the streets of the Holy City.

The miracle-monger places the entry of the Crusaders at the very hour Friday, 3 P. M., at which Christ expired on the cross. But even this could not move their hearts to mercy. We throw a veil of silence over the awful massacre that followed, until Godfrey throwing aside his arms walked barefooted to the church of the Holy Sepulchre. His example was contagious. The army ceased its bloody fury, cast aside its blood-stained vestments, gave vent to its contrition in groans and sobs, and marched with uncovered heads and bare feet following their priests to the Church of the Resurrection. We marvel at the sudden transformation. The devotion of the Crusaders seemed profoundly tender after such horrible carnage. We do not excuse it. We do not condemn it in bitter speech recalling some terrible experiences during our late Civil War, when Christian men sometimes seemed possessed. The demon of war has never yet been baptized with the Spirit of Him who gave up His life for the salvation of the very men who crucified Him.

The last chapter in the history of this first Crusade ends with the establishment of a kingdom of Jerusalem and the selection of the pious Godfrey as King. With its fortunes we may not here concern ourselves. We shall touch upon it as we sketch the resistless march of the warriors of Islam to the conquest of Constantinople and the overthrow of the Empire of Eastern Europe.