CHAPTER XII.

THE FALL OF NICÆA.

The first objective chosen by the crusaders was Nicæa, a city sacred

with the memories of the first great ecumenical council of the Christian

church, in the time of Constantine. On their march the soldiers of the

cross were saddened by the continual sight of the decayed bodies of

those who had fallen in the ill-advised expedition of Peter and Walter.

A few survivors of this calamity, in rags and semi-starvation, came from

their hiding-places to welcome their brethren. Among them was the Hermit

himself. His tale of woe sharpened their zeal and encouraged their

caution against the skill and bravery of the enemy.

The Infidels were under the command of Kilidge-Arslan, Sultan of Roum,

still flushed with his slaughter of the first crusaders. He had

fortified Nicæa, and had gathered within and about its walls sixty

thousand men, drawn from all the provinces of Asia Minor and from

distant Persia. May 15, 1097, the Christians sat down before the place

and began the siege.

The crusading knights were clad in the hauberk, a coat of mail made of

rings of steel; all wore the casque, covered with iron for common

soldiers, with steel for untitled knights, and with silver to denote the

princely rank. Horsemen carried round, square, or kite-shaped shields;

footmen longer ones, made ordinarily of elm, which protected the entire

body. Helmets of steel or chain hoods covered the head. The weapons of

offence were the lance of ash tipped with steel, the sword, often of

enormous length and weight, to be wielded with both hands, the axe, the

mace, the poniard, the club, the sling, and, what at that time was a

novelty to the Turks and Greeks, the crossbow of steel, which Anna

Comnena called a “thoroughly diabolical device.” The knight’s horse was

usually a heavy beast, whose tough muscles were needed to carry the

weighty armament mounted upon his back, together with his own housings,

which consisted of a saddle plated with steel, gathered as a breastplate

in front and projecting backward so as to protect the flanks and loins.

The horse’s head was likewise hooded with metal, ornamented between the

eyes with a short, sharp pike like the horn of the unicorn. But,

notwithstanding the burden he carried, the knight acquired by discipline

a marvellous celerity of movement, often baffling the anticipation of

the most wary antagonist, while in the crash of conflict he bore down

his foe with superior weight. In the train of the crusading knight were

carried the materials for the erection of rams with which to batter down

walls, catapults to hurl huge rocks, and siege-castles, or movable

towers, which overtopped the opposing defences and were provided with

bridges to let down upon the walls.

The Turkish or Saracen soldier was more lightly accoutred. His horse was

of more slender mould, deep-winded, and fleet of limb. In the encounter

the rider depended upon the momentum acquired by celerity rather than

that of weight. The long but light spear, brandished rather than

couched, the crescent-shaped, slender, but well-tempered cimeter, the

shield of leather, made, where attainable, of rhinoceros’s hide rather

than of metal, the light bow, the quiver filled with nicely balanced

arrows, the many folds of the muslin turban which protected the head

from the Eastern sun—these made an almost ideal contrast with the

appearance of his Western antagonist when upon the march. The armor of

Christian and Moslem, so diverse, necessitated manœuvres in the battle

which in their first encounters were almost equally bewildering to both

contestants.

In the assault upon Nicæa the Christians numbered upward of a quarter of

a million men. Against them Kilidge-Arslan had at least one hundred

thousand and the advantage of the city fortifications. The place was

encircled with a double line of walls, surmounted by three hundred and

seventy towers, and guarded from approach by a deep canal or moat. On

the east high mountains obstructed the way; on the west and south the

Lake of Ascanius prevented attack, while it gave the besieged an outlet

to the sea, through which they could replenish their provisions and

ranks in spite of their foes.

The Christians were divided into nineteen different camps, representing

as many different nations. Their habit of fighting, not on extensive

battle lines, but in groups about the standards of their special

leaders, gave plausibility to the declaration of Kilidge-Arslan, as he

viewed the invaders from his mountain outlook, that “disorder reigned in

their army” and that their very numbers insured their defeat. With

tremendous vigor, he hurled his forces in two divisions upon the camps

of Godfrey and Raymond. The Christians were dislodged from their

defences as bowlders from their places by a spring freshet. It seemed

that they must be swept away in the impetuous torrent, but quickly the

tide of battle turned, and the Turks were driven back to their mountain

fortresses. Again they descended, but only to cover the field with their

dead, as the exhausted freshet leaves upon the ground it has inundated

the débris it brought down from the hills, while the rocks it assailed

still lie near the position where they sustained the assault. The

brutality that distempered the age was illustrated by the Christian

victors, who severed many heads from the bodies of the slain and slung

them as trophies from their saddle-bows. With ghoulish pride, they

hurled a thousand of them from their catapults into the city. One of

these “soldiers of the cross,” Anselme of Ribemont, wrote to the

Archbishop of Rheims: “Our men, returning in victory and bearing many

heads fixed upon pikes, furnished a joyful spectacle for the people of

God.”

One line of walls soon fell beneath the rams of the besiegers, but it

only revealed another within. The Christians dragged vessels overland

from Civitat (the modern Guemlik), and by night launched them upon the

Lake of Ascanius, thus cutting off reinforcement for the garrison within

the city. After seven weeks of almost incredible effort, Nicæa was about

to fall to the reward of its Latin conquerors, when suddenly there

appeared upon the ramparts numerous strange standards. To the amazement

of the Christians, these proved to be not those of the Turk, but of the

Greek. Alexius, conniving with the enemy, had surreptitiously introduced

into Nicæa a detachment of his own troops, and thus secured the

surrender to himself of what had been won by others. The rage of the

crusaders knew no bounds. With the price of their blood they had gained

nothing but the honor of their valor. Only the utmost discretion on the

part of the chieftains prevented the army from declaring war upon

Alexius and marching back to the capture of Constantinople. It

afterwards transpired that Alexius’s movement had been encouraged by

some of the leaders of the crusade, that their armies might not be

weakened by leaving garrisons to hold the captured places.

The age of the crusades · 第 12 / 45 章