Christians; but thinking men could perceive much more certain signs of
the approaching fall of the kingdom of Jerusalem. Mossoul, Aleppo, and
all the Mussulman cities of Syria and Mesopotamia, had submitted to the
power of Saladin. The son of Ayoub had triumphed over the emirs and
the scattered family of Noureddin. All the treasures of Egypt, all the
forces of Asia, were in his hands; there remained only one conquest for
him to make, and fortune, which had levelled all obstacles before him,
soon furnished him with a pretext and an opportunity of giving the last
blow to the power of the Christians.
The truce made with the king of Jerusalem was broken at the same time
by both Christians and Mussulmans. Renaud de Chatillon continued his
incursions upon the territories of the infidels, and only replied to
the complaints of Saladin by new violations of treaties. A Mussulman
army, which the sultan of Damascus had sent to the assistance of
the count of Tripoli, advanced into the country of Galilee, whither
five hundred knights of the Temple and St. John hastened to defend
the Christian territory, and give battle to the Saracens. They were
speedily overwhelmed by numbers, and almost all perished on the field
of battle. Old chronicles, whilst celebrating the bravery of the
Christian knights, relate prodigies which we have now great difficulty
in believing. These indomitable heroes, after having exhausted their
arrows, plucked from their own bodies such as had pierced them, and
launched them back upon the enemy; pressed by fatigue and heat, they
drank their own blood, and revived their strength by the very means
which must weaken it; at length, after having broken their lances
and swords, they rushed upon their enemies, fought body to body,
rolling in the dust with the Mussulman warriors, and died threatening
their conquerors. Above all the rest, nothing could equal the heroic
valour of Jacques de Maillé, a knight of the Temple. Mounted on a
white horse, he remained alone in the field of battle, and fought on,
surrounded by heaps of slain. Although hemmed in on all sides, he
refused to surrender. The horse which he rode, worn out with fatigue
and exhausted by wounds, sunk under him, and dragged him with him;
but the intrepid knight arose, lance in hand, covered with blood and
dust, and bristling with arrows, and rushed upon the ranks of the
Mussulmans, astonished at his audacity; at length he fell, covered
with wounds, but fighting to the last. The Saracens took him for St.
George, whom the Christians believed they saw descend from heaven to
join their battalions. After his death the Turkish soldiers, whom an
historian calls _the children of Babylon and Sodom_, drew near with
signs of respect to his body, slain by a thousand wounds; they wiped
off the blood, they shared the rags of his clothes and the fragments of
his arms, and, in their brutal excitement, evinced their admiration by
actions that make modesty blush when speaking of them.[304]
The grand master of the Templars, with two of his knights, were all
that escaped from the carnage. This battle was fought on the 1st of
May, 1187. In the season, says an ancient chronicle, in which flowers
and roses are gathered in the fields, the Christians of Nazareth
found nothing but the traces of slaughter and the mangled bodies of
their brethren. They buried them in the church of St. Mary, repeating
these prophetic words: “_Daughters of Galilee, put on your garments
of mourning; and you, daughters of Sion, weep over the ills that
threaten the kings of Judah_.” The terror which this sanguinary defeat
created for a moment appeased the discords of the Christians. The king
consented to be reconciled to the count of Tripoli, whilst on his part
Raymond resolved to forget his private injuries, and to use every
effort to repair the misfortunes he had brought upon the kingdom. He
repaired to Jerusalem, where Guy de Lusignan, coming forth to meet him,
received him with marks of sincere affection. The two princes embraced
before the people, and swore to fight in unison for the heritage of
Christ.
After the rupture of the truce, Saladin employed himself in getting
together a formidable army. Turks, Arabs, Curds, and Egyptians flocked
to his standard; he promised the spoils of the Christians to the
Mussulman families that had been driven from Palestine; he distributed
cities and provinces beforehand to his faithful emirs, and held out to
all his soldiers the certainty of pillage or a glorious martyrdom. The
caliph of Bagdad and all the imauns of Egypt, Syria, and Mesopotamia
put up prayers for the triumph of his arms and the deliverance of
Jerusalem. He crossed the Jordan, and advanced into Galilee at the head
of eighty thousand horse.
In a council held at Jerusalem, Guy de Lusignan, the count of Tripoli,
and the barons deliberated upon the measures most proper to be adopted
to save the kingdom. The knights of the three military orders, the
troops of the king and the nobles, the garrisons of cities, with all
Christians able to bear arms, received orders to assemble on the plain
of Sephouri. It was determined to employ in the prosecution of the
war the treasures sent by Henry II., which were kept in the house of
the Temple; and to associate the English monarch in the glory of this
holy expedition, the arms of England were represented on the standards
of the Christian army. The wood of the true cross, which had so often
animated the Crusaders in fight, was exhibited to the people as a
last means of safety, and carried in triumph to the place where the
defenders of Jerusalem were assembled.
An army of fifty thousand fighting men had been collected on the plain
of Sephouri, when the leaders learned that Saladin had carried the
city of Tiberias by assault, and threatened the citadel, in which were
shut up the women and children of the count of Tripoli. The Christians
who had escaped from the sword of the Saracens, in the utmost terror,
took refuge in the camp of Sephouri, conjuring the king and the chiefs
to put an end to the ravages of the infidels. The barons assembled in
the tent of Guy, and all at once exclaimed that it was necessary to
march immediately against the enemy. Raymond then arose and demanded
permission to speak. “I am about,” said he, “to lay before you advice
which will surprise you; but I offer it with the greater confidence
from its being opposed to my personal interests. My desolated country,
my cities in ashes, my subjects ready to submit to death or slavery,
my wife exposed to the insults of the Mussulmans all implore instant
succour from me and you; but it is my duty to think of the safety of
the Christian cities now left without garrisons. In this army assembled
on the plain of Sephouri exists the only hope which the Christians of
the East have left. You behold here all the soldiers of Christ, all the
defenders of Jerusalem; if they perish, the infidels have no other foes
to dread. Beware, then, of leading this multitude of men and horses
into a dry and arid country, where the season, with thirst and hunger,
must soon deliver them up without defence to the enemy. The number even
of the Christian soldiers inspires me with more alarm than confidence.
They present nothing but a confused troop of men got together in haste,
and totally unable to support fatigue. The Mussulman archers are more
skilful than our soldiers in casting javelins, and may harass us on
our march, without our being able to defend ourselves; the cavalry of
Saladin is more numerous and better trained than ours, and may attack
us with advantage on the plains, across which we must pass. Abandon,
then, I entreat you, Tiberias to the Mussulmans, and let us save an
army which may yet repair our losses.
“I swear before God and before man, that I would willingly abandon
the county of Tripoli, with all the lands I possess, to procure the
safety of the city of Christ. Our only aim must be to destroy the
power of Saladin, and at the same time to preserve some defenders for
the kingdom of Jerusalem. If we go to meet the enemy and should be
conquered, God himself will not be able to save the Christians, but
will allow us to be delivered up to the infidels. If, on the contrary,
the enemy come to offer themselves to our arms, all our losses will be
repaired, and the evils that will fall upon me, will become for me a
source of gratification, since I shall have suffered for the cause of
Christ and the safety of his people.”
The more generosity there was in this advice, the less sincere it was
esteemed. The grand master of the Templars, blinded by his hatred for
Raymond, interrupted him several times; he reminded the assembly of
the alliance of the count of Tripoli with Saladin, and exclaimed aloud
that he could plainly perceive _the wolf’s skin under the fleece of
the sheep_. When Raymond invoked the name of Christ, the grand master
repeated with bitterness, that the name of _Mahomet_ was better fitted
to the mouth of a traitor. The count of Tripoli made not the least
reply to the insulting words of the grand master, but finished his
speech by these words, uttered with an accent of perfect conviction:
“_I will submit to the punishment of death if these things do not fall
out as I have said_.”
The council of the knights and barons adopted the opinion of Raymond;
but when Guy was left alone in his tent, the grand master came to
him, and infused into his mind the blackest suspicions of the conduct
and secret designs of the count of Tripoli. The feeble Lusignan, who
had already issued several contradictory orders, gave the command for
marching to meet the enemy. For the first time, the king of Jerusalem
was obeyed, and that was for the ruin of the Christians.
The undetermined conduct that Lusignan had exhibited, communicated
itself to the other chiefs, and this want of a fixed purpose spread
trouble and confusion throughout the army. The disheartened soldiers
quitted the camp of Sephouri with reluctance, and saw nothing around
them but presages of an approaching defeat. The Christian army advanced
towards Tiberias, and were marching in silence across a plain, which
modern travellers call the plain of Batouf, when they perceived the
standards of Saladin.
The Mussulman army was encamped on the heights of Loubi, with the
Lake of Tiberias in its rear; it covered the tops of the hills, and
commanded all the defiles through which the Christians had to pass.
The barons and knights then remembered the advice of Raymond, but
they had lost the opportunity of following it, and the courage of the
Christian soldiers alone could repair the errors of their leaders.
The bold and desperate resolution was formed of cutting themselves
a passage through the army of the enemy, so as to gain the banks
of the Jordan. On the 4th of July, at break of day, the Christians
began their march. From the moment they were in motion, the Mussulman
archers unceasingly poured upon them showers of arrows. The army of
the Franks was bravely enduring, on its march, the attacks of the
Saracen archers, when Saladin descended into the plain at the head of
his cavalry. Then the Christians were compelled to stop, and fight
with the enemy that disputed their passage.[305] The first shock was
impetuous and terrible; but as the Franks had for many days been short
of both provisions and water, and were oppressed by heat and thirst,
they had less strength than courage, and fell more from lassitude than
in consequence of their wounds. The bishops passed through the ranks,
and endeavoured to revive the ardour of the soldiers by the images of
religion.
The true cross, placed upon an elevated spot, for a moment reanimated
them, and drew around it the most fervent and the most intrepid.
Saladin himself said, in a letter, that the Christian soldiers fought
around the cross with the greatest bravery, and that they seemed to
consider it the strongest tie that bound them together, and as their
impenetrable buckler.[306] But the sight of a revered sign, and the
passing ardour which it created, only served to increase the disorder
of the fight. All the Mussulman forces united in one body to attack the
Christians. The cavalry of Saladin poured down upon them several times
with irresistible impetuosity, and penetrated through their ranks;
victory was evidently about to incline to the side of the Saracens,
when night put an end to the conflict. The Franks and the Saracens both
remained on the plain where they had fought all day, and prepared to
renew the battle on the morrow.
The Saracens were confident of victory. Saladin went through the ranks
of his army, inflaming the courage of the Mussulman soldiers by his
presence and his speeches. “To-morrow,” said he, “is a festival for
the true believers, for it is on Friday that Mussulmans offer up their
prayers, and that Mahomet listens to the vows that are made to him.”
The Mussulmans replied to their leader by the loudest acclamations.
Saladin then placed archers on the heights, ordered four hundred
charges of arrows to be distributed, and disposed his troops in such
a manner, that the Christian army should be surrounded from the very
commencement of the contest. The Christian soldiers took advantage of
the darkness to rally and close in their ranks; but their powers were
exhausted. Sometimes they exhorted each other to brave death; and at
others, raising their hands towards heaven, implored the All-Powerful
to save them. They then uttered threats against the Saracens, who were
near enough to hear them; but sad and sinister presentiments appeared
to deprive them of all hopes of victory. In order to conceal their
alarms, they made their camp resound during the whole night with the
noise of drums and trumpets.
At last daylight appeared, and was the signal for the entire ruin of
the Christian army. As soon as the Franks beheld the whole of the
forces of Saladin, and found themselves surrounded on all sides, they
were seized with surprise and terror. The two armies remained for a
considerable time drawn up in sight of each other, Saladin waiting
until the sun had completely illumined the horizon, to give the signal
for attack. From dawn a strong wind had prevailed, which blew full in
the faces of the Christians, and covered them with clouds of dust.
When Saladin gave the fatal word, the Saracens rushed upon their
enemies from all sides, uttering the most terrifying cries. To employ
the expressions of Oriental writers, “_It was then that the sons of
Paradise and the children of fire fought out their terrible quarrel;
the arrows sounded in the air like the noisy flight of birds; the water
of swords_ ’sic), _the blood of arrows spouted out from the bosom
of the mêlée, and covered the earth like the waters of rain_.”[307]
The Christians at first defended themselves valiantly, but Saladin
having set fire to the dry grass that covered the plain, the flames
surrounded their army, and scorched the feet of both men and horses.
Disorder began to prevail in their ranks, but they fought bravely
still. Swords gleamed through the flames, and the Christian knights,
rushing from masses of smoke and fire, precipitated themselves, lance
in hand, upon their enemies. In their despair, they endeavoured to
pierce through the battalions of the Saracens, but everywhere met with
an invincible resistance. Again and again they returned to the charge,
and as often were they repulsed. A prey to hunger and a consuming
thirst, they saw nothing around them but burning rocks and the
sparkling swords of their enemies. The mountain of Ettin arose on their
left, and in it they endeavoured to find an asylum; but, hotly pursued
by the Saracens, they were cast, some down precipices, and others into
narrow ravines, where their bravery was of no avail.
The knights of the Temple and St. John performed prodigies of valour,
and fought until the close of day, rallying round the wood of the true
cross. This sacred standard was borne by the bishop of Ptolemaïs,
who was killed in the heat of the battle. The bishop of Lidda, who
took it up and endeavoured to fly, was stopped, and taken prisoner.
A cry of despair arose from among the Franks when they saw the sign
of their safety in the hands of the conqueror; even the most brave
cast away their arms, and without attempting to fly, rushed upon the
swords of the infidels. The field of battle became nothing but a scene
of desolation; and the Christian warriors who had not been able to
save the cross of Christ, no longer feared either death or slavery.
The king of Jerusalem was made prisoner with his brother Geoffrey,
the grand master of the Templars, Renaud de Chatillon, and all the
most illustrious knights of Palestine. Raymond, who commanded the
vanguard of the Christian army, after having fought valiantly, opened
for himself a passage through the Saracens, and fled to Tripoli,[308]
where, a short time afterwards, he died of despair, accused by the
Mussulmans of having violated treaties, and by the Christians of
having betrayed both his religion and his country. Bohemond, prince
of Antioch, Renaud of Sidon, the young count of Tiberias, and a small
number of soldiers accompanied Raymond in his flight, and were the
only persons that escaped after this day, so fatal to the kingdom of
Jerusalem.
The Oriental historians whilst describing the victory of the Saracens,
have celebrated the bravery and firmness of the Frank knights, covered
with their cuirasses, made with rings of steel. These brave warriors at
first presented an impenetrable wall to the strokes of the Saracens;
but when their horses sunk, exhausted by fatigue, or wounded by lances
or javelins, Saladin met with very little more resistance, and the
battle became a horrible carnage. An Arabian author, a secretary and
companion of Saladin, who was present at this terrible conflict, has
not been able to refrain from pitying the disasters of the vanquished.
“I saw,” says he, “the hills, the plains, the valleys covered with
their dead bodies; I saw their colours abandoned and soiled with
blood and dust; I saw their heads struck off, their members dispersed
and their carcasses piled up like stones.” After the battle, the
cords of the tents were not sufficient to bind the prisoners; the
Saracen soldiers drove them in crowds, like vile herds of cattle. The
conquerors divided the captives amongst them, and the number was so
great, that, according to an historian, a pair of shoes was exchanged
for a Christian knight.
Saladin caused a tent to be erected in his camp, in which he received
Guy de Lusignan, and the principal leaders of the Christian army, whom
victory had placed in his hands. He treated the king of the Franks with
kindness, and ordered him to be served with a drink cooled in snow. As
the king, after having drunk, presented the cup to Renaud de Chatillon,
who was next to him, the sultan stopped him, and said, “That traitor
shall not drink in my presence, for I will show him no favour.” Then
addressing himself to Renaud, he made him the most severe reproaches
for his violation of treaties, and threatened him with death if he
did not embrace the religion of the prophet he had insulted. Renaud
de Chatillon replied with noble firmness, and braved the menaces of
Saladin, who struck him with his sabre. Some Mussulman soldiers, at the
signal of their master, threw themselves upon the disarmed prisoner,
and the head of a martyr of the cross fell at the feet of the king of
Jerusalem.
On the following day the sultan ordered the knights of the Temple and
St. John, who were among the prisoners, to be brought before him; and,
as they were led past his throne, said, “I will deliver the earth of
these two unclean races.” The grand master of the Templars found favour
before him, doubtless because his imprudent counsels had given up the
Christian army to the swords of the Saracens. A great number of emirs
and doctors of the law surrounded the throne of Saladin, and the sultan
permitted each of them to slay a Christian knight. Some of them refused
to shed blood, and turned their eyes away from so odious a spectacle;
but others, arming themselves with swords, massacred knights bound with
fetters, without pity, whilst Saladin sat on his throne, applauding the
horrible execution. The knights received the palm of martyrdom with
joy; most of the prisoners were anxious for death; and many among them,
although not belonging to the military orders, cried aloud that they
were Hospitallers or Templars, and, as if they feared they should want
executioners, pressed before each other, in order to secure the fatal
stroke from the hands of the infidels.
Saladin disgraced his victory by this barbarity; the fear with which
the Christians inspired him, even after defeat, made him cruel. He
became more humane and generous when he felt more assured of his
victory and confident of his power. Two days were devoted by the
Mussulmans to returning thanks to Heaven for the victory with which it
had blessed their arms; and then Saladin gave his attention to all the
advantages that might be obtained from it. As soon as he became master
of the citadel of Tiberias, he sent the wife of Raymond to Tripoli; and
was, with his army, very shortly under the ramparts of Ptolemaïs. This
city, full of merchants, and which, at a later period, sustained the
attacks of the most powerful armies of the West, during three years,
did not stand out two days against Saladin. The inhabitants had liberty
to retire with their most valuable property; and the churches were
converted into mosques, in which thanks were offered up to Mahomet for
the triumphs obtained over the Christian soldiers.
The terror which preceded his army opened to Saladin the gates of
Naplouse, Jericho, Ramla, and a great number of other cities which were
left almost without inhabitants. The cities of Cæsarea, Arsuf, Jaffa,
and Berouth shared the fate of Ptolemaïs; the yellow standards of
Saladin floated over their walls. On the sea-coast, the cities of Tyre,
Tripoli, and Ascalon still remained in the hands of the Christians.
Saladin attacked Tyre without success, and determined to wait for a
more favourable opportunity to renew the siege. Ascalon presented
itself to him as a conquest of much greater importance, as it would
assure his communication with Egypt. This city was besieged by the
Mussulmans, but it resisted, at first, with more firmness than Saladin
had expected. When a breach was effected, the sultan proposed peace;
but the inhabitants, with whom despair supplied the place of courage,
sent back his messengers without granting them a hearing. The king of
Jerusalem, whom Saladin led with him in triumph, then entreated the
defenders of Ascalon not to compromise the safety of their families and
the Christians of the city by a useless defence. After this appeal,
the principal among them came to the tent of the sultan: “It is not
for ourselves,” said they, “that we are come to implore mercy, but for
our wives and children. Of what importance is a perishable life to us?
We look for a more solid blessing, and that death alone can procure
us. God alone, the master of all events, has allowed you to obtain
victories over the unhappy Christians; but you shall not enter into
Ascalon unless you take pity on our families, and promise to restore
the king of Jerusalem to liberty.”
Saladin, touched by the heroism of the inhabitants of Ascalon, accepted
the conditions proposed. Such devotedness merited the redemption of a
prince of nobler character and more worthy of the love of his subjects
than Guy de Lusignan. Saladin consented to liberate the captive monarch
at the expiration of a year.
The moment was now come in which Jerusalem was again fated to fall
into the power of the infidels; and all Mussulmans earnestly implored
Mahomet for this crowning triumph for the arms of Saladin. After
having taken Gaza, and several fortresses in the neighbourhood, the
sultan drew his army together and marched towards the holy city. A
queen in tears, the children of the warriors slain at the battle of
Tiberias, a few fugitive soldiers, and some pilgrims recently arrived
from the West were the only guardians of the Holy Sepulchre. A great
number of Christian families which had left the devastated provinces
of Palestine, filled the capital, and, very far from bringing it
any assistance, only served to increase the general trouble and
consternation.
When Saladin drew near to the holy city, he caused the principal
inhabitants to be sent for, and said to them: “I acknowledge, as well
as you, that Jerusalem is the house of God; I do not wish to profane
its sanctity by the effusion of blood: abandon its walls and I will
bestow upon you a part of my treasures; I will give you as much land
as you will be able to cultivate.” “We cannot,” they replied, “yield
the city in which our God died; still less can we give it up to
you.” Saladin, enraged by their refusal, swore upon the Koran to lay
prostrate the towers and ramparts of Jerusalem, and to avenge the death
of the Mussulmans slaughtered by the companions and soldiers of Godfrey
of Bouillon.
At the moment in which Saladin was speaking to the deputies, an
eclipse of the sun all at once left the heavens in utter darkness, and
appeared to be a presage fatal for the Christians. Nevertheless, the
inhabitants, encouraged by the clergy, prepared to defend the city,
and chose as their commander Baleau d’Ibelin, who had been present at
the battle of Tiberias. This old warrior, whose experience and virtues
inspired confidence and respect, immediately set about repairing the
fortifications, and training the new defenders of Jerusalem. As he
was deficient in officers, he created fifty knights from amongst the
citizens; and all the Christians able to bear arms, placed themselves
under his command, and swore to shed their blood in the cause of
Christ. They had no money to meet the expenses of the war, but all
means of obtaining it seemed legitimate in a danger that threatened the
city of God. They despoiled the churches, and the people, terrified at
the approach of Saladin, beheld, without scandal, the precious metal
which covered the chapel of the Holy Sepulchre converted into coin.[309]
The standards of Saladin were soon seen floating over the heights of
Emaüs, and the Mussulman army encamped on the same places on which
Godfrey, Tancred, and the two Roberts had pitched their tents when they
besieged the holy city. The besieged at first resisted boldly, and made
frequent sorties, in which they bore in one hand a lance or a sword,
and in the other a shovel filled with dust, which they cast upon the
Saracens. A great number of Christians received the palm of martyrdom,
and ascended, say the historians, to the heavenly Jerusalem—many
Mussulmans fell beneath the swords of their enemies, and _went to dwell
on the banks of the river which waters Paradise_.
Saladin, after being encamped for several days on the western side of
the city, directed his operations towards the north, and caused the
ramparts which extended from the gate of Jehoshaphat to that of St.
Stephen to be undermined. The bravest of the citizens made a sortie,
and endeavoured to destroy the machines and works of the besiegers,
encouraging each other by repeating these words of Scripture: “_A
single one of us shall make ten infidels fly, and ten of us shall
put to flight ten thousand._” They performed prodigies of valour,
but they could not interrupt the progress of the siege. Repulsed by
the Saracens, they were forced to return to the city, whither their
appearance brought terror and discouragement. The towers and ramparts
appeared ready to fall at the first signal for a general assault.
Despair then took entire possession of the inhabitants, who saw
no means of defence within their power but tears and prayers. The
soldiers crowded to the churches instead of flying to arms; and not
even the promise of a hundred pieces of gold could keep them on the
tottering ramparts for one night. The clergy made processions through
the streets, to invoke the protection of Heaven. Some struck their
breasts with stones, whilst others tore their bodies with hair-cloth,
crying aloud for _mercy_! Nothing was heard in Jerusalem but sobs and
groans; “_but our Jesus Christ_,” says an old chronicle, “_would not
hear them, for the luxury and impurity that were in the city would not
allow either orisons or prayers to ascend before him_.” The despair of
the inhabitants inspired them with the most contradictory projects at
the same time; at one moment they formed the resolution of issuing in
a body from the city, and seeking a glorious death in the ranks of the
infidels; whilst, the next, they placed their last hope in the clemency
of Saladin.
Amid the general trouble and agitation, the Greek and Syrian
Christians, with the Melachite Christians, endured very unwillingly the
authority of the Latins, and accused them of all the misfortunes of the
war. A plot for giving up the city to the Mussulmans was discovered,
which redoubled the general alarm, and made the principal inhabitants
determine upon demanding a capitulation of Saladin. Accompanied by
Baleau d’Ibelin, they went and proposed to the sultan to give up the
place to him upon the conditions he had himself proposed before the
siege. But Saladin remembered that he had sworn to take the city by
assault, and put the inhabitants to the sword; and he sent back the
deputies without giving them the least hope. Baleau d’Ibelin returned
several times, renewing his supplications and his prayers, but always
found Saladin inexorable. One day, whilst the Christian deputies were
earnestly imploring him to accept their capitulation, turning towards
the place, and pointing to his standards which floated over the walls,
“How can you ask me,” said he, “to grant conditions to a city which is
already taken?”
Nevertheless, the Saracens were repulsed; and Baleau, reanimated by
the success the Christians had obtained, replied to the sultan: “You
see that Jerusalem is not without defenders; if we can obtain no mercy
from you, we will form a terrible resolution, and the fruits of our
despair shall fill you with terror. These temples and palaces that you
are so anxious to conquer, shall be totally destroyed; all the riches
which excite the ambition and cupidity of the Saracens, shall become
the prey of the flames. We will destroy the mosque of Omar; and the
mysterious stone of Jacob, which is the object of your worship, shall
be broken and pounded into dust. Jerusalem contains five thousand
Mussulman prisoners; they shall all perish by the sword. We will,
with our own hands, slay our wives and children, and thus spare them
the shame of becoming your slaves. When the holy city shall be but a
heap of ruins—one vast tomb—we will march out of it, followed by the
angry manes of our friends and kindred; we will march out armed with
sword and fire; and no one of us will ascend to Paradise without having
consigned ten Mussulmans to hell. We shall thus obtain a glorious
death, and shall die calling down upon your head the maledictions of
the God of Jerusalem.”
This spirited speech alarmed Saladin, and he invited the deputies to
come again on the following day. He consulted with the doctors of the
law, who decided that he might accept the capitulation proposed by the
besieged, without violating his oath. The conditions were signed on
the following day in the tent of the sultan, and thus Jerusalem again
fell into the power of the infidels, after having been eighty-eight
years under the domination of the Christians. The Latin historians
had remarked that the Crusaders entered the city on a Friday, and
at the same hour that Christ had submitted to death to expiate the
crimes of the human race. The Saracens retook the city on a Friday,
the anniversary of the day on which, according to their creed, Mahomet
set out from Jerusalem to ascend into heaven. This circumstance, which
might influence Saladin in his agreement to sign the capitulation, did
not fail to add a new splendour to his triumph with the Mussulmans, and
caused him to be regarded as the favourite of the Prophet.
All the warriors who were in Jerusalem when the capitulation was
signed, obtained permission to retire to Tyre or Tripoli. The conqueror
granted life to the inhabitants, and allowed them to purchase their
liberty. All Christians, with the exception of the Greeks and Syrians,
received orders to quit Jerusalem at the expiration of four days. The
rate of ransom was fixed at ten pieces of gold for the men, five for
the women, and two for the children. Such as could not purchase their
liberty, remained in slavery.
These conditions had at first been received with joy by the Christians;
but when they saw the day approach on which they were to leave
Jerusalem, they experienced nothing but the most bitter grief at
quitting the holy places. They watered the tomb of Christ with their
tears, and regretted that they had not died to defend it; they visited
Calvary and the churches they were never to see again, amidst groans
and sighs; they embraced each other in the streets, weeping and
lamenting over their fatal dissensions. Such as were unable to pay
their ransom, and would only quit Jerusalem to become slaves to the
Saracens, gave themselves up to all the excesses of despair. But such,
in these deplorable moments, was their attachment to the religion whose
precepts they had not always followed, that the insults offered to the
sacred objects of their worship, afflicted them more than their own
misfortunes.
At length the fatal day[310] arrived on which the Christians were to
quit Jerusalem. All the gates were shut except that of David, by which
the people were to go out. Saladin, seated on an elevated throne, saw
all the Christians pass before him. The patriarch, followed by the
clergy, appeared the first, carrying the sacred vases, the ornaments
of the church of the Holy Sepulchre, and treasures, of which God
alone, says an Arabian author, knew the value. The queen of Jerusalem,
accompanied[311] by the barons and knights, came next. Saladin
respected her grief, and addressed some words of kindness to her. The
queen was followed by a great number of women, bearing their children
in their arms, and uttering the most piercing cries. Many of them
drew near to the throne of Saladin, and said to him: “You see at your
feet the wives, the mothers, the daughters of the warriors you detain
prisoners; we leave for ever our country which they have defended with
glory; they helped to support our lives; in losing them, we have lost
our last hope; if you deign to restore them to us, they will lessen
the miseries of our exile, and we shall be no longer without help upon
earth.” Saladin was touched with their prayers, and promised to soften
the misfortunes of so many bereaved families. He restored the children
to their mothers, and the husbands to their wives, who were amongst
the unredeemed captives. Several Christians had abandoned their most
valuable goods, and bore upon their shoulders, some their parents
weakened by age, and others their infirm or sick friends. Saladin was
affected by this spectacle, and rewarded with gifts the virtue and
piety of his enemies; he took pity upon all distresses, and allowed the
Hospitallers to remain in the city to tend pilgrims, and assist such as
were prevented from leaving Jerusalem by serious illness.
When the Saracens began the siege, the holy city contained more than
a hundred thousand Christians. The greater part of them were able to
purchase their own liberty; and Baleau d’Ibelin, who was the depositary
of the treasures destined for the defence of the city, employed them in
procuring the freedom of part of the inhabitants. Malec Adel, brother
of the sultan, paid the ransom of two thousand captives. Saladin
followed his example, by breaking the chains of a great number of poor
and orphans. There only remained in bondage about fourteen thousand
Christians, amongst whom there were four or five thousand children
of tender age, who were insensible of their misfortunes, but whose
fate the Christians the more deplored, from the certainty that these
innocent victims of war would be brought up in the idolatry of Mahomet.
Many modern writers have compared the generous conduct of Saladin
with the revolting scenes which accompanied the entrance of the first
Crusaders into Jerusalem; but we must not forget that the Christians
offered to capitulate, whilst the Mussulmans sustained a long siege
with fanatical obstinacy; and that the companions of Godfrey, who were
in an unknown land, in the midst of hostile nations, carried the city
by assault, after braving numberless perils, and suffering all kinds of
miseries. But we beg to observe that we do not make this observation
to justify the Christians, or to weaken the praises history owes to
Saladin, and which he even obtained from the people he had conquered.
After having done honour to misfortune and consoled humanity, Saladin
gave his attention to his triumph. He entered Jerusalem preceded by his
victorious standards. A great number of imauns, doctors of the law,
and the ambassadors of many Mussulman princes, formed his train. By
his orders all the churches, except that of the Holy Sepulchre, were
converted into mosques. The sultan caused the walls and the vestibule
of the mosque of Omar to be washed with rose-water, brought from
Damascus, and with his own hands placed in it the pulpit constructed
by Noureddin. On the first Friday which followed his entrance into
Jerusalem, the people and the army assembled in the principal mosque,
and the chief of the imauns, ascending the pulpit of the Prophet,
returned thanks to God for the victories of Saladin. “Glory to God,”
said he, “who has caused Islamism to triumph, and who has broken the
power of the infidels. Praise with me the Lord, who has restored to us
Jerusalem, the dwelling of God, the abode of saints and prophets; it
was from the bosom of this sacred dwelling that God caused his servant
to travel during the darkness of night; it was to facilitate the
conquest of Jerusalem by Joshua that God formerly arrested the course
of the sun; and it is in this city, at the end of time, will assemble
all the prophets of the earth.” After having recapitulated the wonders
and miracles of Jerusalem, the preacher of Islamism addressed himself
to the soldiers of Saladin, and congratulated them with having braved
so many perils, and having shed their blood to accomplish the will of
Mahomet. “The soldiers of the prophet,” added he, “the companions of
Omar and Aboubeker, have appointed you places in their holy bands,
and expect you amongst the elect of Islamism. Witnesses of your last
triumph, the angels on the right hand of the Eternal have rejoiced; the
hearts of the messengers of God have leaped with joy. Praise, then,
with me the Lord; but yield not to the weaknesses of pride, and do not,
above everything, believe that it was your swords of steel, with your
horses, rapid as the wind, that have triumphed over the infidels. God
is God; God alone is powerful; God alone has given you the victory; he
orders you not to stop in a glorious career in which he himself leads
you by the hand. _The holy war! the holy war!_ that is the most pure
of your adorations, the most noble of your duties. Cut down all the
branches of impiety; cause Islamism to triumph everywhere; deliver the
earth of the nations against which God is angry.”
The chief of the imauns then prayed for the caliph of Bagdad, and
terminated his prayer by naming Saladin. “O God!” cried he, “watch
over the days of thy faithful servant, who is thy sharp sword, thy
resplendent star, the defender of thy worship, the liberator of thy
sacred dwelling. O God! let thy angels surround his empire, and prolong
his days for the glory of thy name!”
Thus Jerusalem had changed its worship on changing its masters. Whilst
the holy places resounded with the sacrilegious praises of the prophet,
the Christians departed sadly, plunged in profound grief, and detesting
the life which the Saracens had spared. Repulsed by their brethren of
the East, who accused them of having given up the tomb of their God
to the infidels, they wandered about Syria, without assistance and
without asylum; many died of grief and hunger; the city of Tripoli shut
its gates against them. Among this distracted multitude, one woman,
urged by despair, cast her infant into the sea, cursing the Christians
who refused them succour. They who directed their course to Egypt
were less unfortunate, and touched the hearts of the Mussulmans; many
embarked for Europe, whither they came to announce, with lamentations,
that Jerusalem was in the hands of Saladin.
The loss of the holy city was generally attributed to the crimes of
its inhabitants. Such was the policy of those times, that it explained
everything by the corruption or the sanctity of the Christians; as
if crime had not its moments of good fortune, and virtue its days of
calamity. There is no doubt that the corruption of manners had weakened
the springs of government, and enervated the courage of the people; but
the never-ending discords of the Christians did not contribute less
than their licentiousness and forgetfulness of scriptural morality, in
producing the disasters of Jerusalem. When we reflect, likewise, that
this weak kingdom, surrounded by enemies, was able to support itself,
and defer its ruin for eighty-eight years, we are much less astonished
at its fall than at the length of its duration. The kingdom of
Jerusalem owed its preservation and splendour to the divisions of the
Turks and Saracens, and the numerous supplies it received from Europe;
it fell as soon as it was left to itself, and its enemies united to
attack it.
As it was at that time, however, believed that the welfare of
Christianity and the glory even of God were attached to the
preservation of Jerusalem, the loss of the holy city created throughout
Europe as much surprise as consternation. The news of this disaster was
first brought into Italy; and Pope Urban III., who was then at Ferrara,
died of grief. Christians forgot all the ills of their own country
to weep over Jerusalem; it even superseded all other afflictions in
private families. Priests carried from city to city images,[312]
representing the holy sepulchre trampled under the feet of horses,
and Christ cast to the earth by Mahomet. Melancholy songs deplored
the captivity of the king of Jerusalem and his knights, the fate of
the virgins of the Lord abandoned to the insults of infidels, and the
misfortunes of Christian children brought up in slavery and in the
worship of false prophets.
Superstition, joined with despair, created a belief in the most
sinister prodigies. On the day Saladin entered into the holy city, says
Rigord, the monks of Argenteuil saw the moon descend from heaven upon
the earth, and then reascend to heaven. In many churches the crucifixes
and images of the saints shed tears of blood in the presence of the
faithful. A Christian knight had a dream, in which he saw an eagle
flying over an army, holding in his claws seven javelins, and uttering
in an intelligible voice, _Evil be to Jerusalem_.[313]
Every one accused himself of having brought down the vengeance of
Heaven by his own offences; and all the faithful sought to appease
by penitence a God whom they believed to be irritated. “The Lord,”
said they among themselves, “has poured out the floods of his wrath,
and the arrows of his anger are bathed in the blood of his servants.
Let our whole life pass away in mourning, since we have heard a voice
complaining on the mountain of Sion, and the children of the Lord are
scattered.” The sacred orators addressed God himself, and made the
churches resound with their invocations and prayers. “O powerful God!”
cried they, “thy hand has armed itself for the triumph of thy justice.
Filled with tears, we come to implore thy goodness, in order that
thou mayest remember thy people, and that thy mercies may exceed our
miseries; deliver not over thy heritage to shame; and let the angels of
peace obtain the fruits of penitence for Jerusalem.”
The Christian world was for a moment changed. Whilst weeping for the
loss of the tomb of Christ, people recalled the precepts of the holy
Scriptures, and became all at once better. Luxury was banished from
cities; injuries were forgotten, and alms were given abundantly.
Christians slept upon ashes, clothed themselves in hair-cloth, and
expiated their disorderly lives by fasting and mortification. The
clergy set the example; the morals of the cloisters were reformed, and
cardinals, condemning themselves to poverty, promised to repair to the
Holy Land, supported on charity by the way.
These pious reformations did not last long; but men’s minds were not
the less prepared for a new crusade by them, and all Europe was soon
roused by the voice of Gregory VIII., who exhorted the faithful to
assume the cross and take up arms. The first care of the sovereign
pontiff was to re-establish peace among Christian nations; and with
that view he repaired to Pisa, to endeavour to terminate the angry
disputes that had arisen between the Pisans and the Genoese. Gregory
died without finishing the work he had begun, and left the direction of
the crusade to his successor, Clement III., who, immediately after his
accession to the pontifical throne, ordered prayers for the peace of
the West and the deliverance of the land of the pilgrims.
William,[314] archbishop of Tyre, had quitted the East to come into
Europe to solicit the assistance of the Christian princes, and was
charged by the pope to preach the holy war. William was more able and
more eloquent than Heraclius, who had preceded him in this mission,
and, further, more worthy by his virtues of being the interpreter
of the Christians, and to speak in the name of Christ. After having
awakened the zeal of the nations of Italy, he repaired to France,
and was present at an assembly convoked near Gisors, by Henry II. of
England, and Philip Augustus of France. On the arrival of William,
these two kings, who were at war for the country of Vexin, laid down
their arms. The bravest warriors of France and England, united by the
dangers of their brothers of the East, came to the assembly whose
object was the deliverance of the holy places. William was received
with enthusiasm, and read with a loud voice, to the princes and
knights, an account of the taking of Jerusalem by Saladin. After this
reading, which drew tears from all the assembly, William exhorted the
faithful to take the cross. “The mountain of Sion,” said he, “still
resounds with the words of Ezekiel: _O children of men, remember that
day in which the king of Babylon triumphed over Jerusalem_! In one
single day all the evils that the prophets announced fell upon the
city of David and Solomon. That city, filled by all Christian nations,
remains now alone, or rather is only inhabited by a sacrilegious
people. The queen of nations, the capital of so many provinces, has
paid the tribute imposed upon slaves. All her gates have been broken,
and her guardians exposed with cattle in the markets of infidel
cities. The Christian states of the East, which caused the religion
of the cross to flourish in Asia, and formed the bulwark of the West
against the invasions of the Saracens, are reduced to the cities of
Tyre, Antioch, and Tripoli. We have seen, according to the expression
of Isaiah, the Lord extending his hand and its inflictions from the
Euphrates to the torrent of Egypt. The inhabitants of forty cities
have been driven from their homes, despoiled of their wealth, and are
now wandering with their weeping families among the nations of Asia,
_without finding a stone whereon to lay their heads_.”
After having thus described the misfortunes of the Christians of the
East, William reproached the warriors who listened to him, with not
having come to the aid of their brethren, and with having allowed the
heritage of Christ to be taken from them. He was astonished that they
could entertain another thought, that they could seek any other glory
than that of delivering the holy places; and addressing himself to the
princes and knights: “To meet you here,” said he, “I have traversed
fields of carnage; nay, within sight even of this assembly I have seen
preparations for war: what blood is it you have shed, what blood is
it you are about to shed again? Why are you armed with these swords?
You are fighting here for the banks of a river, for the limits of a
province, or for a transient renown, whilst infidels trample the banks
of Siloë, whilst they invade the kingdom of God, and whilst the cross
of Christ is dragged ignominiously through the streets of Bagdad. You
shed torrents of blood for vain treaties, whilst the very Gospel,
that solemn treaty between God and men, is being outraged. Have you
forgotten the deeds of your fathers? A Christian kingdom was founded
by them in the midst of Mussulman nations. A crowd of heroes, a crowd
of princes born in your country, went to defend and govern it. If you
have permitted their work to perish, come at least and deliver their
tombs, which are in the power of the Saracens. Does your Europe no
longer produce such warriors as Godfrey, Tancred, and their companions?
The prophets and saints buried at Jerusalem, the churches transformed
into mosques, the very stones of the sepulchres, all cry to you to
avenge the glory of God and the death of your brethren. What! why, the
blood of Naboth, the blood of Abel which arose towards heaven, found
avengers, and shall the blood of Christ arise in vain against his
enemies and his executioners?
“The East has beheld base Christians, whom avarice and fear have
rendered the allies of Saladin; I do not suspect they will find
imitators among you; but remember what Christ has said: ‘_He who is not
for me is against me._’ If you do not defend the cause of God, what
cause will you dare defend? If the king of heaven and earth find you
not beneath his colours, where are the powers whose standards you will
follow? Why then are the enemies of God no longer the enemies of all
Christians? What will be the joy of the Saracens amidst their impious
triumphs, when they shall be told that the West has no more warriors
faithful to Christ, and that the princes and kings of Europe have
learnt with indifference the disasters and captivity of Jerusalem?”
These reproaches made in the name of religion affected the hearts
of the princes and knights deeply. Henry II. and Philip Augustus,
to that time implacable enemies, embraced each other in tears, and
put themselves forward the first to receive the cross. Richard, duke
of Guienne, son of Henry, Philip, count of Flanders, Hugh, duke of
Burgundy, Henry, count of Champagne, Thibaut, count of Blois, Retrou,
count of Perche, the counts of Nevers, de Bar, Vendôme, Soissons,
the two brothers Josselin and Matthew de Montmorency, with a crowd
of barons and knights, together with several bishops of France and
England, all took the oath to deliver the Holy Land. The whole
assembly shouted the words “_the Cross! the Cross!_” and this war-cry
soon resounded through all the provinces. The spot on which the
faithful met was afterwards called the _sacred field_, and a church
was built upon it to preserve the remembrance of the pious devotion
of the Christian knights. As money was wanting to carry out the holy
enterprise, it was resolved in the council of the princes and bishops
that all who did not take the cross should pay a tenth part of their
revenues and of the value of their property of all kinds. The terror
which the arms of Saladin had inspired, caused the name of the _Saladin
tithe_ to be given to this tax. Excommunications were published against
all such as refused to pay a debt so sacred. In vain the clergy, of
whom Peter of Blois undertook the defence, alleged the liberty and
independence of the Church, and pretended they could not be called
on to assist the Crusaders otherwise than by their prayers; the
ecclesiastics were told that they ought to set the example, that the
clergy was not the Church, and that the wealth of the Church belonged
to Christ. The orders of the Chartreux, of Citeaux and Fontevrault,
with the hospital for lepers, were all that were exempt from a tribute
raised for a cause which was believed to be that of all Christians.[315]
In the two first crusades, the greater part of the villagers who had
taken the cross, had done so to emancipate themselves from slavery.
Some disorders naturally resulted from this; the country was deserted,
the lands were uncultivated; in this crusade means were taken to set
bounds to the too forward zeal of the labourers: all serfs who enrolled
themselves for the holy war, without the permission of their lords,
were condemned to pay the Saladin tithe, as if they had not taken the
cross.[316]
Notwithstanding all this excitement, the peace which had been sworn
to by the kings of France and England was not long held sacred.
Richard, who was duke of Guienne, having had a quarrel with the count
of Thoulouse, Henry took up arms to assist his son. Philip flew to the
defence of his vassal; and Normandy, Berry, and Auvergne were soon in a
blaze. The two monarchs, urged by the solicitations of the nobles and
bishops, met for a moment in the sacred field in which they had laid
down their arms, but they could not agree upon the conditions of the
peace; and the elm-tree under which they held their conference, was
cut down by the orders of Philip. Negotiations were renewed several
times without putting a stop to the war. The king of France required
that Richard should be crowned king of England, in the lifetime of his
father, and that he should espouse Alice, a French princess, whom Henry
detained in prison. The king of England, jealous of his authority,
could not consent to accept these conditions; and would neither yield
up his crown nor the sister of Philip, of whom he was enamoured.
Richard, irritated by his father’s refusal, threw himself into the
party of Philip Augustus, and declared openly against Henry; on all
sides they flew to arms, and the produce of the Saladin tithe was
employed to carry on a sacrilegious war, which outraged both morality
and nature.
This war was not a good augury for that which was about to be
undertaken in Asia: the pope’s legate excommunicated Richard, and
threatened Philip with placing his kingdom under an interdict. Philip
despised the menaces of the legate, and told him that the Holy See
had no right to meddle with the quarrels of princes; Richard, still
more violent, drew his sword, and was on the point of cutting down the
legate. Peace seemed every day to be at a greater distance; in vain
cries of indignation arose from the people; in vain the great vassals
refused to take part in a quarrel which interested neither religion
nor country. Henry, who consented to an interview, still haughtily
rejected the conditions that were proposed to him. He resisted for a
long time both the prayers of his subjects and the counsels of the
bishops; and the terror only with which the thunder of Heaven, which
fell by his side during the conference, inspired him, could overcome
his obstinacy. He at length accepted Philip’s conditions, but soon
repented of his acquiescence; and shortly after died of grief, leaving
his maledictions to Richard, who had made open war against him, and to
his youngest son, who had engaged in a conspiracy against him.
Richard accused himself of the death of his father, and, pressed by
repentance, he remembered the vow he had made in the sacred field.
Now become king of England, he began seriously his preparations for
the holy expedition. He repaired to his kingdom, and convoked, near
Northampton, an assembly of the barons and prelates, in which Baldwin,
archbishop of Canterbury, preached the crusade. The preacher of the
holy war then went through the provinces of England to raise the zeal
and emulation of the faithful.[317] Miraculous adventures attested the
sanctity of his mission, and brought under the banners of the cross the
wild and credulous inhabitants of Wales, and several other countries
where the misfortunes of Jerusalem had never been heard of.
The enthusiasm of the English for this crusade, manifested itself at
first by a violent persecution of the Jews, great numbers of whom
were massacred in the cities of London and York. A vast many of these
unfortunate people found no means of escape from their persecutors
but in a self-inflicted death. These horrible scenes were renewed
every crusade. When money was required for the holy expedition, it was
perceived that the Jews were the depositaries of the general wealth;
and the knowledge of the treasures accumulated in their hands, seemed
to lead the people to remember that it was they who had crucified their
God.
Richard did not take much pains to repress the misguided multitude,
but availed himself of the persecution of the Jews to increase his own
treasures. But neither the spoils of the Jews, nor the produce of the
Saladin tithe, for the non-payment of which the English were threatened
with imprisonment, at all satisfied the king of England. Richard
alienated the domains of the crown, and put to sale all the great
dignities of the kingdom; he would sell, he said, the city of London,
if he could find a purchaser. He went afterwards into Normandy, where
the “Estates” permitted him to exhaust that rich province, and gave him
full means to support a war in which the whole people took so great an
interest.
A great number of warriors assumed the cross in France and England,
and the preparations for the crusade were finished amidst general
fermentation. Many barons and lords, however, did not announce the
period of their departure, and delayed, under various pretexts, the
pilgrimage to which they had engaged themselves by oath. The celebrated
Peter of Blois, addressed a pathetic exhortation to them, in which he
compared them to reapers who put off beginning their work until the
harvest was finished. The orator of the holy war represented to them
that strong and courageous men found a country everywhere, and that
true pilgrims ought to resemble the birds of heaven.[318] He recalled
to their ambition the example of Abraham, who abandoned his home to
elevate himself among the nations, who crossed the Jordan with a staff
only, and returned followed by two troops of warriors. This exhortation
revived the ardour for the crusade, which had evidently begun to cool.
The monarchs of France and England had an interview at Nonancourt,
where they agreed to proceed to Palestine by sea. They made, at the
same time, several regulations to secure order and discipline in the
armies they were about to lead into Asia. The laws of religion, and the
penalties that they inflict, did not appear to them sufficient in this
case. The justice of these barbarous ages was charged with the onerous
task of suppressing the passions and vices of the Crusaders: whoever
gave a blow, was to be plunged three times into the sea; he who struck
with the sword, had his hand cut off; he who abused another, gave to
the person he had offended as many ounces of silver as he had uttered
invectives; when a man was convicted of theft, boiling pitch was poured
upon his shaven head, it was then covered with feathers, and he was
abandoned on the nearest shore; a murderer, bound to the corpse of his
victim, was to be cast into the sea, or buried alive.
As the presence of women had occasioned many disorders in the first
crusade, they were forbidden to go to the Holy Land. Gambling with
dice, or other games of chance, together with profane swearing or
blasphemy, were strictly forbidden among the Crusaders; and luxury
of the table or in clothes was repressed by a law. The assembly of
Nonancourt made many other regulations, and neglected nothing likely to
bring back the soldiers of Christ to the simplicity and virtues of the
Gospel.
Whenever princes, nobles, or knights set out for the holy war, they
made their wills, as if they were certain never to return to Europe.
When Philip came back to his capital, he declared his last will, and
regulated, for the period of his absence, the administration of his
kingdom, which he confided to Queen Adela, his mother, and his uncle,
the Cardinal de Champagne. After having fulfilled the duties of a king,
he laid down the sceptre, to take, at St. Denis, the staff and scrip of
a pilgrim, and went to Vézelay, where he was to have another interview
with Richard. The two kings again swore an eternal friendship, and both
called down the thunders of the Church upon the head of him who should
break his oaths. They separated full of friendship for each other;
Richard hastened to embark at Marseilles, and Philip at Genoa. An
English historian remarks that they were the only kings of France and
England that ever fought together for the same cause; but this harmony,
the work of extraordinary circumstances, was not likely to exist long
between two princes acted upon by so many motives of rivalry. Both
young, ardent, brave, and magnificent; Philip the greater king, Richard
the greater captain; both animated by the same ambition and the same
passion for glory. Desire for renown, much more than piety, drew them
to the Holy Land: both haughty and prompt to revenge an injury, they
acknowledged, in their various differences, no other arbitrator or
judge but the sword: religion had not sufficient empire over their
minds to humble their pride, and each would have thought himself
degraded, if he had either demanded or accepted peace. To ascertain, at
a glance, how little hope could be founded on the union of these two
princes, it is only necessary to observe, that Philip, on ascending his
throne, had shown himself to be the most inveterate enemy of England,
and that Richard was the son of that Eleanor of Guienne, the first wife
of Louis VII., who, after the second crusade, had quitted her husband,
threatening France with her revenge.
After the conference of Gisors, the archbishop of Tyre repaired to
Germany, to solicit Frederick Barbarossa to take the cross. This prince
had signalized his valour in forty battles; a long and fortunate reign
had rendered his name illustrious; but his age recognised no glory as
true but that which was won in Asia. He wished to deserve the praises
of his pious contemporaries, and took up arms for the deliverance of
the Holy Land; he was, likewise, doubtless influenced by the scruples
which his quarrels with the pope had left upon his conscience, and by
his desire to perfect his reconciliation with the Holy See.
A general diet was assembled at Mayence. The nobles and prelates would
not allow Germany to remain indifferent to a cause which had inflamed
the zeal of the other nations of Europe. Frederick, whose devotion they
encouraged, descended from his throne, amidst general acclamations, and
received the sign of the Crusaders from the hands of the archbishop of
Tyre. His example was followed by his son, Frederick duke of Swabia;
Leopold duke of Austria, and Berthold duke of Moravia; Herman, marquis
of Baden, the count of Nassau, the bishops of Besançon, Munster,
Osnaburg, and Passau, with a crowd of barons and knights, likewise
swore to deliver the tomb of Christ.
The war against the infidels was preached in all the churches. Happy,
said the sacred orators, are they who undertake this holy voyage; more
happy are they who never return from it. Among the prodigies that
appeared to announce the will of Heaven, the miraculous vision of a
virgin of Lewenstein, is particularly mentioned. She had learnt the
conquest of Jerusalem on the very day that the Saracens had entered the
holy city, and rejoiced at the lamentable event, saying that it would
furnish a means of salvation for the warriors of the West.[319]
The multitude of those who presented themselves to receive the cross
was so great, that means were obliged to be taken to repress their
ardour. Frederick, who had followed his uncle Conrad in the second
crusade, was aware of the disorders and misfortunes that might result
from too great a number of followers. He refused to receive under
his banners any who could not take with them three marks of silver;
and rejected all such vagabonds and adventurers as had, in the other
expeditions, committed so many excesses, and dishonoured the cause of
the Christians by their brigandage.
Frederick, before his departure, sent ambassadors to the emperor
of Constantinople, and the sultan of Iconium, to demand freedom of
passage through their states; and wrote to Saladin, to declare war,
if he did not restore to the Franks Jerusalem and the other Christian
cities that had surrendered to his arms.[320] The embassy addressed
to Saladin, shows the spirit of chivalry in which Frederick entered
upon this crusade. That which, without doubt, induced him to address
the sultan of Iconium, was an opinion then spread through Europe, that
the Mussulman prince had evinced a desire of embracing the Christian
religion.[321] Frederick left Ratisbon at the head of an army of a
hundred thousand combatants, and crossed Hungary and Bulgaria, as the
first Crusaders had done. He arrived in the provinces of the Greek
empire before Richard and Philip had embarked for Palestine.
Isaac Angelus was then seated on the throne of Constantinople; this
prince had only been brave on one single day, and his courage procured
him an empire. Andronicus, the Nero of the Greeks, having been warned
by soothsayers that he would be dethroned by one of his subjects,
who bore the name of Isaac, desired to get rid of Isaac Angelus, and
sent one of his officers to conduct him to prison. Isaac, animated
by despair, instead of obeying, threw himself upon the minister of
Andronicus, struck him to the earth, and running into the public
streets, cried out: “_I have killed the devil! I have killed the
devil!_” Upon the report of this event spreading through the city,
the people assembled in crowds and proclaimed Isaac emperor. In vain
Andronicus endeavoured to quiet the storm; he was seized by his own
soldiers, and loaded with chains. Dragged through the streets by an
infuriated multitude, he underwent in one day more torments than he had
inflicted upon his enemies during all his reign, and Constantinople
beheld a populace a hundred times more barbarous than all her tyrants.
It was amidst these bloody and disgusting scenes that Isaac was clothed
with the imperial purple. He did not possess the savage character of
Andronicus, but he was entirely incapable of defending the empire
against its enemies. Instead of raising armies, he gathered together
in his palace a troop of monks, who kept up his sense of security by
their prayers, and turned his attention from the cares and duties of
state by their visions and prophecies. The mutual hatred of the Greeks
and Latins had increased under his reign and that of Andronicus. The
Latins who inhabited Constantinople were driven from the city, their
houses were given up to the flames, and a great number of them were put
to death. They who escaped the carnage took refuge in the vessels and
galleys, and made sanguinary reprisals on the islands and shores of the
Hellespont. The monks who surrounded Isaac partook of the blind hatred
entertained by the people for the Christians of the West, and dreaded
their vengeance. They advised the successor of Andronicus to mistrust
the emperor of Germany, and to betray him if he could not conquer him.
Faithful to their counsels, Isaac promised to entertain the Germans
in his states, and at the same time formed an alliance with Saladin.
He sent orders to his governors to harass the Crusaders, and even
to attack them by open force. These imprudent hostilities exposed
the weakness of the Greeks, and were of service to the Germans; for
Frederick, after having put the troops of Isaac to flight, took every
advantage of his victory. Isaac, constantly intoxicated by the incense
of his courtiers, and seduced by the promises of the monks, only
replied to the victories of Frederick by letters full of haughtiness
and menaces; he refused to acknowledge him as emperor, and could see
nothing but a vassal in a prince who was marching in triumph towards
his capital. Whilst his subjects were from all parts flying before
the Germans, he gave himself in his letters the titles of _most
sublime, most powerful emperor, the angel of the whole earth_; and
caused the ambassadors of Frederick to be imprisoned. The patriarch of
Constantinople preached, by his orders, in the church of St. Sophia,
the murder of the Latins.
Nevertheless, terror at length took possession of the heart of Isaac,
and from that moment this prince altered the tone of his language,
and became the most humble of suppliants. Frederick was now for him,
_the most virtuous emperor of the Germans_, and he voluntarily granted
him much more than he had before refused him. After having required
hostages, he himself gave them, and fed during several months an army
he had sworn to destroy. He endured without a murmur the violences
which the Crusaders committed in their passage, and treated an army
that laid waste his provinces as if they had saved his empire. The
emperor of Germany received magnificent presents, and all the vessels
of the Greek navy were employed in transporting the Crusaders into Asia.
The Germans embarked at Gallipoli, and crossed the Hellespont. The
sight of the coasts of Asia, and the easy victories they had obtained
over the Greeks, made them forget the obstacles and dangers of a long
and painful march. They saw nothing in the regions they were about to
traverse but laurels to be gathered and kingdoms to be destroyed or
founded; but it was not long ere this brilliant prospect disappeared.
Whilst they remained in the territories of Isaac, they had to suffer
from the perfidy of the Greeks; and when they arrived among the Turks,
they had fresh enemies to contend with. The sultan of Iconium, who had
been as liberal of his promises as the emperor of Constantinople, did
not prove at all more faithful to his word. When the Germans arrived
on the banks of the Meander, near Laodicea, they found the Turks drawn
up in order of battle upon the heights, and ready to surprise them in
the defiles: the latter were, however, punished for the treachery of
their master, and cut to pieces; their bodies covered the passages they
had been charged to defend.
The Crusaders, ever persuaded that Heaven protected their arms,
attributed this victory to miracles. Several knights declared, upon
oath, that they had seen St. George and St. Victor,[322] clothed in
white, and armed with lances, fighting at the head of the Christians;
but the celestial powers that had thus enabled the Germans to triumph
over the arms of their enemies, did not destroy the obstacles which
impeded the march of their victorious army. The Crusaders soon felt
the want of provisions in a country ravaged at the same time by the
conquerors and the conquered. Snow, rain, and the rigours of winter
rendered their march exceedingly painful through a mountainous region,
intersected by torrents that had overflowed their banks. Hunger and
disease destroyed a great number of the soldiers. To remedy the evils
which threatened his army with entire ruin, Frederick was obliged to
attack Iconium, the very capital in which he had expected to find peace
and all the provisions he stood in need of.
At the first signal the ramparts were scaled; Iconium was taken by
assault, and given up to pillage. The beaten sultan then fulfilled his
promises, and this last victory restored abundance in the Christian
army.
From this time the Germans spread terror in every country around them.
The Armenians solicited their alliance, and the independent tribes of
the Turcomans, on several occasions, felt the effects of their courage.
During their triumphal march they attracted the admiration of the
natives by their discipline; and the emirs, charged with announcing
their arrival to Saladin, praised their indomitable valour in fight,
and their heroic patience in the labours and fatigues of war.
The leader of this formidable army had conquered several nations, and
dictated laws to two empires, without having yet done anything towards
the aim of his enterprise. After having crossed Mount Taurus, near
Laurenda, he had resumed his march towards Syria at the beginning of
spring, and was proceeding along the banks of the river Selef.[323]
Attracted by the freshness and limpidity of the waters, he wished to
bathe; but, seized all at once by a mortal coldness, he was dragged
out insensible, and soon after died, humbly bowing to the will of God,
who would not allow him to behold the land he was going to defend. His
death was more fatal to his army than the loss of a great battle; all
the Germans wept for a chief who had so often led them to victory, and
whose name alone was the terror of the Saracens. The bones of this
unfortunate monarch were preserved for the purpose of being buried in
that Jerusalem he had sworn to deliver, but in which he could not even
obtain a tomb. William, who had been to preach the crusade in Europe,
buried the remains of Frederick in the city of Tyre, and pronounced the
funeral oration of the most powerful monarch of the Christians.
After the death of Frederick, grief weakened the courage of his
soldiers; some deserted the banners of the crusade, whilst the
others listlessly and sadly continued their march under the orders
of Frederick, duke of Swabia, who reminded them of the virtues of
his father, but was unable to lead them to victory. The contests they
still had to maintain against the Saracens, together with hunger,
fatigue, and disease, reduced the army of the Germans to six or seven
hundred horse, and about five thousand foot. This miserable wreck of
a formidable army crossed Syria; and the report of their disasters
having preceded them, their arrival must have created more terror than
confidence among the Christians, who were then carrying on the siege of
Ptolemaïs.