long since a great multitude, also Crusaders, were suffered to
pass,--they robbed and murdered my people. Then came hundreds of
thousands who fell upon us--in revenge, they said, for the death of
their brethren, many of whom, in truth, had been justly slain by my
ill-treated subjects. How can I dare to let loose thy soldiers upon my
land?"
"Nay," said the just Godfrey, "I come not for war, or to avenge those
unhappy pilgrims,--God pardon them! They were but ignorant and misguided
peasants; for their leader, the monk, Peter, though a man of God, is
often too fierce in his zeal. I pledge thee my faith as a Christian that
thy land and thy people shall not suffer if thou let my army march
through Hungary."
Now Godfrey's speech and look were so noble and sincere that the king
put faith in his word, but as was the custom, demanded hostages,--the
duke's brother among the number. Baldwin demurred, saying aside to
Godfrey,--
"How do I know that thou canst hinder thy soldiers from plunder? And if
thou do not, my life is forfeit. Thou knowest that I risk it with joy
on the battlefield, but I care not to die a shameful death in this
barbarous land."
"And will it be a shameful death to die thus in aiding the march of the
deliverers to Jerusalem?" asked Godfrey, reproachfully. "Nay, say no
more; I myself will be hostage," and he turned toward the king. But
Baldwin, at this generous offer, was sorry and ashamed, and he said,--
"Not so, Godfrey, thou shalt not risk thy life; it is more precious than
mine. I will stay."
Thus it was arranged, and so potent was the influence of the beloved
leader that his men marched through Hungary harming neither land nor
people. At the border, Baldwin and the other hostages were returned, and
the king and his people, giving Godfrey abundant supplies, parted from
them in good-will and friendship.
* * * * *
Now when Godfrey neared Constantinople, he learned that Hugh, Duke of
Vermandois, brother to the King of France, and leader of an army of
Crusaders from that country, was held prisoner by the Greek emperor,
Alexius. The Duke of Lorraine sent at once to Alexius, demanding the
release of the French prince. Alexius immediately set free the captive
duke, whom in truth he had treated with much courtesy, and also
promised aid to Godfrey, and allowed his army to encamp near
Constantinople. Shortly after, however, the emperor made a move
indicating treachery. Godfrey at once sounded the trumpets and prepared
to assault the city; but when Alexius quickly sought peace, the placable
duke accepted his explanations and assurances of friendship. Then
Alexius entertained Godfrey with unheard-of splendor, and soon thought
so highly of the knight as to adopt him as a son, according to Eastern
custom.
Here the Duke of Lorraine was joined by other armies, one commanded by
Raymond, Count of Toulouse,--a tried warrior who had fought in youth
under the banner of the Cid; the other led by brave and crafty Bohemond,
Prince of Tarentum. In the host of Crusaders from France, Germany,
Italy, Spain, England, and even far-off Ireland, were many renowned
princes, prelates, and nobles: Adhemar, Bishop of Puy, the Pope's
legate; Robert, Duke of Normandy, the heroic and reckless son of William
the Conqueror; Count Robert of Paris, wild and ferocious; the gallant
Count of Flanders; Stephen of Blois, Count of Chartres; and the pure and
perfect knight, Tancred.
All these leaders Alexius flattered and cajoled with soft words and
magnificent gifts, promising them help and support on condition that
the cities in Asia Minor formerly belonging to his empire, if captured
by the Crusaders, be returned to him. But Alexius was a weak and
deceitful prince, caring naught for anything save his own interest, as
the Crusaders soon discovered. So it was without regret, in spite of his
sumptuous entertainment of them, that Godfrey and the other leaders took
leave of the Greek emperor and crossed the Bosphorus. This took some
time, for the immense armies numbered one hundred thousand knights on
horseback, clad in armor, five hundred thousand foot-soldiers, and
numerous priests, women, and little children. They outnumbered "the
sands of the sea, the leaves of the forest, the stars of heaven," writes
the daughter of Alexius.
This vast host soon encamped before the large city of Nicaea, its strong
walls and hundreds of towers swarming with Turks. Here, Godfrey's men
found, wandering in the desert, Peter the Hermit and a few wretched men
who had escaped when their companions were slaughtered by the Turks.
These few were the remnant of the hundred thousand pilgrims--men, women,
and children--whom the wild monk had undertaken to lead to Palestine
soon after the Council of Clermont. So numerous were the bones of these
slain Crusaders, near Nicaea, that the soldiers of Godfrey used them in
building the walls and divisions of his great camp before that city.
Scarcely had this camp been completed when the Sultan of Nicaea,
Kilidge-Arslan, the "Sword of the Lion," swept down from the mountain on
the Christian army. "Then the two armies joined, mingled, and attacked
each other with equal fury. Everywhere glittered casques and shields;
lances rung against cuirasses; the air resounded with piercing cries;
the terrified horses recoiled at the din of arms and the hissing of
arrows; the earth trembled under the tread of the combatants; and the
plain was for a vast space bristling with javelins."
Godfrey was here, there, everywhere, in the fiercest of the fight,
slaying the infidels on all sides. His high contempt of danger and death
inspired his men to fight with equal ardor. At last the Turks were
driven back, but they returned next day to the attack, nor did they
retreat until the Crusaders had slain four thousand of them. The heads
of these Turks were cut off and thrown over the walls of Nicaea, there to
inform the garrison of the Crusaders' victory and to frighten them into
surrender.
But the Turks held out long, in spite of the many brave assaults made by
the besiegers. In these attacks the Crusaders used many strange machines
of war,--great rams of wood to batter down the walls; ballistas for
casting stones, beams, and arrows; and catapults for throwing fire and
huge stones into the city.
The Turks had similar machines and also great iron hands with which they
reached down from the walls, seized the Crusaders, and drew them up into
the city. Then, killing these luckless captives and stripping the
bodies, the infidels would hurl them back by machines into the camp of
the Christians. These cruelties and the vengeance of the Crusaders made
the warfare very horrible.
Wonderful deeds were performed on both sides. A huge giant among the
Turks made himself admired and dreaded by his great skill and
extraordinary strength. With every cast of his javelin he slew an enemy,
and he destroyed scores of the besiegers by hurling down upon them great
masses of rock. One day he stood on the city wall and, single-handed,
held at bay a great number of Christians. While fighting, he shouted
defiance to the whole army of Crusaders, ridiculing them and grossly
insulting their religion. Hundreds of arrows flew at him, but still he
remained unhurt. Then Godfrey, who had been in another part of the
field, came rushing up to discover the cause of the tumult. The infidel,
poising an arrow, exclaimed,--
"Dog of a Christian, thou too shalt die! Let us see if thy crucified God
can save thee!"
Enraged at this insolence and blasphemy, Godfrey seized a cross-bow and
took aim quickly. Through the heart of the scoffing giant went the
arrow, and down into the ditch tumbled the dreaded infidel. Cries of
distress from the Turks and shouts of joy from the Christians greeted
this deed of the valiant Godfrey.
After seven weeks of almost continuous fighting, the Crusaders were on
the point of taking Nicaea, when to their astonishment they saw the
standard of Alexius raised on the city wall. The cunning Greek emperor,
learning that the city was about to surrender, had sent an envoy and
persuaded the Turks to deliver Nicaea to him. So the indignant Crusaders
received no reward for their hardships and valor. Swearing vengeance on
the emperor at some later day, they took up the march to Jerusalem.
Over mountains, beside deep precipices, through swift torrents, they
toiled, suffering agonies from heat, hunger, fatigue, and thirst. On
the plain of Dorylaeum, in Phrygia, part of the army under Bohemond,
Prince of Tarentum, was attacked by Kilidge-Arslan with two hundred
thousand Turks, and was on the verge of defeat when Godfrey, at the head
of a small body of knights, rushed to the rescue and put the Turks to
headlong flight. The conquerors found the camp of the enemy near by, and
took possession of large stores of provisions, tents, horses, camels,
and treasures of all kinds. Rejoicing, the leaders divided the spoils,
and after a short rest took up the march once more.
Soon the Crusaders suffered terribly, for only a land made waste met
their eyes,--smoking villages and crops swept away.
The "Sword of the Lion" had gone before and cut down and destroyed
everything in their path. The vengeful Turk had even poisoned the wells,
and in this desert country of Phrygia the pilgrims died by thousands.
The tender heart of Godfrey was wrung by the pitiable distress of his
people. All that was possible of help and comfort he gave them, but he
could not quench their thirst.
Almost in despair he sat in his tent one day, grieving bitterly, for the
moans of the suffering came to his ears.
[Illustration: "'Look, my lord, my dear lord! the hound hath found
water!' cried Sigier!"]
"O Christ, save Thy people," he prayed devoutly. Suddenly the hound of
his faithful squire, Sigier, bounded into the tent and threw himself
upon his master, who stood in sad silence near Godfrey.
"Look, my lord, my dear lord! the hound hath found water!" cried Sigier;
and, in truth, the paws of the dog were covered with wet sand.
Already, ere the two could step outside, they heard the wild shouts and
tumult of the people, racing madly in the tracks of the dogs. It was in
vain that Godfrey and the other leaders strove to check that multitude.
Dashing to the brink of the river so opportunely found by the dogs of
the camp, thousands threw themselves bodily into the water, many
drinking so greedily that they perished. Yet the timely discovery saved
the army from total destruction.
At last the almost exhausted host reached Antiochetta,--a city in a
fertile plain, where the Christians were kindly received. Here they
rested and regained the strength lost during their long and perilous
journey. Many of the surrounding cities sent supplies to Godfrey and the
other princes, and swore obedience to them.
In the midst of these pleasant happenings the army narrowly escaped a
terrible loss. Godfrey and a few companions went hunting one day, taking
their falcons and dogs. While the duke was riding in advance of his
comrades, he heard savage growls, then piteous cries of distress, "Help,
help, for the love of God!"
Galloping in the direction of the sounds, Godfrey soon came upon a
pilgrim engaged in a struggle with a huge bear. The poor man was about
to be killed. Drawing his sword, Godfrey spurred his horse fiercely on
the bear; but the steed, frightened by the sight of the strange beast
and its angry growls, reared back, and threw its rider to the ground. In
a moment, however, Godfrey was on his feet, and as the bear turned upon
him, met the attack with a mighty blow. Now a fearful struggle took
place; but finally, with a fierce thrust of his sword, Godfrey killed
the beast, just as Sigier and others, summoned by the pilgrim, came
hurrying up.
"Alas, my lord, you are wounded!" cried Sigier; and indeed so badly was
the knight hurt that he fainted away and was thought to be dead. The
soldiers were grieved beyond measure, and the camp resounded with
lamentations; great was the joy when it was found that Godfrey would
recover. For weeks, however, he had to be carried on a litter,--saved
by a miracle, said the people.
Now came the march over Mount Taurus, which was almost as difficult and
dangerous as that through the desert. Over one steep mountain, which the
Crusaders called "The Mountain of the Devil," there was only a narrow
footpath, up which the soldiers could scarcely scramble in single file.
Many horses lost their footing and fell over the precipice. Numbers of
the Crusaders became so weary that they threw away their arms; and many
were left to perish by the wayside, though Godfrey strove to have the
weak and exhausted carried forward by the strong.
But still struggling on bravely, the Christian host at last found
themselves before the rich and splendid city of Antioch. It was strongly
fortified with high walls and more than four hundred towers. Many of the
leaders thought that it would be prudent to wait to besiege the place
until spring, when new Crusaders were to arrive, and when the army would
not be exposed to famine and to the rains and tempests of the winter
season now approaching. But Godfrey spoke eloquently against this delay.
"Why," said he, "should we wait for others to come and share the
glories of this army without having shared its labors and dangers? It is
an insult to the army of Jesus Christ to think that they cannot endure
cold and rain and famine. Are we like those birds of passage which fly
away and conceal themselves on the approach of the bad season? Moreover,
abundance awaits us in the city of Antioch, which will soon open its
gates to us."
Moved by these brave words, the princes decided to begin the siege at
once. But the city held out; and when the winter came, the army suffered
most fearfully. A pestilence broke out, and thousands died of disease,
in addition to those who perished of hunger or were killed in daily
battles with the Turks.
The Crusaders had not time or space to bury their dead. Many deserted
the army. Peter the Hermit could not bear the hardships, and reproaches
of the suffering, and fled from the camp. He was pursued and brought
back by Tancred; and the soldiers, who had been as much astonished by
Peter's desertion as if "the stars had fallen from heaven," made him
swear on the Bible not to abandon them again.
Godfrey and the good Bishop of Puy strove earnestly to put heart into
the soldiers.
"God will soon deliver us," said the duke. "He has sent these
afflictions upon us because we took merit to ourselves for the victory
of Dorylaeum and gave not all the glory to Him." But in vain his hopeful
words; the army gave way to despair.
Long days of misery, each more wretched than the last, dragged slowly
by, when suddenly the courage of the Crusaders was revived by a great
victory. A body of the troops who had gone to the seaport of St. Simeon
to buy provisions was unexpectedly attacked by a body of Turks and
compelled to retreat. Godfrey, hearing of the battle, sallied forth and
defeated the enemy, but was attacked by a large force sent out from
Antioch. Then Turks and Crusaders battled desperately beneath the very
walls of Antioch and in sight of the people on its ramparts. The fight
was man to man, without order or plan. The Christian leaders all
performed wonderful deeds. Godfrey seemed to possess more than mortal
strength and valor. No enemy could stand against his attack; and before
the terrible stroke of his great sword, lances, helmets, and armor flew
to pieces.
A bold Saracen offered battle to Godfrey, and with the first blow dashed
to pieces the shield of the Christian knight. Enraged, Godfrey rose up
in his stirrups, and with all his force delivered such a mighty blow on
the shoulder of the Turk as to divide his body into two parts. One fell
to the ground, while the other part remained upright in the saddle. The
frightened horse rushed back into the city, where the horrible sight
added to the terror of the inhabitants.
So great was the number of Turks slain in this battle, that the people
of Antioch were greatly cast down, while the Crusaders renewed their
assaults with fresh vigor and spirit. Daily conflicts were fought, in
which many women took part. Even the children formed companies, and
challenged the Turkish boys to combat. These battles of the children
were watched with fierce interest by the Saracens on the city walls and
the Crusaders in their camp, each party cheering on its small champions.
At last the city became so reduced that it would doubtless soon have
surrendered had not the Crusaders imprudently consented to a truce.
While this truce was in force the soldiers gave themselves up to
rioting, and the Christian princes disputed among themselves, for there
was a spirit of rivalry among them, and some were haughty and
quarrelsome.
Bohemond received by mistake a magnificent tent sent by an Armenian
prince to the Duke of Lorraine. The Prince of Tarentum was very
avaricious and pretended that the gift was intended for him. Now the
Duke of Lorraine, though gentle and generous, and never haughty in his
bearing toward the other princes, was not at all meek, nor inclined to
suffer any trespass upon his rights or dignity. He at once demanded his
property of Bohemond in peremptory terms, and when refused, would have
seized it by force of arms, had not the prince, seeing that all sided
with Godfrey, reluctantly delivered the tent to him, its rightful owner.
While these disputes were going on, the people of Antioch had received
fresh supplies of provisions and arms, and now, refusing to surrender,
again resumed the conflict. Bohemond, however, had found a traitor
within the walls. This man, Phirous, had formerly been a Christian, but
had become a Mohammedan. He told Bohemond that Jesus Christ had appeared
to him and commanded him to betray the city into the hands of the
Christians. The leaders of the Crusade were not willing to win the city
by treachery, and for some time rejected the offer of Bohemond to lead
them into it by the aid of Phirous. But at last, in June, 1098, the
rumor that a vast army of Turks was approaching, led the princes to
consent to the stratagem.
On the night appointed by Phirous to admit the Crusaders, rain poured in
torrents, peals of thunder shook the air, lightning flashed
continuously, and the entire western sky was strangely illuminated. But
the Crusaders were undaunted by the storm. They even deemed it an omen
of success when a fiery comet flamed across the heavens. Silently,
stealthily, the appointed soldiers crept up close to the wall; but when
they found the frail rope-ladder, let down by Phirous, dangling against
the wall, a strange fright seized upon them. Not one made a move toward
it; all hesitated to dare the ascent. But Bohemond, as daring as he was
crafty and ambitious, soon shamed his men by setting foot on the ladder.
All followed and scrambled up to the tower where Phirous awaited them.
He yielded it to them, and then pointed out a gate that could easily be
forced. Into the city poured the Crusaders; and the people of Antioch,
waking in terror, were slaughtered or made prisoners. The city was soon
in the hands of the Crusaders, though the citadel, a strong tower on a
steep hill in the center of the town, could not be taken.
But scarcely had the victors ceased to rejoice over their conquest, when
they found themselves besieged in turn by an immense army under the
command of Kerbogha, Sultan of Mossoul, a celebrated Turkish warrior.
Then the Christians, with an enemy in their city and surrounded by
countless enemies without, endured the most dreadful hardships. Food
became so scarce that even the horses were eaten. Godfrey generously
shared his means with his soldiers, and was finally compelled to kill
his favorite war-horse for food. So wretched were the Christians that
many threw themselves over the battlements. Others deserted to the
enemy, letting themselves down at night by cords from the city walls.
These latter traitors were cursed most bitterly by their indignant
comrades for such base cowardice and were called in derision
"Rope-dancers." But truly it was only the stoutest hearts and strongest
bodies that could stand the misery to which the Crusaders were now
reduced. In spite of the brave efforts of Godfrey and some of the other
princes, most of the wretched people gave up all hope. They hid
themselves in their houses to await the end, and the silence of death
settled down upon the stricken city.
It is said that several of the leaders proposed to secure their own
safety by fleeing in the night from the beleaguered city, and were only
prevented from taking this step by the appeals of Adhemar and Godfrey,
who represented to them in strongest terms the everlasting disgrace that
such a step would bring upon them. Kerbogha had scornfully refused any
terms of surrender except "Death or captivity for all," and it seemed
that such must be the fate of the Crusaders, when the aspect of affairs
was suddenly changed by a miracle.
A priest, Bartholomew by name, announced that Saint Andrew had appeared
to him three times, saying,--
"Go to the church of my brother Peter in Antioch. Dig up the earth near
the altar, and there you will find the head of the lance that pierced
the side of our Redeemer. This sacred sign borne at the head of the army
shall deliver the Christians and pierce the heart of the infidels."
All the army believed in this vision, and after three solemn days of
fasting and praying, Bartholomew, in the presence of twelve priests and
knights, directed the workmen where to dig beneath the altar of the
church. All day the digging went on, while the great crowd outside
waited in silent impatience. At midnight, Bartholomew threw himself into
the hole, and soon reappeared, bearing a spear-head in his hand. The joy
of all was frantic, for they firmly believed that this holy relic would
insure them a victory. Famine and fear were forgotten! All demanded to
be led at once against the enemy.
The next day the gates of Antioch were thrown open, and the army marched
forth in solemn and imposing procession. At the head walked the priests,
bearing aloft the holy lance, and chanting, "Let the Lord arise and let
His enemies be scattered." The army followed in twelve divisions, each
led by one of the princes in such state as he could muster. Godfrey had
given away his all and rode a horse borrowed from the rich Raymond. Many
of the soldiers were without weapons and were so weak from want of food
that they could scarcely walk; yet their faith gave them courage, and
they surveyed the vast army of the Saracens with calm confidence in
victory,--for was not God himself with them? Not a sound was heard in
the ranks.
The Saracens, seeing this strange procession, at first supposed that the
Christians had come out to surrender; but soon perceiving their error,
they let fly a shower of arrows. A strong wind blew back these infidel
darts and seemed to the Crusaders yet another sign of heavenly favor;
and they awaited with renewed confidence the attack of the Turks. It
soon came. The bodyguard of Kerbogha, three thousand strong, both man
and horse clad in complete steel armor, hurled themselves against the
Christian ranks, beating down the soldiers with ponderous clubs armed
with steel points. Behind these warriors followed the immense host of
Saracens. The battle raged for some time without decided advantage on
either side, but the Sultan of Nice at last ordered burning flax to be
thrown among the bushes and grass of the plain. At once the blaze and
smoke surrounded the Christians. Stifled and confused, they fell back,
and the sultan was about to drive them from the field, when suddenly a
body of soldiers was seen descending the mountain-side, led by three
knights in glittering white armor.
"Behold," cried the Bishop of Puy, "the holy saints, George, Demetrius,
and Theodore, come to fight for us!"
To the Christians this sight gave irresistible valor. With a mighty
shout, "God wills it!" the army hurled itself as one man against the
Saracens. Nothing could withstand that inspired charge. The Turks fell
back, broke their ranks, and fled in terror, leaving a hundred thousand
dead.