A.D. 1096-1097.
THE number of Christians who had taken the cross in the greater part
of the countries of Europe were quite sufficient to form many large
armies. As these armies might exhaust the countries through which they
had to pass, the princes and captains who were to conduct them agreed
among themselves that they should not all set out at one time, but
should pursue different routes, and meet again at Constantinople.
Whilst they were engaged in preparations for departure, the multitude
who followed Peter the Hermit in his preachings, became impatient
to advance before the other Crusaders; and being without a chief,
they cast their eyes upon him whom they considered as an envoy from
heaven. They chose Peter for their general; the cenobite, deceived by
the excess of his zeal, believed that enthusiasm could alone answer
for all the successes of war, and that it would be easy to conduct an
undisciplined troop which had taken up arms at the sound of his voice.
He yielded to the prayers of the multitude, and, clothed in his woollen
mantle, a hood over his head, sandals on his feet, and only mounted
on the mule upon which he had traversed Europe, he took upon himself
the command. His troop, which set out from the banks of the Meuse and
Moselle, proceeded towards Germany, and was increased upon the road
by a vast number of pilgrims hastening from Champagne, Burgundy, and
other parts of France. Peter soon saw from eighty to a hundred thousand
men under his standard. These first Crusaders, dragging in their train
women, children, old men, and numerous sick, began their march upon
the faith of the miraculous promises made them by their general; in
the persuasion they were filled with, that God himself called upon
them to defend his cause, they hoped that rivers would open before
their battalions, and that manna would fall from heaven to feed them.
The army of Peter the Hermit was divided into two bodies; the vanguard
marched under the orders of Walter the Penniless,[50] whose surname,
preserved by history, proves that the chiefs were as miserable as the
soldiers. This vanguard only reckoned eight horsemen; all the rest went
to the conquest of the East asking charity by the way. As long as the
Crusaders were upon the French territory, the charity of the faithful
who were on their route provided for their wants. They warmed the
zeal of the Germans, amongst whom the crusade had not been preached.
Their troop, which was considered everywhere as the people of God, met
with no enemies on the banks of the Rhine; but new Amalekites, the
Hungarians and the Bulgarians, awaited them on the shores of the Morava
and the Danube.
The Hungarians, who had issued from Tartary, had a common origin with
the Turks, and, like them, had rendered themselves formidable to the
Christians. In the tenth century they had invaded Pannonia, and carried
the ravages of war into the richest countries of Europe. Nations
terrified at the progress of their arms, considered them as a scourge
which was sent as a forerunner of the end of the world. Towards the
middle of the eleventh century they embraced the Christianity they had
persecuted. Once obedient to the faith of the Gospel, they began to
build cities and cultivate their land; they felt what it was to have
a country, and ceased to be the terror of their neighbours. At the
period of the first crusade, the Hungarians boasted of having a saint
among their kings,[51] but, still separated from the Christian republic
by their position, they did not at all partake of the fervour of the
Crusaders, and looked on with indifference at the preparations of
Europe for the conquest of Asia.
The Bulgarians, who were descended from the ancient people of
the Sclaves, had by turns protected and ravaged the empire of
Constantinople. Their warriors had killed Nicephorus in battle, and
the skull of an emperor, enchased in gold, served for a long time as
a cup for their chiefs in the orgies of victory. They were afterwards
conquered by Basil, who put out the eyes of fifteen thousand of his
prisoners, and by this act of barbarity roused the whole nation against
Greece. At the time of the crusade, Bulgaria was under the power of the
Greek empire, but it despised the laws and the power of its masters.
The Bulgarian people spread along the southern banks of the Danube, in
the midst of inaccessible forests, preserved their savage independence,
and only recognized the emperors of the East when they saw their
armies. Although they had embraced Christianity, the Bulgarians did not
consider the Christians as their brothers; they neither respected the
laws of nations nor the rights of hospitality, and during the eleventh
century they were the terror of the pilgrims of the West who journeyed
to Jerusalem.
Such were the people whose territories the Crusaders were about to
cross, and among whom want of discipline must necessarily expose them
to the most direful reverses. When the vanguard entered Hungary, they
were only disturbed in their march but by a few insults, which Walter
had the prudence not to avenge; but the resignation of the pilgrims
could not hold out long against the misery which every day increased.
Want and its attendant evils soon dispersed all the sentiments of
moderation to which religion had for a moment given birth in the hearts
of its defenders. The governor of Bulgaria not having been able to
furnish provisions, they spread themselves about over the country,
carried off the flocks, burnt the houses, and massacred several of
the inhabitants who opposed their violences. The irritated Bulgarians
ran to arms, and fell upon the soldiers of Walter loaded with their
booty. A hundred and forty Crusaders perished in the midst of flames,
in a church in which they had taken refuge; the rest sought safety
in flight. After this defeat, which he did not endeavour to repair,
Walter continued his march through the forests of Bulgaria, pursued by
famine, and dragging along the wreck of his army. He presented himself
as a supplicant before the governor of Nissa, who was touched with the
misery of the Crusaders, and gave them provisions, arms, and clothing.
The soldiers of Walter, tried by merited reverses, conducted by a chief
who was wanting in neither skill nor courage, became again attentive to
the voice of religion, and passed through Thrace without committing any
disorders. After two months of fatigue and misery, they arrived under
the walls of Constantinople, where the emperor Alexis permitted them to
wait for the army of Peter the Hermit.
This army, which was then passing through Germany, was about to be
treated worse than its vanguard had been. The cenobite Peter, more
enthusiastic than his soldiers, was more skilful in exciting their zeal
than in directing it. He showed neither the moderation nor the prudence
of his lieutenant, and had no idea how to avoid the dangers which
awaited him on his route. On arriving on the frontiers of Hungary, he
learnt the ill-fortune that his companions had met with,[52] and the
projects of hostilities formed, as he was told, against the army of
the pilgrims. The bodies of several of the Crusaders hung at the gates
of Semlin, which the historians of the crusades call _Malleville_,[53]
attracted his regard and drew forth his indignation. At this sight,
he gave the signal for vengeance and war. The trumpets sounded, the
soldiers seized their arms, and hastened to the carnage. Terror
preceded them into the city. On their first attack the people took to
flight, and sought refuge upon a hill, one side of which was defended
by woods and rocks, and the other by the Danube. They were pursued and
forced into this last asylum by the furious multitude of the Crusaders.
More than four thousand of the inhabitants of Semlin fell under the
swords of the conquerors. The bodies carried down by the river bore
the tidings of this horrible victory as far as Belgrade.
At this intelligence the Bulgarians and Hungarians were seized with
grief and indignation, and in all parts flew to arms. The Crusaders
still remained in Semlin, and were glorifying themselves upon their
triumph, when all at once an army, assembled in haste by Coloman,
king of Hungary, presented itself to their view. Peter had nothing
to oppose to his enemies but the soldiers whose blind fury he had
himself excited, and with whom it was impossible to make any military
disposition. He did not dare to wait for the army of Coloman, and
hastened to cross the Morava.
On gaining the territories of the Bulgarians, the Crusaders found the
villages and cities abandoned; even Belgrade, the capital, was without
inhabitants; they had fled into the forests and mountains. Peter’s
soldiers, after a painful march, in want of provisions, and with
difficulty finding guides to conduct them, arrived at last at the gates
of Nissa, a place sufficiently well fortified to be secure from a first
attack. The Bulgarians showing themselves upon their ramparts, and the
Crusaders leaning on their arms, inspired each other with a mutual
fear. This fear at first prevented hostilities; but harmony could not
last long between an army without discipline and a people that had been
irritated by violence.
The pilgrims, after having obtained provisions, had just set forward
on their march, when a quarrel between the inhabitants and some of
the soldiers caused war to break forth with inveteracy.[54] A hundred
German Crusaders, whom William of Tyre styles _children of Belial_, and
who fancied they had cause of complaint against some merchants, wishing
to avenge themselves, set fire to seven mills placed upon the Nissava.
At the sight of this fire, the inhabitants of Nissa rushed from their
ramparts, and falling upon Peter’s rear-guard, massacred all who
fell in their way, bore off two thousand carriages, and made a great
number of prisoners. Peter, who had already quitted the territory of
Nissa, warned of the disaster of his companions, returned immediately
with the bulk of his army. The eyes of the Crusaders on approaching
the city, were shocked everywhere by beholding the most sorrowful
spectacle. They recognized among the dead friends and brothers, and
burned to revenge them.
The cenobite, however, who feared fresh reverses, had recourse to
negotiations and prayers. Deputies were sent into Nissa, to demand the
prisoners and the baggage of his army, which had been taken by the
Bulgarians. These deputies reminded the governor that they had taken up
the cross, and that they were going to fight in the East for the cause
of Jesus Christ. They appealed to the religion and humanity of the
inhabitants of Nissa, whom they called their brethren.
The governor, who saw nothing in these peaceful words but the language
of fear, showed himself inflexible to their prayers. He sternly sent
them back to their general, telling them that the Crusaders had
themselves given the signal for the war, and that he could see in them
nothing but enemies. When this answer was reported to the army of
Peter, every soldier was fired with indignation. In vain the cenobite
endeavoured to calm their spirits and attempt fresh negotiations; they
accused his fidelity, they suspected his courage. The most ardent flew
to arms; nothing was heard but complaints and menaces; and no Crusader
would submit to any directions but those of his own angry will. Whilst
Peter was conferring with the governor of Nissa, two thousand soldiers
approached the ramparts, and endeavoured to scale them. They were
repulsed by the Bulgarians, and supported by a great number of their
companions. The fight became general, and the fire of carnage blazed on
all parts around the chiefs, who were still speaking of conditions of
peace. In vain the hermit had recourse to supplications, to stop the
mad progress of his soldiers, in vain he placed himself between the
combatants; his voice, so well known to the Crusaders, was lost in the
din of arms. They braved his authority; they despised his prayers. His
army, which fought without order and without leaders, was routed and
cut to pieces. The women, the children, who followed the Crusaders,
their horses, their camp equipages, the chest of the army, which
contained the numerous offerings of the faithful, all became the prey
of an enemy whose fury and vengeance nothing could stop.
The hermit Peter, with the wreck of his troop, took refuge on a hill
in the neighbourhood of the city. He passed the night in alarms,
deploring his defeat, and the sad effects of the violences of which
he had himself given the signal and the example among the Hungarians.
He had around him no more than five hundred men. The trumpets and the
clarions were sounded without ceasing, to recall those who had escaped
the carnage, and had lost themselves in their flight.
Whether it was that the Crusaders could find no safety but under their
own standards, or whether they were still mindful of their oath, none
turned back from the crusade. On the day following their defeat, seven
thousand fugitives came to rejoin their general. A few days after,
Peter mustered beneath his command thirty thousand combatants. All the
rest had perished in the battle fought under the walls of Nissa. The
army of the Crusaders, reduced to a deplorable condition, sought no
opportunity of avenging their defeat, but marched with melancholy steps
towards the frontiers of Thrace. They were without the means either
of subsisting or fighting. They had to fear a fresh defeat if they
encountered the Bulgarians, and all the horrors of famine if they came
to a desert country. Misfortune rendered them more docile, and inspired
them with sentiments of moderation. The pity which their misery excited
was more serviceable to them than the terror which they had wished
to create. When they ceased to be an object of dread, assistance was
afforded them. When they entered the territories of Thrace, the Greek
emperor sent deputies to complain of their disorders, but at the same
time to announce his clemency. Peter, who dreaded new disasters, wept
with joy when he learnt that he had found favour with Alexis. Full of
confidence and hope, he pursued his march, and the Crusaders, carrying
palms in their hands, arrived without further obstacles under the walls
of Constantinople.
The Greeks, who entertained no love for the Latins, were more prodigal
and kind in the assistance they afforded them from finding them less
formidable. They secretly applauded the courage of the Bulgarians,
and contemplated with complacency the warriors of the West covered
with the rags of indigence. The emperor was desirous of seeing the
extraordinary man who had roused the western world by his eloquence,
and Peter was admitted to an audience of Alexis. In the presence of
all his court, the emperor extolled the zeal of the preacher of the
crusade; and as he had nothing to fear from the ambition of a hermit,
he loaded him with presents, caused arms, money, and provisions to be
distributed among his army, and advised him to defer the commencement
of the war to the arrival of the princes and illustrious captains who
had assumed the cross.
This advice was salutary, but the most renowned heroes of the crusade
were not yet ready to leave Europe; they were to be preceded by fresh
troops of Crusaders, who, marching without forethought and without
discipline in the steps of the army of Peter, should commit the
same excesses, and be exposed to the same reverses. A priest of the
Palatinate had preached the crusade in several provinces of Germany. At
his voice fifteen or twenty thousand men had taken the oath to fight
the infidels, and had assembled in an armed body. As the preachers
of the holy war passed for men inspired by God, the people believed
they were obeying the will of heaven in taking them for chiefs of the
crusade. Gotschalk obtained the same honour that had been conferred on
Peter the Hermit, and was elected general by the men he had prevailed
upon to take arms. This army arrived in Hungary towards the end
of summer. The harvest, which was abundant, furnished the Germans
with a ready opportunity of giving themselves up to intemperance.
In the enjoyment of tumultuous scenes of debauchery, they forgot
Constantinople, Jerusalem, and Christ himself, whose worship and laws
they were marching to defend. Pillage, violation, and murder were
everywhere left as the traces of their passage. Coloman assembled
troops to chastise their license, and to recall them to a sense of
the maxims of justice and the laws of hospitality. The soldiers of
Gotschalk were full of courage, and, at first, defended themselves
with advantage. Their resistance even inspired serious alarm among
the Hungarians, who resolved to employ stratagem to reduce them. The
general of Coloman feigned to be desirous of peace. The chiefs of
the Hungarians presented themselves in the camp of the Crusaders,
no longer as enemies, but as brothers. By dint of protestations and
caresses, they persuaded them to allow themselves to be disarmed. The
Germans, slaves of the most brutal passions, but simple and credulous,
yielded to the promises of a Christian people, and abandoned themselves
to a blind confidence, of which they very shortly became the victims.
Scarcely had they laid down their arms when the chief of the Hungarians
gave the signal for the carnage. The prayers, the tears of the
Crusaders, the sacred sign which they bore upon their breasts, could
not divert the blows of a perfidious and barbarous enemy. Their fate
was worthy of pity, and history might have shed tears over it if they
had themselves respected the laws of humanity.
We are doubtless the less astonished at the excesses of the first
Crusaders, when we reflect that they belonged to the lowest class of
the people, always blind, and always ready to abuse names and things
the most holy, when not restrained by laws or leaders. The civil wars,
which had so long disturbed Europe, had greatly increased the number
of vagabonds and adventurers. Germany, more troubled than the other
countries of the West, was filled with men trained in brigandage, and
became the scourge of society. They almost all enrolled themselves
under the banners of the cross, and carried with them into a new
expedition the spirit of license and revolt with which they were
animated.
There assembled on the banks of the Rhine and the Moselle a new troop
of Crusaders, more seditious, more undisciplined, even, than those of
Peter and Gotschalk. They had been told that the crusade procured the
forgiveness of all sins; and in this persuasion they committed the
greatest crimes with security. Animated by a fanatical pride, they
believed themselves entitled to despise and ill-treat all who did not
join in the holy expedition. The war they were about to wage appeared
to them so agreeable to God, and they thought by it to render such a
signal service to the Church, that all the wealth of the earth would be
scarcely sufficient to pay them for their devotion. Everything which
fell into their hands appeared a conquest over the infidels, and became
the just reward of their labours.
No captain durst place himself at the head of this ferocious
troop;[55] they wandered on in disorder, and obeyed none but those
who partook their wild delirium. A priest named Volkmar, and a Count
Emicio, who thought to expiate the wildness of his youth by the excess
of his fanaticism, attracted, by their declamations, the attention
and confidence of the new Crusaders. These two chiefs were astonished
that people should go so far to make war upon the Mussulmans, who kept
up under their own law the tomb of Jesus Christ, whilst they left in
peace a nation which had crucified its God. To inflame men’s passions
still more, they took care to make heaven speak, and to support their
opinions by miraculous visions. The people, for whom the Jews were
everywhere an object of hatred and horror, had already shown themselves
but too ready to persecute them. Commerce, which they almost alone
carried on, had placed in their hands a great part of the gold then
circulating in Europe. The sight of their wealth necessarily irritated
the Crusaders, who were, for the most part, reduced to implore charity
of the faithful to procure the means for undertaking their voyage. It
is probable, likewise, that the Jews, by their railleries, insulted the
enthusiasm of the Christians for the crusade.
All these motives, joined to the thirst for pillage, lit up the fires
of persecution. Emicio and Volkmar gave both the signal and the
example. At their voice a furious multitude spread themselves through
the cities of the Rhine and the Moselle, massacring pitilessly all
the Jews that they met with in their passage. In their despair, a
great number of these victims preferred being their own destroyers,
to awaiting certain death at the hands of their enemies. Several shut
themselves up in their houses, and perished amidst flames which they
themselves had kindled; some fastened large stones to their garments,
and precipitated themselves and their treasures into the Rhine or the
Moselle. Mothers stifled their children at the breast, saying that they
preferred sending them thus to the bosom of Abraham, to seeing them
given up to the fury of the Christians. Women and old men implored pity
to assist them to die; all these wretched creatures calling upon death
as earnestly as other men ask for life. In the midst of these scenes of
desolation, history takes pleasure in doing justice to the enlightened
zeal of the bishops of Worms, Trèves, Mayence, and Spiers, who raised
the voice of religion and humanity, and opened their palaces as so many
asylums for the Jews against the pursuit of murderers and villains.
The soldiers of Emicio prided themselves upon their exploits, and
scenes of carnage filled them with exultation. As proud as if they had
conquered the Saracens, they set out on their march, loaded with booty,
invoking the heaven they had so cruelly outraged. They were slaves to
the most brutal superstition, and caused themselves to be preceded by
a goat and a goose, to which they attributed something divine.[56]
These mean animals at the head of the battalions were as their chiefs,
and shared the respect and confidence of the multitude, with all those
who furnished examples of the most horrible excesses. All people fled
at the approach of these dreaded champions of the cross. Christians
who met them on their route were forced to applaud their zeal, whilst
trembling for fear of becoming victims to it. This unrestrained
multitude, without being acquainted with the people or the countries
through which they had to pass, ignorant even of the disasters of
those who had preceded them in this perilous career, advanced like
a hurricane towards the plains of Hungary. Mersbourg shut its gates
upon them, and refused them provisions. They were indignant that so
little respect should be shown to the soldiers of Christ, and deemed
it their duty to treat the Hungarians as they had treated the Jews.
Mersbourg,[57] situated on the Leytha, a river which flows into the
Danube, was defended by marshes. The Crusaders crossed the river, cut
down a forest, and formed a causeway, which conducted them close under
the walls of the place. After some preparation the signal was given,
the ladders were raised against the ramparts, and the general assault
was begun. The besieged opposed a spirited resistance, and showered
upon their enemies a tempest of darts and arrows, with torrents of
boiling oil. The besiegers, encouraging each other, redoubled their
efforts. Victory appeared to be about to declare for them, when
suddenly several ladders yielded to the weight of the assailants, and
dragged down with them in their fall the parapets and the fragments
of the towers that the rams had shaken. The cries of the wounded, and
the rattling of the falling ruins, spread a panic among the Crusaders.
They abandoned the half-destroyed ramparts, behind which their enemies
trembled, and retired in the greatest disorder.
“God himself,” says William of Tyre, “spread terror through their
ranks, to punish their crimes, and to accomplish that word of the wise
man: ‘The impious man flies without being pursued.’” The inhabitants of
Mersbourg, astonished at their victory, at length quitted the shelter
of their ramparts, and found the plain covered with the fliers, who
had cast away their arms. A vast number of these furious beings, whom,
recently, nothing could resist, allowed themselves to be slaughtered
without resistance. Many perished, swallowed up in the marshes. The
waters of the Danube and the Leytha were reddened with their blood, and
covered with their bodies.
The vanguard of this army met with the same fate among the Bulgarians,
whose territories they had gained. In the cities and the plains, those
unworthy Crusaders found everywhere men as ferocious and implacable
as themselves, who appeared—to employ the words of the historians of
the times—to have been placed upon the passage of the pilgrims as
instruments of divine wrath. A very small number escaped the carnage.
Among the few who found safety in flight, some returned into their
own country, where they were welcomed by the scorn and jeers of their
compatriots; the rest arrived at Constantinople, where the Greeks
learnt the new disasters of the Latins, with so much the more joy, from
having suffered greatly from the excesses committed by the army of
Peter the Hermit.
This army, united to that of Walter, had received under its standard an
accession of Pisans, Venetians, and Genoese, and might amount to about
a hundred thousand combatants. The remembrance of their misery caused
them for a time to respect the commands of the emperor and the laws of
hospitality; but abundance, idleness, and the sight of the riches of
Constantinople, brought back to their camp, license, insubordination,
and a thirst for plunder. Impatient to receive the signal for war, they
pillaged the houses, the palaces, and even the churches, of the suburbs
of Byzantium. To deliver his capital from these destructive guests,
Alexis furnished them with vessels, and transported them to the other
side of the Bosphorus.
Nothing could be expected from a band composed of a confused mixture of
all nations, and the wrecks of several undisciplined armies. A great
number of the Crusaders, on quitting their country, had thought of
nothing but accomplishing their vow, and only sighed for the happiness
of beholding Jerusalem; but these pious dispositions had all vanished
on their route. Whatever may be the motive that brings them together,
when men are not confined by any restraint, the most corrupted gain
the ascendancy, and bad examples constitute the law. As soon as the
soldiers of Peter had passed the straits, they considered all they met
their enemies, and the subjects of the Greek emperor suffered much more
than the Turks from their first exploits. In their blindness, they
allied superstition with license, and under the banners of the cross,
committed crimes which make nature shudder.[58] But discord soon broke
out amongst them, and retaliated upon them all the evils they had
inflicted upon Christians.
They had established their camp in the fertile plains which border the
Gulf of Nicomedia. Every day parties strayed into the neighbourhood,
and returned loaded with booty. The partition of the spoil excited
frequent quarrels among them. The French, of an assuming and
bantering character, attributed to themselves all the success of this
commencement of the war, and treated the Italians and Germans with
contempt. The latter separated themselves from the army, and under the
conduct of a chief named Rinaldo,[59] advanced towards the mountains
which border upon Nicea. There they rendered themselves masters of a
fort, whose garrison they massacred, and although their troop was not
numerous, and stood in great want of provisions, they were bold enough
to await the army which was approaching to besiege them. They were not
able to resist even the first attacks of the Turks, and were almost all
put to the sword; their general, and some few of his soldiers, only
saved their lives by embracing the faith of Mahomet, and by taking a
disgraceful oath to fight against the Christians.
When the news of this disaster reached the camp of the Crusaders, it
brought with it agitation and trouble. The French, who, a few days
before, could not endure the Germans and the Italians, wept over their
tragical fate, and were eager to march to avenge them. In vain Walter,
who commanded them, represented to them that the Crusaders whose
loss they deplored had fallen victims to their own imprudence, and
that their principal duty was to avoid their example; nothing could
restrain the impatience and the blind ardour of his soldiers. The
latter believed that they already saw the Turks flying before them, and
feared they should not be able to overtake them. Murmurs arose in the
Christian army against a general whom they accused of want of courage,
because he foresaw reverses. From murmurs they passed to revolt, and
the order for departure and attack was forced from him by violence.
Walter, groaning, followed a headstrong multitude, who marched in
disorder towards Nicea, and whom the Turks would soon punish for the
contempt with which they had treated the advice of their leaders.
The sultan of Nicea, foreseeing their imprudence, had concealed a part
of his army in a forest, and waited for them with the rest of his
troops in a plain at the foot of the mountain. After a march of some
hours, in a country which was unknown to them, the Christians were
unexpectedly attacked by the Turks, whom they believed to be in flight.
They formed in haste, and at first defended themselves valiantly. But
the enemy had the advantages of position and numbers, and they were
soon surrounded on all sides, and completely routed. The carnage was
horrible: Walter, who was worthy of commanding better soldiers, fell
pierced by seven arrows. With the exception of three thousand men, who
took refuge in a castle close to the sea, the whole army perished in a
single battle, and there soon remained no more of them than a confused
heap of bones, piled up in the plains of Nicea, as a deplorable
monument to point out to other Crusaders the road to the Holy Land.
Such was the fate of that multitude of pilgrims who threatened Asia,
and yet never beheld the places they went to conquer. By their excesses
they had prejudiced the whole of Greece against the enterprize of the
crusades, and by their manner of fighting had taught the Turks to
despise the arms of the Christians of the West.
Peter, who had returned to Constantinople before the battle, and who
had long lost all authority among the Crusaders, declaimed against
their indocility and their pride, and beheld in them nothing but
brigands,[60] whom God had deemed unworthy to contemplate or adore the
tomb of his Son. From that time it was quite evident that the apostle
of the holy war possessed no quality to enable him to act as its
chief. Coolness, prudence, inflexible firmness, alone could conduct a
multitude whom so many passions impelled, and who listened to nothing
but enthusiasm. The cenobite Peter, after having prepared the great
events of the crusade by his eloquence, lost in the crowd of pilgrims,
played nothing but an ordinary part, and was in the end scarcely to be
perceived in a war that was his work.
Europe, without doubt, learnt with terror and astonishment the unhappy
end of three hundred thousand Crusaders, whom she had seen depart; but
they who were to follow were not at all discouraged, and resolved to
profit by the lessons which the disasters of their companions had given
them. The West soon saw on foot armies more regular and more formidable
than those which had been destroyed on the banks of the Danube, and in
the plains of Bithynia.
When describing their march and their exploits, we are about to trace
much nobler pictures. Here the heroic spirit of chivalry will display
itself in all its splendour, and the brilliant period of the holy war
will commence.
The leaders of the Christian armies which now quitted the West were
already celebrated by their valour and their deeds. At the head of
the great captains who commanded in this crusade, history, as well
as poetry, must place Godfrey de Bouillon,[61] duke of the Lower
Lorraine. He was of the illustrious race of the counts of Boulogne,
and descended on the female side from Charlemagne. From his earliest
youth he had distinguished himself in the open war carried on between
the Holy See and the emperor of Germany. On the field of battle he
had killed Rodolphe de Rhenfield, duke of Suabia, to whom Gregory
had sent the imperial crown. When the war broke out in Italy for the
cause of the anti-pope Anaclet, Godfrey was the first to enter the
city of Rome, besieged and taken by the troops of Henry. He afterwards
repented of having embraced a party which victory itself could not
make triumphant, and which the greater part of Christendom considered
sacrilegious. To expiate exploits condemned as useless by the spirit of
his age, he made a vow to go to Jerusalem, not as a simple pilgrim, but
as a liberator.
Contemporary history, which has transmitted his portrait to us, informs
us that he joined the bravery and virtues of a hero to the simplicity
of a cenobite.[62] His prowess in fight and his extraordinary strength
of body made him the pride of camps. Prudence and moderation tempered
his valour; his devotion was sincere and disinterested; and in no
instance during the holy war did he employ his courage or inflict
his vengeance but upon the enemies of Christ. Faithful to his word,
liberal, affable, full of humanity, the princes and knights looked
upon him as their model, the soldiers as their father—all were eager
to fight under his standard. If he was not the leader of the crusade,
as some writers pretend, he at least obtained that empire which virtue
bestows. Amidst their quarrels and divisions, the princes and barons
constantly appealed to the wisdom of Godfrey, and in the dangers of
war, his counsels became absolute orders.
At the signal of the duke of Lorraine, the nobility of France and the
borders of the Rhine were prodigal of their treasures in preparing for
the crusades. All things serviceable in war mounted to so exorbitant a
price, that the produce of an estate was scarcely sufficient to defray
the equipment of a single knight. The women despoiled themselves of
their most precious ornaments to furnish forth their sons and their
husbands for the expedition. Men even, say the historians, who in other
times would have suffered a thousand deaths rather than give up their
hereditary domains, either sold them for a low price or exchanged them
for arms. Gold and steel appeared to be the only desirable objects in
existence.
Now appeared the stores of riches which had been concealed by fear or
avarice. Ingots of gold, coined pieces, says the Abbé Guibert, were to
be seen in heaps in the tents of the principal Crusaders, like the most
common fruits in the cottages of villagers.
Many barons, having neither lands nor castles to sell, implored the
charity of the faithful who did not take up the cross, and might
hope to participate in the merits of the holy war by assisting in
the equipment of the Crusaders. Some ruined their vassals; others,
like William, viscount de Melun,[63] pillaged the burghs and villages
to place themselves in a condition to combat the infidels. Godfrey
de Bouillon, guided by a more enlightened piety, was content with
alienating his domains. We read in Robert Gaguin that he permitted the
inhabitants of Metz to redeem their city, of which he was suzerain.
He sold the principality of Stenai to the bishop of Verdun, and ceded
his rights over the duchy of Bouillon to the bishop of Liège for the
small sum of four thousand silver marks and a pound of gold, which
makes an historian of the Crusaders say[64] that the secular princes
ruined themselves for the cause of Jesus Christ, whilst the princes of
the Church took advantage of the fervour of the Christians to enrich
themselves.
The duke de Bouillon had gathered under his standard eighty thousand
foot-soldiers and ten thousand horsemen. He began his march eight
months after the council of Clermont, accompanied by a great number
of German and French nobles. He took with him his brother Eustace de
Boulogne, his other brother Baldwin, and his cousin Baldwin de Bourg.
These two last, who were destined one day, like Godfrey de Bouillon,
to become kings of Jerusalem, held then the rank of simple knights in
the Christian army. They were all less animated by sincere piety than
by the hope of achieving a great fortune in Asia, and quitted without
regret the mean possessions that they held in Europe. Still further
were to be remarked in the train of the duke de Lorraine, Baldwin,
count de Hamaut; Garnier, count de Grai; Conon de Montaigu, Dudon de
Contz, so celebrated in the “Jerusalem Delivered;” the two brothers
Henri and Godfrey de Hache, Gérard de Cherisi, Rinaldo and Peter de
Toul, Hugh de St. Paul, and his son Engelran. These chiefs brought with
them a crowd of other knights, less known, but not less formidable by
their valour.
The army commanded by the duke of Lorraine, composed of soldiers
formed by discipline and tried in battle, offered to the Germans a
very different spectacle from the troop of Peter the Hermit, and
re-established the honour of the Crusaders in all the countries they
passed through. They met with assistance and allies where the first
champions of the cross had found nothing but obstacles and enemies.
Godfrey deplored the fate of those who had preceded him, without
seeking to avenge their cause. The Hungarians and the Bulgarians, on
their part, forgot the violences committed by the soldiers of Peter,
Gotschalk, and Emicio; they admired the moderation of Godfrey, and
offered up vows for the success of his arms.
Whilst the duke de Lorraine was advancing towards Constantinople,
France was raising other armies for the holy war. A few months after
the council of Clermont, the nobles of the kingdom assembled to
deliberate upon the affairs of the crusade. In this assembly, held in
the presence of Philip I., who had just been excommunicated, no one
was opposed to the war preached under the auspices of the Holy See;
no one even thought of invoking policy either to moderate or direct
the passions which agitated Europe. The cabinets of princes were as
much infatuated as the multitude, and it may be said that the fortune
of France took charge alone of these great events, which, though
unfortunate at first, afterwards concurred to raise the monarchy which
had fallen into ruins under the feeble successors of Charlemagne.
Towards the middle of the tenth century, the chief of the third dynasty
had consecrated the usurpation of the nobles, and to obtain the title
of king, had almost abandoned the little that remained of the rights of
the crown. Philip I., grandson of Hugh Capet, found that his dominions
extended but little beyond Paris and Orleans; the rest of France was
governed by the great vassals, of whom several surpassed monarch in
power. Royalty, the only hope of the people against the oppressions of
the nobles and the clergy, was so feeble, that we are at the present
time astonished that it did not fall, so numerous were the difficulties
and the enemies that surrounded it on all sides. As the monarch was
exposed to the censures of the Church, it was an easy matter to lead
his subjects to disobedience, and to legitimatize any sort of revolt,
by giving it the colour of a sacred pretext.
The crusade removed far from Europe all who could have taken advantage
of the unhappy situation in which the kingdom was placed; it saved the
country from a civil war, and prevented such sanguinary discords as had
broken out in Germany under the reign of Henry and the pontificate of
Gregory.
Such were the considerations which might present themselves to the most
enlightened men, and which must strike us more strongly than they would
the contemporaries of Philip.[65] It would be difficult to believe
that any one of the counsellors of the king of France perceived, in
all their extent, these salutary results of the crusade, which were
recognized long after, and which have only been properly appreciated
in the age in which we live. On the other hand, they had no conception
that a war in which all the most dangerous passions should be brought
into action would be accompanied by great misfortunes and calamitous
disorders. Ambition, license, the spirit of enthusiasm, all so much to
be dreaded by the country, might also bring about the ruin of armies.
Not one of the enemies of Philip, not one of those who remained at
home, made this reflection. Everybody, as we have already said, they
who were of the party of the Holy See and they who adhered to royalty,
allowed themselves to be carried along by the current of events,
without either perceiving the causes of them or foreseeing their
consequences. The most wise blindly followed that invisible destiny
which orders the world as it pleases, and makes use of the passions of
men as of an instrument to accomplish its designs.
In a superstitious age the sight of a prodigy or of an extraordinary
phenomenon had more influence over the minds of men than the oracles
of wisdom or reason.[66] Historians inform us, that whilst the barons
were assembled, the moon, which was in eclipse, appeared of the colour
of blood. When the eclipse was over, its disc was surrounded by an
unprecedented splendour. Some weeks after, says the Abbé Guibert,
the northern horizon was seen to be all on fire, and the terrified
people rushed from the houses and cities, believing that the enemy
was advancing, fire and sword in hand. These phenomena, with several
others, were regarded as signs of the will of God, and presages
of the terrible war about to be made in his name. They everywhere
redoubled the enthusiasm for the crusade. Men who had hitherto remained
indifferent now partook of the general delirium. All Frenchmen called
to the profession of arms, and who had not yet taken the oath to fight
against the infidels, hastened now to take the cross.
The men of the Vermandois marched with the subjects of Philip under the
colours of their count Hugh, a young prince whose brilliant qualities
had been much admired by the court. Proud of being a brother of the
king of France and the first of the French knights, he distinguished
himself by his bravery and the ostentation of his manners. He displayed
invincible courage in the field of battle, but allowed himself to be
too easily overcome by flattery, and was wanting in perseverance in
reverses. Although fortune was not too kind to him, not one of the
heroes of the crusade exhibited more honourable and disinterested
intentions. If he had not merited by his exploits the surname of
_Great_ which history has given him, he would have obtained it for
having only listened to his zeal, and for having sought nothing but
glory in a war which offered kingdoms to the ambition of princes and
simple knights.
Robert, surnamed _Courte-heuse_, duke of Normandy, who led his vassals
to the holy war, was the eldest son of William the Conqueror. He
joined to noble qualities some of the faults the most reprehensible
in a prince. He could not, even in his early youth, endure paternal
authority; but, drawn away more by a desire for independence than by a
real ambition, after having made war against his father for the sake
of reigning in Normandy, he neglected the opportunity of ascending the
throne of England on the death of William. His levity, his inconstancy,
and his weakness, caused him to be despised both by his subjects and
his enemies. His profusion ruined his people, and reduced him, if
we may credit the monk Oderic Vital, to a condition bordering upon
absolute poverty. The historian I have just quoted relates a trait,
which, although difficult to be believed, at the same time describes
both Robert and the age he lived in. “He was often compelled to remain
in bed for want of clothes, and frequently was absent from mass
because his nudity prevented him from assisting at it.” It was not an
ambition for conquering kingdoms in Asia, but his inconstant, chivalric
disposition, that made him assume the cross, and take up arms. The
Normans, a wandering and warlike people, who had made themselves
remarkable among all the nations of Europe for their devotion to
pilgrimages, hastened in crowds to his banner. As Duke Robert had
not the means of providing for the expenses of an army, he pledged
Normandy with his brother William Rufus. William, whom his age accused
of impiety, and who laughed at the knight errantry of the Crusaders,
seized with joy the opportunity of governing a province which he hoped
one day to unite to his kingdom. He levied taxes upon the clergy,
whom he did not like, and caused the silver plate of the churches to
be melted to pay the sum of ten thousand silver marks to Robert, who
set out for the Holy Land, followed by almost all the nobility of his
duchy.
Another Robert, count of Flanders, placed himself at the head of the
Frisons and the Flemings. He was son of Robert, surnamed _the Frison_,
who had usurped the principality of Flanders from his own nephews, and
who, to expiate his victories, had performed, some time before the
crusade, the pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The young Robert easily found
soldiers for his enterprize in a country where everybody had borne arms
during the civil wars, and where the people were animated by the tales
of a great number of pilgrims returned from the Holy Land. He exhausted
the treasures of his father, to embark in an expedition which procured
him the reputation of a bold knight, together with the surname of “_The
Lance and Sword_” _of the Christians_. Five hundred horsemen sent by
Robert the Frison to the emperor Alexis had already preceded him to
Constantinople.
Stephen, count of Blois and Chartres, had also taken up the cross. He
passed for the richest noble of his times. The number of his castles
was said to be equal to that of the days of the year. What might be
really considered a phenomenon in the eleventh century, this prince
loved and cultivated letters. He proved to be the soul of the councils
by his eloquence and his intelligence; but he could not long together
support the fatigues of war, and he sometimes was but timid in the
field of battle.
These four chiefs were accompanied by a crowd of knights and nobles,
among whom history names Robert of Paris, Evrard of Prusaiè, Achard de
Montmerle, Isouard de Muson, Stephen, count d’Albermarle, Walter de
St. Valery, Roger de Barneville, Fergant and Conan, two illustrious
Bretons, Guis de Trusselle, Miles de Braiës, Raoul de Baugency, Rotrou,
son of the count de Perche; Odo, bishop of Bayeux, uncle of the duke of
Normandy; Raoul de Gader, Yve and Albéric, sons of Hugh de Grandménil.
The greater part of the counts and barons took with them their wives
and children, and all their war equipages. They crossed the Alps, and
directed their march towards the cities of Italy, with the intention
of embarking for Greece. They found in the neighbourhood of Lucca
Pope Urban, who gave them his benediction, praised their zeal, and
offered up prayers for the success of their enterprize. The count de
Vermandois, after having received the standard of the Church from
the hands of the sovereign pontiff, repaired to Rome, with the other
princes, to visit the tombs of St. Peter and St. Paul. The capital of
the Christian world was then the theatre of a civil war. The soldiers
of Urban, and those of the anti-pope Guibert, disputed, arms in hand,
for the church of St. Peter, and by turns carried off the offerings of
the faithful. Whatever some modern historians may say, the Crusaders
took no part in the troubles which divided the city of Rome; and what
is still more astonishing, Urban did not call to the defence of his
own cause one of the warriors whom his appeal had induced to take up
arms. For the rest, the spectacle which presented itself in the city
of St. Peter must have been a subject of scandal to the greater part
of the French knights. Some, satisfied with having saluted the tomb of
the apostles, and perhaps cured of their holy enthusiasm by the sight
of the violences which profaned the sanctuary, abandoned the standard
of the cross, and returned into their own country. Others pursued
their march towards Apulia; but when they arrived at Bari, the winter
beginning to render the navigation dangerous, they were forced to wait
during several months for a favourable moment to embark.
The passage of the French Crusaders, however, had awakened the zeal of
the Italians. Bohémond, prince of Tarentum, was the first who resolved
to associate himself with their fortunes, and to partake of the glory
of the holy expedition. He was of the family of those knights who
had founded the kingdom of Naples and Sicily. Fifty years before the
crusade, his father, Robert Guiscard ’the subtle) had quitted the
castle of Hauteville, in Normandy, with thirty foot-soldiers and five
horsemen. Seconded by some of his relations and compatriots, who had
preceded him into Italy, he fought with advantage against the Greeks,
the Lombards, and the Saracens, who disputed Apulia and Calabria with
him. He soon became sufficiently powerful to be by turns the enemy and
the protector of the popes. He beat the armies of the emperors of the
East and the West, and when he died he was engaged in the conquest of
Greece.
Bohémond had neither less cunning nor less talents than his father,
Robert Guiscard. Contemporary authors, who never fail to describe the
physical qualities of their heroes, inform us that his height was so
great that it exceeded by a cubit that of the tallest man in his army;
his eyes were blue, and appeared full of passion and haughty pride.
His presence, says Anna Comnena, was as astonishing to the eyes as
his reputation was to the mind. When he spoke, his hearers believed
that eloquence had been his only study; when he appeared under arms,
he might be supposed to have done nothing but wield the lance and the
sword. Brought up in the school of the Norman heroes, he concealed the
combinations of policy beneath an exterior of violence; and although
of a proud and haughty character, he could put up with an injury when
vengeance would not have been profitable to him. Everything that could
contribute to the success of his designs appeared to him to be just.
He had learnt from his father to consider every man whose wealth or
states he coveted as his enemy; he was neither restrained by the fear
of God, the opinion of men, nor his own oaths. He had followed Robert
in the war against the emperor Alexis, and had distinguished himself
in the battles of Durazzo and Larissa; but, disinherited by a will,
he had nothing at his father’s death but the memory of his exploits,
and the example of his family. He had declared war against his brother
Roger, and had recently compelled him to cede to him the principality
of Tarentum, when the expedition to the East began to be talked of in
Europe. The deliverance of the tomb of Christ was not the object that
kindled his zeal, or induced him to assume the cross. As he had sworn
an eternal hatred to the Greek emperors, he smiled at the idea of
traversing their empire at the head of an army; and, full of confidence
in his own fortunes, he hoped to win a kingdom before he should arrive
at Jerusalem.
The little principality of Tarentum could not supply him with an army;
but in the name of religion, a leader had then the power of raising
troops in all the states. Enthusiasm for the crusade soon seconded his
projects, and brought a great number of warriors to his standard.
He had accompanied his brother and his uncle Roger to the siege of
Amalfi, a flourishing city which refused with contempt the protection
of the new masters of Apulia and Sicily. Bohémond, who knew well how to
speak in proper season the language of enthusiasm, and to conceal his
ambition beneath the colours of religious fanaticism, preached himself
the crusade in the army of the besiegers. He went among the soldiers,
talking of the princes and the great captains who had taken the cross.
He spoke to the most pious warriors of the religion which was to be
defended, and exalted before others the glory and fortunes which would
crown their exploits. The army was won over by his discourses, and the
camp soon resounded with the cry of “_It is the will of God! It is the
will of God!_” Bohémond congratulated himself in secret on the success
of his eloquence, and tore his coat of arms into strips, of which he
made crosses, and ordered his officers to distribute them among the
soldiers. There now only wanted a chief to command the holy expedition,
and the new Crusaders came to solicit the prince of Tarentum to place
himself at their head. Bohémond appeared at first to hesitate; he
refused that which he ardently desired; and the soldiers assembled
around him redoubled their solicitations. At length he seemed to yield
to their importunities, and obey their will. Instantly the eagerness
and enthusiasm became more animated and more general. In an incredibly
short space of time the whole army swore to follow him into Palestine.
Roger was obliged to raise the siege of Amalfi, and the happy Bohémond
gave himself up entirely to the preparations for his voyage.
A short time after he embarked for the coasts of Greece with ten
thousand horsemen and twenty thousand foot. Every illustrious knight
of Apulia and Sicily followed the prince of Tarentum. With him marched
Richard, prince of Salerno, and Randulf, his brother; Herman de Cani,
Robert de Hanse, Robert de Sourdeval, Robert the son of Tristan,
Boile de Chartres, and Humphrey de Montaigu. All these warriors were
celebrated for their exploits, but no one amongst them was more worthy
to attract the attention of posterity than the brave Tancred.[67]
Although he belonged to a family in which ambition was hereditary,
he was fired by no other passion than a desire to fight against the
infidels. Piety, glory, and perhaps his friendship for Bohémond alone,
led him into Asia. His contemporaries admired his romantic pride and
his haughty austerity. He yielded to no superiority but that of virtue,
with the exception of occasional submission to the power of beauty. A
stranger to all the motives and interests of policy, he acknowledged
no other law but religion and honour, and was always ready to die in
their cause. The annals of chivalry present no model more accomplished;
poetry and history have united to celebrate him, and both have heaped
upon him the same praises.
The Crusaders from the southern provinces of France had marched under
the command of Adhémar de Monteil and Raymond, count de St. Gilles and
Thoulouse. Bishop Adhémar acted as the spiritual chief of the crusade;
his title of apostolic legate, and his personal qualities, earned for
him in the holy war the confidence and respect of the pilgrims. His
exhortations and his counsels contributed greatly to the maintaining
of order and discipline. He consoled the Crusaders in their reverses,
he animated them amidst dangers; clothed at the same time with the
insignia of a pontiff and the armour of a knight, he exhibited in the
tent a model of the Christian virtues, and in the field often gave
proofs of undaunted valour.
Raymond, who marched with Adhémar, had had the glory of fighting in
Spain by the side of the Cid; and of conquering several times the Moors
under Alphonso the Great, who had bestowed his daughter Elvira upon him
in marriage. His vast possessions on the banks of the Rhone and the
Dordogne, and still more his exploits against the Saracens, rendered
him one of the most remarkable among the great leaders of the crusade.
Age had not extinguished in the count of Thoulouse either the ardour or
the passions of youth. Hasty and impetuous, of a character haughty and
inflexible, he had less ambition to conquer kingdoms than to make every
will bend beneath his own. Both Greeks and Saracens have acknowledged
his bravery. His subjects and his companions in arms hated him for his
obstinacy and violence. Unhappy prince, he bade eternal farewell to
his country, which was one day to be the theatre of a terrible crusade
preached against his own family!
All the nobility of Gascony, Languedoc, Provence, the Limousin, and
Auvergne, accompanied Raymond and Adhémar. Contemporary historians name
among the knights and lords who had taken the cross, Héracle, count
de Polignac, Pons de Balazan, Guillaume de Sabran, Eléazar de Castrie,
Eléazar de Montrédon, Pierre Bernard de Montagnac, Raymond de Lille,
Pierre Raymond de Hautpool, Gouffier de Lastours, Guillaume V., lord
of Montpellier, Roger, count de Foix, Raymond Pelet, Seigneur d’Alais,
Isard, count de Diè, Raimbaud, count d’Orange, Guillaume, count de
Ferez, Guillaume, count de Clermont, Gerard, son of Guillabert, count
de Roussillon, Gaston, viscount de Béarn, Guillaume Amanjeu d’Albret,
Raymond, viscount de Turenne, Raymond, viscount de Castillon, Guillaume
d’Urgal, and the count de Fortcalquier. After the example of Adhémar,
the bishops of Apt, Lodève, and Orange, and the archbishop of Toledo,
had taken up the cross, and led a part of their vassals to the holy war.
Raymond, count of Thoulouse, followed by his wife Elvira and his sons,
placed himself at the head of a hundred thousand Crusaders, advanced
to Lyons, where he crossed the Rhone, traversed the Alps, Lombardy,
and Frioul, and directed his march towards the territory of the Greek
empire, over the savage mountains and through the equally savage
nations of Dalmatia.[68]
Alexis, who had implored the assistance of the Latins, was terrified
when he learnt the numbers of his liberators. The leaders of the
crusade were only princes of the second order, but they drew with
them all the forces of the West. Anna Comnena compares the multitude
of the Crusaders to the sands of the sea or the stars of the heavens,
and their innumerable bands to torrents which unite to form a great
river.[69] Alexis had learnt to dread Bohémond on the plains of Durazzo
and Larissa. Although he was less acquainted with the courage and
ability of the other Latin princes, he repented of having imparted to
them the secret of his weakness by asking their aid. His alarms, which
were increased by the predictions of astrologers and the opinions
spread among his people, became more serious as the Crusaders advanced
towards his capital.[70]
Seated on a throne from which he had hurled his master and benefactor,
he could have no faith in virtue, and was better aware than another
what ambition might dictate. He had displayed some courage in gaining
the purple, but only governed by dissimulation,—the ordinary policy
of the Greeks and all weak states. If Anna Comnena has made an
accomplished prince of him, the Latins have represented him as a
perfidious and cruel monarch. Impartial history, which alike rejects
the exaggerations of eulogy or satire, can see nothing in Alexis but
a weak ruler, of a superstitious character, led away much more by a
love of vain splendour and display than by any passion for glory. He
had it in his power to put himself at the head of the Crusaders, and
reconquer Asia Minor, by marching with the Latins to Jerusalem. This
great enterprize alarmed his weakness. His timid prudence made him
believe that it would be sufficient to deceive the Crusaders to have
nothing to fear from them, and to receive a vain homage from them
in order to profit by their victories. Everything appeared good and
just to him which would assist in extricating him from a position of
which his policy increased the dangers, and which the unsteadiness of
his projects made every day more embarrassing. The more earnestly he
endeavoured to inspire confidence, the more suspicious he rendered his
good faith. By seeking to inspire fear, he discovered all the alarms
which he himself experienced. As soon as he had notice of the march
of the princes of the crusade, he sent them ambassadors to compliment
them, and to penetrate their intentions. In the meanwhile, he placed
troops everywhere to harass them on their passage.
The count de Vermandois, cast by a tempest on the shores of Epirus,
received the greatest honours from the governor of Durazzo, and was
led a prisoner to Constantinople by the orders of Alexis. The Greek
emperor hoped that the brother of the king of France would become,
in his hands, a hostage that might protect him from the enterprizes
of the Latins; but he only awakened suspicion, and provoked the
hatred of the leaders of the crusade. Godfrey de Bouillon had arrived
at Philippopoli, when he heard of the captivity of the count de
Vermandois. He sent to the emperor to demand instant reparation for
this outrage; and as the deputies reported but an unfavourable answer,
he restrained neither his own indignation nor the fury of his army. The
lands through which they passed were treated as an enemy’s country,
and during eight days the fertile plains of Thrace became the theatre
of war. The crowd of Greeks who fled towards the capital soon informed
the emperor of the terrible vengeance of the Latins. Alexis, terrified
at the fruits of his own policy, implored the pardon of his prisoner,
and promised to restore him his liberty when the French should have
arrived at the gates of Constantinople. This promise appeased Godfrey,
who caused the war to cease, and resumed his march, treating the Greeks
everywhere as friends and allies.
In the meanwhile, Alexis employed every effort to obtain from the
count de Vermandois the oath of obedience and fidelity, hoping that
his submission would lead to that of the other princes of the crusade,
and that he should have less to fear from their ambition if he could
reckon them in the number of his vassals. The brother of the king
of France, who, on arriving in the territories of the empire, had
written letters filled with pride and ostentation, could not resist
the caresses and presents of the emperor, and took all the oaths that
were required of him. On the arrival of Godfrey, he appeared in the
camp of the Crusaders, who rejoiced at his deliverance, but could not
pardon him for having yielded submission to a foreign monarch. Cries of
indignation arose around him when he endeavoured to persuade Godfrey to
follow his example. The more gentle and submissive he had shown himself
in his captivity, the more strong became the opposition and resistance
to the will of the emperor of his companions, who had drawn their
swords to avenge the insult offered to him.
Alexis refused them provisions, and thought to reduce them by famine;
but the Latins were accustomed to obtain all they wanted by violence
and victory. At the signal of their leader, they dispersed themselves
over the surrounding country, pillaged the villages and the palaces
near the capital, and, by force, brought abundance to their camp.
This disorder lasted several days; but the festival of Christmas was
approaching, and the epoch of the birth of Christ revived generous
sentiments in the breasts of the Christian soldiers and the pious
Godfrey. Advantage was taken of these feelings to bring about peace.
The emperor granted provisions, and the Crusaders sheathed their swords.
But it was impossible for harmony to subsist long between the Greeks
and the Latins. The Latins haughtily boasted of having come to the
rescue of the empire. On all occasions they spoke and acted as masters.
The Greeks despised the barbarous courage of the Latins, and placing
all their glory in the refinement of their manners, believed that
they disgraced the language of Greece when pronouncing the names
of the warriors of the West. The rupture which had for a long time
subsisted between the churches of Rome and Constantinople, increased
the antipathy which the difference of manners and customs had given
birth to. On both sides anathemas were launched, and the theologians
of Greece and Italy detested each other more than they detested the
Saracens. The Greeks, who employed themselves in nothing but vain
subtleties, had never been willing to place in the list of martyrs
those who had died fighting against the infidels. They abhorred the
martial character of the Latin clergy, boasted that they possessed in
their capital all the relics of the East, and could not understand
what they could be going to seek at Jerusalem. On their side, the
Franks could not pardon the subjects of Alexis for not partaking in
their enthusiasm for the crusade, and reproached them with a culpable
indifference for the cause of God. All these motives of discord and
hatred provoked frequent scenes of violence, in which the Greeks
displayed more perfidy than courage, and the Latins more valour than
moderation.
Throughout all these divisions Alexis constantly sought to obtain from
Godfrey the oath of obedience and fidelity; sometimes he employed
protestations of friendship, sometimes he threatened to exercise powers
that he did not possess. Godfrey braved his menaces, and placed no
faith in his promises. The imperial and the Latin troops were twice
called to arms, and Constantinople, badly defended by its soldiers, had
cause to fear beholding the standard of the Crusaders floating over its
walls.
The report of these serious quarrels conveyed joy to the heart of
Bohémond, who had just landed at Durazzo. He believed the time was
come to attack the Greek empire, and to divide the spoils. He sent
envoys to Godfrey, to invite him to take possession of Byzantium,
promising to join him with all his forces, for the prosecution of this
great enterprize. But Godfrey did not forget that he had taken up arms
for the defence of the holy sepulchre, and rejected the proposal of
Bohémond, reminding him of the oath he had taken to fight against the
infidels.
This embassy to Bohémond, the object of which could not be concealed,
redoubled the alarm of Alexis, and made him employ every means to
subdue the firmness of Godfrey de Bouillon. He sent his own son as
a hostage to the army of the Crusaders. From that time all mistrust
was dissipated. The princes of the West swore to respect the laws
of hospitality, and repaired to the palace of Alexis. They found
the emperor surrounded by a splendid court, and entirely occupied
in endeavouring to conceal his weakness under an exterior of vain
magnificence. The chief of the Crusaders, and the princes and knights
who accompanied him, in an apparel on which shone the martial luxury
of the West, bowed before the throne of the emperor, and bent the knee
to a mute and motionless majesty. After this ceremony, during which
the Greeks and the Latins must have afforded each other a strange
spectacle, Alexis adopted Godfrey for his son, and placed the empire
under the protection of his arms. The Crusaders engaged to replace
the cities they had taken belonging to the empire in the hands of the
emperor, and to pay him homage for the other conquests they might
make. Alexis, on his part, promised to aid them by land and by sea, to
furnish them with provisions, and to share the perils and the glory of
their expedition.