of Antioch at the head of their battalions. All the trumpets were
sounded, and from the four hills the city resounded with the terrible
cry of “_It is the will of God! It is the will of God!_” At the first
report of the tumult, the Christians dwelling in Antioch all believed
that their last hour was come, and that the Mussulmans were about to
sacrifice them. The latter, half asleep, poured out of their houses to
ascertain the cause of the noise they heard, and died without knowing
who were the traitors, or by whose hands they were slain. Some, when
aware of the danger, fled towards the mountain upon which the citadel
was built, whilst others rushed out at the gates of the city. All who
could not fly fell beneath the swords of the conquerors.
In the midst of this bloody victory, Bohemond did not neglect taking
formal possession of Antioch, and at dawn his red standard was seen
floating over one of the highest towers of the city. At the sight of
this the Crusaders who were left in charge of the camp broke into loud
acclamations of joy, and hastened to take a part in this fresh conquest
of the Christians. The slaughter of the Mussulmans was continued with
unabated fury. The greater part of the Christians of Antioch, who,
during the siege, had suffered much from the tyranny of the infidels,
joined their liberators, several exhibiting the fetters by which they
had been loaded by the Turks, and thus further provoking the vindictive
spirit of the victorious army. The public places were covered with
dead bodies, and blood flowed in torrents in the streets. The soldiers
penetrated into the houses; religious emblems pointed out such as were
Christians, sacred hymns indicated their brethren; but everything that
was not marked with a cross became the object of vengeance, and all who
pronounced not the name of Christ were massacred without mercy.
In a single night more than six thousand of the inhabitants of Antioch
perished. Many of those who had fled into the neighbouring fields
were pursued and brought back into the city, where they found either
slavery or death. In the first moments of the confusion, Accien,
seeing that he was betrayed, and no longer daring to trust any of his
officers, resolved to fly towards Mesopotamia, and go to meet the army
of Kerboghâ. Escaping through one of the gates, he proceeded without
an escort over mountains and through forests, till he fell in with
some Armenian woodcutters. These men at once recognised the prince of
Antioch, and as he bore upon his countenance marks of depression and
grief, they judged that the city must be taken. One of them, drawing
near to him, snatched his sword from him, and plunged it into his body.
His head was carried to the new masters of Antioch, and Phirous had an
opportunity of contemplating without fear the features of him who, the
day before, might have sentenced him to death. After having received
great riches as the reward of his treachery, this renegade embraced the
Christianity he had abandoned, and followed the Crusaders to Jerusalem.
Two years afterwards, his ambition not being satisfied, he returned
to the religion of Mahomet, and died abhorred by both Mussulmans and
Christians, whose cause he had by turns embraced and betrayed.
When the Christians were tired of slaughter, they prepared to attack
the citadel; but as it was built upon a mountain, inaccessible on most
sides, all their efforts were useless. They contented themselves with
surrounding it with soldiers and machines of war, in order to confine
the garrison, and then spread themselves throughout the city, giving
way to all the intoxication which their victory inspired. The pillage
of Antioch had yielded them immense riches; and although they had found
but a small stock of provisions, they abandoned themselves to the most
extravagant excesses of intemperance and debauchery.
These events passed in the early days of June, 1098; the siege of
Antioch had been begun in the month of October of the preceding year.
After this victory, three days passed quickly away in the midst of
rejoicings, but the fourth was a day of fear and mourning.
A formidable army of Saracens was drawing near to Antioch. From the
earliest period of the siege, Accien, and the sultan of Nice, whom
the Christians had despoiled of his dominions, had applied to all the
Mussulman powers to procure assistance against the warriors of the
West. The supreme head of the Seljoucides, the sultan of Persia, had
promised to aid them; and at his voice all Corassan, says Matthew
of Edessa, Media, Babylon, a part of Asia Minor, and all the East,
from Damascus and the sea-coast to Jerusalem and Arabia, had arisen
at once to attack the Christians.[118] Kerboghâ, sultan of Mossoul,
commanded this army of the Mussulmans. This warrior had fought for a
length of time, at one period for the sultan of Persia ’Barkiarok),
at others for the various princes of the family of Malek-Scha, who
contended for the empire. Often defeated, and twice a prisoner, he had
grown old amidst the tumults of civil war. As full of contempt for the
Christians as of confidence in himself, a true model of the fierce
Circassian celebrated by Tasso, he considered himself the liberator of
Asia, and traversed Mesopotamia with all the pomp and splendour of a
conqueror. The sultans of Nice, Aleppo, and Damascus, with the governor
of Jerusalem and twenty-eight emirs from Persia, Palestine, and Syria,
marched under his command. The Mussulman soldiers were animated by a
thirst for vengeance, and swore by their prophet to exterminate all the
Christians. On the third day after the taking of Antioch, the army of
Kerboghâ pitched its tents on the banks of the Orontes.
The Christians were made aware of its arrival by a detachment of three
hundred horsemen, who came to reconnoitre the place, and advanced
even under the walls. Inquietude and alarm succeeded immediately to
festivity and rejoicing. They found that they had not stores to sustain
a siege; and several of their leaders were sent with their troops
towards the port of St. Simeon, and into the neighbouring country,
to collect all the provisions they could find; but the territory
of Antioch had been so completely ravaged during many months, that
they could not procure anything like enough for the maintenance of
a numerous army. The return of all who had been sent in quest of
provisions completed the terror of the Christians. At the very moment
of their arrival the infidels attacked the advanced posts of the
Crusaders; and, even in these early contests, the Christian army had
to lament the loss of several of its bravest warriors. Bohemond was
wounded in a sortie; in vain Tancred and Godfrey performed prodigies
of valour; the Mussulmans forced the Christians to shut themselves up
in a place of which the latter had but just made themselves masters,
and in which they were soon closely besieged in their turn.
Placed between the garrison of the citadel and a besieging army, the
Crusaders found themselves in a most critical position. To prevent
their being relieved by any supplies by sea, two thousand Mussulmans
were sent by Kerboghâ to take possession of the port of St. Simeon, and
of all vessels which brought provisions to the Christian army. Famine
was not long in making its appearance, and soon exercised cruel ravages
among the besieged.
From the earliest period of the siege the Crusaders could scarcely
procure the common necessaries of life at their weight in gold.
A loaf of moderate size sold at a bezant, an egg was worth six
Lucquese deniers, whilst a pound of silver was given for the head
of an ox, a horse, or an ass. Godfrey bought for fifteen silver
marks a half-starved camel, and gave three marks for a goat, which
at other times would have been rejected by the poorest soldiers of
his army. Surrounded by the vast riches conquered from the Saracens,
the Crusaders were thus condemned to all the horrors and miseries of
famine. After having killed most of their horses, they were compelled
to make war upon unclean animals. The soldiers and the poor who
followed the army supported themselves on roots and leaves; some went
so far as to devour the leather of their bucklers and shoes, whilst
the most wretched exhumed the bodies of the Saracens, and, to support
their miserable existence, disputed with death for his prey. In this
frightful distress, disconsolate mothers could no longer nourish their
babes, and died with famine and despair. Princes and knights, whose
pride and haughtiness had been the most conspicuous, were brought to
the necessity of asking alms. The count of Flanders went begging to the
houses and in the streets of Antioch for the commonest and coarsest
orts, and often obtained none. More than one leader sold his arms and
all his appointments for food to support him a single day. As long
as the duke of Lorraine had any provisions he shared them with his
companions; but at length he made the sacrifice of his last war-horse,
and found himself, as were all the other Crusaders, reduced to the most
cruel necessities.
Many of the Crusaders endeavoured to fly from a city which presented
to them nothing but the image and the prospect of death; some fled by
sea, through a thousand dangers, whilst others cast themselves amongst
the Mussulmans, where they purchased a little bread by the abandonment
of Christ and his religion. The soldiers necessarily lost courage when
they saw that count de Melun, who so often defied death in the field,
a second time fly from famine and misery. His desertion was preceded
by that of the count de Blois, who bore the standard of the Crusaders,
and presided at their councils. He had quitted the army two days before
the taking of Antioch, and when he learned the arrival of Kerboghâ, he,
with his troops, immediately marched towards Constantinople.
Deserters made their escape during the darkness of night. Sometimes
they precipitated themselves into the ditches of the city, at the
risk of their lives; sometimes they descended from the ramparts by
means of a cord. Every day the Christians found themselves abandoned
by an increasing number of their companions; and these desertions
added to their despair. Heaven was invoked against the dastards; God
was implored that they might, in another life, share the fate of the
traitor Judas. The ignominious epithet of _rope-dancers_ ’sauteurs de
corde) was attached to their names, and devoted them to the contempt of
their companions. William of Tyre refuses to name the crowd of knights
who then deserted the cause of Jesus Christ, because he considers
them as blotted out from the book of life for ever.[119] The wishes
of the Christians against those who fled were but too completely
fulfilled; the greater part perished from want, and others were killed
by the Saracens. Stephen, count of Chartres, more fortunate than
his companions, succeeded in reaching the camp of Alexius, who was
advancing with an army towards Antioch. To excuse his desertion, he
did not fail to paint, in the darkest colours, all the misfortunes and
dangers of the Christians, and to make it appear by his accounts that
God had abandoned the cause of the Crusaders. The despair of several
Latin pilgrims who followed the army of the Greeks was so violent,
that it urged them to horrible blasphemies.[120] They, groaning, asked
why the true God had permitted the destruction of his people? why he
had allowed them, who were going to deliver the tomb of his Son, to
fall into the hands of his enemies? Nothing was heard among the Latin
Crusaders but such strange speeches, and Guy, the brother of Bohemond,
exceeded all the rest in his despair. In the excess of his grief, he
blasphemed more than any, and could not understand the mysteries of
Providence, which betrayed the cause of the Christians. “O God,” cried
he, “what is become of thy power? If thou art still an all-powerful
God, what is become of thy justice? Are we not thy children, are we not
thy soldiers? Who is the father of a family, who is the king who thus
suffers his own to perish when he has the power to save them? If you
abandon those who fight for you, who will dare, henceforward, to range
themselves under your sacred banner?” In their blind grief, all the
Crusaders repeated these impious words. Such was the frenzy of despair
in which sorrow had plunged them, that, according to the report of
contemporary historians, all ceremonies of religion were suspended,
and no priest or layman during many days pronounced the name of Jesus
Christ.
The emperor Alexius, who had advanced as far as Philomelium, was so
terrified by all he heard, that he did not dare to continue his march
towards Antioch. He thought, says Anna Comnena, it was rash to attempt
to succour a city whose fortifications had been ruined by a long siege,
and whose only defenders were soldiers reduced to the lowest state of
misery. Alexius further reflected, says the same historian, upon the
indiscretion and the inconstancy of the Franks, upon their manner of
making war without art or rules, and upon the imprudence with which,
after having conquered their enemies, they allowed themselves to be
surprised by the very same people whom they had conquered. He likewise
thought of the difficulty he should have in making his arrival known
to the Crusaders, and of the still greater difficulty of making their
leaders agree with him upon the best means to save them. All these
motives appeared reasonable; but it is easy to believe that Alexius
was not sorry to see a war going on which destroyed at the same time
both Turks and Latins. However it may be, the resolution which he took
of returning to Constantinople threw all the Christians of Phrygia and
Bithynia into the greatest alarm. The report then current was ’and if
we may believe Anna Comnena, it was from the insinuations of Alexius)
that the Mussulmans were approaching with numerous armies. They were
constantly believed to be coming, and the soldiers of the emperor
themselves laid waste all the country round Philomelium, which, they
said, the Saracens were about to invade. Women, children, all the
Christian families followed the army of Alexius, as it returned to
Constantinople. They bade an eternal adieu to their native country, and
deplored the loss of their property of all kinds. Nothing was heard in
the army but lamentations and groans; but they who evinced the greatest
grief were the Latins, whose wishes were all centred in Syria, and
who lost all hope of assisting their brethren besieged in the city of
Antioch.
When the news of this retreat reached Antioch, it greatly augmented
the depression of the Crusaders. Not a hope remained to them; famine
carried off every day a great number of soldiers; their weakened arms
could scarcely lift the lance or the sword; they had neither strength
to defend their own lives nor to bury their dead. In the midst of such
frightful misery, not a tear was seen, not a sob was heard; the silence
was as complete in Antioch as if the city had been buried in the
most profound night, as if not one living person was left in it. The
Crusaders had not even the courage of despair left. The last feeling of
nature, the love of life, was becoming daily extinct in their hearts;
they feared to meet each other in the public places, and concealed
themselves in the interior of the houses, which they looked upon as
their tombs.
The towers and the ramparts remained almost without defence. Bohemond,
who had taken the command of the place, sought in vain by his speeches
to raise the courage of the Crusaders; in vain the trumpets and the
serjeants-at-arms called them to the combat. Whilst the Mussulmans shut
up in the citadel, and those who besieged the city, every day renewed
their attacks, the Christian warriors remained immovable in their
dwellings. In order to drive them from their retreats, Bohemond was
obliged to give several quarters of the city up to the flames. Raoul
de Caen deplores, in pompous verses, the conflagration and the ruin of
churches and palaces, _built with the cedars of Mount Lebanon_, and in
which shone _the marble of Mount Atlas, the crystal of Tyre, the brass
of Cyprus, the lead of Amathontis, and the iron of England_. The barons
who could no longer enforce the obedience of their soldiers, had not
strength to offer them an example. Then they bitterly remembered their
families, their castles, their wealth, all which they had quitted for
this unfortunate war; they could not comprehend the reverses of the
Christian army, and little was wanting, says William of Tyre, to make
them accuse God of ingratitude, for having refused so many sacrifices
made to the glory of his name.
Matthew of Edessa relates that the Christian leaders offered to give
up the city to Kerboghâ, upon the single condition that he would allow
them and their soldiers to return to their own countries, taking with
them their baggage. As the Saracen general rejected their proposal,
several of them, actuated by despair, formed the project of abandoning
the army, and flying by night towards the coast, but were prevented by
the exhortations of Godfrey and Bishop Adhemar, who pointed out to them
the disgrace which such a step would bring upon them in the eyes of
both Europe and Asia.
The famine had continued its ravages for more than two weeks, and the
Mussulmans pressed on the siege with the greater ardour, from the
conviction that they should soon be masters of the city. Fanaticism
and superstition, which had precipitated the Crusaders into the abyss
in which they were now plunged, alone had the power to reanimate their
courage, and extricate them from such fearful perils. Prophecies,
revelations, and miracles became every day the more frequent
subjects of report in the Christian army. St. Ambrose had appeared
to a venerable priest, and had told him that the Christians, after
overcoming all their enemies, would enter Jerusalem as conquerors, and
that God would there reward their exploits and their labours.[121] A
Lombard ecclesiastic had passed the night in one of the churches of
Antioch, and had there seen Jesus Christ, accompanied by the Virgin and
the prince of the apostles. The Son of God, irritated by the conduct
of the Crusaders, rejected their prayers, and abandoned them to the
fate they had too richly merited; but the Virgin fell at the knees
of her son, and by her tears and lamentations appeased the anger of
the Saviour. “Arise,” then said the Son of God to the priest, “go and
inform my people of the return of my commiseration; hasten and announce
to the Christians, that if they come back to me, the hour of their
deliverance is at hand.”
They whom God had thus made the depositaries of his secrets and his
will, offered, in attestation of the truth of their visions, to
precipitate themselves from a lofty tower, to pass through flames,
or to submit their heads to the executioner; but these proofs were
not necessary to persuade the Crusaders, always ready to believe in
prodigies, and who had become more credulous than ever in the moment
of danger and in the excess of their misfortunes. The imagination of
both leaders and soldiers was easily led away by the promises which
were made to them in the name of Heaven. The hopes of a more prosperous
future began to re-animate their courage. Tancred, as a good and loyal
knight, swore, that as long as he had sixty companions left, he would
never abandon the project of delivering Jerusalem. Godfrey, Hugh,
Raymond, and the two Roberts took the same oath. The whole army, after
the example of their leaders, promised to fight and to suffer until the
day appointed for the deliverance of the holy places.
In the midst of this reviving enthusiasm, two deserters came before
the Christian army, and related that, when endeavouring to escape from
Antioch, they had been stopped, the one by his brother, who had been
killed in fight, the other by Jesus Christ himself. The Saviour of
mankind had promised to deliver Antioch. The warrior who had fallen
under the sword of the Saracens had sworn to issue from the grave
with all his companions, equally dead as himself, to fight with the
Christians. In order to crown all these heavenly promises, a priest
of the diocese of Marseilles, named Peter Barthélemi, came before the
council of the leaders, to reveal an apparition of St. Andrew, which
had been repeated three times during his sleep. The holy apostle had
said to him: “Go to the church of my brother Peter at Antioch. Near
the principal altar you will find, by digging up the earth, the iron
head of the lance which pierced the side of our Redeemer. Within
three days this instrument of eternal salvation shall be manifested
to his disciples. This mystical iron, borne at the head of the army,
shall effect the deliverance of the Christians, and shall pierce the
hearts of the infidels.”[122] Adhemar, Raymond, and the other leaders
believed, or feigned to believe in this apparition, an account of which
soon spread throughout the army. The soldiers said among themselves
that nothing was impossible to the God of the Christians; they further
believed that Jesus Christ was interested in their welfare, and that
God ought to perform miracles to save his disciples and defenders.
During three days the Christian army prepared itself by fasting and
prayer for the discovery of the holy lance.
On the morning of the third day, twelve Crusaders chosen from amongst
the most respected of the clergy and the knights, repaired to the
church of Antioch with a great number of workmen provided with the
necessary instruments. They began by digging up the earth under the
principal altar. The greatest silence prevailed in the church; the
spectators expecting every instant to see the glitter of the miraculous
lance. The whole army, assembled round the doors, which they had had
the precaution to shut, awaited with impatience the results of the
search. The diggers worked during several hours, and had gone to
the depth of twelve feet without any appearance of the lance. They
continued their operations till evening without discovering anything.
The impatience of the Christians still increased. In the middle of the
night another attempt was made. Whilst the twelve witnesses were at
prayers round the sides of the hole, Barthélemi precipitated himself
into it, and in a short time re-appeared, holding the sacred iron in
his hands. A cry of joy arose among the spectators, which was repeated
by the soldiers who waited at the doors, and which soon resounded
through all quarters of the city. The iron on which all the hopes of
the Christians were centred, was exhibited in triumph to the Crusaders,
to whom it appeared a celestial weapon with which God himself would
disperse his enemies. Every mind became excited, and doubts were no
longer entertained of the protection of Heaven. Enthusiasm gave new
life to the army, and restored strength and vigour to the Crusaders.
All the horrors of famine, and even the numbers of their enemies
were forgotten. The most pusillanimous thirsted for the blood of the
Saracens, and all demanded with loud cries to be led forth to battle.
The leaders of the Christian army who had prepared the enthusiasm of
the soldiers, now employed themselves in taking advantage of it. They
sent deputies to the general of the Saracens, to offer him either a
single combat or a general battle. Peter the Hermit, who had evinced
more exaltation than any other person, was chosen for this embassy.
Although received with contempt in the camp of the infidels, he
delivered himself no less haughtily or boldly. “The princes assembled
in Antioch,” said Peter, addressing the Saracen leaders, “have sent
me to demand justice of you. These provinces, stained with the blood
of martyrs, have belonged to Christian nations, and as all Christian
people are brothers, we are come into Asia to avenge the injuries of
those who have been persecuted, and to defend the heritage of Christ
and his disciples. Heaven has allowed the cities of Syria to fall for a
time into the power of infidels, in order to chastise the offences of
his people; but learn that the vengeance of the Most High is appeased;
learn that the tears and penitence of the Christians have turned aside
the sword of divine justice, and that the God of armies has arisen to
fight on our side. Nevertheless we still consent to speak of peace.
I conjure you, in the name of the all-powerful God, to abandon the
territory of Antioch and return to your own country. The Christians
promise you, by my voice, not to molest you in your retreat. We will
even put up prayers for you that the true God may touch your hearts,
and permit you to see the truth of our faith. If Heaven deigns to
listen to us, how delightful it will be to us to give you the name of
brethren, and to conclude with you a lasting peace! But if you are not
willing to accept either the blessings of peace or the benefits of the
Christian religion, let the fate of battle at length decide the justice
of our cause. As the Christians will not be taken by surprise, and as
they are not accustomed to steal victories, they offer you the choice
of combat.”[123] When finishing his discourse, Peter fixed his eyes
upon the leader of the Saracens, and said, “Choose from amongst the
bravest of thy army, and let them do battle with an equal number of the
Crusaders; fight thyself with one of our Christian princes; or give
the signal for a general battle.[124] Whatever may be thy choice, thou
shalt soon learn what thy enemies are, and thou shalt know what the
great God is whom we serve!”
Kerboghâ, who knew the situation of the Christians, and who was not
aware of the kind of succour they had received in their distress,
was much surprised at such language. He remained for some time mute
with astonishment and rage, but at length said, “Return to them who
sent you, and tell them it is the part of the conquered to receive
conditions, and not to dictate them. Miserable vagabonds, extenuated
men, phantoms may terrify women; but the warriors of Asia are not
intimidated by vain words. The Christians shall soon learn that
the land we tread upon belongs to us. Nevertheless I am willing to
entertain some pity for them, and if they will acknowledge Mahomet, I
may forget that this city, a prey to famine, is already in my power; I
may leave it in their hands, and give them arms, clothes, bread, women,
in short, all that they have not; for the Koran bids us pardon all who
submit to its laws. Bid thy companions hasten, and on this very day
take advantage of my clemency; to-morrow they shall only leave Antioch
by the sword. They will then see if their crucified God, who could
not save himself from the cross, can save them from the fate which is
prepared for them.”
This speech was loudly applauded by the Saracens, whose fanaticism it
rekindled. Peter wished to reply, but the sultan of Mossoul, placing
his hand upon his sword, commanded that these miserable mendicants, who
united blindness with insolence, should be driven away. The Christian
deputies retired in haste, and were in danger of losing their lives
several times whilst passing through the army of the infidels. Peter
rendered an account of his mission to the assembled princes and barons;
and all immediately prepared for battle. The heralds-at-arms proceeded
through the different quarters of the city, and battle was promised for
the next day to the impatient valour of the Crusaders.
The priests and bishops exhorted the Christians to render themselves
worthy of fighting for the cause of Jesus Christ; and the whole
army passed the night in prayer and acts of devotion. Injuries were
forgiven, alms were bestowed, and all the churches were filled with
warriors, who humbled themselves before God, and implored a remission
of their sins. The preceding evening some provisions had been found,
and this unexpected abundance was considered as a species of miracle.
The Crusaders repaired their strength by a frugal meal; and towards
the end of the night, that which remained of bread and meal in Antioch
served for the sacrifice of the mass. A hundred thousand warriors
approached the tribunal of penitence, and received, with all the
evidences of piety, the God for whom they had taken up arms.[125]
At length day appeared; it was the festival of St. Peter and St. Paul.
The gates of Antioch were thrown open, and the whole Christian army
marched out in twelve divisions, symbolical of the twelve apostles.
Hugh the Great, though weakened by a long illness, appeared in the
foremost ranks, and bore the standard of the Church. All the princes,
knights, and barons were at the head of their men-at-arms. The only one
of all the leaders that did not appear in the ranks was the count de
Thoulouse; detained in Antioch by the consequences of a wound, he was
charged with the duty of watching the garrison of the citadel, whilst
his companions went to give battle to the army of the Saracens.
Raymond d’Agiles,[126] one of the historians of the crusade, bore the
holy lance, and directed the attention of the soldiers to it. Adhemar
marched by the side of Raymond, announcing to the Crusaders the help of
the celestial legions which God had promised them. A part of the clergy
advanced in procession at the head of the army, singing the martial
psalm, “_Let the Lord arise, and let his enemies be dispersed_.” The
bishops and priests who had remained in Antioch, surrounded by the
women and children, from the top of the ramparts blessed the arms of
the Crusaders, praying the Lord to preserve his people and confound the
pride of his enemies. The banks of the Orontes and the neighbouring
mountains appeared to answer to these invocations, and resounded with
the war-cry of the Crusaders, “_It is the will of God! It is the will
of God!_”
Amidst this concert of acclamations and prayers, the Christian army
advanced into the plain. To judge only by the state of misery to which
they had been reduced, they had rather the appearance of a conquered
army than of an army of men marching to victory. A great number of
the Crusaders were without clothes. The greater part of the knights
and barons marched on foot. Some were mounted on asses and camels,
and, what is not an indifferent circumstance on this day, Godfrey de
Bouillon had been obliged to borrow a horse of the count de Thoulouse.
In the ranks were sick and attenuated soldiers, weakened by famine,
and marching with difficulty, who were only supported by the hope of
conquering or of dying for the cause of Jesus Christ.
The whole country round Antioch was covered with the Mussulman
battalions. The Saracens had divided their army into fifteen bodies
arranged in _échelons_. In the midst of all these, the division of
Kerboghâ, says the Armenian historian, appeared like _an inaccessible
mountain_. The Saracen general, who had no expectation of a battle, at
first believed that the Christians were come to implore his clemency.
A black flag flying over the citadel of Antioch, which was the signal
agreed upon to announce the resolution of the Crusaders, soon informed
him that he had not to deal with supplicants. Two thousand men of his
army, who guarded the passage of the bridge of Antioch, were cut in
pieces by the count de Vermandois. The fugitives carried terror to the
tent of their general, who was playing at chess. Aroused from his
false security, the sultan of Mossoui ordered the head of a deserter
to be cut off who had announced to him the speedy surrender of the
Christians, and then set himself seriously to the task of fighting an
enemy whose auxiliaries were fanaticism and despair.
On marching out of Antioch[127] the Christians advanced westwards
towards the spot where the mountains draw near to the Orontes. Ranged
in order of battle, in a vast space where the mountains formed a
semicircle around them and secured them from surprise, they extended
across the plain a league from the city. Hugh, the two Roberts, the
count de Belesme, and the count of Hainaut placed themselves at the
head of the left wing; Godfrey was on the right, supported by Eustace,
Baldwin du Bourg, Tancred, Rinaldo de Toul, and Erard de Puyset.
Adhemar was in the centre, with Gaston de Béarn, the count de Die,
Raimbaut of Orange, William of Montpellier, and Amanjeu d’Albret.
Bohemond commanded a body of reserve, ready to act upon all points
where the Christians might require assistance. Kerboghâ, who saw the
disposition of the Crusaders, ordered the sultans of Nice, Damascus,
and Aleppo, to make the tour of the mountain and then reascend the
Orontes, so as to place themselves between the Christian army and the
city. He at the same time drew his army up in line of battle to receive
the Christians and repulse their attack. He placed his troops partly on
the heights and partly on the plain. His right wing was commanded by
the emir of Jerusalem, and his left wing by one of the sons of Accien.
For himself he remained upon a high hill, to give his orders and watch
the movements of the two armies.
At the moment of the commencement of the battle, Kerboghâ was seized
with fear, and sent to propose to the Christian princes, that in
order to spare the effusion of blood, they should select some of
their knights to fight against an equal number of Saracens. This
proposal, which had been rejected the day before, could not be adopted
by the leaders of an army full of ardour and confident of victory.
The Christians entertained no doubt that Heaven had declared itself
in their favour, and this persuasion must render them invincible. In
their enthusiasm, they looked upon the most natural events as prodigies
announcing to them the triumph of their arms. A globe of fire, which
on the preceding evening had passed across the horizon and burst over
the camp of the Saracens, appeared to them a sign foretelling their
victory. As they left Antioch a light rain refreshed the burning air
of the climate and the season, and was in their eyes a fresh proof of
the favour of Heaven. A strong wind, which assisted the flight of their
javelins and impeded that of the arrows of the Turks, was for them as
the wind of heavenly anger raised to disperse the infidels. Animated
by this persuasion, the Christian army showed the greatest impatience
to begin the fight. They marched towards the enemy in perfect order. A
profound silence reigned over the plain, on all parts of which shone
the arms of the Christians. No sound was heard in their ranks but the
voices of the leaders, the hymns of the priests, and the exhortations
of Adhemar.
All at once the Saracens commenced the attack by discharging a cloud
of arrows and then rushing on the Crusaders, uttering barbarous
cries. In spite of their impetuous shock, their right wing was soon
repulsed and penetrated by the Christians. Godfrey met with greater
resistance in their left wing; he succeeded, however, in breaking
it and carrying disorder among their ranks. At the moment that the
troops of Kerboghâ began to give way, the sultan of Nice, who had
made the tour of the mountain and returned along the banks of the
Orontes, fell with impetuosity upon the rear of the Christian army, and
threatened destruction to the body of reserve commanded by Bohemond.
The Crusaders, who fought on foot, could not resist the first charge of
the Saracen cavalry. Hugh the Great, warned of the danger of Bohemond,
abandoned the pursuit of the fugitives, and hastened to the succour
of the body of reserve. Then the battle was renewed with redoubled
fury. Kilidj Arslan, who had to avenge the shame of several defeats
as well as the loss of his states, fought like a lion at the head of
his troops. A squadron of three thousand Saracen horse, clothed in
steel and armed with clubs, carried disorder and terror through the
ranks of the Christians. The standard of the count de Vermandois was
carried away, and retaken, covered with the blood of Crusaders and
infidels. Godfrey and Tancred, who flew to the assistance of Hugh and
Bohemond, signalized their strength and valour by the death of a great
many Mussulmans. The sultan of Nice, whom no reverse could overcome,
firmly withstood the shock of the Christians. In the heat of the
combat, he ordered lighted flax to be thrown amongst the low bushes
and dried grass which covered the plain. Immediately a blaze arose
which enveloped the Christians in masses of flame and smoke. Their
ranks were for a moment broken; they could no longer either see or hear
their leaders. The sultan of Nice was about to gather the fruits of his
stratagem, and victory was on the point of escaping from the hands of
the Crusaders.
At this moment, say the historians, a squadron was seen to descend
from the summit of the mountains, preceded by three horsemen clothed
in white and covered with shining armour. “Behold!” cried Bishop
Adhemar,[128] “the heavenly succour which was promised to you. Heaven
declares for the Christians; the holy martyrs George, Demetrius, and
Theodore come to fight for you.” Immediately all eyes were turned
towards the celestial legion. A new ardour inspired the Christians,
who were persuaded that God himself was coming to their aid, and the
war-cry “_It is the will of God!_” was heard as at the beginning of the
battle. The women and children who had remained in Antioch, and were
collected on the walls, animated the courage of the Crusaders by their
cries and acclamations, whilst the priests continued to raise their
hands towards heaven, and returned thanks to God by songs of praise
and thanksgiving for the succour he had sent to the Christians. Of the
Crusaders themselves each man became a hero, and nothing could stand
before their impetuous charge. In a moment the ranks of the Saracens
were everywhere broken, and they only fought in confusion and disorder.
They endeavoured to rally on the other side of a torrent and upon an
elevated point whence their trumpets and clarions resounded; but the
count de Vermandois attacked them in this last post and completely
routed them. They had now no safety but in flight, and the banks of the
Orontes, the woods, the plains, the mountains were covered with the
fugitives, who abandoned both their arms and their baggage.
Kerboghâ, who had been so certain of victory as to have announced the
defeat of the Christians to the caliph of Bagdad and the sultan of
Persia, fled towards the Euphrates, escorted by a small body of his
most faithful soldiers. Several of the emirs had taken to flight before
the end of the battle. Tancred and some others, mounted on the horses
of the conquered enemy, pursued till nightfall the sultans of Aleppo
and Damascus, the emir of Jerusalem, and the scattered wreck of the
Saracen army. The conquerors set fire to the intrenchments behind which
the enemy’s infantry had sought refuge, and a vast number of Mussulmans
perished in the flames.
According to the account of several contemporary historians, the
infidels left a hundred thousand dead on the field of battle. Four
thousand Crusaders lost their lives on this glorious day, and were
placed among the ranks of the martyrs.
The Christians found abundances beneath the tents of their enemies;
fifteen thousand camels and a great number of horses fell into their
hands. As they passed the night in the camp of the Saracens, they had
leisure to admire the luxury of the Orientals, and they examined with
the greatest surprise the tent of the king of Mossoul,[129] resplendent
with gold and precious stones, which, divided into long streets flanked
by high towers, resembled a fortified city. They employed several days
in carrying the spoils into Antioch. The booty was immense, and every
Crusader, according to the remark of Albert d’Aix, found himself much
richer than he was when he quitted Europe.
The sight of the Saracen camp after the battle proved plainly that
they had displayed much more splendour and magnificence than true
courage. The veteran warriors, the companions of Malek-Scha, had almost
all perished in the civil wars which had for so many years desolated
the empire of the Seljoucides. The army that came to the succour of
Antioch was composed of raw troops, levied in haste, and reckoned
under its standards several rival nations, always ready to take up
arms against each other.[130] It is the duty of the historian to admit
that the twenty-eight emirs who accompanied Kerboghâ were almost all
at variance with one another, and scarcely acknowledged the authority
of a chief. On the contrary, the greatest union prevailed on this day
among the Christians. The different bodies of their army fought upon
one single point, and afforded each other mutual support, whereas
Kerboghâ had divided his forces. In this battle, but more particularly
in the circumstances which preceded it, the sultan of Mossoul showed
more presumption than skill; by the slowness of his march he lost
the opportunity of assisting Accien or of surprising the Crusaders.
Afterwards, too certain of victory, he never dreamt of what despair and
fanaticism are able to effect. These two powerful principles greatly
increased the natural bravery of the Franks. The horrible distress to
which they had been reduced only tended to make them invincible, and in
that we shall find the miracle of the day.
When the danger was past, the holy lance which had given so much
confidence to the Crusaders during the battle, no longer excited their
veneration, and lost all its marvellous influence. As it remained in
the hands of the count of Thoulouse and his Provençals, to whom it
brought a great number of offerings, the other nations were not willing
to leave them the sole advantage of a miracle which augmented their
consideration and their wealth; and, as we shall soon see, it was not
long before doubts were raised upon the authenticity of the lance which
had effected such wonders, and the spirit of rivalry did that which
reason might have done in a more enlightened age.
The victory of Antioch appeared to the Saracens to be so extraordinary
an event that many of them abandoned the religion of their prophet.
Those who defended the citadel were so struck with terror and surprise,
that they surrendered to Raymond the very day of the battle. Three
hundred of them embraced the faith of the holy Gospel, and many went
among the cities of Syria declaring that the God of the Christians must
be the true God.
After this memorable day the Turks made scarcely any effort to impede
the march of the Christians. This last triumph of the Franks appeared
to them like a decision of heaven that men ought not to contend
against. Most of the emirs of Syria who had shared the spoils of the
sultan of Persia, considered the invasion of the Christians as a
passing calamity, without thinking of the consequences it might leave
behind, and only sought to take advantage of it to assure their own
domination and independence. The dynasty of the Seljoucides was every
day losing its strength and its splendour. The vast empire of Togrul,
Alp-Arslan, and Malek-Scha was crumbling away on all sides amidst
civil and foreign wars. This empire, created towards the middle of the
eleventh century, whose sudden increase had alarmed Constantinople and
carried terror even among the nations of the West, was soon doomed to
see other states elevate themselves upon its ruins; for, according to
the remark of an historian, it might be said that God was pleased to
show how insignificant the earth is in his eyes, by thus causing to
pass from hand to hand, like a child’s toy, a power so monstrous as to
threaten the universe.
The first care of the Crusaders after their victory was to put, if
we may say so, Jesus Christ in possession of the countries they had
just conquered, by re-establishing his worship in Antioch. The capital
of Syria had all at once a new religion, and was inhabited by a new
people. A considerable part of the spoils of the Saracens was employed
in repairing and ornamenting the churches which had been converted into
mosques. The Greeks and the Latins mingled their vows and their hymns,
and prayed together to the God of the Christians to conduct them to
Jerusalem. The leaders of the army then joined in addressing a letter
to the princes and nations of the West, in which they made a relation
of their labours and their exploits. That they might not trouble the
joy that the news of their victories must create, they took care to
conceal the losses they had sustained;[131] but they must have made
them apparent by calling new warriors to their aid. They solicited by
prayers, and even by threats, the immediate departure of all who had
assumed the cross, and yet still remained in the West.
The Crusaders sent at the same time an embassy to Constantinople,
composed of Hugh, count of Vermandois, and Baldwin, count of Hainault.
The object of this embassy was to remind the emperor Alexius of the
promise he had made to accompany the Christians with an army to
Jerusalem. The count of Hainault perished, with all his train, in Asia
Minor. The count of Vermandois, who took a different route, arrived
safely at Constantinople; but could obtain nothing from Alexius.
Hereupon, whether he was ashamed of having failed in his mission, or
whether he feared to rejoin an army in which he could not maintain the
splendour of his rank, he determined to return to Europe, where his
desertion caused him to be compared to the raven of the ark.[132]
Some days after the battle of Antioch, the greater part of the pilgrims
entreated the leaders to conduct them towards the Holy City, the
principal object of their expedition. The council of the princes and
barons being assembled, the opinions were at first divided. Some of
the leaders thought that they ought to take advantage of the terror
which the victory of Antioch had created in the Saracens. “Both the
East and the West,” said they, “have their eyes upon us; Christ calls
us to the deliverance of his tomb; the Christians who still groan in
the chains of the infidels implore the assistance of our arms; we
have seen the emir of Jerusalem, and the soldiers who ought to defend
the approach to the Holy Sepulchre, fly before us; all the routes are
open to us; let us hasten then to comply with the impatience of the
Crusaders, an impatience which was always so fatal to our enemies; let
us depart from an abode whose pleasures have several times corrupted
the soldiers of Christ; let us not wait till discord shall disturb our
peace and rob us of the fruits of our labours.”
This advice seemed to be dictated by wisdom and prudence, but the
majority of the leaders were full of blind security; they could not
resolve still to dread enemies they had so often conquered, and the
hopes of extending their conquests in Syria made them forget Jerusalem.
Specious reasons were not wanting wherewith to combat the opinions
they had heard. The Christian army was deficient in horses; it was
exhausted by fatigue, by long miseries, and even by its own victories.
As it was now the height of summer, though the Crusaders might have no
enemies, they had to dread during a long march the want of water, and
the heat of both the season and the climate. It was well known that new
warriors from the West were expected in Asia, and prudence commanded
them to wait for them. By the beginning of winter everything would be
prepared for the conquest of Jerusalem, and the united Crusaders would
then march without obstacles or dangers towards Palestine. This opinion
obtained a majority of the suffrages.
The Crusaders had soon cause to repent of their determination. An
epidemic disease made fearful ravages in their army. Nothing was to be
seen in Antioch, says an ancient chronicle, but buryings and funerals,
and death there reigned, neither more nor less, than in some great
battle or defeat. Most of the women and the poor who followed the army
were the first victims to this calamity. A great number of Crusaders
who came from Germany and other parts of Europe met with death
immediately on their arrival at Antioch. Within one month, more than
fifty thousand pilgrims perished by this epidemic.[133] The Christians
had to regret among their leaders Henry d’Asques, Renaud d’Amerbach,
and several other knights renowned for their exploits. In the midst of
the general mourning, the bishop of Puy, who comforted the Crusaders in
their misery, himself gave way under his fatigue and died,[134] like
the leader of the Hebrews, without having seen the promised land. His
remains were buried in the church of St. Peter of Antioch, in the very
spot where the miraculous lance had been discovered. All the pilgrims,
whose spiritual father he had been, honoured his funeral with their
presence and their tears. The leaders, who sincerely regretted him,
wrote to the pope to inform him of the death of his apostolic legate.
They at the same time solicited Urban to come and place himself at
their head, to sanctify the standards of the crusade, and to promote
union and peace in the army of Jesus Christ.
But neither the respect they entertained for the memory of Adhemar,
nor the spectacle of the scourge which was devouring the Christian
army, could close their hearts against ambition and discord. The count
of Thoulouse, who still maintained his claims to the possession of
Antioch, refused to deliver up to Bohemond the citadel of which he
had become master on the day the Christians had defeated the army of
Kerboghâ. These two haughty rivals were several times on the point
of coming to blows, Raymond accusing the new prince of Antioch of
having usurped that which belonged to his companions, whilst Bohemond
threatened to bathe his sword, red with the blood of infidels, in
blood which he said he had too long spared. One day that the princes
and leaders were assembled in the basilica of the church of St. Peter,
engaged in regulating the affairs of the crusade, their deliberations
were disturbed by the most violent quarrels. Notwithstanding the
sanctity of the place, Raymond, in the midst of the council, gave way
to his passion and resentment. Even at the foot of the altar of Christ,
Bohemond hesitated not to make false promises in order to draw the
other chiefs to his party, and repeated several times an oath which he
never meant to keep, that of following them to Jerusalem.
Every day trouble and disorder increased in the Christian army, some
only thinking of aggrandising the states which victory had given them,
whilst others wandered about Syria in search of cities over which they
might unfurl their standards. Bands were seen dispersed in all parts
where there was a chance of a rich booty, fighting among themselves
for their conquests when they were victorious, and a prey to all sorts
of horrors and miseries when they met with unforeseen resistance. The
jealousy which prevailed among the chiefs extended to the soldiers; the
latter quarrelling for the booty gained from the enemy, in the same
manner that the princes and barons contended for the possession of
cities and provinces. Those whom fortune had not favoured complained
of their companions, until some lucky chance allowed them in their
turn to take advantage of all the rights of victory. On all sides the
Crusaders accused each other reciprocally of having enriched themselves
by injustice and violence, although everybody envied the most guilty.
And yet, amidst their conflicts or their misfortunes, the Christians
continued to show the most heroic bravery and resignation; they endured
hunger, thirst, and fatigue without a complaint, and neither deserts,
rivers, precipices, the heat of the climate, nor any other obstacle,
could stop them in their incursions. In every kind of peril they
sought all opportunities of proving their strength and skill, or of
signalizing their valour. Sometimes in the forests or mountains they
encountered savage animals. A French knight, named Guicher, rendered
himself celebrated in the army by overcoming a lion. Another knight,
Geoffrey de la Tour, gained great renown by an action which doubtless
will appear incredible. He one day saw in a forest a lion which a
serpent held within its monstrous folds, and which made the air resound
with his roaring. Geoffrey flew to the assistance of the animal, which
appeared to implore his pity, and with one blow of his sword killed
the serpent, which was intent upon its prey. If we may believe an old
chronicle, the lion thus delivered attached himself to his liberator
as to a master; he accompanied him during the war, and when, after the
taking of Jerusalem, the Crusaders embarked to return into Europe, he
was drowned in the sea whilst following the vessel in which Geoffrey
was.[135]
Several Crusaders, whilst waiting for the signal of departure for
Jerusalem, went to visit their brethren who had established themselves
in the conquered cities. Many of them repaired to Baldwin, and joined
with him in contending against the Saracens of Mesopotamia. A knight,
named Foulque, who went with several of his companions to seek
adventures on the banks of the Euphrates, was surprised and massacred
by the Turks. His wife, whom he had taken with him, was brought before
the emir of Hazart or Hezas. Being of rare beauty, one of the principal
officers of the emir fell in love with her,[136] and asked her of
his master in marriage, who yielded her to him, and permitted him to
espouse her. This officer, deeply in love with a Christian woman,
avoided all occasions of fighting against the Crusaders, and yet,
zealous in the service of his master the emir, made incursions into
the territories of the sultan of Aleppo. Redowan, wishing to avenge
himself, marched with an army of forty thousand men to attack the city
of Hezas. Then the officer who had married the widow of Foulque advised
the emir to implore the assistance of the Christians.
The emir proposed an alliance to Godfrey de Bouillon. Godfrey at
first hesitated, but the Mussulman returned to the charge, and to
disperse all the suspicions of the Christian princes, sent them his son
Mahomet as an hostage. The treaty was then signed, and two pigeons,
says a Latin historian, charged with a letter, brought the news to
the emir, at the same time announcing to him the early arrival of
the Christians.[137] The army of the sultan of Aleppo was beaten in
several encounters by Godfrey, and forced to abandon the territory
of Hezas, that it had begun to pillage. A short time after this
expedition the son of the emir died at Antioch of the epidemic so
fatal to the pilgrims of the West. Godfrey, according to the custom
of the Mussulmans, had the body of the young prince enveloped in rich
purple stuff, and sent it to his father. The deputies who accompanied
this funeral convoy were ordered to express to the emir the regrets of
Godfrey, and to tell him that their leader had been as much afflicted
by the death of the young prince Mahomet, as he could have been by that
of his brother Baldwin. The emir of Hezas wept for the death of his
son, and never ceased to be the faithful ally of the Christians.
The leaders of the crusades still thought no more about setting forward
on their march to Jerusalem, and the autumn advanced without their
being engaged in any expedition of importance. In the midst of the
idleness of the camps, a celestial phenomenon offered itself to the
eyes of the Crusaders, and made a lively impression upon the minds of
the multitude. The soldiers who guarded the ramparts of Antioch saw
during the night a luminous mass, which appeared to be fixed in an
elevated point of the heavens. It seemed as if all the stars, according
to the expression o£ Albert d’Aix, were united in a space scarcely
more extensive than a garden of three acres. “These stars,” says the
same historian, “shed the most brilliant light,[138] and _shone like
coals in a furnace_.” They appeared for a long time as if suspended
over the city of Antioch; but the circle which seemed to contain them
being broken, they dispersed in the air. At the sight of this prodigy,
the guards and sentinels uttered loud cries, and ran to awaken the
citizens of Antioch. All the pilgrims issued from their houses, and
found in this phenomenon a manifest sign of the will of Heaven. Some
believed they saw in the united stars an image of the Saracens, who
were assembled at Jerusalem, and who would be dispersed at the approach
of the Christians; others, equally full of hope, saw in them the
Christian warriors uniting their victorious forces, and then spreading
themselves over the earth to conquer the cities ravished from the
empire of Christ; but many of the pilgrims did not abandon themselves
to these consolatory illusions. In a city where the people had much to
suffer, and had dwelt during many months amidst death and its funeral
rites, the future naturally presented itself under the most sad and
disheartening colours. All who suffered, and had lost the hope of ever
seeing Jerusalem, saw nothing in the phenomenon presented to their eyes
but an alarming symbol of the multitude of pilgrims, which was every
day diminishing, and which promised soon to be entirely dispersed,
like the luminous clouds which they had seen in the heavens. “Things,
however,” says Albert d’Aix, “turned out much better than was expected;
for, a short time afterwards, the princes, on their return to Antioch,
took the field, and brought under their dominion several cities of
Upper Syria.”
The most important of their expeditions was the siege and capture of
Maarah, situated between Hamath and Aleppo. Raymond was the first
to sit himself down before this city, where he was soon joined by
the duke of Normandy and the count of Flanders and their troops. The
Christians met with the most obstinate resistance from the besieged
during several days. The infidels poured arrows and stones upon them in
clouds, together with floods of an inflammable matter, which several
historians pretend to have been the Greek fire. William of Tyre says
that they hurled from the summits of the towers upon the assailants
quick lime and hives filled with bees.[139] Want of provisions soon
began to be felt, and the Crusaders at length experienced such
distress, that many among them subsisted upon the dead bodies of their
enemies.[140] History ought, however, to relate with hesitation the
extremes to which famine is said to have carried them, and to throw
great doubt upon the account of the public sale of human flesh in the
camp of the Christians.[141]
The Crusaders endured all their misfortunes with patience, but they
could not support the outrages committed by the inhabitants of Maarah
upon the religion of Jesus Christ. The infidels raised crosses upon
the ramparts, covered them with ordure, and heaped all sorts of
insults upon them. This sight so irritated the Christians, that they
resolved to redouble their efforts to get possession of the city. They
constructed machines which shook the walls, whilst the soldiers mounted
to the assault; and they succeeded, after a lengthened resistance, in
making themselves masters of the towers and the ramparts. As they
were overtaken by night in the midst of their victory, they did not
venture to penetrate into the place; and when, with the break of day,
they spread themselves through the streets, not a sound was to be
heard,—every part of the city was deserted. The army pillaged the
uninhabited houses, but soon discovered, to their great surprise, that
the whole population of Maarah had taken refuge in subterranean places.
A large quantity of straw, set on fire at the mouths of the caverns
in which the infidels were concealed, soon forced them to issue from
their retreats, and such was the animosity of the conquerors, that the
bewildered and trembling multitude implored their pity in vain. All the
inhabitants of Maarah were either put to the sword or led into slavery;
the city was completely razed to the ground, “which so terrified the
neighbouring cities,” says an historian, “that of their own free will,
and without force, they surrendered to the Crusaders.”
This conquest became the subject of fresh discord. Bohemond, who had
come to the siege, was desirous of keeping a portion of the city,
whilst Raymond pretended to reign over Maarah as its sovereign. The
debate grew warm; the camp of the Christians was filled with confusion
and factions, and the Crusaders were very near shedding their own
blood to ascertain who should be master of a city which they had just
entirely deprived of inhabitants, and given up to pillage. “But God,
who was the leader of this great enterprise,” says le Père Maimbourg,
“repaired by the zeal of the weak and the lowly that which the passions
of the great and the wise of this world had destroyed.” The soldiers
at length became indignant at the thoughts of shedding, for miserable
quarrels, the blood which they had sworn to dedicate to a sacred cause.
Whilst they were most loud in their complaints and murmurs, the report
reached them that Jerusalem had fallen into the hands of the Egyptians:
they had taken advantage of the defeat of the Turks, and of the
unfortunate delay of the Christian army in their invasion of Palestine.
This news redoubled the discontent of the Crusaders, and they loudly
accused Raymond and their other leaders of having betrayed the cause
of God. They announced their intention of choosing fresh leaders, who
should have no other ambition but that of accomplishing their vows,
and would conduct the Christian army to the Holy Land.
The count of St. Gilles and the prince of Antioch, the latter of
whom was, perhaps, no stranger to the general movement, went through
the ranks, and addressed the soldiers, the one upon the necessity of
obedience, the other upon the glory which awaited them at Jerusalem.
The tumult soon became more violent. The clergy menaced Raymond with
the anger of Heaven, whilst his soldiers threatened to abandon his
standard. The Provençals themselves at length refused to obey the
inflexible count of Thoulouse, and the army set seriously to work to
demolish the ramparts of Maarah, the possession of which was the object
of contention.
Whilst this was going on, Tancred had, by either force or address,
got possession of the citadel of Antioch, and planted the standard of
Bohemond in place of that of the count of St. Gilles. Raymond, thus
left alone, and without any hopes of realizing his pretensions, was
obliged to yield to the wishes of the army, and appeared to listen
to the voice of God. After having set fire to the city of Maarah, he
marched out of it by the light of the flames, barefooted, and shedding
tears of repentance. Followed by the clergy, who sang the psalms of
penitence, he abjured his ambition, and renewed the oath he had so
often made, and so often forgotten, of delivering the tomb of Jesus
Christ.