The Third Crusade
It will be remembered that the second Crusade, under Conrad III, was
disastrous to the Christians in the Holy Land. The discords which
everywhere prevailed and the wranglings and jealousies of Templars and
Knights of Saint John were not unwelcome to the Turks. There appeared
among the latter about that time the mighty hero, Saladin, of Kurdish
origin.
He was sent with an army by the vizier Noureddin to Egypt, where he
achieved such success as a leader that he made his preparations to
dispute the sovereignty of that country with his master, but the
latter’s sudden death rendered his plans unnecessary. He became Sultan
of Egypt and ruler of the whole country from Cairo to Aleppo, so that
his possessions inclosed the kingdom of Jerusalem in a half circle. Such
an enemy would have been dangerous to a much stronger city, and was all
the more dangerous to the weak kingdom of Jerusalem because it could not
rely upon concert of action for its defence. Individual leaders
contended with their powerful enemy and performed deeds of heroism
worthy to be compared with those of the first Crusade, but they were to
no purpose. These warriors were glad when a truce was made, but they
neglected during its continuance to prepare for the inevitable conflict.
They even went so far as to provoke the enemy. Rainald of Chatillon, a
Christian Knight, committed an audaciously violent act by robbing the
Sultan’s mother of her treasures while she was travelling through the
Christians’ possessions, and by killing her attendants; in revenge for
which Saladin attacked him. The Christian army was routed in a single
battle at Tiberias. Guy de Lusignan, King of Jerusalem[17] and Grand
Master of the Temple, and most of the knights were made prisoners, and
the whole country fell into the hands of the Sultan. The crosses were
torn from Christian churches; the emblems and vessels used in Christian
service were carried away, and Moslems assembled for prayer in the
Temple of Solomon.
The appeals of the Christians were heard in the West, and grew in
intensity as the deeds of the Turks increased in cruelty. And yet it was
Saladin’s purpose to avoid carnage. His severest demand was that each
man should pay ten gold pieces, each woman five, and each child one, for
ransom. Forty days were allowed for payment, and when the time expired
he magnanimously released two thousand Christians who could not procure
the money, as well as all the prisoners; and besides this he divided
nearly twenty thousand gold pieces among the enemy’s poor and sick.
Notwithstanding such generosity, the old war spirit was aroused in
Europe, as already related. Crusaders flocked from all sides to the army
which the Emperor was organizing. Every possible precaution was taken to
prevent another disaster. To rid the army of the rabble which had
followed it before, and which had hindered and annoyed it and plundered
at every opportunity, the Emperor ordered that no one should accompany
it who could not show at least three silver marks. He also concluded
agreements with Kilidj Arslan, Sultan of Iconium,[18] King Bela of
Hungary,[19] and Isaac Angelus,[20] the Emperor of Greece, and received
their assurances of help.
Frederick’s greatest anxiety was that peace and quiet should prevail in
the Empire during his absence. To secure this he destroyed many more of
the robber barons’ castles while on the march, and issued an order that
no one should begin hostile operations without giving three days’
notice. Henry the Lion was banished three years longer and submitted to
the penalty.
The expedition set out in imposing array for Regensburg,[21] April 23,
1189, the festival of Saint George. Whitsuntide was celebrated at
Presburg[22] and in front of Gran[23] the army awaited the arrival of
the Hungarian King with his brilliant following. The Emperor reviewed
his army before the city of Belgrade on the Hungarian frontier, and
found he had about fifty thousand knights and an equal number of
warriors of lower grades. Encouraged anew by fortune, which thus far had
been so favorable, and relying upon the great strength of his army,
Frederick prepared to lead his pilgrims to the Holy Land, confident that
he would wrest it from the infidels this time and permanently restore it
to the Christians.
We behold the Emperor Frederick seated in his tent in camp at Belgrade,
with the most famous of his princes and those leaders of his army who
were in his closest confidence. Among them is Conrad of Feuchtwangen,
whose sons Raymond and Conrad are standing at a respectful distance,
awaiting the Emperor’s orders. Owing to the Emperor’s affection for
their father they have had the good fortune to be selected as his pages.
After earnestly discussing the objects of the expedition and the best
means of securing them, they begin to talk of the assistance they might
expect from their allies.
“Let us wait,” said the Emperor, “until our messengers return, and we
learn what Isaac proposes to do.”
“Do you not fear, your Majesty, that he will violate his word?” asked
the Bishop of Mayence.
“What has happened once, or a thousand times, of course may happen now.
But it seems to me our messengers will know definitely when they
return.”
“We shall know for certain if they bring no message of peace.”
“In that case they would hurry back, I think, for that would clearly be
their duty. I suspect the Greeks will prove faithless.”
“It is almost certain,” said the Bishop of Passau. “Greeks cannot keep
faith.”
“It is not yet absolutely certain,” replied the Emperor, “and we must do
nothing rashly. Still, I confess I am not over hopeful, for, alas, too
often has the hatred between the members of the two Churches manifested
itself and brought harm to both.”
“Then let us attack at once,” cried the young Duke of Swabia,
Frederick’s second son. “Let us fall upon them like a thunderbolt out of
the clear sky, before they can make their preparations to help the
Turks.”
“Gently, my dear son,” said the Emperor. “You are carried away by
excitement. We can do nothing until we have actual proof of their
perfidy. Your ungovernable zeal would make an enemy of our ally if he
were not one already.”
“He is our enemy,” replied the Duke of Swabia. “My messenger who is at
hand will tell you so. Tired of the long delay, I despatched an alert
and trusty friend to get some news of your messengers. His speedy return
proves that my assertion is correct.”
All present turned their eyes to the door of the tent and saw a rider in
light armor dismounting from his panting steed. Coming into the tent, he
announced:
“Isaac is faithless. Our messengers are chained in dungeons because the
Emperor fears you are coming to take his empire from him. There is a
multitude of his troops in the distance, who have followed me.”
“His treachery is beyond all doubt,” exclaimed several of the princes.
“Let us act accordingly,” said the Emperor, with great seriousness. “As
we have not been notified of the dissolution of the alliance, we will go
to Constantinople and settle matters. So long as the people do not
manifest open hostility to us we will treat them as friends, but at the
same time keep in readiness to protect ourselves if we be attacked.”
“Let me lead the vanguard,” implored the Duke of Swabia.
“You are too young and hot-headed,” said the Emperor. “There is double
need for prudence and discretion in this emergency. Conrad, my old and
tried friend, you shall lead. It will not be the first time you have
been through the country, and you know the tricks which those people
play at times, while pretending to be friends. You are cautious enough
not to rush into unnecessary danger, and yet brave enough to protect
yourself against any assault. Above all, I would fain not see Christian
arrayed against Christian; but if it must be so, then we will clear the
enemies of Christendom from the way with our good swords.”
“I thank your Majesty,” replied Conrad, “for this unexpected honor,
which I hardly ventured to ask in the presence of so many noble princes,
renowned for their valor and good judgment. I will ask but one favor.
Allow my sons to go with me.”
“It is granted. And now to our work.”
The council of war was ended. The vanguard left at once, and the
remainder of the army followed at intervals.
Conrad’s belief in Isaac’s treachery was confirmed at the very outset.
He not only did not find the new bridges which should have been built,
but the old ones had been purposely destroyed. The mountain passes were
obstructed, and hordes of Bulgarians harassed the gallant little band on
all sides with poisoned arrows. Several stragglers were killed, and one
of the prisoners admitted that they had been employed and paid by Isaac
for this shameful work.
Conrad at once changed his plans. He began hostile operations, and
informed the Emperor of the condition of affairs. Philippopolis[24] was
found to be without a garrison and almost depopulated, but the Greek
troops in its vicinity made no concealment of their hostility. Frequent
encounters took place, in which the invaders were successful, and at
last Isaac was forced to submit and release the messengers he had
treacherously imprisoned; but he still remained hostile. The patriarch
of Constantinople, indeed, stated in a sermon that any one who killed a
hundred Germans should have absolution for ten murders.
The Emperor was infuriated by this. He fell upon the hypocritical knaves
and scattered them in wild flight. Adrianople[25] was easily taken, and
Demotika[26] surrendered to his son after the first assault.
Conrad, who was continually at the front, had the hardest tasks. The
Greeks harassed him in great numbers, but never ventured to meet his
little force, man to man. He and his Germans, who never seemed to weary,
performed prodigies of valor, and his young sons had plenty of
opportunity to show their knightly prowess. Upon one occasion they
rushed to the defence of their father when he was hard pressed, and at
another they hurled themselves upon the cowards and displayed the
highest type of knightly gallantry. Victory followed the Crusaders
everywhere. Isaac soon realized that he was no match for his adversary,
and that, while the Greeks were very courageous when shooting poisoned
arrows at safe distances, they dared not face German swords. He
abandoned his policy therefore, and a new agreement was made, for
Frederick was anxious not to waste his strength and lose time. Isaac
promised free passage and the necessary supplies, as well as
transportation for the Crusaders over the Hellespont, and Frederick
agreed to maintain discipline, so that none of the country people should
be harmed.
It is little wonder, however, that after so many exhibitions of
treachery the Crusaders had no confidence in the renewed alliance, and
took unusual precautions. They rested after the day’s hard exertions,
partly mailed and with their weapons close at hand. They did not think
themselves any too secure, even when surrounded by guards on all sides.
If two or three of the Crusaders discussed any matter, they made sure
that no Greeks were near, and war councils were always held in the most
secret manner. The Emperor’s confidants alone were acquainted with his
plans. No one was trusted whose faithfulness had not been proved. This
was not because there was any fear of traitors in the German army, but
because a thoughtless person might let slip a word which would arouse
the malice or excite the cunning of the enemy.
Their stay among these faithless people was a hard trial to the honest,
high-minded German knights. It galled them to have to protect themselves
against an ally as if he were an open enemy. If he only had been one or
the other, friend or foe, they would have been better pleased. Hypocrisy
was unknown wherever German speech was heard. They would rather suffer
from honesty than profit from deceit in word or act.
The Greeks, on the contrary, were so thoroughly degenerate that they
were found now on the one side, now on the other, as one or the other
seemed to offer them the greater profit. Boasting their Christian
orthodoxy, they persecuted with deadly hatred and sought to exterminate
all who differed with them, so that they were as greatly detested in
western Europe as the Turks themselves. Indeed, they were so blind as
not to see that they were precipitating their own ruin when they, too
weak by themselves to resist the enemy of Christendom, were obstructing
those who were coming to its rescue.
It was impossible to convince either these unfortunate people or their
leaders of the fate impending over them. For a long time already, indeed
for centuries, they had been controlled and held together only by the
absolute and rigorous sway of their masters. They were not content even
with those mild and wise sovereigns who ruled by law. Indeed, most of
these as well as the tyrants died violent deaths. Sons, urged on by
intriguing friends, would dethrone their fathers. Incarcerations and
cruel tortures were of common occurrence, and, as so often happens in
this world, the very agency by which an undutiful son secured his
elevation brought about his ruin.
How could any one keep faith in such a country? Craft and dishonesty
were the only protection from harm. The person in authority was
treacherously flattered so long as it was of advantage; when he could no
longer subserve personal advantage he was forsaken, and the faithless
friend became the most malignant of enemies. How could such a people,
false to each other, be honest with strangers?
Such were the reasons for the continual distrust shown by the Germans,
and their longing to leave the country. As soon as all the preparations
for the crossing were completed they started for Asia, hoping to find
more regard for honesty among the Turks, or at least to meet them as
foes in the open field. The crossing occupied six days, and was made in
Grecian vessels. Even at the last moment the Greeks did everything to
obstruct it, and it was only the fear of force that restrained them from
violating their agreement and attacking the German rear.