THIRD CRUSADE.
A.D. 1148-1188.
WE cannot help being convinced, whilst reading this history, that the
religion of Mahomet, thoroughly warlike as it is in principle, does
not endue its disciples with that obstinate bravery, that boundless
devotedness, of which the Crusaders presented so many examples. The
fanaticism of the Mussulmans required victory to keep up its power
or its violence. Bred in a conviction of blind fatalism, they were
accustomed to consider successes or reverses as simple decrees of
Heaven; victorious, they were full of ardour and confidence; conquered,
they were depressed, and without shame succumbed to an enemy, whom
they believed to be the instrument of destiny. An ambition for renown
seldom excited their courage, and even in the excesses of their warlike
fervour, the fear of chastisements and punishments kept their faces
towards the enemy more frequently than any generous love of glory. A
chief, whom they themselves dreaded, was the only captain that could
lead them to victory; and thus despotism became necessary to their
valour.
After the conquest of the Christians, the dynasties of the Saracens
and the Turks were dispersed and almost annihilated; the Seljoucides
themselves had fallen back to the very extremities of Persia, and
the people of Syria scarcely knew the names of those princes whose
ancestors had reigned over Asia. Everything, even despotism, was
destroyed in the East. The ambition of the emirs took advantage of the
general disorder: slaves shared the spoils of their masters; provinces
and cities became so many principalities, the uncertain and transient
possession of which was a constant subject of dispute. The necessity
for defending the Mussulman religion, whilst threatened by the
Christians, had alone preserved the credit of the caliphs of Bagdad.
They were still the chiefs of Islamism; their approbation seemed
necessary for the preservation of the power of usurpers or conquerors;
but their authority, which was nothing but a sacred phantom, commanded
nothing but prayers and vain ceremonies, and inspired not the least
fear. In this state of degradation their only employment seemed to
be to consecrate the fruit of treachery and violence. It was not
sufficient to bestow cities and employments which they had no power to
refuse; all whom victory and license had favoured came to prostrate
themselves before the vicars of the prophet; and crowds of emirs,
viziers, and sultans, to borrow an Eastern expression, appeared to rise
from the dust of their feet.
The Christians were not sufficiently aware of the state of Asia, which
they might have conquered; and agreed so ill among themselves that they
could never take advantage of the divisions which prevailed among their
enemies. They seldom had, either in attack or defence, a well-sustained
plan, and their impetuous bravery, directed generally by chance or
passion, could only be compared to the tempest, whose fury rages or
abates at the pleasure of the winds which reign over the horizon.
Fortune, which had offered them such a brilliant opportunity for
extending their empire, became, at last, adverse to them, and from the
bosom of the chaos in which the East was plunged, arose a formidable
power, which was destined to conquer and destroy them.
Noureddin, son of Zengui, who had obtained possession of Edessa before
the second crusade, had inherited the conquests of his father, and
added to them by his valour. He was bred among warriors who had sworn
to shed their blood in the cause of the Prophet, and when he mounted
the throne he revived the austere simplicity of the early caliphs.
Noureddin, says an Arabian poet, united the most noble heroism with
the profoundest humility. When he prayed in the temple, his subjects
believed they saw a sanctuary in another sanctuary. He encouraged the
sciences, cultivated letters, and, above all, applied himself to the
maintenance of justice throughout his states. His people admired his
clemency and moderation; and the Christians even were forced to praise
his courage and his profane heroism. After the example of his father
Zengui, he made himself the idol of his soldiers by his liberality; by
taking charge of their families, he prevented their desire for the
possession of lands, and thus accustomed them to consider the camp
as their home and their country. In the midst of armies which he had
himself formed, and which respected in him the avenger of the Prophet,
he restrained the ambition of the emirs, and directed their efforts
and their zeal towards one sole object, the triumph of Islamism. His
victories, his fortune, his religious and political virtues drew upon
him the attention of the entire East, and made the Mussulmans believe
that the period of their deliverance had arrived.
Baldwin III., who undertook to stop the career of Noureddin, displayed
great valour in several battles. The most important and the most
fortunate of his expeditions was the taking of Ascalon, in which the
Mussulmans always kept up a formidable garrison. This city, which is
situated in a fertile plain, and which the Mussulmans call _the Spouse
of Syria_, was succoured by an Egyptian fleet, and for a long time
resisted all the efforts of the Christians. Rivers of blood flowed
before its walls during several months; both Mussulmans and Christians
fighting with fury, and neither giving nor receiving quarter. During
the siege the knights of the Temple particularly distinguished
themselves by their valour; the thirst for booty, far more than the
love of glory, making them brave the greatest perils. The garrison and
the inhabitants, exhausted by fatigue and pinched by famine, at length
opened the gates of the city. Baldwin granted them a capitulation,
permitted them to retire into Egypt with their families, and caused a
_Te Deum_ to be sung in the great mosque, which he consecrated to St.
Paul.
After this victory the king of Jerusalem marched to encounter
Noureddin, and compelled him to raise the sieges of both Paneas and
Sidon. Baldwin was engaged in assisting the principality of Antioch,
always disturbed by factions, always threatened by the Mussulmans, when
he was poisoned by a Syrian physician. As soon as he became sensible of
his danger, he set out for Jerusalem, and died in the city of Berouth.
His remains were transported to the holy city, the clergy coming out
to meet the funeral train. The people descended from the mountains to
join the procession, and through the country and in the cities nothing
was heard but lamentations. Noureddin himself, if we are to believe
a Christian historian,[294] was affected by the sorrow of the Franks.
Some of his emirs advising him to take advantage of this melancholy
occasion to enter Palestine, “God forbid,” replied he, “that I should
disturb the proper grief of a people who are weeping for the loss of so
good a king, or fix upon such an opportunity to attack a kingdom which
I have no reason to fear.” Remarkable words, which at once denote two
great men, and which further show what a serious loss the Christians
had sustained.
As soon as the funeral ceremonies of Baldwin III. were over, warm
debates arose upon the choice of a successor. The greater part of
the barons and knights attached to the memory of Baldwin proposed to
call to the throne his brother Amaury, count of Jaffa and Ascalon.
This party was the most reasonable and the most conformable to the
laws and interests of the kingdom; but the brother of Baldwin, by
the haughtiness of his deportment, had made himself many enemies
among the people, the clergy, and the army. He was reproached with an
ambition and an avarice fatal to the interests of the Christians; and
he was accused of not being restrained by honour, justice, or even
the precepts of religion,[295] in the execution of his projects. His
partisans extolled his active and enterprising character, his bravery
so often proved, and his great skill in war. Among the nobles of the
kingdom who opposed his succession, and attributed to him ambitious
views much to be dreaded, were several who themselves nourished
aspiring projects, and allowed themselves to be seduced by the hope
of ascending the throne. The conflicting parties were on the point
of taking up arms to sustain their pretensions or their hopes, when
the grand master of the Hospitallers exhorted the barons and knights
to preserve the peace and the laws of the kingdom by crowning young
Amaury. “The crown,” said he to them, “which you refuse to place upon
the head of a Christian prince will soon be upon that of Noureddin or
of the caliph of Egypt. If this misfortune should happen, you will
become the slaves of the infidels, and the world will accuse you
of having opened the gates of the holy city to the Saracens, as the
traitor Judas gave up the Saviour of the world into the hands of his
enemies.” This speech, and the sight of the troops which Amaury had
already collected to defend his rights, disarmed the factions which
disturbed the kingdom. The brother of Baldwin was crowned in the Holy
Sepulchre, and received the oaths of allegiance of those even who had
openly declared themselves opposed to his claims.
As soon as Amaury had ascended the throne, he directed all his energies
towards Egypt, now weakened by the victories of the Christians. The
caliph of Cairo having refused to pay the tribute due to the conquerors
of Ascalon, the new king of Jerusalem placed himself at the head of his
army, traversed the desert, carried the terror of his arms to the banks
of the Nile, and only returned to his kingdom when he had forced the
Egyptians to purchase peace. The state in which Egypt was then placed
was likely soon to recall the Christians thither; and happy would it
have been for them if they had known how to profit by their advantages;
and if their fruitless attempts had not served to favour the progress
of a rival power.
Egypt was at that time the theatre of a civil war, occasioned by the
ambition of two leaders who disputed the empire of it. For a length
of time the caliphs of Cairo, like those of Bagdad, shut up in their
seraglio, had borne no resemblance to the warrior from whom they
derived their origin, who had said, whilst pointing to his soldiers and
his sword, “_These are my family and my race_.” Enervated by effeminacy
and pleasures, they had abandoned the government to their slaves, who
adored them on their knees, and imposed laws upon them. They no longer
exercised any real authority but in the mosques, and only preserved the
disgraceful privilege of confirming the usurped power of the viziers,
who corrupted the armies, disturbed the provinces, and in the field of
battle quarrelled with each other for the right of reigning over both
people and prince.
Each of the viziers, to secure the triumph of his cause, called in by
turns the arms of the neighbouring powers. On the arrival of these
dangerous auxiliaries, all was in confusion on the banks of the Nile.
Blood flowed in all the provinces, sometimes shed by the executioners,
sometimes by the soldiers; Egypt was at once desolated by its enemies,
its allies, and its inhabitants.
Chaver, who, amidst these revolutions, had raised himself from the
humble condition of a slave to the post of vizier, had been conquered
and displaced by Dargan, one of the principal officers of the Egyptian
militia. Obliged to fly and abandon Egypt, where his rival reigned,
he went to seek an asylum at Damascus, imploring the assistance of
Noureddin, and promising a considerable tribute if that prince would
furnish him with troops to protect his return into Egypt. The sultan of
Damascus yielded to the prayers of Chaver. To command the army which
he resolved to send into Egypt, he selected Chirkou, the most skilful
of his emirs, who having always shown himself cruel and implacable
in his military expeditions, was likely to be without pity for the
vanquished, and to take all advantage of the miseries of a civil war,
for the benefit of his master. The vizier Dargan was not long in being
warned of the projects of Chaver and the preparations of Noureddin. To
resist the storm about to burst upon him, he implored the aid of the
Christians of Palestine, and promised to give up his treasures to them
if they succeeded in preserving his power.
Whilst the king of Jerusalem, seduced by this promise, was collecting
an army, Chaver, accompanied by the troops of Noureddin, crossed the
desert, and approached the banks of the Nile. Dargan, who came out to
meet him with the Egyptian army, was conquered by the Syrians, and lost
his life in the battle. The city of Cairo soon opened its gates to the
conqueror. Chaver,[296] whom the victory had delivered from his enemy,
shed torrents of blood in the capital to insure his triumph, received
amid the general consternation the congratulations of the caliph, and
resumed the reins of government.
It was not long, however, before divisions arose between the general
of Noureddin, who daily placed a more excessive price on his services,
and the vizier, whom Chirkou accused of perfidy and ingratitude. Chaver
desired in vain to send the Mussulmans back into Syria; they replied to
him only by threats, and he was on the point of being besieged in Cairo
by his own deliverers. All the Egyptians, particularly the people of
the capital, were seized with trouble and consternation.
In the midst of so pressing a danger, the vizier Chaver placed his
only hope in the Christian warriors, whose approach he had not long
since so much dreaded. He made the king of Jerusalem the same promises
that he had offered to Noureddin; and Amaury, who only wanted to enter
Egypt, whatever might be the party that prevailed there, set out upon
his march to defend Chaver with the very same army he had collected to
fight against him. When arrived on the banks of the Nile, he united his
troops with those of the vizier, and they sat down before the city of
Bilbeis, into which Chirkou had retired. Noureddin’s general resisted
during three months all the attacks of the Christians and Egyptians;
and when the king of Jerusalem proposed peace to him, he demanded
payment of the expenses of the war. After some negotiations, in which
he displayed great haughtiness, he marched out of Bilbeis still
threatening the Christians, and led back his army to Damascus, loaded
with the spoils of his enemies.
Chirkou had beheld the riches of Egypt, and become acquainted with the
weakness of its government; the first advice he offered to Noureddin,
after his arrival, therefore, was to endeavour to unite this rich
country to his own empire. The sultan of Syria sent ambassadors to
the caliph of Bagdad, not to ask aid of him, but to give a religious
colour to his enterprise. During several centuries, the caliphs of
Bagdad and Cairo had been divided by an implacable hatred; each of them
boasting of being the vicar of the Prophet, and considering his rival
as the enemy of God. In the mosques of Bagdad, they cursed the caliphs
of Egypt and their sectarians; in those of Cairo, they devoted to the
infernal powers, the Abassides and their partisans.
The caliph of Bagdad did not hesitate to comply with the wishes of
Noureddin. Whilst the sultan of Syria was solely occupied by his
endeavours to extend his empire, the vicar of the Prophet was only
ambitious to preside alone over the Mussulman religion. He commanded
the Imans to preach a war against the Fatimites, and promised the
delights of Paradise to all who should take up arms in the holy
expedition. At the call of the caliph, a great number of faithful
Mussulmans flocked to the standard of Noureddin, and Chirkou, by the
order of the sultan, prepared to return into Egypt, at the head of a
powerful army.
The fame of these preparations spread throughout the East, particularly
in Egypt, where it created the most serious alarms. Amaury, who
had returned to his own states, received ambassadors from Chaver,
soliciting his help and alliance against the enterprise of Noureddin.
The states of the kingdom of Jerusalem were assembled at Naplouse, and
the king there exposed to them the advantages of another expedition
into Egypt. An impost was levied to carry on a war from which the
greatest hopes were entertained, and the Christian army soon set out
from Gaza to fight with the troops of Noureddin on the banks of the
Nile.
In the mean time Chirkou was crossing the desert, where he encountered
the greatest dangers. A violent tempest surprised him on his march; all
at once the heavens were darkened, and the earth, which was strewed
with the prostrate Syrians, became like a stormy sea. Immense waves of
sand were lifted by the winds, and rising into whirlwinds or forming
moving mountains, scattered, bore away, or swallowed up men and horses.
In this tempest the Syrian army abandoned its baggage and lost its
provisions and arms, and when Chirkou arrived on the banks of the Nile,
he had no means of defence left except the remembrance of his former
victories. He took great care to conceal the losses he had experienced,
and the wreck of an army dispersed by a fearful tempest proved
sufficient to throw all the cities of Egypt into consternation.
The vizier Chaver, frightened at the approach of the Syrians, sent
ambassadors to the Christians, to promise them immense riches, and
press them to hasten their march. On his side, the king of Jerusalem
deputed to the caliph of Egypt, Hugh of Cæsarea, and Foulcher, a knight
of the Temple, to obtain the ratification of the treaty of alliance
with the Egyptians. Amaury’s deputies were introduced into a palace
in which no Christian had ever before been admitted. After having
traversed several corridors filled with Moorish guards, and a vast
number of apartments and courts in which glittered all the splendour
of the East, they arrived in a hall, or rather a sanctuary, where the
caliph awaited them, seated on a throne shining with gold and precious
stones. Chaver, who conducted them, prostrated himself at the feet
of his master, and supplicated him to accept the treaty of alliance
with the king of Jerusalem. The prayer of the vizier was an imperious
order, and the commander of the faithful, always docile to the will of
the lowest of his slaves, made a sign of approbation, and stretched
his uncovered hand out to the Christian deputies in presence of the
officers of his court, whom so strange a spectacle filled with grief
and surprise.
The army of the Franks was close to Cairo; but as the policy of Amaury
was to lengthen the war, in order to prolong his stay in Egypt, he
neglected opportunities of attacking the Syrians with advantage, and
gave them time to recruit their strength. After having left them a long
time in repose, he gave them battle in the isle of Maalle, and forced
their intrenchments, but did not follow up his victory. Chirkou, in
his retreat, endeavoured to reanimate the depressed courage of the
soldiers of Noureddin, the latter not having yet forgotten the evils
they had encountered in the passage over the desert. This calamity,
still recent, together with the first victory of the Christians,
destroyed the confidence they had in their arms and the protection of
the Prophet. One of the lieutenants of Chirkou, upon witnessing their
gloomy rage, cried out in the midst of the Mussulman army: “You who
fear death or slavery, return into Syria; go and tell Noureddin that to
repay him for the benefits with which he has loaded you, you abandon
Egypt to the infidels, in order to shut yourselves up in your seraglios
with women and children.”
These words reanimated the zeal and fanaticism of the Syrian warriors.
The Franks and the Egyptians who pursued the army of Chirkou, were
conquered in a battle, and forced to abandon in disorder the hills
of Baben,[297] where they had pitched their tents. The general of
Noureddin took all possible advantage of his victory; he passed as a
conqueror along the fertile banks of the Nile; penetrated, without
encountering an obstacle, into lower Egypt; placed a garrison in
Alexandria; and returned to lay siege to the city of Koutz, the capital
of the Thebais. The ability with which Chirkou had disciplined his
army, and planned the last battle he had fought with his enemies; his
marches and his counter-marches in the plains and valleys of Egypt,
from the tropic to the sea, announced the progress of the Mussulmans
in military tactics, and warned the Christians beforehand of the enemy
that was destined to put an end to their victories and conquests.
The Turks defended themselves during several months in Alexandria,
against the seditions of the inhabitants and the numerous assaults of
the Christians. They at length obtained an honourable capitulation, and
as their army was becoming weaker every day by famine and fatigue, they
retired a second time to Damascus, after exacting very dear payment for
the transient tranquillity in which they left the people of Egypt.
After the retreat of the Syrians, the vizier Chaver hastened to send
back the Christians, whose presence made him very uneasy. He engaged
to pay the king of Jerusalem an annual tribute of a hundred thousand
crowns in gold, and consented to receive a garrison in Cairo. He loaded
the barons and knights with rich presents, and the soldiers even had
a share in his bounties, proportionate to the fear the Franks inspired
him with. The Christian warriors returned to Jerusalem, bearing with
them riches which dazzled both people and nobles, and inspired them
with other thoughts than that of defending the heritage of Christ.
As Amaury returned to his capital, the sight of his mountainous and
sterile provinces, the poverty of his subjects, and the narrow limits
of his kingdom, made him deeply regret having missed the opportunity of
conquering a great empire. Soon after his return he married a niece of
the emperor Manuel; but whilst the people and his court gave themselves
up to joy, and put up vows for the prosperity of his family and his
kingdom, one single thought occupied him night and day, and haunted
him even amongst the most sumptuous and brilliant festivities. The
riches of the caliph of Cairo, the populousness and fertility of Egypt,
its numerous fleets, and the commodiousness of its ports, presented
themselves constantly to the mind of Amaury. His first endeavour was to
make the marriage he had just contracted subservient to his projects,
and he sent ambassadors to Constantinople, with instructions to induce
Manuel to assist him in the conquest of Egypt. Manuel approved of
the plans of the king of Jerusalem, and promised to send him fleets
and share with him the glory and perils of a conquest which must so
deeply interest the Christian world. Then Amaury hesitated no longer
to declare his designs, and called together the barons and principal
people of his kingdom. In this assembly, in which it was proposed
to invade Egypt, the wisest among whom was the grand master of the
Templars, declared loudly and decidedly that the undertaking was
unjust. “The Christians,” said they, “ought not to set the Mussulmans
the example of violating treaties. It perhaps would not be a difficult
matter to obtain possession of Egypt, but it would not be so easy to
keep it as to conquer it. Noureddin was the most formidable enemy
of the Christians; it was against him they should bring all the
united forces of the kingdom to bear. Egypt must belong to the power
that should remain ruler of Syria, and it was not prudent or wise
to endeavour to anticipate the favours of fortune, and send armies
into a country of which they should only open the gates to the son
of Zengui, as they had done in the instance of Damascus. They would
sacrifice Christian cities, Jerusalem itself, to the hope of conquering
a kingdom. Noureddin had already taken advantage of the king of
Jerusalem’s being engaged on the banks of the Nile, to get possession
of several places which belonged to the Christians. Bohemond prince of
Antioch, and Raymond count of Tripoli, had been made prisoners of war,
and groaned in the chains of the Mussulmans, as victims of an ambition
which had seduced the king of Jerusalem far from his kingdom and the
Christian colonies of which he ought to be the support and defender.”
The knights and barons who expressed themselves thus, added that the
sight alone of Egypt would not fail to corrupt the Christian warriors,
and enervate the courage and subdue the patriotism of the inhabitants
and defenders of Palestine. These opinions, however prudent and just,
had no effect upon the king of Jerusalem and the partisans of the war,
among whom was conspicuous the grand master of the Hospitallers, who
had exhausted the riches of his order by extravagant expenses, and had
raised troops for whose pay he had assigned the treasures of Egypt.
The greater part of the lords and knights, to whom fortune seemed to
be waiting on the banks of the Nile in order to bestow upon them her
favours, suffered themselves to be easily persuaded to the war, and
found it very convenient to consider as an enemy the sovereign of a
country which held out so rich a booty to them.
Whilst these preparations for the conquest of Egypt were in agitation
in Jerusalem, the same projects occupied the emirs and the council
of Noureddin. On his return from the banks of the Nile, Chirkou had
announced to the sultan of Damascus, “that the government of Cairo
wanted both officers and soldiers; and that revolutions, the cupidity
of the Franks, and the presence of the Syrians, had weakened and
ruined the empire of the Fatimites. The Egyptian people,” added he,
“accustomed to change masters, were neither attached to the caliph,
whom they did not know, nor to the vizier, who brought upon them all
sorts of calamities. They were ready to submit to the domination of a
prince who should be powerful enough to protect them against both their
enemies and the scourge of civil wars. The Christians were likewise
aware how feeble this empire was, and it was to be dreaded that
they would be the first. Such a favourable opportunity should not be
neglected, or a conquest despised which fortune appeared to offer to
the first power that should make its appearance in Egypt.”
Thus the king of Jerusalem and the sultan of Damascus entertained
the same views, and both made preparations for the same conquest. In
the churches of the Christians, as in the mosques of the Mussulmans,
prayers were put up for the success of a war about to be carried on
on the banks of the Nile. As each of the two parties sought to give
the best colour to their projects and proceedings, at Damascus it
was asserted that the caliph of Egypt had made an impious alliance
with the disciples of Christ, whilst at Jerusalem it was asserted
that the vizier Chaver, in defiance of treaties, kept up a perfidious
correspondence with Noureddin.
The Christians were the first to violate their treaties. Amaury set
out at the head of a numerous army, and appeared in the character of
an enemy before Belbeis, which place he had promised to the knights
of St. John, as a reward for the ardour and zeal they had shown for
his expedition. This city, situated on the right bank of the Nile, was
besieged, taken by assault, and after being pillaged, consigned to the
flames.
The misfortunes of Belbeis spread consternation throughout Egypt, and
the people, irritated at the account of the cruelties practised by the
Franks, took up arms and drove the Christian garrison out of Cairo.
Chaver assembled troops in the provinces, fortified the capital, and
set fire to the ancient city of Fostat, which burnt for more than six
weeks. The caliph of Cairo again implored the assistance of Noureddin,
and to excite his pity and prove his distress, he sent him in a letter
the hair of the women of his seraglio. The sultan of Damascus attended
with joy to the prayers of the caliph of Egypt, and as an army was
ready to march, he gave orders to Chirkou to cross the desert and
hasten to the banks of the Nile.
Whilst the Syrians were coming to the aid of Egypt, threatened by
the Christians, Chaver employed every means in his power to stop
the king of Jerusalem in his march, and suspend in his hands the
thunderbolt ready to fall upon Egypt. Ambassadors were sent to
implore the pity of Amaury, and to give some weight to their prayers,
offered him two millions of crowns of gold. The offer of so enormous
a sum, which Egypt, for so long a time devastated, could not possibly
have furnished, seduced the king of the Christians, who was as much
influenced by a love of gold as an ambition for conquests. He allowed
himself to be thus deceived by the Mussulmans, to whom he himself had
been wanting in faith; and whilst he was waiting for the treasures they
had promised him, the Egyptians restored the fortifications of their
cities, and assembled everywhere in arms. The Christians looked in
vain for the fleets promised by Manuel, and soon, instead of welcoming
auxiliaries, they learnt that Chirkou had arrived for the third time in
Egypt at the head of a formidable army. Then Amaury opened his eyes,
and set about repairing his error. He flew to meet the Syrians, and
offer them battle; but their general avoided the encounter, and united
his forces with those of the Egyptians. The evil was irreparable; the
king of Jerusalem could not resist the two united armies, and ashamed
of being deceived by those whom he had himself sought to deceive, he
returned to his kingdom, and was pursued to the verge of the desert by
the troops of Noureddin.
Before the enterprise, hopes of success had dazzled the minds of all;
but when it had failed, they, as generally, perceived the injustice of
it. The Christians all became aware of the evils with which Jerusalem
was menaced, and reproached Amaury with not being able to preserve
peace, or knowing how to make war. In the mean time Noureddin’s general
entered the capital of Egypt in triumph.
Chirkou hoisted his standard on the towers of Cairo, and Egypt, which
thought it had received a liberator into its bosom, soon found that he
was a master. Chaver paid with his life the evils he had inflicted upon
his country; he was killed in the camp of Chirkou, and his authority
became the reward of the conqueror. The caliph, who, in order to save
himself, had demanded the head of his first minister appointed the
general of Noureddin as his successor, styling him in his letters, _the
victorious prince_. It was thus that the degraded monarch of Egypt
jested with his own favours by flattering a man he did not know,
and for whose death he was, most likely, desirous; an image of blind
fortune, who scatters at hazard good and evil, and views her favourites
and her victims with equal indifference.
Some time after, the caliph of Cairo, always invisible in his palace,
was deposed by the orders of Noureddin, and died peaceably without
knowing that he had lost his empire. His treasures served to appease
the murmurs of the people and the soldiery; the black flag of the
Abassides displaced the green standard of the children of Ali, and the
name of the caliph of Bagdad was heard of only in the mosques. The
dynasty of the Fatimites, which reigned more than two centuries, and
for which so much blood had been shed, was extinguished in a single
day, and found not even one defender. From that time the Mussulmans had
only one religion and one cause to defend; Egypt and Syria obeyed the
same chief, and the richest provinces of the East were united under the
powerful hand of Noureddin.
The sultan of Aleppo and Damascus had spread the terror of his arms
from the banks of the Euphrates and the Tigris to the sources of the
Nile; he had everywhere governors and armies; and posts of pigeons,
which he had established, carried at the same time his orders into
the principal cities of Egypt, Syria, and Mesopotamia. The justice of
his laws and his victories over the Christians had created for him
such a reputation for sanctity among the Mussulmans, that a shower of
rain which fell in the midst of a drought, was considered by them as a
miracle granted to his prayers. During the war of Egypt he had taken
several fortresses belonging to the Franks; and the destruction of the
Christian colonies was still the aim of all his labours and all his
exploits. Full of confidence in the protection of Mahomet, the devout
Noureddin employed his leisure in constructing, with his own hands,
a pulpit, which he meant himself to place in the principal mosque of
Jerusalem.
The sultan of Damascus was preparing to commence what the Mussulmans
called a sacred war, and for the success of which public prayers had
been offered up, but this glory was reserved for a young warrior
brought up in armies, whose name was yet unknown in the East.
Saladin,[298] this young warrior, was sprung from the people who
inhabit the mountains situated beyond the Tigris. His father Ayoub, and
his uncle Chirkou, after the example of the warriors of their nation,
who fight for pay under Mussulman powers, had left Curdistan to serve
in the troops of the sultan of Bagdad. They had both attained high
military employments; but Chirkou, a violent and brutal man, having run
through the body with his sword an officer of justice, the two brothers
were obliged to take to flight, and came to offer their services to
the Attabeks of Syria, whom they assisted in their wars against the
Christians. The young Saladin, although he was brought up at the court
of Damascus, under the eye of an ambitious father, did not at first
appear to be eager for either fortune or glory. In his youth he was
fond of dissipation and pleasures, and remained a long time a stranger
to the cares of politics or the dangers and labours of war. Having
followed his uncle Chirkou in his first expeditions to Egypt, he had
distinguished himself by the defence of Alexandria; but he suffered so
much, that when Noureddin commanded him to return to the banks of the
Nile, he sought pretexts to avoid obedience. When the sultan repeated
his orders, Saladin set out, as he himself said afterwards, with the
despair of a man who is led to death. “Thus it is,” says the historian
Hamad Eddin, who was for a long time his secretary, “that men know not
what they refuse or what they desire; but God, who knows all things,
sports with their designs, which always terminate according to the
views of Providence.”
At the death of Chirkou, the caliph of Egypt, who trembled for his
power, named Saladin to the post of vizier, because he thought him the
least capable, by his talents or reputation, of usurping the supreme
authority. The son of Ayoub deceived both the king and the army, who
saw in him nothing but a young dissipated soldier, without ambition.
But he changed his conduct and reformed his manners; hitherto he had
appeared fit only for the idleness and the obscurity of a seraglio;
but, all at once, he came forth a new man, like one born for empire.
His gravity inspired the respect of the emirs; his liberality secured
him the suffrages of the army; and the austerity of his devotion
rendered him dear to all true believers. A religious revolution which
he brought about without trouble or the effusion of blood, made known
his prudence and humanity, and showed that fortune destined him for
extraordinary things. The caliph of Bagdad felicitated him publicly
with having annihilated the sect of the Fatimites, and made him a
present of a vest of honour. His name was celebrated by the poets, and
mixed with those of Mahomet and Noureddin in the public prayers.
Saladin, master of Egypt, sent for his father Ayoub, and wished to
associate him with himself in the government. When Ayoub arrived at
Cairo with all his family, he was compared to Jacob, and Saladin to
the patriarch Joseph, whose name he bore. Aided by the counsels of his
father, Saladin stifled all plots devised against him, and restrained
the ambition and jealousy of the emirs.
In a council in which his son had spoken too openly of his projects,
Ayoub, brought up among the intrigues of the courts of Asia, exclaimed
with vehemence against all traitors, and swore he would cut off the
head of even Saladin himself, if he received orders from the sultan of
Damascus to do so. When left alone with his son, he reproached him with
his indiscretion and imprudence. “I have spoken against you,” added he,
“before your rivals and enemies; but know that if Noureddin should come
to attack you, I would be the first to take arms; if he required only
the tribute of a sugar-cane from us, he should not obtain it of me.”
According to the advice of Ayoub, Saladin spoke only of his perfect
submission to the commands of his master, and took honour to himself as
being the lowest of the slaves of Noureddin, to whom he sent deputies
and presents; but he could not destroy all his suspicions. Noureddin
had determined upon going into Egypt himself, when death surprised
him, and delivered Saladin from the uneasiness which a jealous and
vindictive master naturally inspired.
At the death of Noureddin, the empire founded by the Attabeks declined
towards its ruin. The sultan of the Attabeks only left a child to
succeed him, the emirs already began to quarrel for the divisions
of his power, and Syria was about to return to the chaos into which
the fall of the Seljoucides had plunged it. The Mussulman nations,
terrified at the evils before them, eagerly sought the yoke of Saladin,
and recognised with joy for their master a warrior who was the only
person capable of defending their religion or their dominions. Saladin
inherited not only the power of Noureddin, but was anxious to follow up
the projects of his predecessor, and nothing pleased his ambition more
than the idea of pursuing the war against the Christians.
Amaury, instead of taking advantage of the troubles of Syria, was
desirous of resuming his projects against Egypt; and requesting the
aid of the emperor of Constantinople, the latter sent him a fleet and
some troops. The Christians laid siege to Damietta; but the eternal
divisions between the Greeks and Latins prevented the success of the
enterprise. Amaury, entertaining still the hope of succeeding in his
designs, sent ambassadors into Europe, thinking that the prospect
of the conquest of Egypt would arm the knights of the West. As the
deputies of Amaury returned without obtaining aid, he himself repaired
to Constantinople to solicit fresh succours. He was received with
magnificence; and great promises were made him; but he died without
seeing them realized. Thus King Amaury, during the whole of his reign,
had but one single thought, for which he exhausted all the resources
of his kingdom. The obstinacy which he evinced for the execution of
an unfortunate project, advanced the progress of the Mussulmans, and
must have recalled to the Christians of the West the words which the
prophets repeated to the Hebrews, “_Children of Israel, direct neither
your looks nor your steps towards Egypt_.”
Amaury, at his death, left a distressed kingdom, and as the governor of
its states a son, thirteen years of age, sick and covered with leprosy.
Raymond, count of Tripoli, and Milo de Plansy, lord of Carac and
Montroyal, disputed the regency during the minority of young Baldwin.
Milo, by his intrigues, obtained the suffrages of the barons, but was
found, a short time after, pierced with several wounds inflicted by a
sword, in one of the streets of Ptolemaïs: Raymond succeeded his rival,
with whose death all Palestine accused him.
The father of the count of Tripoli had been killed by the Ismaëlians,
and he himself had remained eight years in the chains of the infidels.
The fourth in descent from the famous count de St. Gilles, he possessed
the bravery, the activity, and the ambition of the hero from whom he
drew his origin; but with them, that obstinacy of character, which,
in difficult times, irritates the passions and provokes implacable
hatreds. More impatient to reign over the Christians than to conquer
the infidels, Raymond considered the right of commanding men as the
only reward of the evils he had suffered; he demanded with haughtiness
the recompense of his services and his long toils, and conceived that
justice would triumph, and the safety of the kingdom be preserved,
solely by his elevation.
If, amidst the disorders which continually agitated the Christian
states, the new regent had had sufficient authority to direct the
policy of the Franks, and make peace or war at his will, history might
justly accuse him of having favoured the power of Saladin, and of
having prepared the downfall of the kingdom of Jerusalem. After the
death of Noureddin, the son of Ayoub had had to contend with the family
of his old master, the emirs faithful to the dynasty of the Attabeks,
and all who wished to profit by the troubles of Syria, and erect
independent states for themselves. Prudence commanded the Christians
to foment the discord which prevailed among the Saracens, and to ally
themselves with every party which was opposed to Saladin. Instead of
following this wholesome policy, and stirring up war in Syria, they
determined upon renewing Amaury’s unfortunate attempts upon Egypt. A
Sicilian fleet having arrived in Palestine, aided by the Sicilians,
the Christians laid siege to Alexandria, where all sorts of miseries
combined to destroy their army. Frequently-repeated reverses conveyed
no instruction to the Franks of the proper manner to make war with
Saladin. As they were returning from their imprudent and unfortunate
expedition, the Mussulman governor of the city of Emessa, then besieged
by the new sultan of Damascus, solicited their alliance and support.
The Christian warriors, after having placed a price upon their services
which it was impossible the governor could pay, entered upon a campaign
without an object, threatening those they pretended to defend, and
ravaging at the same time the territories of their allies and their
enemies. Nevertheless, their presence in Syria, and their transient
alliance with the Mussulman princes, alarmed Saladin, who was making
war against the son of Noureddin, shut up in the city of Aleppo. The
sultan, resolving to keep them at a distance from the theatre of his
conquests, made their leaders brilliant promises and rich presents,
and soon succeeded in obtaining a truce, of which he took advantage to
strengthen his power and extend the limits of his empire.
The Franks returned to Jerusalem, satisfied with having compelled
Saladin to ask for peace. After having imprudently consented to
a truce, they committed a second fault, which was to violate the
treaty they had just signed, and that not to undertake an important
enterprise, but to make an incursion into the territories of Damascus.
They ravaged the country, and pillaged the towns and villages that they
found without defence, whilst Saladin continued making useful conquests
in Syria, and rendering himself sufficiently powerful to punish them
for the infraction of their engagements.
The sultan of Cairo and Damascus soon assembled a formidable army and
advanced towards Palestine. The whole country was in flames through
which the Saracens passed; at their approach the Christians abandoned
the cities and towns to take refuge in mountains and caverns. Baldwin
IV., who had recently assumed the reins of government, placed himself
at the head of the Franks; but fearing to measure himself with
Saladin, he shut himself up in Ascalon, whence he contemplated with
consternation his desolated provinces.
Everything appeared to presage the approaching fall of the kingdom,
and Saladin was already distributing its cities among his emirs,
when Providence, which at length took pity on the situation of
the Christians, offered them an opportunity of repairing their
misfortunes. The menaces of Saladin and the sight of the ravages he was
committing exasperated the Christian soldiers. Baldwin led forth his
army from Ascalon, and surprised the Mussulmans in the very same plains
whereon Godfrey and the leaders of the first crusade gained their
celebrated victory over the Egyptians. Saladin could not resist the
impetuosity of their attack, and lost the battle after having defended
himself valiantly in the midst of his Mamelukes, a new military force,
which he had himself formed, and by which he was always surrounded in
time of danger. Saladin saw all his army perish in this disastrous
battle, which was never effaced from his memory, and which, as he said
in a letter, “made the star of the family of Ayoub to pale.” Mounted
on a camel, and followed by a few officers, Saladin experienced the
greatest dangers in his flight across the desert, and returned almost
alone to Egypt, whence he had so recently set out at the head of a
formidable army.
And yet the Christians did not reap much advantage from their victory;
they laid siege in vain to the cities of Hemessa and Harem, whilst
Saladin soon got together fresh troops in Egypt, and returned to
threaten the kingdom of Jerusalem. The victory of Ascalon elated the
Christians, and made them rash; Saladin, on the contrary, rendered
more cautious by defeat, took advantage of every false step of his
enemies, planned ambuscades, employed all the stratagems of war, and
several times surprised and beat them on the banks of the Jordan, and
in the vicinity of Paneas. Baldwin, who was very near falling into
the hands of the Saracens, collected all the forces that were left in
his dominions; but he could obtain no advantage over Saladin, and was
obliged to sue for peace, which the state of his kingdom and his own
infirmities rendered every day more necessary.
The leprosy by which he was attacked made alarming progress; he lost
his sight, and was no longer able to undertake the cares of government.
As he mistrusted most of the barons and leading men of his kingdom, he
offered the government to Philip, count of Flanders, who was come into
Asia to combat the infidels; but Philip preferred making war upon the
Mussulmans to governing the Christians of Palestine.
The count of Tripoli was pointed out by the opinion of both the people
and the nobles, as the only person capable of governing; but the
suffrages of the people only augmented the suspicions of Baldwin, who
had long dreaded the ambition of Raymond. Obliged to abandon a throne,
the weak monarch trembled at the idea of placing on it a man who might
soon make him forgotten; and he chose in preference a knight without
name or glory, whose only title arose from his having espoused Sibylla,
daughter of King Amaury, and widow of the marquis of Montferrat,
surnamed Long Sword. Guy of Lusignan did not justify the choice of
Baldwin by his conduct, and disgusted every one by the excess of his
pride. In this state of things, the interests of the Christian colonies
required that the truce made with the Mussulmans should be strictly
observed; but such was then the destiny of the kingdom of Jerusalem,
that nobody had sufficient power or ascendancy to maintain peace,
whilst the meanest of the barons or knights could, at his will, provoke
war. The rashness and imprudence of one man again brought down upon
Palestine the whole force of Saladin.
Old chronicles have related the romantic adventures and extraordinary
fortune of Renaud de Chatillon. Born at Chatillon-sur-Indre, of
obscure parents, he followed the army of Louis the Young into Asia,
and enrolled himself in the troops of Raymond of Poictiers, prince of
Antioch. Raymond having lost his life in battle, his widow Constance
was solicited to select a new husband, who might be associated with her
in the government. This princess passed by the most illustrious nobles
and knights, for she had remarked the personal beauty and chivalric
bravery of Renaud de Chatillon, and would accept of no other husband.
By this marriage, which, according to William of Tyre, filled the
Christian barons with surprise, she all at once raised a young obscure
man to the throne of Antioch.
Although Renaud de Chatillon had obtained the love of Constance, he
could not conciliate the confidence and esteem of his new subjects. A
formidable party was formed against him, at the head of which was the
patriarch Amaury. Renaud, full of vexation and anger, cast into prison
all who were opposed to him. By his orders the patriarch was led to
the top of one of the towers of the citadel, and, with his bare head
rubbed with honey, left, in the heat of summer, during a whole day
exposed to flies and insects.[299] Renaud de Chatillon, after having
filled the city of Ascalon with terror and mourning, was desirous of
signalizing his reign by some warlike enterprise. Become the leader of
an army in which he had been a soldier, he began by making war against
the emperor of Constantinople, and armed several vessels, with which he
ravaged the isle of Cyprus. The Greek emperor hastened to avenge the
insult, and was soon with an army encamped within sight of Ascalon.
Renaud not being master of a sufficient force with which to defend
himself, had recourse to baseness to disarm the anger of his enemy, and
came, with a cord round his neck, and torn vestments, to lay his sword
at the feet of the emperor, who granted him peace. When the Greeks had
resumed their way to Constantinople, Renaud turned his arms against
the Saracens. He at once put to flight the army of Noureddin, who had
advanced towards the territory of Antioch; but, led away by thirst for
booty, he fell into an ambuscade, was made prisoner and conducted to
Aleppo, where the Mussulmans detained him many years. At last some of
his ancient companions succeeded in breaking his chains, and what is
not unworthy of remark, the produce of the booty made in an incursion
on the territories of Damascus was the price of his liberty.
When Renaud de Chatillon issued from his captivity, his wife Constance
was no longer living, and the son of Raymond, arrived at the age of
maturity, governed the principality of Antioch. Renaud repaired to
Jerusalem, where the remembrance of his exploits and misfortunes,
suffered in the cause of the Christians, secured him a welcome from
the king and the barons. Having, in a second marriage, espoused the
widow of Homfrey de Thourou, he became lord of Carac, and some castles
situated on the confines of Arabia and Palestine. Renaud led into these
cities and fortresses a great number of Templars, whom he associated
with his fortunes. He had just established himself there, and had
already begun to ravage the frontiers of Arabia, when the truce was
concluded with Saladin. Nothing could induce Renaud de Chatillon to
lay down his arms; every day he made fresh forays in the neighbourhood
of Carac, and plundered the caravans of the Mussulman pilgrims on
their way to Mecca. Heedless of the rights of nations or humanity, he
imprisoned women and children, and massacred unarmed men.
Saladin complained to Baldwin of these infractions of treaties; but
it was not in the power of the king of Jerusalem to give him the
satisfaction he demanded. The sultan, irritated by the conduct of
the Franks, seized fifteen hundred pilgrims, who were cast upon the
shores of Egypt by a tempest, and threatened to detain them unless the
Mussulman prisoners were promptly set at liberty. Neither the demands
of Saladin, nor the prayers of Baldwin, nor even the fate of the
Christian captives, had the least effect upon Renaud de Chatillon and
the Templars, so long accustomed to sport with all treaties made with
the Mussulmans.
Thereupon Saladin again determined upon war, and set out a third time
from the banks of the Nile, to enter Palestine at the head of an army.
At the approach of danger, the Christians united their efforts to stop
the progress of the Saracens. An assembly, formed of all classes of
citizens, ordered a general contribution to be levied, the produce
of which was employed in repairing the fortifications of the castles
and cities, whilst all the barons and knights flew to arms. But the
time was not yet come in which Saladin should invade the kingdom of
Jerusalem. In each of his expeditions he appeared to try the strength
of the Christians, and when he met with strong resistance, waited
patiently for a more favourable moment. After having ravaged Galilee by
his lieutenants, and commenced the siege of Berouth, he suddenly drew
off his forces to go and make war upon the Attabeks, who were masters
of Mossoul and several cities of Mesopotamia.
The Christians took no other advantage of his absence but to renew
their incursions upon the territory of Damascus. Renaud de Chatillon
made several expeditions to the shores of the Red Sea, and even
conceived the daring project of going to the cities of Mecca and
Medina, and plundering the Kaaba and the tomb of the Prophet. A troop
of intrepid warriors set forward on their march under his orders;
they surprised the Egyptian merchants who were bearing back the
treasures of India, by way of the Red Sea; and, preceded by terror,
advanced in triumph, into a country which had never before seen the
Christians. Renaud and his companions had already reached the valley
of Rabid, situated ten leagues from Medina, when they were surprised
and attacked by a Mussulman army, which had been hastily despatched
from Syria. After an obstinate and sanguinary combat, victory favoured
the Saracens. Renaud escaped the pursuit of the conquerors as if by a
miracle, and returned with a small number of his troops to the castle
of Carac. Some of the prisoners were led into Egypt, where the sentence
of the cadis condemned them to the death of the lowest criminals.
Others were conveyed to Mecca, where their blood was shed with that of
the victims immolated at the ceremony of the great Bayram.[300]
These horrible executions did not satisfy the vengeance of Saladin.
When he heard of the expedition of the Christians, which he considered
a frightful sacrilege, his anger knew no bounds, and he swore upon
the Koran to revenge the insult offered to the Mussulman religion.
The sultan, whom the Christians already styled the _scourge of God_,
re-entered Galilee with sword and flame, and advanced towards the
castle of Carac, constantly repeating the oath he had taken of slaying
Renaud with his own hand. The Mussulmans would have rendered themselves
masters of the castle, but for the bravery of one knight, who alone
maintained the drawbridge, and by a glorious death deprived Saladin
of this conquest. A Christian army was soon upon the march to repel
this attack of the Saracens. Saladin, despairing for the present of
wreaking his revenge upon Renaud, laid waste the lands on the banks of
the Jordan, in the very face of the Christian army, which did not dare
to attack him. After having several times renewed his attempts upon the
fortress of Carac, and given up to the flames Naplouse, Sebosto, and
several other cities, he at length consented to a truce, and led back
his army into Mesopotamia.
Saladin availed himself of the peace made with the Christians, to
dissipate the troubles which had arisen in his states, and to pursue
his conquests in Syria. At each truce he got possession of a city or a
province; he extended his dominions, and thus placed under his control
countries which became so many the more enemies for the Christians.
The Franks, on the contrary, when war was suspended, gave themselves
madly up to their internal divisions; peace with them gave birth to
a thousand new factions, and the kingdom then found in its own bosom
enemies much more dangerous than those against whom they had been at
war.
The knights and barons, on their return to Jerusalem, accused Guy de
Lusignan of having neglected the opportunity for conquering Saladin,
and reproached him with having permitted the ravages exercised by the
Mussulmans in the richest provinces of Palestine. Baldwin, who had
yielded up the royal authority with great regret, listened to the
complaints of the barons, and hastened to reascend a tottering throne.
He undertook to dissolve the marriage with Sibylla, and cited Guy
de Lusignan before the patriarch of Jerusalem and the nobles of the
kingdom, in order to deprive him of the counties of Ascalon and Jaffa.
As Guy did not appear on the day named, Baldwin, although infirm and
blind, repaired to Antioch, and finding the gates shut, struck them
several times with his hand without causing them to be opened.[301]
This unfortunate prince called upon Heaven to witness this insult,
and returned to Jerusalem, swearing to revenge himself upon Guy de
Lusignan. On his side, Guy no longer observed any measures, but took
up arms to sustain his revolt. In this emergency, Baldwin could find
no better means of punishing Guy than to oppose to him a regent and a
new king. By his orders, Baldwin V., who was five years of age, and
born of the first marriage of Sibylla with the son of the marquis de
Montferrat, was crowned in the church of the Holy Sepulchre, in the
presence of the nobles and the clergy. Raymond, count of Tripoli, less
odious to Baldwin than Guy, obtained the regency and assumed the reins
of government.
The kingdom of Jerusalem, which had proceeded rapidly to decay since
the reign of Baldwin III., became now an object worthy of pity. The
stormy passions, almost always inseparable from a feudal government,
had long since weakened all the springs of authority. The royalty,
for whose remains they were quarrelling, was nothing but a vain name;
in the midst of the factions by which he was surrounded, a king of
Jerusalem could neither revenge his own injuries, nor those of the
Church or of Christ. Want of courage was the only crime he could punish
without exciting the murmurs of the barons, because with them cowards
found no defenders. Amaury had ignominiously hung twelve Templars,
accused of having neglected the defence of a fortress; but he had
not the power to receive an ambassador sent by the _Old Man of the
Mountain_, in whom the hope of freeing himself from a tribute paid
to the grand master of the Templars, had awakened a desire to become
a Christian. When the ambassador was assassinated in Jerusalem by a
Templar, Amaury had no authority to bring the murderer to judgment;
deplorable weakness of a king who possesses not the first prerogative
of royalty, that of maintaining justice and causing the rights of
nations to be respected!
The kingdom was covered with strong castles, the commanders of which
barely recognised the authority of the king. On the summit of every
mountain upon which appeared threatening towers, in caverns even, which
had been transformed into fortresses, barons commanded as masters, and
made peace or war at their pleasure. The military orders, the only
support of the state, were divided among themselves, and sometimes shed
their blood in quarrels fatal to the cause of the Christians.
Discord reigned between the clergy and the knights of the Temple and
St. John; the military orders were not subject to the jurisdiction of
ecclesiastics, and the clergy, accustomed to dictate laws to princes,
could not endure the haughty independence of a few warriors. Led away
by the spirit of discord, the Hospitallers raised edifices in front of
the church of the Resurrection, and often drowned the voices of the
priests who celebrated the praises of God at the foot of his altars.
Some of them even went so far as to pursue priests with arrow-shots
into the very church of the Holy Sepulchre. As the only vengeance, the
priests gathered together in bundles the arrows that had been shot at
them, and placed them on an elevated spot on the Mount of Olives, that
every one might be acquainted with the sacrilege.
These quarrels, which were every day renewed, were carried before the
tribunal of the Holy See, whose decisions frequently only inflamed the
minds of the disputants the more. The Church of Rome, very far from
restoring peace to the Christians of the East, often cast amongst them
fresh coals of discord. The schisms which troubled the West, more than
once kindled war in the holy places, even upon the tomb of Christ.
Concord seldom prevailed long between the inhabitants of Palestine
and the European warriors who came into Asia to combat the infidels.
The Syrian barons employed the forces of their auxiliaries to carry
out their own ambitious views; and the latter, by their pride and
disdain, laid a high price upon their services. Almost always on the
arrival of fresh pilgrims, a treaty was violated or a truce broken, in
order to make incursions upon the territories of the Saracens; and not
unfrequently, the Crusaders, without even seeing the enemy, abandoned
Palestine to the perils of a war they had themselves provoked.
In the cities, particularly the maritime cities, several nations dwelt
together, and disputed precedence and sovereignty, sword in hand. All
who came to establish themselves in the Holy Land, brought with them
and preserved the remembrances and prejudices of their native country.
In the cities of Ascalon, Tyre, or Ptolemaïs, the inhabitants were much
more interested in the glory and prosperity of Pisa, Genoa, and Venice,
than in the safety of the kingdom of Jerusalem.
The greater part of the barons and knights displayed none of the
heroic resignation of the early soldiers of the cross, in supporting
fatigues or braving difficulties. Since the conquest of Egypt had been
contemplated, war was only considered as a means of acquiring wealth;
and the thirst for booty destroyed the principle of honour, the love of
glory, and even all anxiety for the cause of Christ. The question was
no longer what enemy was to be attacked, what ally was to be defended,
but what city or province was to be delivered up to pillage. Discipline
degenerated in the camp; the Christian warriors still displayed their
natural bravery, but they neither knew how to obey nor to command, and
anarchy reigned as completely in the army as throughout the kingdom.
Many of the leaders abandoned their colours under the most perilous
circumstances, and sold their inaction or their neutrality. Some,
like the Templar Meslier and his companions, forgetful of their vows,
ravaged the Christian provinces; whilst others, urged on by ambition
or vengeance, allied themselves with the Saracens, and received in the
service of the infidels the reward of their disgraceful apostasy.
Religion, which ought to have been the connecting tie between the
Christians established in the Holy Land, and which alone could preserve
among them sentiments of patriotism,—religion had lost all empire
over their minds. War was still made in its name, but its laws were
unpractised and unacknowledged. The conversion of the Maronites of
Libanus, who rejoined the Church of Rome in the reign of Baldwin IV.,
was celebrated at Jerusalem as a victory gained over heresy, but it had
not the effect of bringing back the Christians to the spirit of the
Scriptures. Pious men who lived in a corrupted age, groaned under the
depravity of manners which every day made such frightful progress.[302]
The respectable archbishop of Tyre trembles as he traces the history of
this unhappy period, and fears lest truth should give to his recitals
the colour of satire. “There is,” says he, “scarcely one chaste woman
to be found in the city of Jerusalem.” The leaders of the Christian
colonies, equally with the heads of the Church, themselves set the
example of licentiousness. The Christians beheld a queen of Jerusalem,
the widow of Baldwin III., keep up a criminal intercourse with
Andronicus, and seek an abode among the Saracens with the companion of
her debaucheries.[303] Bohemond, prince of Antioch, repudiated his wife
Erina, to espouse a courtesan. The patriarch, disgusted with such a
scandal, excommunicated young Bohemond, and placed an interdict upon
his states; and thus the guilty amours of a Christian prince produced
trouble and desolation throughout a whole nation. The sight even of
the tomb of Christ was unable to inspire more holy thoughts. The
patriarch Heraclius, who only owed his elevation to mundane and profane
qualities, lavished the treasures due to pilgrims and the poor, upon
infamous prostitutes, and the Christian people were often astonished
to see the notorious Pâque de Rivery display, even in the sanctuary,
ornaments purchased with the alms of the faithful.
A people thus degenerated could not possibly preserve the kingdom of
Christ. The eyes of all were turned towards the West, and Heraclius,
attended by the two grand masters of the Temple and St. John, was
sent into Europe to solicit the prompt assistance of kings and their
warriors. The king of France, Philip Augustus, received the Christian
deputies with great honours; but as he had but recently ascended
the throne, the interests of his kingdom would not permit him to go
in person to the defence of Jerusalem. Henry II., king of England,
appeared to be the last hope of the Christians; he had promised the
pope to make the pilgrimage to the Holy Land, as an expiation of the
murder of the archbishop of Canterbury, and Heraclius repaired to his
court, presenting him with the keys and standard of the Holy Sepulchre,
and pressing him to perform his promise. The bad reputation of the
patriarch had preceded him into Europe, and very much weakened the
effect of his words; he displayed, likewise, neither the meekness nor
the charity of the Scriptures, and only irritated those whom he sought
to persuade or convince. As the English monarch hesitated to fulfil his
promises, alleging his advanced age and the welfare of his dominions,
Heraclius loaded him with the most outrageous reproaches, threatening
him with the anger of Heaven. The aged Henry appearing irritated by
this language, the patriarch redoubled his insolence and pride. “You
may,” said he, on terminating his discourse, “treat me as you treated
my brother Thomas, for it is quite indifferent to me whether I die in
Syria by the hands of infidels, or perish here by the orders of you
who are more wicked than a Saracen.” Henry endeavoured to conceal his
anger, and did not dare to punish the envoy of the Christians; he even
treated him with great magnificence, but yet did not leave England. He
contented himself with sending the Christians of Jerusalem a large sum
of money, and exhorting his subjects to arm themselves for the defence
of the Holy Land.
The zeal for crusades began at this time to abate, and several
ambassadors returned to Jerusalem without having been able to arouse
the enthusiasm of the western Christians. Nations, to be excited to
active ardour for holy wars, required the example of princes or kings.
The warriors of Europe paid little attention to the exhortations of the
pope and Heraclius. The deputies returned into Palestine without having
obtained the assistance they demanded; and their appearance produced
discouragement and despair among all the Christians of the East.
The unfortunate king, Baldwin, had entirely lost the faculties of
both mind and body; and, tormented by his sufferings, he every day
drew nearer to the tomb, presenting but too faithful an image of the
weakness and decline of his kingdom. Whilst the approach of death
filled his palace with mourning, parties contended for a throne which
tottered to its fall, and for a crown which the most wise compared
to the crown of thorns of Christ. When he closed his eyes, the evils
increased, and discord submitted to no restraint. The count of Tripoli
wished to retain the reins of government as regent; whilst Sibylla was
desirous of bestowing the sceptre upon her husband. In the midst of
these dissensions Baldwin V., the weak and fragile hope of the kingdom,
died suddenly. All who had aspired to his authority were accused of his
death: unhappy period, in which such accusations could possibly be well
founded, and in which a whole people could think of reproaching a queen
with the murder of her own son!
Scarcely was Baldwin dead than his mother desired to reign in his
place; and in order to satisfy the ambition of herself and Guy de
Lusignan, she disdained no artifice and spared no perfidious promises.
Whilst the count of Tripoli was gathering together at Naplouse the
barons and principal men of the kingdom, the daughter of Amaury, by the
advice of the patriarch and the grand master of the Templars, announced
her intention of separating herself from her husband, and choosing a
warrior able to defend the kingdom. When this report had circulated
through Jerusalem, Sibylla ordered the gates of the city to be shut,
and repaired to the church of the Holy Sepulchre. In the presence of
the tomb of Christ, Heraclius took the oath of allegiance to her in the
name of the clergy and the people, pronounced her divorce with a loud
voice, and commanded her in the name of Heaven to bestow her hand and
sceptre upon him she deemed most worthy of them. At these words Sibylla
placed the crown upon the head of her husband, who was on his knees
before her, saying it was not in the power of man to separate those
whom God had united.
Whilst a part of the people and some of the barons, seduced by vain
promises, applauded the choice of Sibylla, the partisans of Raymond
were highly indignant at having been deceived by a woman. The
coronation of Guy de Lusignan naturally alarmed all who thought that
Jerusalem stood in less need of a king than of a defender. Baldwin of
Ramla, one of the most skilful captains of his times, despaired of the
safety of the kingdom, and retired into the principality of Antioch,
repeating the threats of the prophets against Jerusalem. Geoffrey de
Lusignan, when he heard of the elevation of his brother, could not
forbear exclaiming: “_Well, if they have made a king of him, they would
have made a god of me if they had known me_.”
When that which had taken place at Jerusalem was announced to the
barons assembled at Naplouse, most of them resolved to abandon
Palestine; but the count of Tripoli detained them, advising them
to name a new king, and bestow the crown upon Homfrey de Thorou,
who had recently married Isabella, the second daughter of Amaury.
He even promised to gain the support of Saladin for this election,
and succeeded in persuading the assembly. Whilst they were yet
deliberating, young Homfrey, terrified at the burden they wished to
impose upon him, fled away secretly by night, and hastened to the
capital to ask pardon of Queen Sibylla, protesting that he preferred
ease and life to the throne of Jerusalem. This flight disconcerted all
measures and changed all projects. Several barons, not knowing to what
party it would be best to ally themselves, went and took the oath to
Guy de Lusignan; whilst others, returning to their castles, awaited
coming events. Raymond retired to his county of Tiberias, of which he
had obtained the sovereignty.
The retreat and the murmurs of the enemies of Guy only increased his
pride. The more he stood in need of mildness and moderation, the more
haughtiness and severity he displayed. His disdainful manners drove
from him the barons who had remained faithful to him. Stimulated by
the grand master of the Templars, who was the declared enemy of the
count of Tripoli, he made preparations to besiege the city of Tiberias;
whilst Raymond, who was determined to defend himself, carried away by
the excess of his anger, implored the aid of Saladin against the king
of Jerusalem.
At the approach of the evils about to fall upon the kingdom, nothing
was heard but complaints and seditious clamours; but neither the
dangers of the Christian colonies, nor the aspect of the threatened
holy places, could silence ambition or check revolt. The historian of
the kingdom of Jerusalem here feels the pen fall from his hand, and
stops, terrified at the events which are left for him to describe.
Amidst the general disorder and agitation, the superstitious minds
of the Christians beheld nothing in the future but great calamities,
and everything seemed to present sinister presages to their eyes.
“The signs which were displayed in the heavens,” says a contemporary
chronicle, “allowed it to be plainly perceived that God held in
abomination that which was going on. Impetuous winds, tempests, and
storms arose on all sides; the light of the sun was obscured during
several days, and hailstones as large as the eggs of a goose fell
from heaven. The earth, equally agitated by frequent and horrible
earthquakes, gave notice of coming ruin and destruction, with disasters
and defeats in war which were soon to visit the kingdom. Neither could
the sea confine itself within its bounds and limits, but announced
to us, by its horrible floods or its unusually impetuous waves, the
anger of God ready to fall upon us. Fire was seen blazing in the air
like a house in flames; you would have sworn that all the elements
and architecture of God were angry, and abhorred the excesses,
wickednesses, dissoluteness, and offences of the human race.”