THE
HISTORY OF THE CRUSADES
BY
JOSEPH FRANCOIS MICHAUD.
_TRANSLATED BY W. ROBSON._
A New Edition,
WITH PREFACE AND SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER BY
HAMILTON W. MABIE.
_IN THREE VOLUMES._
VOL. I.
NEW YORK:
A. C. ARMSTRONG & SON,
714 BROADWAY.
PREFACE.
THE publication of a new edition of this standard work finds its
justification in the wide-spread interest in historical study and in
the importance of the events which it describes with such fullness
and accuracy. The popular demand for histories of the best class
is unprecedented in the annals of book-making, and is substantial
evidence of a growing taste for the most important literature. The
standard historians have one after another been published in attractive
editions, and are rapidly filling the libraries of English-speaking
people everywhere. In this remarkable development of popular interest
in historical literature, so striking an episode as that of the
Crusades could not be left without its record, and the story is
nowhere told so entertainingly and comprehensively as in the pages of
Michaud. It is a story worthy of careful study, not only on account
of its intrinsic interest, but because of its significance in that
larger history of Europe of which it forms, in many respects, the most
dramatic and picturesque chapter.
There has been of late an immense advance in the methods of historical
investigation, and the contemporaneous historian studies the events
which he undertakes to portray from a new standpoint. It would be
difficult to find in any other department of literary work a wider
difference of method and aim than that which separates Robertson’s
Charles V. from Freeman’s Norman Conquest of England. The clue is
no longer sought in the hands of trained diplomatists, but in the
broad, though less obvious, unfolding of the popular life. To the
most advanced school of historians Robin Hood is almost as important
as Richard I. The historical writer of the last age worked with a
pictorial imagination, weaving his story about the striking characters
and episodes of an age; the same writer to-day, with an imagination
trained in philosophical methods, discerns the dimly outlined movement
of national life behind the pageantry of courts, the struggles of
parties, and the rush of events. It is doubtless this very deepening
of historical study and broadening of historical effect which has made
the history the rival of the romance in popular interest. The studied
narrative of Hume repels in spite of its trustworthiness, while Green’s
portrayal of the national development against a background of equally
trustworthy fact charms a host of readers into repeated perusals.
The epoch of the Crusades is important from the standpoint of either
school. Prescott and Professor Seeley would each find in it material
to his fancy. Studied with an eye to pictorial effect, what series
of events could be more impressive than that which chronicles the
successive campaigns to capture and hold Jerusalem? If chivalry was
ever anything more than an aftergrowth of fancy and sentiment, it
was in the fierce struggles which centered around the Holy City. The
virtues of Feudalism were never more strikingly illustrated than during
the brief period in which a handful of knights held Jerusalem against a
circle of hostile nations. Separated by long and perilous marches from
Europe, hemmed in by enemies whose multitude made their own scanty
ranks insignificant, sustained by a courage that nothing could daunt,
a purpose that nothing could defeat, a skill in arms which made their
skeleton armies a host, they long maintained the hopeless struggle of a
Christian colony against Asia in arms to destroy it.
Tancred, Godfred de Bouillon, Richard and Saladin, are names which
have made knighthood synonymous with honor, loyalty, and courage.
Their personal exploits, no less than the larger achievements in
which they bore their part, make the age of the Crusades a field
from which literature has been enriched with heroic characters and
dramatic incidents from the days of Raoul de Caen and Tasso to
the present. These expeditions furnish the most striking episode
in European history, inspired as they were by religious emotion,
prosecuted under the most perilous conditions, displaying in the most
effective contrasts the loftiest and the basest passions of men, and
foreordained from the beginning to a disastrous failure, which hangs
over the narrative as invisibly, but as inevitably, as the doom which
overshadows a Greek tragedy. If they had no deeper interest than that
which attaches to wide and varied disclosures of character, to vast and
varied achievements, these warlike pilgrimages would be worthy the most
thoughtful study.
The Crusades have, however, a deeper significance than any isolated
personages or events, however picturesque or imposing, ever possess.
They brought two civilizations into conflict, and no events are
more important than those which secure the contact of different
civilizations. In contemporaneous history nothing is so suggestive of
change as the wonderful return of Western upon Eastern civilization in
Egypt, Syria, India, and Japan. The contact of Western with Eastern
knowledge and thought in the Crusades was by no means so fruitful as
that which came about through the conquests of Alexander and, later, of
Rome, but it was not without great results. The Crusades established
an intercourse between the East and the West, which if often hostile,
has nevertheless kept an open channel for that interchange of thought
and industry, which in the single department of comparative philology
has made possible a marvelous advance into an unsuspected region of
knowledge. The study of Sanskrit has opened an epoch in historical and
literary investigation, which Professor Fiske declares will be not less
fruitful in the intellectual progress of the world than was the age of
the Renaissance.
The Crusades united for the first time the warring States of Europe
in a common purpose and a common enterprise. It accustomed the
overburdened people to the thought of a higher authority than that
of the special tyranny under which they happened to be born, and so
prepared the way for the growth of larger ideas of authority and
citizenship. The power of Feudalism was measurably weakened by the
disasters which overtook successive expeditions led by the flower
of chivalry, and this result made possible the unfolding of the
monarchical principle which was to play so important a part in the
political development of Europe. In short, the wide disturbance
which these successive expeditions to the East introduced, loosened
perceptibly the iron framework of feudal tyranny which held European
society bound and helpless, and by gradual disintegration prepared the
soil for the seeds of popular institutions.
H. W. M.
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE.
WE are not of those who think that readers are without curiosity as to
the position in life, actions, and fortunes of the authors who afford
them instruction or pleasure; the eagerness with which the birthplaces
of men of genius are sought for and commemorated; the fondness with
which their most trifling actions are dwelt upon; and the endless
collections that are made of their conversations and sayings, prove
that this cannot be the case.
In a prefatory memoir, we can scarcely go into so many details of the
life of Michaud, as, perhaps, the subject deserves. Michaud was not
a mere author, whose history may be read in his works. He lived at
a momentous period, and was no idle spectator of passing events; a
complete life of Michaud would, indeed, swell to a history of France
from 1790 to 1839.
Joseph François Michaud, born at Albens, in Savoy, on the 19th of
June, in the year 1767, was descended from a family that traced its
nobility beyond the tenth century. One of his ancestors, Hugh Michaud
de Corcelles, was deservedly distinguished by the emperor Charles V.
The father of Joseph was obliged to leave his country, in consequence
of what is termed by his biographer, a piece of boyish rashness, but
which we prefer relating to any of the warlike deeds of the abovenamed
Hugh. Whilst on a shooting party, he sought refreshment in a cottage,
and found the mistress of it in the greatest distress; for, at the
moment of his entrance, officers were bearing away her humble
furniture, for the paltry sum of sixty francs. He offered to pay the
amount if they would come with him to his home; but they refused, and
continued their operations in his presence. This irritated him to such
a degree, that he threatened to make use of his gun; and, at length,
struck one of them so severe a blow with the stock of it, that the
fellow died immediately. He retired to a place near Bourg, in Bresse,
where he married; and he afterwards established himself as a notary
and commissary at Terrier, in that province. An early death left his
widow burdened with a numerous family, of which Joseph was the eldest.
Notwithstanding this calamity, he received an excellent education at
the college of Bourg, and acquired great credit as a rhetorician and
a composer of French verses. His studies and some juvenile travels
completed, it became necessary for him to fix upon a mode of getting
a living; and the narrowness of his mother’s resources confining his
efforts to trade, he went into the house of a bookseller at Lyon,
attracted, no doubt, by the affinity between the bookseller and the man
of letters. He remained here till 1790, when the passage of the rich,
influential, and intellectual Countess Fanny de Beauharnais through
that city, aroused all the provincial muses to make their offerings
to the great lady. Among the poets, Michaud was so successful, that
he thought himself warranted in following her to Paris, with the view
of pursuing a literary career under her auspices. Immediately on his
arrival, he laid the contents of his poetical portfolio before the
public, and soon became the associate of Cerisier, in the _Gazette
Universelle_, and with Esménard, in the _Postillon de la Guerre_. His
opinions and early associations led him towards the Royalist party,
to which the accession of his talents was very acceptable. He may be
said to have been faithful to his colours, through all the disasters
of the unhappy cause he had embraced; for, in spite of imprisonment,
banishment, and repeated concealments, we find him, in 1799, publishing
two satirical pamphlets against Buonaparte, by the orders of Louis
XVIII. One of his escapes was so well managed, and so opportunely
effected, that we will offer an account of it to our readers. He had
been sent prisoner to Paris, walking between two mounted gendarmes,
who were directed not to spare him, and if fatigue relaxed his speed,
they were to refresh him with the flat sides of their sabres. As he
entered Paris in this forlorn condition, he was met by his zealous
friend Giguet, whose sorrow only set his fertile brain to work to
devise means for his escape. As Michaud was, during many days,
conducted from his prison to the Tuileries, to undergo examination,
Giguet at first thought that the best way would be to blow out the
brains of the two gendarmes that escorted him; but this he rejected
as unworthy of a man of genius. Choosing a point in Michaud’s passage
that would answer his purpose, he stopped the party, and affecting
to know nothing of the matter, and not to have seen his friend since
his arrival in Paris, was eager in his inquiries as to how his health
was, what he was doing, where he was going, and insisted upon his
breakfasting with him. “No, no,” answered Michaud, “I have a little
affair yonder, at the Tuileries, just a few words of explanation to
give—only the business of a minute or two.—Begin breakfast without
me, I shall be back presently.” “That won’t do; that won’t do; they
do not despatch people so quickly as all that. Perhaps they won’t
begin with you; let us have our breakfast first. I dare say these
gentlemen (pointing to the gendarmes) have not breakfasted, and will
have no objection to a cutlet and a glass of Bourdeaux wine! and
here’s the best house in Paris, close at hand.” The gendarmes, after
a little faint hesitation, suffered themselves to be seduced; and
prisoner, guards, and friends were soon comfortably seated at table.
They eat, they drink, they pass bumper toasts, and talk a little about
everything; but most particularly about Bresse and the good cheer that
was there always to be met with—but the pullets of Bresse! never was
such eating as the pullets of Bresse! The mouths of the gendarmes
watered at the bare description of them. “Parbleu, gentlemen,” cried
Giguet, “since you have never partaken of our country pullets, I will
undertake to convince you that there are none such in the eighty-three
departments. We have plenty of time; you can eat a little bit more, and
appetite comes with—— drinking (and he filled the glasses). Waiter,
here! a Bresse pullet! no tricks, mind; it must be from Bresse—not
from Mans. But, stop; Michaud, you understand these things better than
anybody; have an eye to these fellows, go down into the kitchen, and
see that they don’t cheat us. Good health to you, gentlemen.” Whilst
they are drinking, Michaud rises, and is soon out of the house. Giguet
had the art to keep the guards another half-hour at table, by saying
his friend was only watching the cooking, for a Bresse pullet was worth
nothing if not roasted à la Bresse; and when they discovered Michaud
was not in the kitchen, he asserted it must either be a joke, or else
he was ill, and gone home; and contrived to lead them a long useless
search in a way directly opposite to that which he knew the late
prisoner had taken. Michaud’s escape was a happy one; for that very
day, the council had condemned him to death. Poor Giguet’s friendly
zeal cost him nearly a month’s imprisonment, and placed his life even
in jeopardy.
The career of Buonaparte was so successful, that, at length, further
resistance seemed useless, and Michaud even wrote complimentary verses
on the marriage of Napoleon with Maria Louisa, and upon the birth
of the young king of Rome. But this submission to circumstances was
no voluntary homage; he was still at heart faithfully attached to
the Bourbons. For a length of time he resisted the tempting offers
of the emperor, and one of his refusals, for its wit, if not for
its patriotism, almost deserves to be placed by the side of Andrew
Marvel’s. Fontaines, Buonaparte’s emissary, said to him: “There must
be an end to all resistance; it is diminishing every day. Come, do as
other men do. Look at Delille, for instance, he has just accepted a
pension of six thousand francs.” “Oh! as to that,” replied Michaud,
“he is so frightened, that he would accept a pension of a hundred
thousand francs, if you were to offer it to him.” Posterity, perhaps,
may be thankful that he was driven from politics to literature. During
one of his necessary exiles, he had written his beautiful poem of “Le
Printemps d’un Proscrit:” he afterwards became associated with his
brother as a bookseller, and planned and executed the works of which
we will furnish a list. Whatever opinion might be entertained of his
talents, it is more than probable that without his implied submission
to Buonaparte, he never would have obtained that object of the hopes of
all French authors, the immortal fauteuil in the Academy. This honour
he attained in 1813, and, upon the publication of his fourth volume of
the “History of the Crusades,” had the gratification of signing himself
“Knight of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem,” and “Knight of the
Holy Sepulchre:” titles bestowed upon him, unasked, by the commanders
representing the order of St. John of Jerusalem in France.
He watched with intense anxiety the madly ambitious career of
Buonaparte, and hailed with unfeigned delight the return of his
patrons, the Bourbons. He had no cause to complain of their
ingratitude, and occupied as good a position as a literary man could
expect, when the escape from Elba, during a hundred days, disturbed
his occupations, and placed him in considerable danger. He left Paris;
returned again, and put himself forward for a struggle: but finding
resistance dangerous and useless, he retired to the department of the
Ain, where he concealed himself till the tempest had blown over; his
celebrated journal, the _Quotidienne_, in the mean time, degenerating
into the _Feuille du Jour_, or rather, as a wit said, “La Feuille de la
veille ’last night’s journal); for it was only edited by scissors, and
contained nothing but scraps from the _Moniteur_ and other inoffensive
journals.” The _Nain Jaune_ ’yellow dwarf) took unfair advantage of an
enemy, who, he knew, could not answer him, and bestowed upon Michaud
the sobriquet of “Grand Master of the Order of the Extinguishers,”
which stuck to him with the burlike pertinacity of sobriquets, for many
years after the second restoration of the Bourbons. He welcomed this
last event by the publication of a pamphlet entitled “The History of
the Fifteen Weeks, or the Last Reign of Buonaparte,” which had a great
sale, twenty-seven editions of it appearing in a very short period.
Having, since his success as an author, separated from his brother as a
bookseller, and sold his share in the printing office, he, after 1815,
gave himself up to the prosecution of his great work on the crusades,
and even parted with his portion of “La Biographie Universelle.” His
love of politics led him, at this time, to get returned as deputy for
the department of the Ain: but alas! he found it a very different
thing for a man with a weak voice, and totally “unaccustomed to
public speaking,” to sit and write uncontrolled and unobserved in his
closet,—and to be subject to the “retort courteous” of an enemy
who watches for your mistakes, corrects your errors, and mercilessly
refutes all your favourite arguments: after the trial of one session,
he retired from his deputyship, and gave up all hopes of fame as an
orator.
During the celebrity of his journal, the _Quotidienne_, he was made
reader to the king, with a salary of 3,000 francs; to which appointment
was attached the somewhat strange stipulation, that he should never
be called upon to perform its duties. After 1819, when a plan was
devised of buying up the influential journals, Michaud and his
fellow-proprietors were offered 500,000 francs for theirs, which our
author declined. “Monseigneur,” said he to the excellency who solicited
him, “there is but one thing for which I could be tempted to sell the
_Quotidienne_, and that would be a little health. If you could give me
that, I might allow myself to be corrupted.” The minister, Villéle,
returned repeatedly to the charge, but when, in consequence of the
increasing weakness of his health, the sexagenarian Michaud parted with
the greater part of his shares of the journal, it was only to pass them
over to another self, his friend Laurentie.
Whilst carrying on his great work, he had been surprised to meet with
a vast quantity of matter which he had not dreamt of when he began it;
and he conceived the idea of not only reconstructing his history, but
of going to the Holy Land, in search of more information. Although it
was too late for such an attempt, his fame procured him encouragement;
and the king, Charles X., so far favoured it as to give him 25,000
francs to defray his expenses. He set out at the beginning of 1830.
Whatever gratification he derived from his voyage, it must have been
sadly damped by the news he received from France during that eventful
year. To complete his griefs, he likewise at this period lost 200,000
francs, the greater part of his fortune, which he had imprudently
placed in unsafe hands. He still, however, had a moderate competence,
and might have passed the remainder of his days in ease, but for that
mismanagement to which the families of literary men are so frequently
subject. On his return from the Holy Land he sojourned for a time in
Italy, where he was kindly welcomed by his natural sovereign, Charles
Albert. In 1837 he was named member of the Académie des Inscriptions;
but honours from monarchs and academies could not put off the fatal
hour, and he died at the elegant village of Passy on the 30th of
September, 1839. On this occasion was exhibited an instance of what
our poet calls “the ruling passion, strong in death.” Few authors
had received more adulation, and no one could be more covetous of
it. Extraordinary instances are told of the copious draughts of this
intoxicating beverage that were offered to him, and of the greediness
with which he swallowed them. “Never,” says his biographer, “although
he loved to be called the _La Fontaine of journalism_, did he think
of the second fable of the good man.”[1] One of the most extravagant
of his flatterers said to a friend, admitted for a last interview,
“With all his weakness, not the least trace of decline of intellect;
still the same facility of expression, still the same lucidity.”—This
aroused Michaud, upon whom the affectionate words of a sincere friend
had just before produced no effect. He started, and sitting upright in
his bed, exclaimed, in a tremulous voice, “Yes! yes! _still_ the same!
still——” and he sunk exhausted and dying on his pillow: these were
his last words!
To criticise the works of Michaud properly would require a volume;
we can therefore only lay before our readers a list of such as from
their merit and celebrity are ever likely to fall under the eye of
English readers. His greatest claim to the attention of posterity is
doubtless the one before us, “The History of the Crusades,” of which
his biographer, who is certainly less of an eulogist than any one we
ever saw assume a similar task, very justly says, “It may be said,
without exaggeration, that it is one of the most valuable historical
works that our age has produced. To its completion he sacrificed almost
every moment of twenty of the best years of his life.” No reader
requires to be told that it was a labour of love.—He was the founder
of, and a considerable contributor to, “La Biographie Universelle,” a
work which England may envy France the conception and execution of; and
if to these we add his beautiful poem of “Le Printemps d’un Proscrit,”
we think we name all that he wrote that would be interesting at the
present day: the other historical works are feeble, and the political
squibs of a journalist after a lapse of half a century, are only
acceptable to him who may be writing the history of the time. In this
latter vein we may, however, suppose him to have excelled; mixed up
from an early age with politics and journalism; possessed of a lively
imagination and great facility of expression; constantly in the world,
and deeply interested in its movements; we can fancy his _vers de
société_, of which so much is said, to have been piquant and sparkling.
We subjoin a specimen, written upon Buonaparte’s expedition to Egypt:—
Que de lauriers tombés dans l’eau,
Et que de fortunes perdues!
Que d’hommes courent au tombeau,
Pour porter Bonaparte aux nues!
Ce héros vaut son pesant d’or;
En France, personne n’en doute;
Mais il vaudrait bien plus encore,
S’il valoit tout ce qu’il nous coute.
* * * * *
What laurels in the waters fall,
What fortunes sink no more to rise!
What men lie shrouded in death’s pall,
That Bonaparte may gain the skies!
This hero’s worth his weight in gold;
In France of that there’s no one doubts;
But greater far his worth, if sold
At what he costs—or thereabouts!
As a conversationalist his reputation stands even higher than that of
our Coleridge; for the stream was quite as constant and abundant, and
at the same time much more pellucid. One of our English biographical
dictionaries says he was censor of the press under Louis XVIII., but
this we believe is not correct; indeed it was an office scarcely
suitable for the editor and proprietor of such a journal as the
_Quotidienne_. He was a member of the Academy and of the Institute, a
knight of St. John of Jerusalem and of the Holy Sepulchre, and for a
short time representative of the department of the Ain. These were his
temporary honours—much more durable and brilliant ones belong to him
as the author of the work before us.
W. R.
INTRODUCTION.
THE history of the middle ages presents no spectacle more imposing than
the Crusades, in which are to be seen the nations of Asia and of Europe
armed against each other, two religions contending for superiority,
and disputing the empire of the world. After having been several
times threatened by the Mussulmans, and a long time exposed to their
invasions, all at once the West arouses itself, and appears, according
to the expression of a Greek historian,[2] to tear itself from its
foundation, in order to precipitate itself upon Asia. All nations
abandon their interests and their rivalries, and see upon the face of
the earth but one single country worthy of the ambition of conquerors.
One would believe that there no longer exists in the universe any other
city but Jerusalem, or any other habitable spot of earth but that which
contains the tomb of Jesus Christ. All the roads which lead to the holy
city are deluged with blood, and present nothing but the scattered
spoils and wrecks of empires.
In this general confusion we may contemplate the sublimest virtues
mixed with all the disorders of the wildest passions. The Christian
soldiers have at the same time to contend against famine, the influence
of climate, and enemies the most formidable; in the greatest dangers,
in the midst of their successes and their constant discords, nothing
can exhaust either their perseverance or their resignation. After four
years of fatigue, of miseries, and of victories, Jerusalem is taken by
the Crusaders; but as their conquests are not the work of wisdom and
prudence, but the fruit of blind enthusiasm and ill-directed heroism,
they create nothing but a transient power.
The banner of the cross soon passes from the hands of Godfrey de
Bouillon into those of his weak and imbecile successors. Jerusalem, now
a Christian city, is obliged again to apply for succour to the West.
At the voice of St. Bernard, the Christians take arms. Conducted by an
emperor of Germany and a king of France, they fly to the defence of
the Holy Land; but they have no longer great captains among them; they
have none of the magnanimity or heroic resignation of their fathers.
Asia, which beholds their coming without terror, already presents a
new spectacle. The disciples of Mahomet awaken from their apathy;
they are at once seized with a frenzy equal to that which had armed
their enemies; they oppose enthusiasm to enthusiasm, fanaticism to
fanaticism, and in their turn burn with a desire to shed their blood in
a religious war.
The spirit of discord which had destroyed their power is no longer felt
but among the Christians. Luxury and the manners of the East weaken the
courage of the defenders of the cross, and make them forget the object
even of the holy war. Jerusalem, which had cost the Crusaders so much
blood, falls again into the power of the infidels, and becomes the
conquest of a wise and warlike prince, who had united under his banner
the forces of Syria and Egypt.
The genius and fortune of Saladin inflict a mortal blow upon the
ill-assured power of the Christians in the East. In vain an emperor of
the West, and two kings celebrated for their bravery, place themselves
at the head of the whole powers of their states to deliver Palestine;
these new armies of Crusaders meet everywhere with brave enemies and
invincible barriers, and all their united efforts produce nothing but
illustrious disasters. The kingdom of Jerusalem, for whose ruins they
contend, is no longer anything but a vain name; soon even the captivity
and the miseries of the holy city cease to inspire the sentiments
of piety and enthusiasm that they had given birth to among the
Christians. The Crusaders who had taken up arms for its deliverance,
suffer themselves to be seduced by the wealth of Greece, and stop short
to undertake the conquest of Constantinople.
From that time the spirit of the Crusaders begins to change; whilst a
small number of Christians still shed their blood for the deliverance
of the tomb of Jesus Christ, the princes and the knights are deaf
to everything but the voice of ambition. The popes complete the
corruption of the true spirit of the Crusaders, by urging them on, by
their preaching, against other Christian people, and against their own
personal enemies. The holy wars then degenerate into civil wars, in
which both religion and humanity are outraged.
These abuses of the crusades, and the dire passions which had mixed
themselves with them, plunge Europe in disorder and anarchy; when a
pious king undertakes once more to arm the powers of the West against
the infidels, and to revive among the Crusaders the spirit which had
animated the companions of Godfrey. The two wars directed by this
pious chief, are more unfortunate than all the others. In the first,
the world is presented with the spectacle of a captive army and a king
in fetters; in the second, that of a powerful monarch dying in its
ashes. Then it is that the illusion disappears, and Jerusalem ceases to
attract all the attention of the West.
Soon after, the face of Europe is changed; intelligence dissipates
barbarism; the crusades no longer excite the same degree of enthusiasm,
and the first effect of the civilization it begins to spread is to
weaken the spirit of the fanaticism which had given them birth.
Some few useless efforts are at times made to rekindle the fire
which had burnt so fiercely in Europe and Asia. The nations are so
completely recovered from the pious delirium of the Crusades, that
when Germany finds itself menaced by the Mussulmans who are masters of
Constantinople, the banner of the cross can with difficulty gather an
army around it; and Europe, which had risen in a mass to attack the
infidels in Asia, opposes but a feeble resistance to them on its own
territories.
Such is, in a few words, the picture of the events and revolutions
which the historian of the crusades has to describe. A writer who has
preceded us by two centuries and who calls the history of the Crusades
_a right royal history_, is surprised at the silence preserved to his
time.[3] “I esteem it,” says he, “a deplorable thing that such persons
inferior in no way to those who have been so much celebrated by the
Greeks and the Romans, should have fallen into such obscurity, that we
search in vain to discover who they were and what they did; and they
appear to me highly culpable, who, possessing learning and the skill to
write, have left these histories neglected.” Everybody ought now to be
of this opinion, and regret that our great writers have not entertained
the noble subject of the Crusades. When I undertake to supply the want
created by their silence, I am duly impressed with the difficulty of
the task.
They who, among us, have written ancient history, had for guides
the historians of Rome and Athens. The brilliant colours of Livy,
of Tacitus, of Thucydides presented themselves naturally to their
pencils; but I have no models to follow, and am compelled to make
those historians of the middle ages speak whom our times despise. They
have rarely sustained me in my labour by the charm of their style,
or the elegance of their narrations; but if they have afforded me no
lessons in the art of writing, they transmit to me at least events
whose interest will make up for the deficiency of their talent or
mine. Perhaps it will be found, in the perusal of this history, that
a period in which everything is astonishing loses nothing by being
presented in a simple and faithful picture. The unaffected style of
our old historians, in my view, appears to reanimate the persons
and the characters they describe; and if I have profited by that
which they have taught me, the age in which they lived will not be
ill represented in my pages. It would have been easy for me to have
censured with severity, as has usually been done, their ignorance and
their credulity, but I respect in them the frankness and the candour
of the periods of which they are the interpreters. Without yielding
faith to all they say, I have not disdained the fables they relate to
us, and which were believed by their contemporaries; for that which was
thought worthy of credit then serves to picture to us the manners of
our ancestors, and forms an essential part of the history of past ages.
We do not now require much sagacity to discover in our ancient
chronicles what is fabulous and what is not. A far more difficult
thing is to reconcile, upon some points, the frequent contradictory
assertions of the Latins, the Greeks, and the Saracens, and to
separate, in the history of the crusades, that which belongs to
religious fanaticism, to policy, or to human passions. I do not pretend
to resolve more skilfully than others these difficult problems, or to
elevate myself above my subject, by offering positive judgments upon
the nations and ages which will present themselves before me. Without
giving myself up to digressions in which it is always easy to make a
display of learning, after having scrupulously examined the historical
monuments which remain to us, I will tell honestly what I believe to be
the truth, and will leave dissertations to the erudite, and conjectures
to philosophers.
In an age in which some value is set upon an opinion of the crusades,
it will be first asked, if the wars of the Crusades were just. Upon
this head we have but little to answer: whilst the Crusaders believed
that they were obeying God himself, by attacking the Saracens in the
East, the latter, who had invaded a part of Asia possessed by Christian
people, who had got possession of Spain, who threatened Constantinople,
the coasts of Italy, and several countries of the West, did not
reproach their enemies with making an unjust war, and left to fortune
and victory the care of deciding a question almost always useless.
We shall think it of more importance in this history to examine what
was the cause and the nature of these remote wars, and what has proved
to be their influence on civilization. The crusades were produced by
the religious and military spirit which prevailed in Europe during the
middle ages. The love of arms and religious fervour were two dominant
passions, which, mingling in some way, lent each other a mutual energy.
These two great principles united and acting together, gave birth to
the holy war; and carried, among the Crusaders, valour, resignation,
and heroism of character to the highest degree of eminence.
The part which the union of these two principles necessarily had in
the undertaking of the holy wars will be plainly perceived in our
narration. It will be much less easy for us to make all the results of
the crusades appreciated. Some writers have seen nothing in these great
expeditions but the most deplorable excesses, without any advantage to
the ages that succeeded them; others, on the contrary, maintain that we
owe to them all the benefits of civilization. It is not, at present, my
business to examine these two conflicting opinions. Without believing
that the holy wars have done either all the good or all the harm that
is attributed to them, it must be admitted that they were a source of
bitter sorrow to the generations that saw them or took part in them;
but, like the ills and tempests of human life, which render man better,
and often assist the progress of his reason, they have forwarded the
experiences of nations; and it may be said, that after having for a
time seriously agitated and shaken society, they have, in the end,
much strengthened the foundations of it. This opinion, when stripped
of all spirit of exaggeration or system, will, perhaps, appear the
most reasonable; I, besides, experience some pleasure in adopting it,
from its being consolatory to the age in which we live. The present
generation which has witnessed the outbreak of so many passions on
the political scene, which has passed through so many calamities,
will not see without interest that Providence sometimes employs great
revolutions to enlighten mankind, and to ensure the future prosperity
of empires.
CONTENTS TO VOL. I.
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES OF THE AUTHOR _Page_ vii
INTRODUCTION TO THE HISTORY OF THE CRUSADES xv
BOOK I.—A.D. 300-1095.
FIRST CRUSADE.
Early pilgrimages to the Holy Land—Veneration for the
Holy Sepulchre—Palestine visited by the early Christians
—Jerusalem their peaceful asylum—Profaned by Fire
Worshippers—Recaptured by Heraclius—Spread of the
religion of Mahomet—Worship of the Magi annihilated
by Mohammedanism—Empire of Persia torn by intestine wars
—Anarchy of the East—Fanaticism and bravery of the
Saracens—Their conquests—Paganism annihilated by
Mohammedanism—Monarchy of the Goths overturned—Charles
Martel—The caliph Omar captures Jerusalem—Christians
persecuted by the Mussulmans—Pilgrimages of Peter the
Hermit, &c.—Haroun-al-Raschid—Charlemagne—Siege of
Constantinople—Bagdad—Conquest of the Arabians—
St. Bernard—-Commerce of the East—Caliphs of Bagdad—The
Fatimites—The Greeks—Antioch—Zimisces, emperor of the
Greeks—Fatimite caliphs capture Jerusalem—Caliphs of
Cairo—William of Tyre—Persecutions of the Jews—Pilgrims
welcomed everywhere—King Robert—Memphis—Bethlehem—
Monasteries for the pilgrims—Hospitals at Jerusalem—
Mystery of the Redemption—Pilgrimages of distinguished
persons the forerunner of the Crusades—The Turks—The
Sultan Mamouh—Togrul-Beg—Victorious career of the Turks
—Malek-Scha—Jerusalem captured—Nicea—The Greeks—The
Seldjouc tribes—Eleven emperors of Constantinople put to
death—Death of Zimisces—Military ardour of the Franks—
Michael Ducas—Pope Gregory VII.—Power of the popes—Rome
—Pope Hildebrand—Pope Victor III. incites the Christians
to take arms against the infidels—Conquests of the
Genoese and Pisans—Peter the Hermit—His interviews with
the patriarch of Jerusalem and Pope Urban II.—The
crusades instigated by Peter—First determined on at the
council of Clermont, convoked by Urban II.—Enthusiasm in
their favour pp. 1-60.
BOOK II.—A.D. 1096-1097.
Immense armies collected in various parts of Europe—Peter
the Hermit chosen general of the crusade—Opposed by the
Hungarians and Bulgarians—Semlin—Nissa—The Crusaders
reach Constantinople—Alexius Comnenus—Rapacity and
cruelties of the Crusaders—Their defeat and slaughter—
Fresh armies sent from Europe—Their distinguished leaders
—They wage war against the Greeks—Alliance of Godfrey
de Bouillon with Alexius of Constantinople—Wretched
situation of the remains of Peter’s army in Bithynia—The
Turkish power—Kingdom of Ezeroum—Siege of Nice—Battle
of Gorgoni—The Turks defeated by the Crusaders—Sultan of
Nice desolates the country—Antiochetta—Iconium—Tarsus
captured by Baldwin—His conflicts with Tancred—Capture
of Alexandretta and Edessa by the Crusaders—They arrive
in Mesopotamia pp. 61-125.
BOOK III.—A.D. 1097-1099.
The Crusaders everywhere triumphant—Their sufferings in
passing Mount Taurus—Enter Syria—Damascus—Aleppo—Capture
of Chalcis and Artesia—Siege of Antioch—Sweno, king of
Denmark—Barbarous treatment of the Turks—Ambassadors from
Egypt—City of Harem—The Crusaders relieved by the Pisans
and Genoese—-Baldwin, prince of Edessa—Antioch captured—
Quarrel of Godfrey de Bouillon and Bohémond—Kerbogha,
sultan of Mossoul—Sultan of Persia sends an immense army
against the Crusaders—Contests before Antioch—Sufferings
of the Crusaders—Subtle policy of Alexius—Kerbogha
besieges Antioch—Pretended miracles—The sacred lance—
Speech of Peter the Hermit to the Saracen leaders, and
Kerbogha’s haughty reply—Saracens defeated by the
Crusaders—Instances of heroic bravery—Magnificent
encampment of Kerbogha—The miraculous influence of the
holy lance doubted—Death of Baldwin count of Hainault—
Fatal epidemic at Antioch—Death of Bishop Puy—Docility of
a lion—Geoffrey de la Tour—Foulque and his widow—Hezas,
the emir, allies himself with the Crusaders, and defeats
the sultan of Aleppo—Letters conveyed by pigeons—
Miraculous prodigies—Capture of Maarah—Conquests in Syria
by the Crusaders pp. 126-186.
BOOK IV.—A.D. 1099-1103.
The Crusaders take their departure from Antioch, and march
for Palestine—Siege of Archas—Pons de Balasu—Arnold de
Rohés, and his disbelief in prodigies—Fanaticism, of
Barthélemi—The holy lance—Ordeal by fire—Hatred of the
Latins towards the Greeks—Caliph of Cairo—Emir of Tripoli
defeated—Palestine—Phœnicia—Plain of Berytus—Serpents—
Ptolemaïs—Emmaus and Bethlehem—Alarm from an eclipse—The
city of Jerusalem—Enthusiasm of the Crusaders on first
beholding it—Siege of Jerusalem—Indignities heaped upon
the Christians—Fountain of Siloë—The Genoese fleet enter
the port of Jaffa—Gaston de Béarn—Mount of Olives—Address
of Arnold de Rohés—Speech of Peter the Hermit to the
Crusaders—Tower of Tancred—Machines used at the siege of
Jerusalem—The Saracen magicians—Miraculous appearance of
St. George—The Crusaders enter Jerusalem by storm—Creton
Rheimhault—Everard de Puysaie—Mosque of Omar—Slaughter of
the Mussulmans, and pious fervour of the Christians—
Destruction of the Jews—Wealth found in Jerusalem—
Discovery of the “true cross”—Speech of the count of
Flanders—Prophetic visions—Godfrey elected king of
Jerusalem—Rejoicings among the Christians, and despair of
the Mussulmans—Elegy of Modhaffer Abyverdy—Afdhal, the
Mussulman commander—Signal defeat of the Saracens at
Ascalon—Tasso—Godfrey’s quarrel with Raymond—Siege of
Ascalon—Riou de Loheac—Stephen de Salviac—Peter de Salviac
—Death of Gaston de Béarn—Peter the Hermit and many of the
Christian leaders return to Europe—William IX., count of
Flanders, sets out for the East—William, count de Nevers,
defeated by the Turks—Eude, duke of Burgundy, slain—
Conrad, marshal of Henry I. of Germany—Wolf IX., duke of
Bavaria—Humbert II., count of Savoy, departs for the Holy
Land—Alexius, emperor of Constantinople, opposes the
Crusaders—City of Ancyra captured—The Crusaders defeated
by the Turks—Capture of Tortosa—Invasions of the Tartars
—Tasso’s “Jerusalem Delivered”—Ordinances of Gaston de
Béarn pp. 187-264.
BOOK V.—A.D. 1099-1148.
Kingdom founded by the victories of the Crusaders—State
of Palestine at that period—Political measures of Godfrey
—Tiberias captured by Tancred—Siege of Arsur—Jerusalem
visited by numerous pilgrims and distinguished Crusaders—
Archbishop Daimbert elected patriarch of Jerusalem
“Assizes of Jerusalem”—Death of Godfrey—His brother
Baldwin elected king—Carries on successful hostilities
against the Infidels of Palestine, Egypt, &c.—Cæsarea and
Arsur besieged and captured—City of Ramla taken by the
Saracens—Hospitallers of St. John—Insidious policy of
Alexius—Josselin de Courtenay—Baldwin taken prisoner—
Bohémond, prince of Antioch, visits Italy, and returns
with a large army against Alexius—His death—Release of
Baldwin—Distresses of Antioch—Quarrels between Baldwin
and the patriarch of Jerusalem—The Genoese and Pisan
fleets assist the Crusaders—Siege and capture of Ptolemaïs
—Armies of Egypt defeated—Tripoli, Biblies, Sarepta,
Berytus, and Sidon, taken by the Crusaders—Sigur, prince
of Norway—The “true cross”—Death of Tancred—The Christians
defeated—Palestine devastated—Death of Baldwin—Baldwin du
Bourg elected king of Jerusalem—Taken prisoner—Eustache
Grenier, regent—The Venetians destroy the fleet of the
Saracens, and conquer Tyre—Release of Baldwin—Several
cities of Egypt captured—The Ismaëlians—Zengui, prince of
Mossoul—Dynasty of the Atabecks—Flourishing state of
Antioch, Edessa, Tripoli, &c.—Knights of St. John and of
the Holy Sepulchre—The Templars—Death of Baldwin du Bourg—
Foulque of Anjou crowned king of Jerusalem—Raymond of
Poictiers appointed governor of Antioch—The emperor of
Constantinople attacks Antioch—Melisende, queen of
Jerusalem—Baldwin III. ascends the throne—Disastrous
retreat from Bosra—The country of Traconite—Conquests of
Zengui—Death of Josselin de Courtenay—Noureddin, son of
Zengui, captures Edessa, and threatens Jerusalem pp. 265-328.
BOOK VI.—A.D. 1142-1148.
SECOND CRUSADE.
Europe aroused to a second crusade by the impending
dangers of Jerusalem and the Holy Land—The Abbot St.
Bernard—Louis VII. of France—He destroys Vitri, repents,
and determines on a crusade against the infidels—Pope
Eugenius III. invokes the assistance of the faithful—Pons,
abbot of Vezelai—Preaching of St. Bernard—State of the
Germanic empire—Conrad III. invokes a general diet at
Spires, and engages in the crusade—Many distinguished
personages take the cross—Enthusiasm of the Germans—Conrad
and Louis VII. arrive at Constantinople—Hypocritical
policy of the emperor, and treachery of the Greeks—Alarm
created by an eclipse of the sun—The Crusaders defeated by
the Turks—The oriflamme—Fatal blunder of Geoffrey de
Rançon—Reported death of Louis VII.—Everard des Barres,
grand master of the Templars—Perfidious policy of the
Greeks—Sufferings of the Crusaders—Louis VII. arrives at
Antioch with a small portion of his army—Eleanor of
Guienne repudiated by her husband, Louis VII.—He proceeds
to the Holy Land—Conrad arrives at Jerusalem—Baldwin III.
urges on the war—The Crusaders besiege Damascus, and are
repulsed—Ayoub, the father of Saladin—The Sclaves—
Crusaders in Spain and Portugal—Suger, minister of France—
Unfortunate results of this crusade—The conquests of
Noureddin—The deaths of Raymond, Josselin, Suger, and
St. Bernard pp. 329-381.
BOOK VII.—A.D. 1148-1188.
THIRD CRUSADE.
The religion of Mahomet—State of the East at the time of
the third crusade—Dynasties of the Saracens and the Turks
almost annihilated—Caliphs of Bagdad, the chiefs of
Islamism—Heroic character of Noureddin—Capture of Ascalon
by Baldwin III.—Baldwin’s death—His brother Amaury elected
his successor—Distracted state of Egypt—Warlike
preparations against—Capture of Bilbeis by Baldwin—The
Syrians invade Egypt—Baldwin marries the daughter of the
emperor Manuel—Makes war on Egypt—Deposition and death of
the caliph. The Fatimite dynasty extinguished—Extensive
power of Noureddin, the sultan of Aleppo and Damascus—
Saladin, the vizier of Egypt—Death of Noureddin—Empire of
the Atabecks declines—Death of Amaury—The victories of
Saladin in Syria—Baldwin IV., king of Jerusalem—The
Mamelukes—Guy of Lusignan—Renaud de Chatillon—Raised to
the throne of Antioch—His various military adventures—
Rebellion of Guy de Lusignan—Distracted state of Jerusalem
—Interview between Henry II. of England and Heraclius,
patriarch of Constantinople—Philip Augustus, king of
France—Deaths of Baldwin IV. and V.—Guy de Lusignan, the
sovereign of Jerusalem—Sybilla, daughter of Amaury—The
Templars defeated with great slaughter—Tiberias taken by
Saladin—Disastrous defeat of the Christians—Capture of the
“true cross”—Guy de Lusignan and many distinguished
knights taken prisoners or slain—Saladin captures
Ptolemaïs, Ascalon, Gaza, and numerous other cities in
Palestine—He takes possession of Jerusalem—Sufferings of
the Christians—The archbishop of Tyre preaches in support
of the holy war—Henry II. of England, Richard I. and
Philip of France determine on renewing the holy war—
Persecution and massacre of the Jews—Archbishop Baldwin
preaches the crusade in England—Frederick Barbarossa
engages in the crusade—Miraculous vision—Contentions
between the Greeks and the Latins—Andronicus of
Constantinople dethroned—The Greeks defeated by Barbarossa
—His victorious career—His death pp. 382-450.
BOOK VIII.—A.D. 1188-1192.
The conquests of Saladin—Conrad of Montferrat—Siege of
Tyre—Marquis of Montferrat—The “Green Knight”—Siege of
Tripoli—William, king of Sicily, engages in the holy war—
Admiral Margaritt defends Tripoli—Capture of Tortosa—
Heroic defence of Carac—Release of Guy de Lusignan—His
siege of Ptolemaïs, and his numerous conflicts with
Saladin—Description of Ptolemaïs—Karacoush, minister of
Saladin—Conrad, marquis of Tyre, fits out a fleet for the
Holy Land—Bravery of the Mamelukes—Death of André de
Brienne—Defeat of the Crusaders at Ptolemaïs by Saladin—
Death of Frederick, duke of Swabia, and of Sybilla, wife
of Guy de Lusignan—Disputes about the succession to the
kingdom of Jerusalem—Humphrey de Thorone—Conrad—Eleanor of
Guienne—Philip of France arrives at Palestine—Cyprus
captured by Richard I.—His marriage to Berengaria of
Navarre—Jane, queen of Sicily—Isaac Comnenus—Disputes
respecting the sovereignty of Jerusalem—Arrival of Richard
I. before the walls of Ptolemaïs—His quarrels with Philip
of France—Conflicts with Saladin—Ptolemaïs taken by the
Christians—Guy de Chatillon, Josselin de Montmorency, and
some of the bravest nobility of Europe, slain—The
Mohammedans—Leopold, duke of Austria—Philip of France
quits Palestine, and returns to France—Battle of Arsur—
Ascalon destroyed by Saladin, and rebuilt by Richard I.—
Richard marches on Jerusalem—Conrad assassinated—Treaty of
peace between Richard and Saladin—Guy de Lusignan obtains
the sovereignty of Cyprus—Palestine ceded to Henry, count
of Champagne—Characters of Richard I. and of Saladin—
Leopold of Austria detains Richard as a prisoner—Death of
Saladin—Malek-Adel takes possession of Egypt pp. 451-509.
HISTORY
OF
THE CRUSADES.
BOOK I.
A.D. 300-1095.
FROM the earliest ages of the Church, a custom had been practised
of making pilgrimages to the Holy Land. Judea, full of religious
remembrances, was still the promised land of the faithful; the
blessings of heaven appeared to be in store for those who visited
Calvary, the tomb of Jesus Christ, and renewed their baptism in the
waters of the Jordan. Under the reign of Constantine, the ardour for
pilgrimages increased among the faithful; they flocked from all the
provinces of the empire to worship Jesus Christ upon his own tomb,
and to trace the steps of their God in that city which had but just
resumed its name, and which the piety of an emperor had caused to
issue from its ruins. The Holy Sepulchre presented itself to the eyes
of the pilgrims surrounded by a magnificence which redoubled their
veneration. An obscure cavern had become a marble temple, paved with
precious stones and decorated with splendid colonnades. To the east of
the Holy Sepulchre appeared the church of the Resurrection, in which
they could admire the riches of Asia, mingled with the arts of Greece
and Rome. Constantine celebrated the thirty-first year of his reign by
the inauguration of this church, and thousands of Christians came, on
occasion of this solemnity, to listen to the panegyric of Christ from
the lips of the learned and holy bishop Eusebius.
St. Helena, the mother of the emperor, repaired to Jerusalem, at a very
advanced age, and caused churches and chapels to be built upon Mount
Tabor, in the city of Nazareth, and in the greater part of the places
which Christ had sanctified by his presence and his miracles. From
this period, pilgrimages to the Holy Land became much more frequent.
The pilgrims, no longer in dread of the persecutions of the Pagans,
could now give themselves up, without fear, to the fervour of their
devotion; the Roman eagles, ornamented with the cross of Jesus Christ,
protected them on their march; they everywhere trampled underfoot the
fragments of idols, and they travelled amidst the abodes of their
fellow-Christians.
When the emperor Julian, in order to weaken the authority of the
prophecies, undertook to rebuild the temple of the Jews, numerous
were the prodigies related by which God confounded his designs, and
Jerusalem, for that attempt even, became more dear to the disciples
of Jesus Christ. The Christians did not cease to visit Palestine. St.
Jerome, who, towards the end of the fourth century, had retired to
Bethlehem, informs us in one of his letters that pilgrims arrived in
crowds in Judea, and that around the holy tomb the praises of the Son
of God were to be heard, uttered in many languages. From this period,
pilgrimages to the Holy Land were so numerous, that several doctors and
fathers of the Church thought it their duty to point out the abuses
and danger of the practice. They told Christians that long voyages
might turn them aside from the path of salvation; that their God was
not confined to one city; that Jesus Christ was everywhere where faith
and good works were to be found; but such was the blind zeal which
then drew the Christians towards Jerusalem, that the voice of the holy
doctors was scarcely heard.[4] The counsels of enlightened piety were
not able to abate the ardour of the pilgrims, who believed they should
be wanting in faith and zeal, if they did not adore Jesus Christ in
the very places where, according to the expression of St. Jerome, the
light of the gospel first shone from the top of the holy cross.
As soon as the people of the West became converted to Christianity,
they turned their eyes to the East. From the depths of Gaul, from the
forests of Germany, from all the countries of Europe, new Christians
were to be seen hastening to visit the cradle of the faith they had
embraced. An itinerary for the use of pilgrims served them as a guide
from the banks of the Rhone and the Dordogne to the shores of the
Jordan, and conducted them, on their return, from Jerusalem to the
principal cities of Italy.[5]
When the world was ravaged by the Goths, the Huns, and the Vandals,
the pilgrimages to the Holy Land were not at all interrupted. Pious
travellers were protected by the hospitable virtues of the barbarians,
who began to respect the cross of Christ, and sometimes even followed
the pilgrims to Jerusalem. In these times of trouble and desolation, a
poor pilgrim, who bore his scrip and staff, often passed through fields
of carnage, and travelled without fear amidst armies which threatened
the empires of the East and the West.
Illustrious families of Rome came to seek an asylum at Jerusalem, and
upon the tomb of Jesus Christ. Christians then found, on the banks of
the Jordan, that peace which seemed to be banished from the rest of the
world. This peace, which lasted several centuries, was not troubled
before the reign of Heraclius. Under this reign, the armies of Cosroës,
king of Persia, invaded Syria, Palestine, and Egypt; the holy city fell
into the hands of the worshippers of fire; the conquerors bore away
into captivity vast numbers of Christians, and profaned the churches of
Jesus Christ. All the faithful deplored the misfortunes of Jerusalem,
and shed tears when they learned that the king of Persia had carried
off, among the spoils of the vanquished, the cross of the Saviour,
which had been preserved in the church of the Resurrection.
Heaven, at length, touched by the prayers and affliction of the
Christians, blessed the arms of Heraclius, who, after ten years of
reverses, triumphed over the enemies of Christianity and the empire,
and brought back to Jerusalem the Christians whose chains he had
broken. Then was to be seen an emperor of the East, walking barefooted
in the streets of the holy city, carrying on his shoulders to the
summit of Calvary, the wood of the true cross, which he considered the
most glorious trophy of his victories. This imposing ceremony was a
festival for the people of Jerusalem and the Christian church, which,
latter still, every year celebrates the memory of it.[6] When Heraclius
re-entered Constantinople, he was received as the liberator of the
Christians, and the kings of the West sent ambassadors to congratulate
him.
But the joy of the faithful was not of long duration. Towards the
beginning of the seventh century there had arisen, in an obscure
corner of Asia, a new religion, opposed to all others, which preached
dominion and war. Mahomet had promised the conquest of the world to
his disciples, who had issued almost naked from the deserts of Arabia.
By his passionate doctrine he was able to inflame the imagination
of the Arabs, and on the field of battle knew how to inspire them
with his own impetuous courage. His first successes, which must have
greatly exceeded his hopes, were like so many miracles, increasing the
confidence of his partisans, and carrying conviction to the minds of
the weak and wavering. The political state of the East seemed to offer
no obstacle to the progress of a sect, which, from its birth, showed
itself everywhere with fire and sword. The worship of the Magi was
sinking into contempt; the Jews scattered throughout Asia were opposed
to the Sabeans, and divided amongst themselves; and the Christians,
under the names of Eutychians, Nestorians, Maronites, and Jacobites,
were engaged in heaping, reciprocally, anathemas upon one another. The
empire of Persia, torn by intestine wars, and attacked by the barbarous
races of Tartary, had lost both its power and splendour; that of the
Greeks, weakened both within and without, was hastening to its fall;
“every thing was perishing in the East,” says Bossuet. A new religion,
a new empire, sprang up easily in the midst of ruins. The armed
doctrine of Mahomet invaded, within a very short period, the three
Arabias, a part of Syria, and a large division of Persia.
After the death of the Prophet of Mecca, his lieutenants and the
companions of his first exploits carried on his great work. The sight
of conquered provinces only increased the fanaticism and the bravery
of the Saracens. They had no fear of death in the field of battle,
for, according to the words of their prophet, paradise, with all its
voluptuous pleasures, awaited those who precipitated themselves upon
the enemy, and behind them hell opened its abysses. Their conquests
were so much the more rapid, from their uniting, in their military
and religious government, the prompt decision of despotism with all
the passions that are met with in a republic. Masters of Persia and
Syria, they soon took possession of Egypt; their victorious battalions
flowed on into Africa, planted the standard of the Prophet upon the
ruins of Carthage, and carried the terror of their arms to the shores
of the Atlantic. From India to the Straits of Cadiz, and from the
Caspian Sea to the ocean, language, manners, religion, everything was
changed; what had remained of Paganism was annihilated, together with
the worship of the Magi; Christianity scarcely subsisted, and Europe
itself was threatened with a similar destruction. Constantinople, which
was the bulwark of the West, saw before its walls innumerable hordes
of Saracens: several times besieged both by sea and land, the city of
Constantine only owed its safety to the Greek fire, to the assistance
of the Bulgarians, and to the inexperience of the Arabs in the art of
navigation.
During the first age of the Hegira, the conquests of the Mussulmans
were only bounded by the sea which separated them from Europe; but
when they had constructed vessels, no nation was safe from their
invasion; they ravaged the isles of the Mediterranean, the coasts of
Italy and Greece; fortune or treason made them masters of Spain, where
they overturned the monarchy of the Goths; they took advantage of the
weakness of the children of Clovis to penetrate into the southern
provinces of Gaul, and were only stopped in their invasions by the
victories of Charles Martel.
Amidst the first conquests of the Saracens, they had turned their eyes
towards Jerusalem. According to the faith of the Mussulmans, Mahomet
had been in the city of David and Solomon; it was from Jerusalem that
he set out to ascend into heaven in his nocturnal voyage. The Saracens
considered Jerusalem as the house of God, as the city of saints and
miracles. A short time after the death of the Prophet, the soldiers
of Omar besieged it. The Christians, animated by despair, swore to
defend the city. The siege lasted four months, each day being marked
by sorties or attacks; the Saracens approaching the walls repeating
the words of the Koran “Let us enter into the holy land which God has
promised us.” After enduring all the miseries of a long siege, the
inhabitants of Jerusalem at length surrendered to the caliph Omar, who
himself came into Palestine to receive the keys and the submission of
the conquered city.
The Christians had the grief of seeing the church of the Holy Sepulchre
profaned by the presence of the chief of the infidels. The patriarch
Sophronius, who accompanied the caliph, could not refrain from
repeating these words of Daniel, “The abomination of desolation is in
the holy place.” Jerusalem was filled with mourning, a gloomy silence
reigned in the churches, and in all the places in which the hymns of
the Christians had so long resounded. Although Omar had left them the
exercise of their worship, they were obliged to conceal their crosses
and their sacred books. The bell no longer summoned the faithful to
prayer; the pomp of ceremonies was interdicted, and religion appeared
but as a desolate widow. The caliph ordered a mosque to be erected
on the spot whereon the temple of Solomon had been built. The aspect
of this edifice, consecrated to the worship of the infidels, still
further increased the affliction of the Christians. History relates
that the patriarch Sophronius was unable to support the sight of so
many profanations, and died in despair, deploring the misfortunes and
captivity of the holy city.
In the mean time, the presence of Omar, of whose moderation the East
boasts, restrained the jealous fanaticism of the Mussulmans. After his
death the faithful had much more to suffer; they were driven from their
houses, insulted in their churches; the tribute which they had to pay
to the new masters of Palestine was increased, and they were forbidden
to carry arms or to mount on horseback. A leathern girdle, which they
were never allowed to be without, was the badge of their servitude; the
conquerors would not permit the Christians to speak the Arab tongue,
sacred to the disciples of the Koran; and the people who remained
faithful to Jesus Christ had not liberty even to pronounce the name of
the patriarch of Jerusalem without the permission of the Saracens.
All these persecutions could not stop the crowd of Christians who
repaired to Jerusalem; the sight of the holy city sustaining their
courage as it heightened their devotion. There were no evils, no
outrages, that they could not support with resignation, when they
remembered that Christ had been loaded with chains, and had died upon
the cross in the places they were about to visit. Among the faithful of
the West who arrived in Asia in the midst of the early conquests of the
Mussulmans, history has preserved the names of St. Arculphus and St.
Antoninus of Plaisance.[7] The latter had borne arms with distinction,
when he determined to follow the pilgrims who were setting out for
Jerusalem. He traversed Syria, Palestine, and Egypt. On his arrival on
the banks of the Jordan, Judea had not yet fallen into the hands of the
infidels; but the fame of their victories already filled the East, and
their armies were threatening the holy city. Several years after the
pilgrimage of St. Antoninus, Arculphus, accompanied by Peter, a French
hermit, set out from the coast of England in a vessel bound for Syria.
He remained nine months at Jerusalem, then under the dominion of the
enemies of Christ. On his return to Europe, he related what he had seen
in Palestine, and in all the sacred spots visited by the pilgrims of
the West. The account of his pilgrimage was drawn up by a holy monk of
the Hebrides, for the information and edification of the faithful.
The Christians of Palestine, however, enjoyed some short intervals of
security during the civil wars of the Mussulmans.[8] If they were not
freed from their bondage, they could at least weep in peace upon the
tomb of Christ. The dynasty of the Ommiades, which had established
the seat of the Mussulman empire at Damascus, was always odious to
the ever-formidable party of the Alides, and employed itself less in
persecuting the Christians than in preserving its own precarious power.
Merwan II., the last caliph of this house, was the most cruel towards
the disciples of Christ; and when he, with all his family, sunk under
the power of his enemies, the Christians and the infidels united in
thanks to heaven for having delivered the East from his tyranny.
The Abassides, established in the city of Bagdad, which they had
founded, persecuted and tolerated the Christians by turns. The
Christians, always living between the fear of persecution and the hope
of a transient security, saw at last the prospect of happier days dawn
upon them with the reign of Haroun al Raschid, the greatest caliph of
the race of Abbas. Under this reign the glory of Charlemagne, which
had reached Asia, protected the churches of the East.[9] His pious
liberality relieved the indigence of the Christians of Alexandria,
of Carthage, and Jerusalem. The two greatest princes of their age
testified their mutual esteem by frequent embassies: they sent each
other magnificent presents; and, in the friendly intercourse of
two powerful monarchs, the East and the West exchanged the richest
productions of their soil and their industry. The presents of Haroun
created a lively surprise in the court of Charlemagne, and gave a high
idea of the arts and riches of Asia. The monarch of the Franks took
pleasure in showing to the envoys of the caliph the magnificence of the
religious ceremonies of the Christians. Witnesses, at Aix-la-Chapelle,
of several processions, in which the clergy had exhibited all their
most precious ornaments, the ambassadors, on their return to Bagdad,
reported that they had seen _men of gold_.
There was no doubt policy in the marks of esteem which Haroun lavished
upon the most powerful of the princes of the West. He was making war
against the emperors of Constantinople, and might justly fear that
they would interest the bravest among Christian people in their cause.
The popular traditions of Byzantium foretold that the Latins would
some day be the liberators of Greece; and in one of the first sieges
of Constantinople by the Saracens, the report only of the arrival of
the Franks had reanimated the courage of the besieged, and carried
terror into the ranks of the Mussulmans. In the time of Haroun, the
name of Jerusalem already exercised so powerful an influence over
the Christians of the West, that it was sufficient to rouse their
warlike enthusiasm, and raise armies to serve against the infidels. To
take from the Franks every pretext for a religious war, which might
make them embrace the cause of the Greeks, and draw them into Asia,
the caliph neglected no opportunity of obtaining the friendship of
Charlemagne; and caused the keys of the holy city and of the holy
sepulchre[10] to be presented to him. This homage, rendered to the
greatest of the Christian monarchs, was celebrated with enthusiasm
in contemporary legends, which afterwards caused it to be believed
that this prince had made the voyage and completed the conquest of
Jerusalem.[11]
Haroun treated the Christians of the Latin Church as his own subjects;
and the children of the caliph imitated his moderation. Under their
sway, Bagdad was the abode of the sciences and the arts. The caliph
Almamon, says an Arabian historian, was not ignorant that they who
labour in the advancement of reason are the elect of God. Intelligence
polished the manners of the chiefs of Islamism, and inspired them
with a toleration till that time unknown to Mussulmans. Whilst the
Arabians of Africa were pursuing their conquests towards the West,
whilst they took possession of Sicily, and Rome itself saw its suburbs
and its churches of St. Peter and St. Paul invaded and pillaged by
infidels, the servants of Jesus Christ prayed in peace within the
walls of Jerusalem.[12] The pilgrims of the West, who arrived there
without danger, were received in an hospital, the foundation of which
was attributed to Charlemagne. According to the report of the monk
Bernard,[13] who himself performed the pilgrimage to the Holy Land,
about the middle of the ninth century, the hospital for the pilgrims
of the Latin Church was composed of twelve houses or hostelries. To
this pious establishment were attached fields, vineyards, and a garden,
situated in the Valley of Jehoshaphat. This hospital, like those which
the emperor of the West founded in the north of Europe, had a library
always open to Christians and travellers. From the tenth century there
existed in the neighbourhood of the Fountain of Siloë, a cemetery,
in which were interred the pilgrims who died at Jerusalem. Among the
tombs of the faithful dwelt the servants of God. This place, says
the relation of St. Antoninus, covered with fruit-trees, dotted with
sepulchres and humble cells, brings together the dead and the living,
and presents at once a cheerful and a melancholy picture.
To the desire of visiting the tomb of Jerusalem was joined the earnest
wish to procure relics, which were then sought for with eagerness by
the devotion of the faithful. All who returned from the East made
it their glory to bring back to their country some precious remains
of Christian antiquity, and above all the bones of holy martyrs,
which constituted the ornament and the riches of their churches, and
upon which princes and kings swore to respect truth and justice. The
productions of Asia likewise attracted the attention of the people of
Europe. We read in[14] Gregory of Tours, that the wine of Gaza was
celebrated in France in the reign of Gontran;[15] that the silk and
precious stones of the East added to the splendour of the dresses of
the great and the noble; and that St. Eloi, at the court of Dagobert,
did not disdain to clothe himself in the rich stuffs of Asia. Commerce
attracted a great number of Europeans to Egypt, Syria, and Palestine.
The Venetians, the Genoese, the Pisans,—the merchants of Amalfi and
Marseilles,—had all stores at Alexandria, in the maritime cities
of Phenicia, and in the city of Jerusalem. Before the church of St.
Marie-la-Latine, says the monk Bernard, already quoted, extended a
large place or square, which was called the Market of the Franks. Every
year, on the 15th of September, a fair was opened on Mount Calvary, in
which were exchanged the productions of Europe for those of the East.
Greek and Syrian Christians were established even in the city of
Bagdad, where they devoted themselves to trade, exercised the art of
medicine, and cultivated the sciences. They attained by their learning
the most considerable employments, and sometimes even obtained the
command of cities and the government of provinces. One of the caliphs
of the race of Abbas[16] declared that the disciples of Christ were the
most worthy to be trusted with the administration of Persia. In short,
the Christians of Palestine and the Mussulman provinces, the pilgrims
and travellers who returned from the East, seemed no longer to have any
persecutions to dread, when all at once new storms broke out in the
East. The children of Haroun soon shared the fate of the posterity of
Charlemagne, and Asia, like the West, was plunged into the horrors of
anarchy and civil war.
As the empire founded by Mahomet had for its principle the spirit of
conquest; as the state was not defended by any provident institution;
and as all depended upon the personal character of the prince, it
might easily be perceived that symptoms of decay began to appear
as soon as there remained nothing else to conquer, and the chiefs
ceased either to make themselves feared or to inspire respect. The
caliphs of Bagdad, rendered effeminate by luxury, and corrupted by
long prosperity, abandoned the cares of empire, buried themselves in
their seraglios, and appeared to reserve to themselves no other right
than that of being named in the public prayers. The Arabians were no
longer governed by that blind zeal, and that ardent fanaticism which
they had brought from the desert. Degenerated, like their chiefs, they
no longer resembled their warlike ancestors, who would weep at not
having been present at a battle. The authority of the caliphs had lost
its true defenders; and when despotism surrounded itself with slaves
purchased on the banks of the Oxus, this foreign militia, called in to
defend the throne, only precipitated its fall. New sectaries, seduced
by the example of Mahomet, and persuaded that the world would obey
those who should change its manners or opinions, added the danger of
religious dissensions to that of political troubles. In the midst
of the general confusion, the emirs or lieutenants, of whom several
governed vast kingdoms, no longer offered anything beyond a vain homage
to the successor of the Prophet, and refused to send him either money
or troops. The gigantic empire of the Abassides crumbled away on all
sides, and the world, according to the expression of an Arabian writer,
was within the reach of him who would take possession of it. The
spiritual power was itself divided; Islamism beheld at one time five
caliphs, each of whom assumed the title of commander of the faithful,
and vicar of Mahomet.
The numerous dynasties which sprung up amidst the troubles of Asia,
shared amongst them the spoils of the sovereigns of Bagdad; those which
ruled over Persia and upon the banks of the Tigris, under the pretence
of defending the Mussulman religion, subjected their spiritual chiefs
to the most humiliating subserviency. At the same time the Fatimites,
who pretended to be descended from Aly, and who had usurped the title
of caliph, raised armies, and launched anathemas against the Abassides;
they had taken possession of Egypt, and they threatened to invade
Syria, and to march to Bagdad, and dethrone the vicars of the Prophet.
The Greeks then appeared to rouse themselves from their long
supineness, and sought to take advantage of the divisions and the
humiliation of the Saracens. Nicephorus Phocas took the field at the
head of a powerful army, and recaptured Antioch from the Mussulmans.
Already the people of Constantinople celebrated his triumphs, and
styled him “_the star of the East, the death and the scourge of the
infidels_.” He might, perhaps, have merited these titles, if the Greek
clergy had seconded his efforts. Nicephorus was desirous of giving
to this war[17] a religious character, and to place in the rank of
martyrs all who should fall in prosecuting it. The prelates of his
empire condemned his design as sacrilegious, and opposed to him a
canon of St. Basil, the text of which recommended to him who had
killed an enemy to abstain during three years from a participation in
the holy mysteries. Deprived of the powerful stimulus of fanaticism,
Nicephorus found among the Greeks more panegyrists than soldiers, and
could not pursue his advantages against the Saracens, to whom, even in
their decline, religion prescribed resistance and promised victory.
His triumphs, which were celebrated at Constantinople with enthusiasm,
were confined to the taking of Antioch, and only served to create a
persecution against the Christians of Palestine. The patriarch of
Jerusalem, accused of keeping up an understanding with the Greeks,
expired at the stake, and several churches of the holy city were
consigned to the flames.
A Greek army, under the command of Temelicus, had advanced to the gates
of Amida, a city situated on the banks of the Tigris. This army was
attacked, in the midst of a hurricane, by the Saracens, who routed
it, and made a great number of prisoners. The Christian soldiers who
fell into the hands of the infidels, heard, in the prisons of Bagdad,
of the death of Nicephorus; and as Zimisces, his successor, gave no
attention to their deliverance, their chief wrote to him in these
terms: “You who leave us to perish in an accursed land, and who do
not deem us worthy to be buried, according to Christian usages, in
the tombs of our fathers, we cannot recognize you as the legitimate
chief of the holy Greek empire. If you do not avenge those who fell
before Amida, and those who now sigh in foreign lands, God will demand
a strict account of them of you, at the terrible day of judgment.”
When Zimisces received this letter at Constantinople, says an Armenian
historian,[18] he was penetrated with grief, and resolved to avenge
the outrage inflicted upon religion and the empire. On all sides
preparations were set on foot for a fresh war against the Saracens.
The nations of the West were no strangers to this enterprize, which
preceded, by more than a year, the first of the Crusades. Venice, which
then enjoyed the commerce of the East, forbade her people, under pain
of death, to convey to the Mussulmans of Africa and Asia, either iron,
wood, or any species of arms. The Christians of Syria and several
Armenian princes repaired to the standard of Zimisces, who took the
field, and carried war into the territories of the Saracens. So great
was the confusion which then prevailed among the Mussulman powers, and
with such rapidity did one dynasty succeed to another, that history
can scarcely distinguish what prince,[19] or what people ruled over
Palestine and Jerusalem. After having defeated the Mussulmans on the
banks of the Tigris, and forced the caliph of Bagdad to pay a tribute
to the successors of Constantine, Zimisces penetrated, almost without
resistance, into Judea, took possession of Cesarea, of Ptolemaïs, of
Tiberias, Nazareth, and several other cities of the Holy Land. He was
encamped upon Tabor when he received a deputation of the inhabitants
of Ramala and Jerusalem, who promised him obedience, and required of
him troops to defend their cities. Zimisces received their submission
and their request favourably,[20] and pursued the wreck of the Saracen
army, which had sought refuge in some cities of Phenicia and in the
mountains of Libanus.
After this first campaign, the Holy Land appeared to be on the eve
of being delivered entirely from the yoke of the infidels, when the
emperor died poisoned. His death at once put a stop to the execution
of an enterprize of which he was the soul and the leader. The Christian
nations had scarcely time to rejoice at the delivery of Jerusalem, when
they learnt that the holy city had again fallen into the hands of the
Fatimite caliphs, who, after the death of Zimisces, had invaded Syria
and Palestine.
The caliphs of Cairo, who had taken advantage of the transient
conquests of the Greeks to extend their empire, at first treated
the Christians as allies and auxiliaries. In the hope of enriching
their new dominions and repairing the evils of war, they favoured the
commerce of the Europeans, and tolerated the devotion of pilgrimages
to the Holy Land. The markets of the Franks were re-established in
the city of Jerusalem; the Christians rebuilt the hospitals of the
pilgrims, and the churches which were falling to decay. They began
to forget the peaceful domination of the Abassides, and felicitated
themselves upon living under the laws of the sovereigns of Cairo; and
still greater right had they to hope that all their troubles were about
to be at an end, when they saw the caliph Hakim, whose mother was a
Christian, ascend the throne. But God, who, according to the expression
of contemporary authors, wished to try the virtues of the faithful,
did not long delay to confound their hopes and raise new persecutions
against them.
Hakim, the third of the Fatimite caliphs, signalized his reign by
all the excesses of fanaticism and outrage. Unfixed in his own
projects, and wavering between two religions, he by turns protected
and persecuted Christianity. He respected neither the policy of his
predecessors nor the laws which he himself had established. He changed,
on the morrow, that which he had ordained the preceding day, and spread
disorder and confusion throughout his dominions. In the extravagance
of his mind and the intoxication of power, he carried his madness so
far as to believe himself a god. The terror which he inspired procured
him worshippers, and altars were raised to him in the neighbourhood of
Fostat, which he had given up to the flames. Sixteen thousand of his
subjects prostrated themselves before him, and adored him as sovereign
of the living and the dead.
Hakim despised Mahomet, but the Mussulmans were too numerous in his
states to allow him to think of persecuting them. The god trembled
for the authority of the prince, and allowed all his anger to fall
upon the Christians, whom he gave up to the fury of their enemies. The
places which the Christians held in the administration, and the abuses
introduced into the mode of levying the imposts, with which duty they
were charged, had drawn upon them the hatred of all the Mussulmans.
When the caliph Hakim had once given the signal for persecution, he
found himself at no loss for executioners. At first, they who had
abused their power were the objects of pursuit; the Christian religion
became the next crime, and the most pious among the faithful were
deemed the most guilty. The blood of the Christians flowed in all the
cities of Egypt and Syria, their courage in the midst of torments only
adding to the hatred of their persecutors. The complaints which escaped
them in their sufferings, the prayers, even, which they addressed to
Jesus Christ to put an end to their evils, were considered as a revolt,
and punished as the most guilty treasons.
It is probable that motives of policy joined with those of fanaticism
in the persecution of the Christians. Gerbert, archbishop of Ravenna,
who had become pope, under the name of Sylvester II., had witnessed
the ills to which the faithful were subjected in their pilgrimages to
Jerusalem. On his return he excited the nations of the West to take
up arms against the Saracens. In his exhortations, he made Jerusalem
herself speak, made her deplore her misfortunes, and conjure her
Christian children to hasten and break her chains. The people were
deeply moved with the complaints and groans of Sion. The Pisans, the
Genoese, with Boson, king of Arles, undertook a maritime expedition
against the Saracens, and made an incursion upon the coasts of Syria.
These hostilities, and the number of the pilgrims, which increased
every day, might well create distrust in the masters of the East. The
Saracens, alarmed by sinister predictions, and by the imprudent menaces
of the Christians, saw nothing but enemies in the disciples of Christ;
from that time terror and death guarded the gates of Jerusalem.
It is impossible, says William of Tyre, to describe all the species
of persecutions to which the Christians were then exposed. Among the
instances of barbarity cited by the historians, there is one which gave
to Tasso the idea of his affecting episode of Olindus and Sophronia.
One of the bitterest enemies of the Christians, in order to increase
the hatred of their persecutors, threw, in the night, a dead dog into
one of the principal mosques of the city. The first who repaired
thither to morning prayer were seized with horror at the sight of this
profanation, and proclaimed their anger aloud. Threatening clamours
soon resounded in every part of the city; the crowd assembled in a
state of tumultuous excitement around the mosque; the Christians were
at once accused of this act of sacrilege, and all swore to wash out
the outrage to their prophet in the blood of the perpetrators. All
Christians were about to be immolated to the revenge of the Mussulmans,
and already were they prepared for death, when a young man, whose name
history has not preserved, presented himself in the midst of them. “The
greatest misfortune that could happen,” said he, “would be that the
church of Jerusalem should perish. When a people is threatened with
destruction, it is just that a single man should sacrifice himself for
the salvation of all; I here and now offer myself as a victim to die
for you; to you I leave the charge of doing justice to my memory, and I
recommend myself to your prayers.” After pronouncing these words, which
dissolved the assembly in tears, he quitted them, and repaired to the
chiefs of the Mussulmans; he declared himself alone to be the author of
the crime imputed to the Christians, and invoked upon himself the death
with which his brethren were menaced. The Mussulmans, without being in
the least touched by his generous devotion, were satisfied with the
victim who offered himself to their vengeance: the sword was no longer
suspended over the heads of the Christians, and he who had immolated
himself for their safety, went, according to the expression of William
of Tyre,[21] to receive in heaven the reward reserved for those whose
minds burn with a love of perfect charity.
Nevertheless, other misfortunes awaited the Christians of Palestine;
all religious ceremonies were interdicted; the greater part of the
churches were converted into stables; that of the Holy Sepulchre was
completely destroyed. The Christians, driven from Jerusalem, were
scattered throughout the countries of the East. Old historians relate,
that the world took part in the mourning of the holy city, and was
seized with trouble and consternation. Winter, with its frosts and
storms, showed itself in regions where, till that time, it had been
unknown. The Bosphorus and the Nile bore sheets of ice upon their
bosoms. Earthquakes were felt in Syria and Asia Minor; and their
shocks, which were repeated during two months, destroyed several large
cities. When the account of the destruction of the holy places arrived
in the West, it drew tears from all true Christians. We read in the
chronicle of the monk Glaber, that Europe had likewise been presented
with signs which foreboded great calamities: a shower of stones had
fallen in Burgundy, and a comet and threatening meteors had appeared
in the heavens. The agitation was extreme among all Christian nations;
nevertheless, they did not take up arms against the Mussulmans, but the
whole of their vengeance fell upon the Jews, whom all Europe accused of
having provoked the fury of the infidels.
The calamities of the holy city rendered it still more venerable in the
eyes of the faithful; persecution redoubled the pious delirium of those
who went into Asia to contemplate a city covered with ruins, and to
behold an empty sepulchre. It was in Jerusalem, filled with mourning,
that God most manifestly distributed his blessings and delighted to
point out his will. Impostors constantly took advantage of this opinion
of the Christian people, to mislead the credulity of the multitude. To
gain credit for their words, it was quite sufficient to exhibit letters
which, they said, had fallen from heaven into Jerusalem. At this
period, a prediction, which announced[22] the end of the world and the
approaching coming of Jesus Christ into Palestine, very much increased
the veneration of the people for the holy places. The Christians of the
West arrived in crowds at Jerusalem, with the design of dying there,
or there awaiting the coming of the sovereign judge. The monk Glaber
informs us, that the affluence of pilgrims surpassed all that could be
expected from the devotion of these remote times. First were seen on
the holy march the poor and the lower classes, then counts, barons, and
princes, all reckoning as nothing the grandeurs of the earth.
The inconstancy of Hakim had, in a degree, mitigated the misfortunes
of Jerusalem, and he had just granted liberty to the Christians to
rebuild their churches, when he died by the hand of the assassin. His
successor, guided by a wiser policy, tolerated both pilgrimages and the
exercise of the Christian religion. The church of the Holy Sepulchre
was not entirely rebuilt till thirty years after its destruction; but
the spectacle of its ruins still inflamed the zeal and the devotion of
the Christians.
In the eleventh century the Latin Church allowed pilgrimages to suffice
instead of canonical penitences; sinners were condemned to quit their
country for a time, and to lead a wandering life, after the example of
Cain. This mode of performing penance agreed better with the active and
restless character of the people of the West. It ought to be added,
that the devotion of pilgrimages, whatever may be the opinion of an
enlightened philosophy, has been received, and even encouraged, in all
religions. It belongs, too, to a sentiment natural to man. If the sight
of a land once inhabited by heroes and sages awakens in us touching
and noble remembrances; if the soul of the philosopher finds itself
agitated at the sight of the ruins of Palmyra, Babylon, or Athens; what
lively emotions must not the Christians have felt on beholding places
which God had sanctified by his presence and his blessings?
The Christians of the West, almost all unhappy in their own countries,
and who often lost the sense of their evils in long voyages, appeared
to be only employed in seeking upon earth the traces of a consoling
and helpful divinity, or of some holy personage. There existed no
province without its martyr or its apostle, whose support they went to
implore; there was no city or secluded spot which did not preserve
the tradition of a miracle, or had not a chapel open to pilgrims. The
most guilty of sinners, or the most fervent of the faithful, exposed
themselves to the greatest perils, and repaired to the most distant
places. Sometimes they directed their steps to Apulia and Calabria,
they visited Mount Gargan, celebrated by the apparition of St. Michael,
or Mount Cassin, rendered famous by the miracles of St. Benedict;
sometimes they traversed the Pyrenees, and, in a country given up to
the Saracens, esteemed themselves happy in praying before the relics of
St. Jago, the patron saint of Galicia. Some, like King Robert, went to
Rome, and prostrated themselves on the tombs of the apostles St. Peter
and St. Paul; others travelled as far as Egypt, where Christ had passed
his infancy, and penetrated to the solitudes of Scete and Memphis,
inhabited by the disciples of Anthony and Paul.
A great number of pilgrims undertook the voyage to Palestine; they
entered Jerusalem by the gate of Ephraim where they paid a tribute to
the Saracens. After having prepared themselves by fasting and prayer,
they presented themselves in the church of the Holy Sepulchre, covered
with a funeral cloth or robe, which they preserved with care during
the remainder of their lives, and in which they were buried after
their death. They viewed with holy respect Mount Sion, the Mount of
Olives, and the Valley of Jehoshaphat; they quitted Jerusalem to visit
Bethlehem, where the Saviour of the world was born; Mount Tabor,
rendered sacred by the transfiguration; and all the places memorable
for his miracles. The pilgrims next bathed in the waters of the
Jordan,[23] and gathered in the territory of Jericho palms which they
bore back as evidences and relics to the West.
Such were the devotion and spirit of the tenth and eleventh centuries,
that the greater part of the Christians would have thought themselves
wanting in the duties of religion if they had not performed some
pilgrimage. He who had escaped from a danger, or triumphed over his
enemies, assumed the pilgrim’s staff, and took the road to the holy
places; he who had obtained by his prayers the preservation of a
father or of a son, went to return his thanks to heaven far from his
domestic hearth, in places rendered holy by religious traditions. A
father often devoted his child in the cradle to a pilgrimage, and the
first duty of an affectionate and obedient son, when past the age of
childhood, was to accomplish the vow of his parents. More than once a
dream, a vision in the midst of sleep, imposed upon a Christian the
obligation of performing a pilgrimage. Thus, the idea of these pious
journeys mixed itself up with all the affections of the heart, and with
all the prejudices of the human mind.
Pilgrims were welcomed everywhere, and in return for the hospitality
they received, they were only asked for their prayers; often, indeed,
the only treasure they carried with them. One of them, desirous to
embark at Alexandria for Palestine, presented himself with his scrip
and staff on board a ship, and offered a book of the holy Evangelists
in payment for his passage. Pilgrims, on their route, had no other
defence against the attacks of the wicked but the cross of Christ, and
no other guides but those angels whom God has told “_to watch over his
children, and to direct them in all their ways_.”
The greatest merit in the eyes of the faithful, next to that of
pilgrimage, was to devote themselves to the service of the pilgrims.
Hospitals were built upon the banks of rivers, upon the heights of
mountains, in the midst of cities, and in desert places, for the
reception of these travellers. In the ninth century, the pilgrims who
left Burgundy to repair to Italy, were received in a monastery built
upon Mount Cenis. In the following century, two monasteries, in which
were received travellers who had strayed from their way, occupied the
places of the temples of idolatry on Montes Jovis,[24] and thence lost
the name they had received from Paganism, and took that of their pious
founder, St. Bernard de Menton. Christians who travelled to Judea,
found on the frontiers of Hungary, and in the provinces of Asia Minor,
a great number of asylums raised by charity.
Christians established at Jerusalem went to meet the pilgrims, and
often exposed themselves to a thousand dangers whilst conducting them
on their route. The holy city contained hospitals for the reception of
all travellers. In one of these hospitals the women who performed the
pilgrimage to Palestine, were received by religious females devoted to
the offices of charity. The merchants of Amalfi, Venice, and Genoa,
the richest among the pilgrims, and several princes of the West,
furnished, by their benevolence, the means of keeping these houses
open for all poor travellers.[25] Every year monks from the East came
into Europe to collect the self-imposed tribute of the piety of the
Christians. A pilgrim was a privileged being among the faithful. When
he had completed his journey, he acquired the reputation of particular
sanctity, and his departure and his return were celebrated by religious
ceremonies. When about to set out, a priest presented to him his scrip
and staff, together with a gown marked with a cross; he sprinkled
holy water over his vestments, and accompanied him, at the head of a
procession, as far as the boundaries of the next parish. On his return
to his country, the pilgrim gave thanks to God, and presented to the
priest a palm-branch, to be deposited on the altar of the church, as an
evidence of his undertaking being happily terminated.
The poor, in their pilgrimages, found certain resources against misery;
when coming back to their country, they received abundant alms. Vanity
sometimes induced the rich to undertake these long voyages, which made
the monk Glaber say, that many Christians went to Jerusalem to make
themselves admired, and to be enabled, on their return, to relate the
wonders they had seen. Many were influenced by the love of idleness
and change, others by curiosity and an inclination to see various
countries. It was by no means rare to meet with Christians who had
spent their lives in holy pilgrimages, and had visited Jerusalem
several times.
Every pilgrim was obliged to carry with him a letter from his prince
or his bishop, a precaution which must have prevented many disorders.
History does not record a single act of violence committed by one
of the travellers who absolutely covered the route to the East. A
Mussulman governor, who had seen a vast number of them pass to Emessa,
said: “They have not left their homes with any bad design; they only
seek to fulfil their law.”[26]
Every year, at the period of the festivals of Easter, numberless
troops of pilgrims arrived in Judea to celebrate the mystery of the
Redemption, and to behold the miracle of the sacred fire, which a
superstitious multitude believed they saw descend from heaven upon
the lamps of the holy sepulchre. There existed no crime that might
not be expiated by the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and acts of devotion
at the tomb of Christ. We find in the “Acts of the Saints,” that, in
the time of Lothaire, this opinion was established among the Franks.
An old relation, preserved by a monk of Redon, informs us that a
powerful lord of the duchy of Brittany, named Frotmonde, the murderer
of his uncle and his brother, presented himself in the habit of a
penitent before the king of France and an assembly of bishops. The
monarch and the prelates, as an expiation for the blood he had shed,
caused him to be tightly bound with chains of iron, and ordered him
to visit the holy places, his brow marked with ashes, and his body
clothed in a winding-sheet. Frotmonde, accompanied by his servants and
the accomplices of his crime, set out for Palestine; after having for
some time sojourned at Jerusalem, he crossed the desert, went to the
banks of the Nile, traversed a part of Africa, proceeded as far as
Carthage, and came back to Rome, where Pope Benedict III. advised him
to commence a new pilgrimage, to complete his penance and obtain an
entire remission of his sins. Frotmonde saw Palestine a second time,
penetrated as far as the shores of the Red Sea, remained three years on
Mount Sinai, and went into Armenia, to visit the mountain on which the
ark of Noah had rested after the deluge. On his return to his country
he was received as a saint; he shut himself up in the monastery of
Redon,[27] and died regretted by the cenobites whom he had edified by
the relation of his pilgrimages.
Many years after the death of Frotmonde, Centius, prefect of Rome, who
had used violence to the Pope in the church of St. Mary the Great, who
had dragged him from the altar, and placed him in a dungeon, needed
nothing more to expiate this sacrilege than to perform the pilgrimage
to the Holy Land. Foulque-Nerra, count of Anjou, charged with crimes,
and stained with blood, thought to efface all his cruelties by a voyage
to Jerusalem. His brother, whom he had caused to perish in a dungeon,
presented himself wherever he went, before his eyes; it appeared to him
that the numerous victims sacrificed to his ambition in unjust wars
issued from their tombs to disturb his sleep, and reproach him for his
barbarity. Pursued everywhere by these frightful images, Foulque left
his states, and repaired to Palestine, in the garb of a pilgrim. When
he arrived at Jerusalem, he passed through the streets of the holy
city with a cord about his neck, beaten with rods by his domestics,
repeating in a loud voice these words: “Lord, have pity on a perjured
and fugitive Christian.” During his abode in Palestine,[28] he bestowed
numerous benefactions, comforted the miseries of the pilgrims, and left
everywhere testimonials of his devotion and charity. He returned to his
duchy, bringing with him a portion of the true cross, and the stone
upon which he had knelt when he prayed before the tomb of Christ.
Foulque, on returning to his dominions, was desirous of having always
under his eyes an image of the places he had visited, and caused to
be built, near the castle of Loches, a monastery and a church, which
bore the name of the Holy Sepulchre. In the midst of the remembrances
of his pilgrimage, he still heard the voice of remorse, and set off a
second time for Jerusalem. He once more edified the Christians of the
holy city by the expressions of his repentance and the austerities
of his penance. As he was returning to his duchy, in passing through
Italy, he delivered the Roman state from a brigand who plundered the
towns and villages, and made war upon all merchants and pilgrims. The
pope praised his zeal and his bravery, gave him absolution for his
sins, and permitted him to bear about with him the relics of two holy
martyrs. When he left Rome, he was conducted in triumph by the people
and the clergy, who proclaimed him their liberator. On his arrival
in Anjou, he re-established peace in his dominions, which had been
in great confusion during his absence. Restored to his country, his
family, and his subjects, who had forgotten his cruelties; reconciled
with the Church, which declared him its benefactor, he appeared to
have no more crimes to expiate, or wishes to form for his old age; but
neither the absolution of the pope, nor the peace of his states, nor
the blessings of the people—nothing could calm his soul, for ever
torn with remorse. He could not escape from the image of his brother,
which pursued him still, and recalled to his mind the crimes with which
he had stained himself. Without cessation he was before him, pale,
disfigured, dragging his chains, and invoking heaven to take vengeance
on the fratricide. Foulque resolved to make a third pilgrimage to
Jerusalem; he returned into Palestine, watered anew the tomb of Christ
with his tears, and made the holy places resound with his groans. After
having visited the Holy Land, and recommended his soul to the prayers
of the anchorites charged to receive and console pilgrims, he quitted
Jerusalem to return to his country, which he was doomed never to see
again. He fell sick, and died at Metz. His body was transported to
Loches, and buried in the monastery of the Holy Sepulchre, which he
had caused to be built. His heart was deposited in a church at Metz,
where was shown, for many ages after his death, a mausoleum, which was
called the tomb of Foulque, count of Anjou.
At the same period, towards the middle of the eleventh century,
Robert-le-Frison, count of Flanders, and Berenger II., count of
Barcelona, resolved likewise to expiate their sins by the voyage to
the Holy Land. The latter died in Asia, not being able to support the
rigorous penances he had imposed upon himself. Robert came back to his
dominions, where his pilgrimage caused him to find grace in the eyes
of the clergy, whom he had wished to plunder. These two princes had
been preceded in their pilgrimage by Frederick, count of Verdun.[29]
Frederick was of the illustrious family which was one day to reckon
among its heroes Godfrey de Bouillon. On setting out for Asia, he
renounced earthly grandeur, and gave up his county to the bishop of
Verdun. Returned into Europe, he resolved to terminate his days in a
monastery, and died prior of the abbey of St. Wast, near Arras.
The weak and timid sex was not deterred by the difficulties and the
perils of a long voyage. Helena, born of a noble family of Sweden,
quitted her country, which was buried in idolatry, and travelled on
foot into the East. When, after having visited the holy places, she
returned to her country, she was sacrificed to the resentment of her
relations and her compatriots, and gathered, says an old legend, the
palm of martyrdom.[30] A few of the faithful, touched with her piety,
raised a chapel to her memory in the isle of Zealand, near a fountain,
which is still called the Fountain of St. Helena. The Christians of the
North for a long time went in pilgrimage to this island, where they
contemplated a grotto which Helena had inhabited before her departure
for Jerusalem.
Among the celebrated pilgrims of this age, we observe the name of
Robert II., duke of Normandy, father of William the Conqueror. History
accuses him of having caused his brother Richard to be poisoned.
Remorse urged him to make the pilgrimage to Palestine; and he set
out accompanied by a great number of knights and barons, bearing
the scrip and staff, walking barefoot, and clothed in the sack of
penitence. He attached, he said, more value to the pains he suffered
for Christ’s sake than to the richest city of his dukedom. On his
arrival at Constantinople, he despised the luxury and the presents of
the emperor, and appeared at court in the guise of the humblest of the
pilgrims. Having fallen sick in Asia Minor, he refused the services
of the Christians of his suite, and caused himself to be carried in
a litter by Saracens. Meeting a pilgrim from Normandy, the latter
asked him if he had any message that he could deliver for him to his
country. “Go and tell my people,” said the duke, “that you have seen a
Christian prince being carried to Paradise by devils.” When he arrived
at Jerusalem, he found a crowd of pilgrims, who, not having the means
of paying the tribute to the infidels, awaited the arrival of some rich
lord who might deign, by his charity, to open for them the gates of the
holy city. Robert paid a piece of gold for each of them, and followed
them into Jerusalem amidst the acclamations of the Christians. During
his sojourn here he caused himself to be remarked for his devotion, and
still more for his charity, which he extended even to the infidels. As
he was returning into Europe, he died at Nicea, in Bithynia, regarding
only the relics he had brought with him from Palestine, and regretting
that he had not finished his days in the holy city.
The greatest blessing for the pilgrims, and that which they demanded
of Heaven as a reward for their labours and fatigues, was to die, like
Jesus Christ, in the holy city. When they presented themselves before
the holy sepulchre, they were accustomed to offer up this prayer: “Thou
who died for us, and wast buried in this holy spot, take pity of our
misery, and withdraw us at once from this valley of tears.” History
tells of a Christian, born in the territory of Autun, who, on his
arrival at Jerusalem, sought death in the excess of his fastings and
mortifications. One day he remained a long time in prayer on the Mount
of Olives, with his eyes and his hands raised towards heaven, whither
God seemed to call him. On his return to the hospital of the pilgrims,
he cried three times, “_Glory to thee, oh God!_”[31] and died suddenly
in the sight of his companions, who envied him his fate, and believed
themselves witnesses of a miracle.
The inclination to acquire holiness by the journey to Jerusalem became
at length so general, that the troops of pilgrims alarmed by their
numbers the countries through which they passed, and although they
came not as soldiers, they were designated “_the armies of the Lord_.”
In the year 1054, Litbert, bishop of Cambrai, set out for the Holy
Land, followed by more than three thousand pilgrims from the provinces
of Picardy and Flanders.[32] When he began his march, the people and
the clergy accompanied him three leagues from the city, and with eyes
bathed in tears, implored of God the happy return of their bishop and
their brethren. The pilgrims traversed Germany without encountering
any enemies, but on reaching Bulgaria, they found none but men who
inhabited the forests and subsisted upon plunder. Many were massacred
by these barbarous people, and some perished with hunger in the midst
of the deserts. Litbert arrived with much difficulty at Laodicea,
embarked with those who followed him, and was cast upon the coast of
Cyprus by a tempest. He had seen the greater part of his companions
perish, and the remainder were nearly sinking under their various
miseries. Returned to Laodicea, they learnt that still greater dangers
awaited them on the route to Jerusalem. The bishop of Cambrai felt his
courage abandon him, and believed that God himself was opposed to his
pilgrimage. He returned through a thousand dangers to his diocese,
where he built a church in honour of the holy sepulchre, which he had
never seen.
Ten years after the voyage of Litbert, seven thousand Christians,
among whom were the archbishop of Mayence, and the bishops of Spires,
Cologne, Bamberg, and Utrecht, set out together from the banks of the
Rhine, to repair to Palestine. This numerous caravan, which was the
forerunner of the Crusades,[33] crossed Germany, Hungary, Bulgaria, and
Thrace, and was welcomed at Constantinople by the emperor Constantine
Ducas. After having visited the churches of Byzantium, and the numerous
relics which were the objects of the veneration of the Greeks, the
pilgrims of the West traversed Asia Minor and Syria without danger; but
when they approached Jerusalem, the sight of their riches aroused the
cupidity of the Bedouin Arabs, undisciplined hordes, who had neither
country nor settled abode, and who had rendered themselves formidable
in the civil wars of the East. The Arabs attacked the pilgrims of the
West, and compelled them to sustain a siege in an abandoned village;
and this was on a Good Friday. On such a sacred day, the pilgrims even
who had arms employed them with much hesitation and scruple. Enclosed
within the ruins of an old castle, they resisted for a time, but on
the third day famine compelled them to capitulate. When they came to
the arrangement of the conditions of the peace, there arose a violent
quarrel, which was near leading to the massacre of all the Christians
by the Arabs. The emir of Ramala, informed by some fugitives, came
happily to their rescue, delivered them from the death with which they
were threatened, and permitted them to continue their journey. As the
report of their combats and their perils had preceded them, their
arrival created a great sensation in Jerusalem. They were received in
triumph by the patriarch, and conducted, to the sound of timbrels and
by the light of torches, to the church of the Holy Sepulchre. During
their abode at Jerusalem, the misery into which they were fallen
excited the pity of the Christians. They could not visit the banks of
the Jordan, or the places most renowned in Judea, as these were all now
infested by the Arabs and exposed to their incursions. After having
lost more than three thousand of their companions, they returned to
Europe, to relate their tragical adventures, and the dangers of a
pilgrimage to the Holy Land.[34]