When the Christian army was thus assembled on Calvary, night began

to fall; silence reigned over the public places and around the

ramparts;[181] nothing was heard in the holy city but hymns of

penitence and these words of Isaiah, “_You who love Jerusalem, rejoice

with her_.” The Crusaders exhibited a devotion so animated and so

tender, that it might have been said, according to the remark of a

modern historian,[182] that these men who had just taken a city by

assault, and had committed a horrible carnage, had come forth from a

long retirement and a profound meditation upon our mysteries. These

inexplicable contrasts are often to be observed in the history of the

crusades. Some writers have believed that they found in them a pretext

to accuse the Christian religion itself, whilst others, not less blind

or passionate, have endeavoured to palliate the deplorable excesses

of fanaticism; the impartial historian contents himself with relating

them, and mourns in silence over the weaknesses of human nature.

The pious fervour of the Christians only suspended the scenes of

carnage. The policy of some of the leaders might make them believe

that it was necessary to inspire the Saracens with as much dread as

possible; they thought, perhaps also, that if they released the men who

had defended Jerusalem, they should have to fight them over again, and

that it was not prudent for them, in a distant country and surrounded

by enemies, to undertake the charge of prisoners whose number by far

surpassed that of their own soldiers. The approach of the Egyptian army

likewise was announced, and the dread of a new danger closed their

hearts against pity. In their council, a sentence of death was decreed

against all the Mussulmans that remained in the city.[183]

Fanaticism but too well seconded this barbarous policy. All the enemies

whom humanity or the fatigue of carnage had at first spared, and even

such as had been saved in hopes of a rich ransom, were slaughtered.

They compelled the Saracens to cast themselves from the tops of the

towers and the houses; they made them perish in the midst of flames;

they dragged them from their subterranean concealments to the public

places, and there immolated them upon heaps of dead. Neither the tears

of women nor the cries of infants, not even the sight of the very place

where Christ had pardoned his executioners, could soften the hearts

of the angry conquerors. The carnage was so great that, according

to the report of Albert d’Aix, bodies were seen heaped up, not only

in the palaces, the temples, and the streets, but even in the most

retired and solitary places. Such was the delirium of vengeance and

fanaticism, that these scenes appear not to have been revolting to the

eyes of those who beheld them. The contemporary historians describe

them without thinking of excusing them, and amidst recitals of the most

disgusting details, never allow a single expression of horror or pity

to escape them.[184]

The few Crusaders who had preserved any feelings of humanity had not

the power to check the fury of an army who thought they were avenging

outraged religion. Three hundred Saracens, who had taken refuge on

the platform of the mosque of Omar, were immolated on the day after

the conquest, in spite of the prayers of Tancred, who had sent them

his standard as a safeguard, and was indignant to find that so little

respect was paid to the laws of honour and chivalry.[185] The Saracens

who had retreated to the fortress of David were almost the only persons

that escaped death. Raymond accepted their capitulation, and had

the good fortune and the glory to have it executed; but this act of

humanity appeared so strange to the greater part of the Crusaders, that

they expressed less admiration for the generosity of the count de St.

Gilles than contempt for his avarice.[186]

The carnage did not cease until the end of a week. Such of the Saracens

as had been able to elude pursuit during this period were reserved for

the service of the army. The Oriental and Latin historians agree in

stating the number of the Mussulmans slain in Jerusalem to have been

more than seventy thousand. The Jews met with no more mercy than the

Saracens. The soldiers set fire to the synagogue in which they had

taken refuge, and all perished in the flames.

But it began to be feared that the bodies heaped up in the public

places, and the blood which had flooded the mosques and the streets

might give rise to pestilential diseases, and the leaders gave orders

that the streets should be cleansed, and that a spectacle which, now

fury and fanaticism were satisfied, must have been odious to them,

should be removed from before their eyes. Some Mussulman prisoners, who

had only escaped the sword of the conquerors to fall into a horrible

state of slavery, were ordered to bury the disfigured bodies of their

friends and brothers. “They wept,” says Robert the Monk,[187] “and

transported the carcases out of Jerusalem.” They were assisted in this

melancholy duty by the soldiers of Raymond, who, having entered last

into the city, had not had a large share of the plunder, and sought to

increase it by a close search of the bodies of the Saracens.

The city of Jerusalem soon presented a new spectacle. In the course of

a few days only it had changed its inhabitants, laws, and religion.

Before the last assault it had been agreed, according to the custom

of the Crusaders in their conquests, that every warrior should remain

master and possessor of the house or edifice in which he should present

himself first. A cross, a buckler, or any other mark placed upon a

door, was, for every one of the conquerors, a good title of possession.

This right of property was respected by every soldier, however greedy

of plunder, and the greatest order soon reigned in a city but recently

given up to all the horrors of war. The victory enriched the greater

part of the Crusaders. The conquerors shared the provisions and the

riches they had found, and such as had not been fortunate in the

pillage had no cause to complain of their companions. A part of the

treasures was employed in assisting the poor, in supporting orphans,

and in decorating the altars they had freed from the Mussulmans.

Tancred had as his share all the wealth found in the mosque of Omar.

Among these riches were twenty candelabra of gold, a hundred and twenty

of silver, a large lamp,[188] and many other ornaments of the same

metals. This booty was so considerable, that it would have been enough,

say the historians, to load six chariots, and employed Tancred two days

in removing it from the mosque. The Italian hero gave up a portion of

this to his soldiers and another to Godfrey, to whose service he had

attached himself. He distributed abundance of alms, and placed fifty

gold marks in the hands of the Latin clergy for the reëstablishment

and the decoration of the churches.

But the Crusaders soon turned their eyes from the treasures which

victory had bestowed upon them to admire a conquest much more precious

in their estimation; this was the true cross, which had been borne

away from Jerusalem by Cosroës and brought back again by Heraclius.

The Christians shut up in the city had concealed it from the Saracens

during the siege. The sight of it excited the most lively emotions

in the pilgrims. “_Of this thing_,” says an old chronicle, “_the

Christians were as much delighted as if they had seen the body of

Christ hung thereupon_.” It was borne in triumph through the streets of

Jerusalem, and then replaced in the church of the Resurrection.

Ten days after their victory the Crusaders employed themselves in

restoring the throne of David and Solomon, and in placing upon it a

leader who might preserve and maintain a conquest that the Christians

had made at the expense of so much blood. The council of the princes

being assembled, one of the leaders ’history names the count of

Flanders) arose in the midst of them, and spoke in these terms:[189]

“Brothers and companions; we are met to treat of an affair of the

greatest importance; never did we stand in greater need of the counsels

of wisdom and the inspirations of heaven. In ordinary times it is

desirable that authority should be in the hands of the most able;

with how much greater reason then ought we to seek for the man most

worthy to govern this kingdom, still in a great measure in the power

of the barbarians. Already we are told that the Egyptians threaten

this city, for which we are about to choose a master. The greater part

of the Christian warriors are impatient to return to their country,

and to abandon to others the care of defending their conquests. The

new people then who are going to inhabit this land will have in their

neighbourhood no other Christian nations to assist them in their need

or console them in their disgraces. Their enemies are near them, their

allies are beyond the seas. The king we shall give them will be their

only support amidst the perils which will surround them. He then who

is called upon to govern this country must have all the qualities

necessary to maintain his position with glory; he must unite with the

bravery natural to the Franks, temperance, good faith, and humanity;

for you know by such virtues great principalities are acquired and

kept as well as by arms. Let us not forget, brothers and companions,

that our object to-day is not so much to elect a king for Jerusalem,

as to bestow upon it a faithful guardian. He whom we shall choose as

leader must be as a father to all those who have quitted their country

and their families for the service of Jesus Christ and the defence of

the holy places. He must make virtue flourish in this land where God

himself has given the model of it; he must win the infidels to the

Christian religion, accustom them to our manners, and teach them to

bless our laws. If you elect one who is not worthy, you will destroy

your own work, and will bring ruin on the Christian name in this

country. I have no need to recall to your minds the exploits or the

labours which have placed us in possession of this territory; I will

not remind you of the dearest wishes of our brothers who have remained

in the West. What would be their sorrow, what would be ours, if, on

our return to Europe, we should hear that the public good had been

neglected and betrayed, or religion abolished in these places where

we have restored its altars? Many would then not fail to attribute to

fortune, and not to virtue, the great things we have done, whilst the

evils which this kingdom would undergo would pass in the eyes of men as

the fruit of our imprudence.

“Do not believe, however, brothers and companions, that I speak thus

because I am ambitious of royalty, and that I am seeking your favour or

suffrages. No; I have not sufficient presumption to aspire to such an

honour; I take Heaven and men to witness, that even if you should offer

me the crown, I would not accept it, being resolved to return to my own

country. That which I have said to you is but for the good and glory of

all. For the rest, I supplicate you to receive this advice as I give it

to you, with affection, frankness, and loyalty, and to elect for king

him who by his virtue shall be most capable of preserving and extending

this kingdom, to which are attached both the honour of your arms and

the cause of Jesus Christ.”

Scarcely had the count of Flanders ceased speaking, than all the other

leaders gave him the warmest praise for his prudence and good feelings.

Most of them even thought of offering him the honour he had declined,

for he who in such circumstances refuses a crown, always appears to be

the most worthy of it; but Robert had expressed himself with frankness

and good faith; he longed to return to Europe, and was satisfied with

the honour of bearing the title of “the Son of St. George,” which his

exploits in the holy war had obtained for him.

Among the leaders who could be called upon to reign over Jerusalem,

we must place in the first rank Godfrey, Raymond, the duke of

Normandy, and Tancred. The only object of Tancred was glory in

arms, and he placed the title of knight far above that of king. The

duke of Normandy, likewise, had evinced more bravery than ambition;

after having disdained the kingdom of England, he was not likely

to be anxious to gain that of Jerusalem. If we may believe an

English historian,[190] he might have obtained the suffrages of his

companions; but he refused the throne of David from indolence, which

so irritated God against him, says the same author, that nothing

afterwards prospered with him during the remainder of his life. The

count of Thoulouse had taken an oath never to return to Europe, but

his companions dreaded his obstinate and ambitious character; and

although several authors have said that he refused to ascend the throne

on account of his great age, everything leads us to believe that the

Christians feared to have him for king.

The opinions of the leaders and the army were various and uncertain.

The clergy insisted that a patriarch should be named before they

elected a king; the princes were not at all agreed among themselves,

and of the body of the Crusaders, some would have wished to choose him

whom they had followed through the holy war, whilst others, like the

Provençals, who had no attachment for the count of St. Gilles, and were

not desirous of remaining in Asia, gave all their efforts to keep the

crown of Jerusalem from the prince under whose colours they served.

To terminate the debate, it was decided that the choice should be

made by a special council of ten of the most highly respected men

of the army. Prayers, fasts, and alms were commanded, in order to

propitiate Heaven to guide them in the nomination they were about

to make. They who were called upon to choose the king swore, in the

presence of the whole Christian army, not to listen to any interest or

any private affection, but to decree the crown to wisdom and virtue.

These electors, whose names history has not preserved, gave the utmost

attention to ascertain the opinion of the army upon the merits of

each of the leaders. William of Tyre relates that they went so far

as even to interrogate the familiar associates and servants of all

who had any pretensions to the crown, and that they made them take an

oath to reveal all they knew of the manners, characters, and secret

propensities of their masters. The servants of Godfrey of Bouillon gave

the most striking evidence of his mildness and humanity, but above all

of his exemplary devotion.

To add to this honourable testimony, the exploits of the duke of

Lorraine during the holy war were dwelt upon. They remembered that at

the siege of Nice he had killed the most redoubtable of the Saracens;

that he had split from shoulder to haunch a giant on the bridge of

Antioch, and that in Asia Minor he had exposed his life to save that of

a soldier who was overpowered by a bear. Many other feats of bravery

were related of him, which in the minds of the Crusaders placed him

above all the other competitors.[191]

Godfrey was the leader decidedly in possession of the suffrages of

the majority of the army and the people; and that he might not want

anything in the expression of their wishes for his success, revelations

were announced that God himself declared in his favour. “Many years

before the crusade,” says Albert d’Aix, “a soldier named Hezelon de

Kintzveiler, had fallen asleep in a forest, and, being conveyed in

a dream to the summit of Sinai, he had seen Godfrey, covered with

glory, and accompanied by two celestial messengers, who announced to

him that God had chosen him, as he had done Moses, to be the conductor

and chief of his people.” A clerk, Giselbert ’a canon of St. Mary, of

Aix la Chapelle), related a vision not less miraculous. The duke of

Lorraine had appeared to him seated upon the throne even of the sun.

The birds of heaven from all climates and all points of the horizon,

flew around him in numberless troops. The recital of this apparition

was accompanied by many other circumstances which we have not space to

repeat; but the Crusaders, who were much struck with them, did not fail

to see in the throne of the sun a faithful image of that of Jerusalem,

and in the birds of heaven the multitude of pilgrims who would come

from all countries to do honour to the glorious reign of Godfrey.[192]

These visions, which are despised in an enlightened age, had great

power over the Christian army, and did not contribute less than the

personal merit of the prince of Bouillon to draw upon him the attention

of all. In this disposition of the general mind, the Crusaders looked

with impatience for the decision of the council which was to give a

king to Jerusalem.

At length the electors, after mature deliberations, and an anxious

inquiry for all necessary information, proclaimed the name of Grodfrey.

This nomination caused the most lively joy throughout the Christian

army, and was considered as an inspiration of heaven. By the authority

given to him, Godfrey became the depositary of the dearest interests

of the Crusaders. Every one among them had in some sort confided

his own glory to him, by leaving him the care of watching over and

guiding their conquests. They conducted him in triumph to the church

of the Holy Sepulchre, where he took the oath to respect the laws

of honour and justice. He refused the diadem and the insignia of

royalty, saying that he would never accept a crown of gold in a city

in which the Saviour of the world had been crowned with thorns. He

contented himself with the modest title of defender and baron of the

Holy Sepulchre. It has been pretended that in this he only acted in

obedience to the insinuations of the clergy, who were afraid of seeing

pride seated upon a throne over which the spirit of Christ ought to

reign. However this may be, Godfrey richly merited by his virtues the

title of king which history has given him, and which was far more due

to him than the name of kingdom was to the feeble states he had to

govern.

As the war had the triumph of religion for its object, the clergy

employed themselves in naming bishops, consecrating churches, and

sending pastors to all the cities that had submitted to the power of

the Christians. Piety and disinterestedness ought to have presided

in the choice of the ministers of Christ; but since the death of

the virtuous Adhemar, the greater part of the Latin ecclesiastics,

no longer restrained by his example, had forgotten the humility and

simplicity of their profession. If William of Tyre may be believed,

address and intrigue openly obtained the suffrages, and the spirit of

the religion which had just given Jerusalem a good king, could not

succeed in bestowing upon it prelates respectable either for their

wisdom or their virtues. The clergy, who had ventured to disturb the

election of the king by their intrigues, carried their pretensions as

high as the sovereignty of the city, and claimed with arrogance the

greatest part in the division of the booty won from the infidels.[193]

The Greek priests, in spite of their rights, were sacrificed to the

ambition of the Roman clergy, as they had been in the city of Antioch.

The chaplain of the duke of Normandy caused himself to be proposed as

patriarch of Jerusalem, in the place of Simeon, who had summoned the

warriors from the West. Simeon was still in the isle of Cyprus, from

whence he had continually sent provisions to the Crusaders during the

siege. He died at the moment in which the Latin ecclesiastics were

quarrelling for his spoils, and his death came very opportunely to

excuse their injustice and ingratitude. Arnold, whose morals were more

than suspected, and whose conduct has merited the censure of the

gravest historians, was nominated pastor of the church of Jerusalem.

In the meanwhile fame had proclaimed the conquest of the holy city

throughout all the neighbouring countries. In all the churches founded

by the Crusaders in their passage, thanks were offered up to God for

a victory which must necessarily cause the triumph of the worship and

the laws of Christ in the East. The Christians of Antioch, Edessa,

and Tarsus, with those who inhabited Cilicia, Cappadocia, Syria, and

Mesopotamia, came in crowds to Jerusalem, some for the purpose of

fixing their abode there, others to visit the holy places.

Whilst the faithful were rejoicing over their conquest, the Mussulmans

gave themselves up to despair. The few who had escaped from the

swords of the Crusaders spread consternation wherever they went. The

historians Abul-Mahacam, Elmacin, and Aboul-Feda have described the

desolation which reigned at Bagdad. Zeimeddin, cadhi of Damascus, tore

out his own beard in the presence of the Caliph. The whole divan shed

tears whilst listening to the recital of the misfortunes of Jerusalem.

Fasts and prayers were ordered to mitigate the anger of heaven. The

Imans and poets deplored in pathetic verses and discourses the fate of

the Mussulmans who had become slaves of the Christians. “What blood,”

said they, “has not flowed? What disasters[194] have not befallen the

true believers? Women have been obliged to fly, concealing their

faces; children have fallen under the swords of the conquerors; and

there remains no other asylum for our brothers, so lately masters of

Syria, but the backs of their camels, or the entrails of the vultures.”

The caliph of Bagdad, deprived of his authority, had nothing to

offer but his prayers and tears for the cause of the Mussulmans.

The victories of the Christians had inflicted a mortal blow upon

the dynasty of the Seldjoucides. The sultan of Persia, retired to

the extremity of Coraçan, was occupied in appeasing civil wars, and

scarcely gave a thought to the emirs of Syria, who had shaken off his

authority, and shared his spoils amongst them. The greater part of the

emirs were quarrelling among themselves for the cities and provinces

threatened by the warriors of the West. The discords which accompany

the fall of empires had everywhere sown trouble and division among

the infidels; but such was their grief when they learnt the conquest

of Jerusalem by the Christians, that they united in weeping together

over the outrages committed upon the religion of Mahomet. The Turks of

Syria, and the inhabitants of Damascus and Bagdad placed their last

hope in the caliph of Cairo, whom they had so long considered an enemy

to the prophet, and came in crowds to join the Egyptian army which was

advancing towards Ascalon.

At Jerusalem they soon learnt that this army had reached Gaza, in

the ancient country of the Philistines. Godfrey immediately caused

his brother Eustace and Tancred, who had quitted the city to go and

take possession of Naplouse, to be informed of this. He pressed the

other leaders of the crusade to unite with him and march to meet the

Saracens. The duke of Normandy at first refused to follow him, alleging

that his vow was accomplished; and the count of Thoulouse, who had been

forced to give up to the king the fortress of David, which he pretended

belonged to him by right of conquest, rejected with haughtiness the

prayers of Godfrey, and treated the news of the approach of the

Saracens as a fable.

The refusal of the duke of Normandy and Raymond did not prevent Godfrey

from commencing his march, followed by Tancred, the count of Flanders,

and several other leaders. They learnt on their route that the emir

Afdhal, the same that had taken Jerusalem from the Turks, commanded the

army of the infidels. This general had under his standard an almost

countless multitude of Mussulmans, from the banks of the Tigris and the

Nile, the shores of the Red Sea, and the extremities of Ethiopia. A

fleet had sailed from the ports of Alexandria and Damietta, laden with

all sorts of provisions, and the machines necessary for the siege of

Jerusalem.

Afdhal had taken a solemn oath before the caliph to annihilate for ever

the power of the Crusaders in Asia, and to entirely destroy Calvary,

the tomb of Christ, and all the monuments revered by the Christians.

The march and the intentions of Afdhal soon conveyed terror to

Jerusalem. Raymond and the duke of Normandy were again pressed to join

the Christian army. Women, old men, and priests with tears conjured

the two princes to have pity on the holy city they had delivered. They

represented to them the fatal consequences of their inaction, which

rendered all the labours of the Crusaders useless, and closed for ever

the doors of the East against pilgrims. The voices of all the nations

of the West, they told them, would be raised against them, and the

blood of the Christians would be on their heads. At last Robert and

Raymond allowed themselves to be prevailed upon, and marched with their

troops to join Godfrey. The new patriarch desired to follow them,

bearing with him the wood of the true cross, the sight of which, like

that of the holy lance, would redouble the enthusiasm and the bravery

of the Crusaders.

All the Christians in a condition to bear arms quitted Jerusalem to

go and fight the Mussulmans. There only remained in the holy city the

women, the sick, and a part of the clergy, who, having Peter the Hermit

at their head, addressed night and day prayers to Heaven to obtain the

triumph of the defenders of the holy places, and the last defeat of the

enemies of Christ.

The Christian army, which had at first assembled at Ramla, advanced

across a sandy country, and encamped on the banks of the torrent of

Sorex, in the plain of Saphœa, or Serfend, situated between Jaffa

and Ascalon. The day after the Christians arrived on this plain, they

perceived at a distance, towards seven o’clock in the evening, a vast

multitude, which they took for the army of the enemy. Two hundred

horsemen, who were sent out to reconnoitre, soon returned, however,

with the agreeable intelligence that the multitude they had taken for

the Egyptian army was nothing but a drove of oxen and camels. So rich

a booty at first awakened the avidity of the soldiers, but the prudent

Godfrey, who saw nothing in this circumstance but a stratagem of the

enemy to throw the Christian army in disorder, forbade his soldiers to

leave their ranks. The other leaders, after his example, endeavoured

to restrain the men under their command, and all remained firm beneath

their standards.

The Crusaders learned from some prisoners they had made, that the enemy

were encamped at three leagues from them, and that they were preparing

to come and attack the Christian army. Upon receiving this advice, the

leaders made their dispositions to receive the infidels. The army was

drawn up in nine divisions, and formed a sort of square battalion, so

as to be able at need, to face the enemy at all points. The Crusaders

passed the night under arms. On the following morning ’it was the eve

of the Assumption) the heralds announced by sound of trumpet that

they were about to give battle to the infidels. At break of day the

Crusaders received the benediction of the patriarch of Jerusalem. The

wood of the true cross was carried through the ranks, and shown to the

soldiers as a certain pledge of victory. The leaders then gave the

signal, all the ensigns were unfurled, and the army marched to meet the

Saracens.

The nearer the Christians approached the army of Egypt, the more were

they filled with confidence and hope. Their drums, cymbals, hymns, and

war-songs animated them to the fight. They marched towards the enemy,

says Albert d’Aix, as to a joyous feast. An emir of Palestine, who

followed the army as an auxiliary, could not sufficiently admire, if

we may believe historians, this joy of the soldiers of the cross at

the approach of danger. He came to express his surprise to the king of

Jerusalem, and swore before him to embrace a religion which could give

so much strength and bravery to its defenders.

The Christians soon arrived in the plain of Ascalon. This immense plain

is bounded on the east and south by mountains, and extends on the west

to the sea. On the coast was situated the city of Ascalon, over which

the Mussulman standards floated. At the extremity of the plain the

army of Egypt was drawn up, with the sea and the mountains behind it.

The Crusaders advanced in two lines; the count of Thoulouse commanded

the right wing, the two Roberts and Tancred were placed at the left.

Godfrey commanded a body of reserve, which was at the same time to keep

the garrison of Ascalon in check and fight with the army of Egypt.

Whilst the Christian army was thus marching in battle array, the drove

of oxen and camels that they had met on their route came to their

rear, and followed all their movements. The confused noise of these

animals, mingled with the sound of the drums and trumpets, and the

clouds of dust which arose under their steps, caused them to be taken

for squadrons of horse, and the Mussulmans were persuaded that the

Christian army was more numerous than their own. They were drawn up

in two lines, as the Crusaders were. The Turks from Syria and Bagdad

were on the right; the Moors and Egyptians on the left; the emir Afdhal

occupied the centre with the main body of the Egyptian forces. This

army covered an immense space, and, says Foulcher de Chartres, like a

stag who projects his branching horns, it extended its wings to envelop

the Christians; but a sudden terror rendered it motionless.

In vain the emir endeavoured to rouse the courage of his soldiers. They

fancied that millions of Crusaders had arrived from the West; they

forgot both their oaths and their threats, and only remembered the fate

of the Mussulmans immolated after the conquest of Jerusalem.

Before engaging, all the Crusaders, fully armed, fell on their knees

to implore the protection of Heaven; and rising full of ardour and

hope, marched against the Saracens. If the most truthful historians

are to be believed, they had not more than fifteen thousand foot

and five thousand horse. When they had arrived within bow-shot, the

foot-soldiers made several discharges of javelins, at the same time

the cavalry, increasing their speed, precipitated themselves upon the

enemy’s ranks. At this first charge the duke of Normandy, the count

of Flanders, and Tancred broke through the centre of the Egyptians.

Duke Robert, followed by his bravest knights, penetrated to the place

where Afdhal fought, and got possession of the great standard of the

infidels. The foot-soldiers followed the horse into the _mêlée_, and

cast away their bows and javelins to make use of sword and lance, arms

much more terrible to the Mussulmans.

On all sides the Saracens were thrown into disorder. Towards the end

of the battle Godfrey had had to contend with a troop of Ethiopians,

who bent one knee to the ground to launch their javelins, and then,

springing up, rushed upon the Crusaders with long flails armed with

balls of iron. This redoubtable battalion could not alone resist the

lances of the Christians, and were soon dispersed. An invincible

terror seemed to paralyze the arms of the Mussulmans. Whilst the king

of Jerusalem was pursuing the Ethiopians and Moors who fled towards

the mountains in the vicinity of the field of battle, the Syrians and

the Arabs, who fought in the left wing, were broken by the count of

Thoulouse. Hotly pressed by the conquerors, a great number of them

precipitated themselves into the sea, and perished in the waves;

others sought an asylum in the city of Ascalon, and such was their

eagerness, and so numerous were they, that two thousand were crushed

to death upon the drawbridge. Amidst the general rout, Afdhal was on

the point of falling into the hands of the conquerors; and, leaving

his sword upon the field of battle, had great difficulty in gaining

Ascalon. Historians add, that when, from the walls of that city, he

contemplated the destruction of his army, he shed a torrent of tears.

In his despair, he cursed Jerusalem, the cause of all his evils, and

blasphemed Mahomet, whom he accused of having abandoned his servants

and disciples.

This was a day of terror and death for the Mussulmans. From the

beginning of the battle, the infidels, who had previously burned with

a thirst of vengeance, appeared to have no purpose but to escape by

flight from an enemy who granted no mercy to the conquered. In their

mortal fear, they let fall their arms, and suffered themselves to be

slaughtered without offering the least resistance. Their terrified

crowd stood motionless on the field of battle, and the sword, to

employ the expression of a contemporary,[195] mowed them down like the

grass of the field. Some cast themselves on the ground, and concealed

themselves among heaps of slain; whilst others plunged into caverns,

or scrambled up rocks or trees, where they were shot down with arrows,

like birds.[196] Afdhal, who did not believe himself to be in safety

in Ascalon, embarked on board a fleet which had arrived from Egypt.

Towards the middle of the contest, all the Egyptian vessels which were

near the shore spread their sails, and gained the open sea. From that

moment no hope of safety remained for the scattered army of these

infidels, who were, as they had said, to deliver the East, and whose

multitude was so great, that, according to the expression of old

historians, God alone knew the number of them.[197]

Such was this battle, whose prodigies poetry has taken delight in

celebrating, but which was, in reality, nothing but an easy victory

for the Christians, in which fanaticism even had not the least share.

On this day the presence of celestial legions did not animate the

battalions of the Crusaders, and the martyrs St. George and St.

Demetrius, whom they always believed they saw in great perils, had no

occasion to be present in this fight. The Christians must have learnt

from this _rencontre_ that their new adversaries were much less to

be dreaded than the Turks. The Egyptian army was composed of many

different nations, which were divided among themselves; the greater

part of the Mussulman troops had been levied in haste, and fought for

the first time. The army of the Crusaders, on the contrary, had been

proved by many victories, and their leaders were as skilful as they

were brave. The bold resolution that Godfrey had taken of going to

meet the enemy, raised the confidence of the soldiers, and assisted in

creating fear and disorder among the Egyptians.[198]

If William of Tyre and Robert the Monk may be believed, the Christians

did not lose a single horseman. They might have made themselves masters

of Ascalon, but want of union among the leaders prevented their taking

due advantage of their victory.[199]

After the defeat of the enemy, Raymond had sent a messenger into the

place to summon the garrison to surrender.[200] He wished to plant

his standard on the walls of the city, and retain the conquest for

himself. On the other hand, Godfrey claimed the possession of it and

maintained that Ascalon ought to form part of the kingdom of Jerusalem.

The debates became very warm. The count of Thoulouse, who found all

the leaders of the Christian army against him, listened to nothing but

the dictates of his blind anger; he recommended the garrison to defend

themselves, and set forward with his troops to return to Jerusalem.

Godfrey, after the desertion of Raymond, in vain attempted to besiege

the city. The greater part of the Crusaders, impatient to return

to their own country, abandoned his colours; and, after making the

inhabitants and garrison of Antioch pay him a considerable sum, he was

obliged to follow them to Jerusalem.

The quarrel which was begun between Raymond and Godfrey before Ascalon

was renewed a few days after before the city of Arsouf, situated near

the sea, twelve miles to the north of Ramla. The count of St. Gilles,

who marched first with his troops, undertook to besiege this place, but

as he met with an obstinate resistance, he abandoned the siege, and

continued his march, after having warned the garrison that they had

nothing to fear from the king of Jerusalem. A short time after, Godfrey

having besieged the city, found the Saracens determined to defend

themselves, and as he learnt that their resistance was the fruit of

the counsels of Raymond, he could not restrain his anger, but resolved

to avenge this affront in the blood of his rival. He marched with his

ensigns displayed, against the count de St. Gilles, who, on his part,

was willing to meet him, and prepared for the conflict. The Christians

were on the point of proceeding to extremities, when the two Roberts

and Tancred threw themselves between Raymond and Godfrey, and used

their utmost exertions to appease them. After a long altercation, the

two rivals, overcome by the prayers of the other chiefs, embraced in

the presence of their soldiers, who had taken part in their animosity.

The reconciliation was sincere on both sides. The pious Godfrey, says

Albert d’Aix, conjured his companions to forget the dissension that had

broken out among the Christian warriors, and implored them, with tears

in his eyes, to remember that they had together delivered the holy

tomb, that they were all brothers in Christ, and that concord was still

necessary to defend Jerusalem. When the inhabitants of Arsouf learnt

that the leaders of the Christian army were reconciled, they repented

of their resistance, and engaged to pay a tribute to Godfrey.[201]

After having received and given hostages as a guarantee of the treaty,

Godfrey, followed by all the other chiefs, quitted the territory of

Arsouf, to return to Jerusalem. The Christian army was loaded with an

immense booty. It marched, followed by the droves of cattle it had met

on the banks of the Sorec, and brought back all the riches found in the

camp of the infidels. As they approached Jerusalem, all the trumpets

were sounded, and their victorious flags were unfurled. A crowd of

pilgrims, who came out to meet them, filled the air with their songs

of gladness; these lively expressions of joy mingled with the hymns

of the priests; the echoes, says Robert the Monk, repeated the sounds

of the warlike instruments and the acclamations of the Christians,

and appeared to offer an application of these words of Isaiah: “_The

mountains and the hills shall sing before you the praises of the

Lord_.” The Crusaders entered the holy city in triumph. The great

standard and the sword of the sultan were suspended on the columns

of the church of the Holy Sepulchre. All the pilgrims, assembled in

the very places which the emir Afdhal had sworn utterly to destroy,

returned thanks to Heaven for a victory which crowned all their labours.

The victory of Ascalon was the last of this crusade. At length,

liberated from their vows, after four years of toils and dangers, the

princes of the crusade quitted Jerusalem, whose sole means of defence

now were three hundred knights, the wisdom of Godfrey, and the sword

of Tancred, who had resolved to end his days in Asia. Some embarked on

the Mediterranean, whilst others marched across Syria and Asia Minor.

They arrived in the West bearing palm branches in their hands, and

singing hymns of triumph on their way. Their return was considered as

a miracle, a sort of resurrection, and their presence was everywhere

looked upon as a subject of edification and enthusiasm. Most of them

had been ruined by the holy war; but they brought back from the East

precious relics, which were in the eyes of the faithful a veritable

treasure.[202] Their hearers were never tired of listening to the

recital of their labours and exploits. Tears, doubtless, mingled with

the transports of admiration and joy when they spoke of their numerous

companions whom death had swept away in Asia. There was not a family

that had not to weep a defender of the cross, or did not glorify itself

with having a martyr in heaven. Ancient chronicles have celebrated the

heroic devotion of Ida, countess of Hainault, who made the voyage to

the East, and braved all dangers in search of her husband. Sent by the

Crusaders to Alexius, the count of Hainault, with all the persons of

his suite, had disappeared, without any one being able to say what had

been their fate. Some said they were still prisoners among the Turks,

others that they were killed. Ida sought through many countries of

Asia, but returned to France without having obtained any tidings of her

husband.[203]

The count of Thoulouse, who had sworn never to return to the West, went

to Constantinople, where the emperor received him with distinction, and

gave him the city of Laodicea. Raymond of Orange determined to share

the destiny of the count of Thoulouse, and finish his days in the East.

Among the knights, companions of Raymond de St. Gilles, who returned

to their own country, we must not forget Stephen and Peter de Salviac

de Viel Castel, whom their age holds up as models of brotherly love.

Stephen and Peter de Salviac were twins, and the tenderest affection

united them from their infancy. Peter assumed the cross at the council

of Clermont, and Stephen, although married, and the father of several

children, determined to follow his brother into Asia, and share with

him the perils of so long a voyage. In all battles they were seen

fighting side by side, and they together were present at the sieges of

Nice, Antioch, and Jerusalem. A short time after their return to Le

Quercy, they both died in the same week, and were buried in the same

tomb. On their tomb may still be read an epitaph which has transmitted

to us the remembrance of their exploits and of their touching

affection. Gaston de Béarn returned with them into Europe; but some

years after, having re-entered upon his estates, he again took up arms

against the infidels, and died in Spain, fighting against the Moors.

Peter the Hermit, on his return to his country, concealed himself

from the eager curiosity of the faithful, and shut himself up in a

monastery he had founded at Huy.[204] He lived there in humility and

penitence, and was buried among the cenobites he had edified by his

virtues. Eustace, the brother of Godfrey and Baldwin, returned to

take possession of the moderate inheritance of the family, and gave

no further trouble to fame by his exploits. Alain Fergent, duke of

Brittany, and Robert, count of Flanders, returned to their states,

repaired the evils caused by their absence, and died regretted by their

subjects.[205]

The duke of Normandy was less fortunate than his companions. The sight

of the holy places, or the long series of labours and evils he had

endured in the cause of religion, had had no effect upon his indolent,

undecided character. On his return from the Holy Land, he passed

through Italy, where he fell in love with Sibylla, the daughter of

the count of Conversana, and allowed his passion to detain him from

his duchy more than a year. By this delay he lost the opportunity of

ascending the throne of England, to which, after the death of his

brother William Rufus, his birth, and the great renown he had acquired

in the crusade, gave him undoubted right. When at length he returned to

Normandy, he was received with transports of admiration and joy; but

upon resuming the reins of government, he showed nothing but weakness;

he gave himself up entirely to debauchery, and surrounded himself by

none but dissipated, greedy courtiers, who drew upon him the hatred of

his subjects. His brother, Henry I., who had succeeded William Rufus,

took advantage of the degraded condition of Robert, and the contempt

into which he was fallen, to take possession of Normandy. At the end

of a battle this unfortunate prince was made prisoner by his brother,

who led him in triumph to England, and caused him to be confined in the

castle of Cardiff, in the province of Glamorgan. The remembrance of his

exploits in the Holy Land had no effect in mitigating his misfortunes.

After twenty-eight years of captivity, he died forgotten by his

subjects, his allies, and the ancient companions of his glory.

The return of the Crusaders, and the account of their conquests,

excited great enthusiasm, and renewed the eagerness for crusades and

pilgrimages among the nations of the West. They were not now affected

by the passion for delivering the holy places, but by that of visiting

and defending them. Europe exhibited a second time the scenes which

had followed the council of Clermont; new discourses were heard, and

fresh miracles related. Cities, lands, and castles were again offered

for sale. He who preferred repose and his country to the glory of the

holy pilgrimage passed for a very lukewarm Christian; whilst all who

had quitted the standard of the crusade were objects of contempt in

the eyes of the faithful, and were threatened with the thunders of the

Church.

A general cry was raised against the brother of the king of France,

who could not be pardoned for having abandoned the Christian army in

a cowardly manner, and returned to Europe without seeing Jerusalem.

Stephen, count of Chartres and Blois, was not allowed to remain in

peace in his states and family; his people were astonished at his

shameful desertion, and his wife Adela reproached him with having

shrunk from the duties of religion and chivalry. These unfortunate

princes, and all who had deserted the standards of the holy war, were

obliged to quit France, and again take the route for Asia.

Many of the princes and barons who had not partaken of the enthusiasm

of the first Crusaders, accused themselves of culpable indifference,

and were drawn into the general movement. Among these latter was

William IX., count of Poictiers, a relation of the emperor of Germany,

and the most powerful vassal of the king of France. An amiable and

intelligent prince, of not at all a warlike character, he left, to take

up the pilgrim’s staff, a voluptuous and gallant court, which he had

often delighted with his songs. He took upon him the cross at Limoges,

and set out for the East, accompanied by a great number of his vassals,

among whom were a vast many women and young girls.[206] His example

was followed by William, count of Nevers, Orpin, count of Bourges, and

Eude, duke of Burgundy. This last prince, perhaps, was influenced less

by a desire of visiting Jerusalem than by his anxiety to recover the

remains of his daughter Florine, who had been killed with Sweno in Asia

Minor.

In Italy, Albert, count of Blandras, and Anselm, archbishop of Milan,

placed themselves at the head of a countless multitude of pilgrims.

Germany witnessed the departure of Conrad, marshal of the emperor

Henry, Wolf IX., duke of Bavaria, the princess Ida, margravine of

Austria; and a great number of lords and knights.

In this new expedition, as in the first, many of the Crusaders were

led away by a desire for seeking adventures and visiting foreign

countries. The brilliant success of Baldwin, Bohemond, and Godfrey

aroused the ambition of the barons who had remained in Europe. Humbert

II., count of Savoy, who set out for the Holy Land with Hugh the

Great, made a donation to the monks of the Bourget, in order to obtain

by their prayers, a fortunate establishment ’_consulat_) in his

foreign voyage.[207] Many lords and knights made similar donations,

whilst others founded monasteries and churches, setting out with the

hope that God would bless their arms, and enable them to acquire rich

principalities in the East.

The Crusaders assembled in several troops, and crossing the

territories of the Hungarians and Bulgarians, united under the walls

of Constantinople to the amount of two hundred thousand. These new

pilgrims repeated the scenes of violence which had so seriously

alarmed Alexius in the first expedition. The Greek emperor, faithful

to his policy, opposed force by cunning; he flattered the vanity or

the avarice of men he could not subdue, and paid very dearly for the

insincere homage of the leaders of the crusade. He called Raymond

to his assistance, who was then in his government of Laodicea. The

presence and the persuasive discourses of the count of Thoulouse

calmed the perturbed spirits of the Crusaders for a few days; and when

they set forward on their march to Palestine, he was charged with

conducting them across Asia Minor.

Among this confused mass of pilgrims[208] was a crowd of monks,

old men, women, and young girls. They were without discipline, and

marched without either precaution or order; but they had such perfect

confidence in their arms, that they boasted, on leaving Constantinople,

that they would go to Bagdad, and wrest Asia from the hands of the

infidels. Their troop was divided into three bodies. At the head of the

first were the duke of Burgundy, the count of Chartres, the archbishop

of Milan, the count de Blandras, and Raymond de St. Gilles. “The

archbishop of Milan,” says Albert d’Aix, “had brought into Asia an arm

of St. Ambrose, with which he gave his benediction to the Crusaders.

Raymond carried with him the lance that had been found at Antioch, to

which he looked for new miracles.”

This first body, advancing towards Paphlagonia, took the city of

Ancyra by assault, and laid siege to the fortress of Gangras. The

garrison made a strong resistance, and forced the Christians to

retire. They were in want of provisions, and entertained but little

hopes of obtaining any in an enemy’s country; and whilst sinking into

despondency they quite unexpectedly found themselves confronted by a

Turkish army.

Kilidge Arslan, who had retired to Iconium, which became the capital of

his states, after the taking of Nice, had got together the remains of

his army, and recruited his strength. The sultan of Mossoul, that same

Kerboghâ who, three years before, had lost the battle of Antioch, had

joined the son of Soliman, and burned to meet the Christians again.

Although they both had a considerable number of troops, they contented

themselves, at first, with harassing the Crusaders in their march.

Sometimes the infidels got before the Christians, and ravaged the

country and filled up the wells and the cisterns; whilst at others,

they laid ambushes for them, and massacred all who strayed away from

the main body. The Christian army had suffered much in crossing the

defiles of Paphlagonia; and fatigue, hunger, and thirst had greatly

weakened the strength of the pilgrims, when the sultans of Mossoul and

Iconium determined upon giving them battle on the banks of the Halys.

Raymond, before the engagement, caused the miraculous lance to be

carried through the Christian ranks; whilst the archbishop of Milan,

followed by his clergy, exhibited the arm of St. Ambrose, and offered

up prayers for victory; but neither the prayers of the clergy, nor the

sight of the holy lance, nor even the prodigies of valour displayed

by the Crusaders, could secure them a triumph. After a sanguinary

conflict, they retired to their camp in great disorder. The Turks,

who had met with a determined resistance, did not at first dare to

follow up their victory, and satisfied themselves with remaining

masters of the field of battle, and plundering the dead. During the

night the Crusaders became aware of the extent of their loss. Raymond

and the other terrified leaders sought safety in flight. As soon as

their absence was discovered, terror and despair pervaded the camp of

the Christians; every one attempted to fly, abandoning the baggage,

the sick and the wounded. The roads were soon covered with soldiers,

women, and children, who embarrassed each other in their confusion,

and were ignorant where they might meet with the enemy, or where they

should look for the Christian army. The Turks, rendered aware of their

victory by the cries and groans which resounded from the neighbouring

mountains, hastened to the camp of the Crusaders, massacring or

making prisoners all they met. They then hotly pursued the fugitives,

slaughtering them without mercy. The darkness of the night added to the

horrors of this scene of carnage. The pilgrims lost themselves in their

confusion, and seemed to seek the swords they wished to avoid; others

stopped exhausted by fatigue, and awaited death as an end of their

calamities.

When day appeared, the country was covered with the bloody, plundered

bodies of the Christians. Raymond de St. Gilles, the duke of Burgundy,

the count of Chartres, the count of Blandras, and some other leaders

who had fled by different routes, met at Sinope, where they could

scarcely gather around them a few thousand men, the remains of an army

which had counted under its standards more than a hundred thousand

pilgrims.

A second army of Crusaders, led by the count de Nevers and the count

de Bourges, advanced as far as Ancyra, and directed its course towards

Heraclea.[209] This army looked for traces of that which had preceded

it; but instead of finding the Christians, they soon met with the

victorious army of the Turks, which came to meet them, attacked them,

and routed them. The count de Nevers with great difficulty found

refuge in Germanicopolis. Taking for guides some Greek soldiers, he

was pillaged and abandoned by them in a desert. He went through the

greatest dangers for several days; and, exhausted with fatigue and

covered with rags, he at length arrived at Antioch, whither the news of

his defeat had preceded him.

A third troop, composed, according to the authors of the time, of more

than a hundred and fifty thousand pilgrims, set out from Constantinople

under the orders of the count of Poictiers, the duke of Bavaria, and

Hugh de Vermandois. They took possession of Philomelium and Samalia,

and marched across devastated provinces towards the city of Stankon,

where they expected to unite themselves with the army of the count

de Nevers. It was before this city that the pilgrims heard of the

disasters and defeat of the Christian armies that had preceded them.

They advanced towards Heraclea, and were not long in meeting with the

army of Kilidge Arslan, which was waiting for them in an advantageous

position. As they had no longer anything to hope for except from

their courage, they did not seek to avoid the enemy. A rivulet which

separated the Christians from the infidels, was the signal and the

theatre of battle. The Crusaders, pressed by thirst, rushed towards

it in crowds. The Turks immediately discharged upon them a shower of

javelins and arrows. The two armies were soon completely engaged;

but the Christians fighting in a confined and marshy place, could

neither draw up their forces nor make use of the lance or the sword.

Their bravery and their efforts were of no avail against the skilful

manœuvres of Kerboghâ and Kilidge Arslan. The Turks penetrated the

Christian army everywhere; the carnage was horrible; scarcely a

thousand of the Crusaders escaped from either death or slavery. The

margravine of Austria disappeared amidst the tumult of the battle. Some

say that she was crushed under the feet of the horses; whilst others

assert that she fell into the hands of the enemy, and went to live and

die in the harem of the sultan of Mossoul. The greater part of the

women and young girls that followed the Christian army met with the

same fate. The count of Vermandois, pierced by two arrows, fled across

Lycaonia, and arrived with a feeble escort at the city of Tarsus, where

he died of his wounds.

The duke of Bavaria and the count of Poictiers, after having wandered

a long time in deserts and forests, arrived almost naked at Antioch,

in which city were assembled all the Crusaders that had escaped after

their defeat. The leaders, by gathering together the wrecks of their

troops, were able to form an army of ten thousand men, with which they

marched to Jerusalem. Whilst coasting the Sea of Syria, they took

the city of Tortosa, which they gave up to Raymond, although they

had accused him, only a few days before, of having been the cause

of all their disasters. Upon their arrival in Palestine, they found

new enemies to contend with. The duke of Burgundy[210] and the count

of Blois were killed in a battle fought near Ramla. Arpin, count de

Berri,[211] fell alive into the hands of the Saracens, and died in

slavery. The count de Blandras, the count of Savoy, William, count of

Poictiers, the count de Nevers, and the duke of Bavaria only led a

small number of their soldiers back to Europe.[212]

Such are the principal events of the first crusade, the commencement

and the end of which were marked by the greatest disasters, and which

deprived Europe of more than a million of men. When we reflect on the

energies displayed and the forces employed in this expedition by the

West, we are at first astonished that it did not succeed.

It has often been repeated, when speaking of this holy war, in which

the East beheld an army of six hundred thousand men brought against

it, “that Alexander conquered Asia with thirty thousand men.” It is

more than probable that the Greeks who wrote the life of Alexander have

diminished the number of his forces in order to heighten the splendour

of his victories;[213] but, be that as it may, it must be admitted that

the expedition of the Macedonian conqueror did not present the same

dangers, or the same obstacles that the Crusaders had to encounter.

The armies which left Greece for Asia had less to suffer from change

of climate, or the length and difficulties of the voyage than those

who came from the extremities of the West. The Macedonians, in their

invasion of the East, had scarcely any nation to contend with but the

Persians, an effeminate people, previously several times vanquished

by the Greeks; whilst the Crusaders had to pass through a crowd of

unknown, barbarous hordes, and when arrived in Asia, found, as enemies,

several nations of conquerors.

The Greeks of Alexander’s expedition did not go into Asia to introduce

new laws, or change the manners and religion of the people; they even

adopted something of the costumes and usages of the Persians, which

very much facilitated their conquests.[214] In the crusades, on the

contrary, we behold two religions armed one against the other, which

redoubled the hatred of the combatants, and forbade all approximation.

As soon as the standard of Mahomet floated over a city, the Christians

fled from it; whilst the cross of the Christians had the same effect

upon the Mussulmans. As the greater part of the Mussulman cities which

fell into the hands of the Christians were deserted, the latter were

obliged to people the provinces they conquered, and exhaust their

armies, to found, in some sort, colonies wherever their arms triumphed.

If it be allowed that no wars are more sanguinary than religious

wars, there are certainly none in which it is more difficult for a

conqueror to extend or preserve his conquests. This is a very important

observation, if we would appreciate the results of this crusade.

On all occasions where bravery alone was required, nothing can be

comparable to the exploits of the Crusaders. When reduced to a small

number of combatants, they triumphed no less over their enemies than

when they consisted of vast armies. Forty thousand Christians obtained

possession of Jerusalem, defended by a garrison of sixty thousand

Saracens. There remained scarcely twenty thousand men under their

standards, when they had to contend with all the forces of the East

in the plains of Ascalon. If Alexander performed greater things, and

particularly if he conquered a greater number of nations, it was

because he commanded a disciplined army, of which he was the absolute

leader. All his military and political operations were directed by

one same mind and one same will. It was not thus in the army of the

Crusaders, which was composed of many nations, and held within itself

the fatal germs of license and disorder. The feudal anarchy with which

Europe was then distracted followed the defenders of the cross into

Asia, and that turbulent spirit of the knights, which constantly led

them to have recourse to arms, was precisely that which checked and

bounded their conquests.

When we think of their ever reviving discords, of the calamities which

were the consequences of them, of that excess of bravery that made them

commit so many faults, of that want of foresight which they almost

always evinced on the eve of great dangers, one thing alone surprises

us, and that is, that they did not entirely fail in their enterprise.

Philosophy may, with some justice, oppose its reasonings to the marvels

of this war; but she will find in it an abundant source of profound

and new observations. In it she will see man with his inexplicable

contrasts; in it she will meet with the passions, with all that

characterizes them, with all they possess that most plainly exhibits

the human heart and mind. Reason, without doubt, must deplore the

disorders, the excesses, and the delirium of the Crusaders; but such

is human weakness, that we always interest ourselves in great events

wherein man is fully developed.

The imagination of the most indifferent must be struck with the

instances of heroism which the history of the crusades abounds in. If

many of the scenes of this great epoch excite our indignation or our

pity, how many of the events fill us with admiration and surprise!

How many names, rendered illustrious by this war, are still the pride

of families and nations! That which is perhaps most positive in the

results of the first crusade, is the glory of our fathers,—that glory

which is also a real good for a country; for great remembrances found

the existence of nations as well as families, and are the most noble

sources of patriotism.

In remotest antiquity, one of those passions which sometimes act upon

a whole people, precipitated Greece upon Asia. This war, famous and

rich in exploits, inflamed the imagination of the Greeks, and was for a

great length of time celebrated in their temples and upon their stage.

If great national remembrances inspire us with the same enthusiasm, if

we entertain as strong a respect as the ancients for the memory of our

ancestors, the conquest of the Holy Land must be for us as glorious and

memorable an epoch as the war of Troy was for the people of Greece.

These two wars, however different in their motives, present almost the

same results to the enlightened observer; both offer grand lessons to

policy and illustrious models to valour; both founded new states, new

colonies, and established relations between distant nations. Both had a

marked influence upon the civilization of the ages that followed them:

both, in short, developed great passions and fine characters, and thus

furnished the happiest subjects for the epic muse, who delights only in

celebrating prodigies and wonders.

When comparing these two memorable wars, and the poetical masterpieces

that have celebrated them, we cannot but think that the subject of the

“Jerusalem Delivered” is more wonderful than that of the “Iliad.” We

may still further say, that the heroes of Tasso are more interesting

than those of Homer, and their exploits less fabulous. The cause which

armed the Greeks was much less important than that which actuated the

Christians. The latter, in some sort, took up arms for the assistance

of misfortune and oppressed weakness. They went to defend a religion

able to make them sensible of ills that were endured far from them, and

to make them find brothers in regions unknown to them. This character

of sociability is not to be found in any belief of the ancients.

The Crusaders exhibited another spectacle with which antiquity was

unacquainted—the union of religious humility with the love of glory.

History shows us constantly these haughty heroes, the terror of Asia

and the Mussulmans, bending their victorious brows to the dust, and

marching from conquest to conquest, covered with the sack of penitence.

The priests, who exhorted them in battle, only raised their courage

by reproaching them with their sins. When they met with reverses, a

thousand voices were raised among them to accuse their own misconduct;

and when they were victorious, it was God alone that gave them the

victory, and religion forbade their claiming glory from it.[215]

The historian may be permitted to think that this difference

between the heroes of the “Iliad” and those of the holy war is not

sufficiently marked in the poem of “Jerusalem Delivered.”[216] Another

reproach may likewise be addressed to the bard of Rinaldo and Godfrey;

the ideas of magic and gallantry which he has too freely lavished upon

his poem are not in accordance with the truth of history. Magic, which

is nothing but a sort of degenerated superstition, and which only

deals with small things, was but little known to the Crusaders. Their

superstition, however gross, had something noble and grand in it, which

associated them sufficiently with the spirit of the epopée, without the

poet having anything to alter; their character and manners were grave

and austere, and exceedingly well suited to the dignity of a religious

epic. It was not till long after the first crusade that magic formed

any part of the superstition of the Franks, or that their warlike

manners abandoned the prominently epic character which distinguished

them, to adopt the romantic character which they have preserved in all

books of chivalry. It appears to us that we discover in Tasso much more

of the manners of the times in which he lived than of those of the

end of the eleventh century, the period of the events which form the

subject of his poem.

But it does not enter into the plan or the object of this work to carry

such observations further.[217] After having spoken of the heroic deeds

and of all that was wonderful in the first crusade, I will turn my

attention to the immediate effects it produced upon Europe and Asia.

We are sufficiently well acquainted with the evils by which it was

followed; great disasters are the familiar subjects of history, but the

slow and almost insensible progress of the good that may result from a

great revolution, is much less easily perceived.

The first result of this crusade was to carry terror among the

Mussulman nations, and to place it out of their power to undertake for

a length of time any warlike enterprises against the West. Thanks to

the victories of the Crusaders, the Greek empire extended its limits,

and Constantinople, which was the road to the West for the Saracens,

was rendered safe from their attacks. In this distant expedition Europe

lost the flower of its population, but it was not, as Asia was, the

theatre of a bloody and disastrous war; of a war in which nothing was

respected, in which provinces and cities were, by turns, ravaged by

the conquerors and the conquered. Whilst the warriors of Europe were

shedding their blood on the plains of the East, the West remained in

profound peace. Among Christian nations it was then considered a crime

to take up arms for any other cause than that of Jesus Christ. This

opinion contributed greatly to check the frightful brigandage that had

prevailed, and to increase respect for _the truce of God_, which was,

in the middle ages, the germ or the signal of the best institutions.

Whatever were the reverses of the crusades, they were less deplorable

than the civil wars and the scourges of feudal anarchy that had so long

ravaged all the countries of the West.

This first crusade produced other advantages to Europe.[218] The

East, by the holy war, was in some sort laid open to the West, which,

before, was but little acquainted with it; the Mediterranean became

more frequented by European vessels, navigation made some progress,

and commerce, particularly that of the Pisans and Genoese, must have

been increased and enriched by the foundation of the kingdom of

Jerusalem. A great part, it is true, of the gold and silver of Europe

was carried into Asia by the Crusaders; but these treasures, heaped

up and concealed by avarice and fear, had been long abstracted from

circulation; the gold which was not carried away by the Crusaders

circulated more freely, and Europe, with a less quantity of money,

appeared all at once more rich than it had ever been.

We cannot perceive, whatever may have been asserted, that in the

first crusade Europe received any great quantity of knowledge from

the East. During the eleventh century, Asia had been the theatre of

the most sanguinary revolutions. At this period the Saracens, but

more particularly the Turks, cultivated neither the arts nor the

sciences. The Crusaders had no other relation with them but a war of

extermination. On another side, the Franks held the Greek among whom,

besides, the arts and sciences were declining, in too much contempt to

borrow any kind of instruction from them; nevertheless, as the events

of the crusade had strongly affected the imagination of nations, this

great and imposing spectacle was sufficient to give an impetus to the

human mind in the West. Several writers undertook to trace the history

of this memorable period. Raymond d’Agiles, Robert the monk of St.

Remy, Tudebode, Foulcher de Chartres, Abbot Guibert, Baudry, the bishop

of Dol, and Albert d’Aix were contemporary historians, and most of them

ocular witnesses of the conquests and exploits they have described.

The histories they have left us are not destitute of merit, and some

of them are even better than that which was written of the same kind

among either the Greeks or the Arabs. These writers were animated in

their labours by the same spirit of piety which governed the heroes of

the cross. This spirit of piety caused them to take up the pen, and

persuaded them that they wrote for the cause of God. They would have

thought themselves wanting in their duty as Christians, if they had

not employed their abilities in transmitting the events of the holy

war to posterity. In whatever manner we judge of their motives, we

cannot avoid being convinced that they have rendered great services to

history, and that without them the heroic times of our annals would

have remained without monuments.

The wonderful portion of the character of this first crusade likewise

awakened the epic muse. Raoul de Caen,[219] who, in his history,

sometimes sounds the epic trumpet in order worthily to celebrate the

“gestes” of Tancred, is not deficient in either warmth or fancy. The

conquest of Jerusalem was during the twelfth century the subject of

several works in verse. A Limousin knight, Geoffrey de la Tour, called

the prior or abbot of the Vigeois, described very tolerably the events

of these wars in a large volume all written in his maternal tongue,

and in vulgar rhyme, in order that the people might understand it the

better. This poem, written in verse, which was the fruit of the labour

of twelve years, is lost. Many other similar works have doubtless

shared the same fate; but that which remains suffices to prove that

human intelligence began to expand at the commencement of the twelfth

century.

Before this period, the science of legislation, which is the first and

most important of all, had made but very little progress. Some cities

of Italy and the provinces near the Pyrenees, where the Goths had

encouraged the Roman laws, alone exhibited glimmerings of civilization.

Among the rules and ordinances that Gaston de Béarn laid down before

his departure for the Holy Land, are to be found many points and

particulars which deserve to be preserved by history, because they

exhibit the feeble beginnings of a legislation which time and fortunate

circumstances would perfect. _Peace_, says this legislator of the

eleventh century, _shall be observed at all times towards clerks,

monks, travellers, and ladies and their suite.—If any one takes refuge

in the abode of a lady, he shall enjoy security of person, on paying

all loss or consequent injury. Let the peasant live in peace; let his

cattle and agricultural instruments be exempt from seizure._[220] These

benevolent dispositions were inspired by the spirit of chivalry, which

had made some progress in the wars against the Saracens of Spain; they

were particularly the works of the councils[221] which undertook to put

a stop to private wars and the excess of feudal anarchy. The holy wars

beyond the seas finished that which chivalry had begun, they perfected

chivalry itself. The council of Clermont and the crusade that followed

it only developed and consolidated all which preceding councils, all

that the wisest lords and princes, had done for the cause of humanity.

Many of the princes of the crusades, such as the duke of Brittany and

Robert count of Flanders, signalized their return by establishing

wise regulations. A few salutary institutions began to displace the

violent abuses of feudalism, and there might be seen, at least in

some provinces, what a regime founded by the sword could exhibit of a

moderate kind in its legislation.

It was in France that these changes were most obvious, because France

had taken the greatest part in the crusade. Many nobles emancipated

their serfs upon their following them in this expedition. Giraud and

Giraudet Adhemar de Monthiel, who followed their brother, the bishop of

Puy, to the holy war, to encourage and reward some of their vassals,

by whom they were accompanied, granted them several fiefs by an act

drawn up in the same year as the taking of Jerusalem. We might quote

many similar acts made during the crusade and in the first year that

followed it. Liberty awaited in the West the small number that returned

from the holy war, who seemed to acknowledge no other master but Jesus

Christ.

In this crusade the nobility lost some portion of a power which they

had abused, but they had more splendour and were held in greater

honour. The king of France, although for a long time obnoxious to the

censures of the Church, and although he did not distinguish himself

by any great personal qualities, had a more tranquil and prosperous

reign than his predecessors; he began to shake off the yoke of the

great vassals of the crown, of whom several were ruined or perished

in the holy war. We have often repeated that the crusade placed great

wealth in the hands of the clergy; but we must likewise add, that the

clergy composed the most enlightened part of the nation, and that

this increase of prosperity was in the nature of things. After the

first crusade, was seen that which is always to be observed in all

nations that are progressing in civilization. Power had a tendency to

centralize itself in the hands of him who protected liberty. Glory

became the reward of all who were called upon to defend their country;

consideration and riches took a direction towards that class from which

intelligence was to be expected.

It is certain that knowledge arose in Europe among the clergy, and that

they alone were able to consecrate in some way many of the salutary

results of the crusades. As long as the clergy powerfully assisted

the progress of civilization, they preserved their wealth; as soon as

they went beyond civilization, they lost it. This is the course of

things on earth. As long as institutions are favourable to society,

society reveres them;[222] when under some relations they are esteemed

less useful, they lose their importance. Without any necessity for

declamation, we must leave the ingratitude natural to nations to take

its course, as we must their inconstancy, and to time; which are but

too powerful in destroying instruments which society has employed with

some advantage.

Many cities of Italy had arrived at a certain degree of civilization

before the first crusade; but this civilization, born in the midst

of a barbarous age, and spread amongst some isolated nations divided

among themselves, had no power to attain maturity. For civilization to

produce the salutary effects it is capable of, everything must at the

same time, have a tendency to the same perfection. Knowledge, laws,

morals, power, all must proceed together. This is what has happened in

France;[223] therefore must France one day become the model and centre

of civilization in Europe. The holy wars contributed much to this happy

revolution, which may be seen even in the first crusade.

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