Between the foaming jaws of the white torrent,
The skilful artist draws a sudden mound;
By level long he subdivides their strength,
Stealing the waters from their rocky bed,
First to diminish what he means to conquer;
Then, for the residue he forms a road,
Easy to keep, and painful to desert,
And guiding to the end the planner aim'd at.
THE ENGINEER
It would have been easy for Alexius, by a course of avowed suspicion,
or any false step in the manner of receiving this tumultuary invasion
of the European nations, to have blown into a flame the numerous but
smothered grievances under which they laboured; and a similar
catastrophe would not have been less certain, had he at once abandoned
all thoughts of resistance, and placed his hope of safety in
surrendering to the multitudes of the west whatsoever they accounted
worth taking. The Emperor chose a middle course; and, unquestionably,
in the weakness of the Greek empire, it was the only one which would
have given him at once safety, and a great degree of consequence in the
eyes of the Frank invaders and those of his own subjects. The means
with, which he acted were of various kinds, and, rather from policy
than inclination, were often stained with falsehood or meanness;
therefore it follows that the measures of the Emperor resembled those
of the snake, who twines himself through the grass, with the purpose of
stinging insidiously those whom he fears to approach with the step of
the bold and generous lion. We are not, however, writing the History of
the Crusades, and what we have already said of the Emperor's
precautions on the first appearance of Godfrey of Bouillon, and his
associates, may suffice for the elucidation of our story.
About four weeks had now passed over, marked by quarrels and
reconcilements between the crusaders and the Grecians of the empire.
The former were, as Alexius's policy dictated, occasionally and
individually, received with extreme honour, and their leaders loaded
with respect and favour; while, from time to time, such bodies of them
as sought distant or circuitous routes to the capital, were intercepted
and cut to pieces by light-armed troops, who easily passed upon their
ignorant opponents for Turks, Scythians, or other infidels, and
sometimes were actually such, but in the service of the Grecian
monarch. Often, too, it happened, that while the more powerful chiefs
of the crusade were feasted by the Emperor and his ministers with the
richest delicacies, and their thirst slaked with iced wines, their
followers were left at a distance, where, intentionally supplied with
adulterated flour, tainted provisions, and bad water, they contracted
diseases, and died in great numbers, without having once seen a foot of
the Holy Land, for the recovery of which they had abandoned their
peace, their competence, and their native country. These aggressions
did not pass without complaint. Many of the crusading chiefs impugned
the fidelity of their allies, exposed the losses sustained by their
armies as evils voluntarily inflicted on them by the Greeks, and on
more than one occasion, the two nations stood opposed to each other on
such terms that a general war seemed to be inevitable.
Alexius, however, though obliged to have recourse to every finesse,
still kept his ground, and made peace with the most powerful chiefs,
under one pretence or other. The actual losses of the crusaders by the
sword he imputed to their own aggressions--their misguidance, to
accident and to wilfulness--the effects produced on them by the
adulterated provisions, to the vehemence of their own appetite for raw
fruits and unripened wines. In short, there was no disaster of any kind
whatsoever which could possibly befall the unhappy pilgrims, but the
Emperor stood prepared to prove that it was the natural consequence of
their own violence, wilfulness of conduct, or hostile precipitancy.
The chiefs, who were not ignorant of their strength, would not, it was
likely, have tamely suffered injuries from a power so inferior to their
own, were it not that they had formed extravagant ideas of the wealth
of the Eastern empire, which Alexius seemed willing to share with them
with an excess of bounty as new to the leaders as the rich productions
of the East were tempting to their followers.
The French nobles would perhaps have been the most difficult to be
brought into order when differences arose; but an accident, which the
Emperor might have termed providential, reduced the high-spirited Count
of Vermandois to the situation, of a suppliant, when he expected to
hold that of a dictator. A fierce tempest surprised his fleet after he
set sail from Italy, and he was finally driven on the coast of Greece.
Many ships were destroyed, and those troops who got ashore were so much
distressed, that they were obliged to surrender themselves to the
lieutenants of Alexius. So that the Count of Vermandois, so haughty in
his bearing when he first embarked, was sent to the court of
Constantinople, not as a prince, but as a prisoner. In this case, the
Emperor instantly set the soldiers at liberty, and loaded them with
presents. [Footnote: See Mills' History of the Crusades, vol. i, p. 96]
Grateful, therefore, for attentions in which Alexius was unremitting,
Count Hugh was by gratitude as well as interest, inclined to join the
opinion of those who, for other reasons, desired the subsistence of
peace betwixt the crusaders and the empire of Greece. A better
principle determined the celebrated Godfrey, Raymond of Thoulouse, and
some others, in whom devotion was something more than a mere burst of
fanaticism. These princes considered with what scandal their whole
journey must be stained, if the first of their exploits should be a war
upon the Grecian empire, which might justly be called the barrier of
Christendom. If it was weak, and at the same time rich--if at the same
time it invited rapine, and was unable to protect itself against it--it
was the more their interest and duty, as Christian soldiers, to protect
a Christian state, whose existence was of so much consequence to the
common cause, even when it could not defend itself. It was the wish of
these frank-hearted men to receive the Emperor's professions of
friendship with such sincere returns of amity--to return his kindness
with so much usury, as to convince him that their purpose towards him
was in every respect fair and honourable, and that it would be his
interest to abstain from every injurious treatment which might induce
or compel them to alter their measures towards him.
It was with this accommodating spirit towards Alexius, which, for many
different and complicated reasons, had now animated most of the
crusaders, that the chiefs consented to a measure which, in other
circumstances, they would probably have refused, as undue to the
Greeks, and dishonourable to themselves. This was the famous
resolution, that, before crossing the Bosphorus to go in quest of that
Palestine which they had vowed to regain, each chief of crusaders would
acknowledge individually the Grecian Emperor, originally lord paramount
of all these regions, as their liege lord and suzerain.
The Emperor Alexius, with trembling joy, beheld the crusaders approach
a conclusion to which he had hoped to bribe them rather by interested
means than by reasoning, although much might be said why provinces
reconquered from the Turks or Saracens should, if recovered from the
infidel, become again a part of the Grecian empire, from which they had
been rent without any pretence, save that of violence.
Though fearful, and almost despairing of being able to manage the rude
and discordant army of haughty chiefs, who were wholly independent of
each other, Alexius failed not, with eagerness and dexterity, to seize
upon the admission of Godfrey and his compeers, that the Emperor was
entitled to the allegiance of all who should war on Palestine, and
natural lord paramount of all the conquests which should be made in the
course of the expedition. He was resolved to make this ceremony so
public, and to interest men's minds in it by such a display of the
imperial pomp and munificence, that it should not either pass unknown,
or be readily forgotten.
An extensive terrace, one of the numerous spaces which extend along the
coast of the Propontis, was chosen for the site of the magnificent
ceremony. Here was placed an elevated and august throne, calculated for
the use of the Emperor alone. On this occasion, by suffering no other
seats within view of the pageant, the Greeks endeavoured to secure a
point of ceremony peculiarly dear to their vanity, namely, that none of
that presence, save the Emperor himself, should be seated. Around the
throne of Alexius Comnenus were placed in order, but standing, the
various dignitaries of his splendid court, in their different ranks,
from the Protosebastos and the Caesar, to the Patriarch, splendid in
his ecclesiastical robes, and to Agelastes, who, in his simple habit,
gave also the necessary attendance. Behind and around the splendid
display of the Emperor's court, were drawn many dark circles of the
exiled Anglo-Saxons. These, by their own desire, were not, on that
memorable day, accoutred in the silver corslets which were the fashion
of an idle court, but sheathed in mail and plate. They desired, they
said, to be known as warriors to warriors. This was the more readily
granted, as there was no knowing what trifle might infringe a truce
between parties so inflammable as were now assembled.
Beyond the Varangians, in much greater numbers, were drawn up the bands
of Grecians, or Romans, then known by the title of Immortals, which had
been borrowed by the Romans originally from the empire of Persia. The
stately forms, lofty crests, and splendid apparel of these guards,
would have given the foreign princes present a higher idea of their
military prowess, had there not occurred in their ranks a frequent
indication of loquacity and of motion, forming a strong contrast to the
steady composure and death-like silence with which the well-trained
Varangians stood in the parade, like statues made of iron.
The reader must then conceive this throne in all the pomp of Oriental
greatness, surrounded by the foreign and Roman troops of the empire,
and closed on the rear by clouds of light-horse, who shifted their
places repeatedly, so as to convey an idea of their multitude, without
affording the exact means of estimating it. Through the dust which they
raised by these evolutions, might be seen banners and standards, among
which could be discovered by glances, the celebrated LABARUM,
[Footnote: Ducange fills half a column of his huge page with the mere
names of the authors who have written at length on the _Labarum_, or
principal standard of the empire for the time of Constantine. It
consisted of a spear of silver, or plated with that metal, having
suspended from, a cross beam below the spoke a small square silken
banner, adorned with portraits of the reigning family, and over these
the famous Monogram which expresses at once the figure of the cross and
the initial letters of the name of Christ. The bearer of the _Labarum_
was an officer of high rank down to the last days of the Byzantine
government.--See Gibbon, chap. 20.
Ducange seems to have proved, from the evidence of coins and triumphial
monuments, that a standard of the form of the _Labarum_ was used by
various barbarous nations long before it was adopted by their Roman
conquerors, and he is of opinion that its name also was borrowed from
either Teutonic Germany, or Celtic Gaul, or Sclavonic Illyria. It is
certain that either the German language or the Welsh may afford at this
day a perfectly satisfactory etymon: _Lap-heer_ in the former and
_Lab-hair_ in the latter, having precisely the same meaning--_the cloth
of the host_.
The form of the _Labarum_ may still be recognised in the banners
carried in ecclesiastical processions in all Roman Catholic countries.]
the pledge of conquest to the imperial banners, but whose sacred
efficacy had somewhat failed of late days. The rude soldiers of the
West, who viewed the Grecian army, maintained that the standards which
were exhibited in front of their line, were at least sufficient for the
array of ten times the number of soldiers.
Far on the right, the appearance of a very large body of European
cavalry drawn up on the sea-shore, intimated the presence of the
crusaders. So great was the desire to follow the example of the chief
Princes, Dukes, and Counts, in making the proposed fealty, that the
number of independent knights and nobles who were to perform this
service, seemed very great when collected together for that purpose;
for every crusader who possessed a tower, and led six lances, would
have thought himself abridged of his dignity if he had not been called
to acknowledge the Grecian Emperor, and hold the lands he should
conquer of his throne, as well as Godfrey of Bouillon, or Hugh the
Great, Count of Vermandois. And yet, with strange inconsistency, though
they pressed to fulfil the homage, as that which was paid by greater
persons than themselves, they seemed, at the very same time, desirous
to find some mode of intimating that the homage which they rendered
they felt as an idle degradation, and in fact held the whole show as a
mere piece of mockery.
The order of the procession had been thus settled:--The Crusaders, or,
as the Grecians called them, the _Counts_,--that being the most common
title among them,--were to advance from the left of their body, and
passing the Emperor one by one, were apprized, that, in passing, each
was to render to him, in as few words as possible, the homage which had
been previously agreed on. Godfrey of Bouillon, his brother Baldwin,
Bohemond of Antioch, and several other crusaders of eminence, were the
first to perform the ceremony, alighting when their own part was
performed, and remaining in attendance by the Emperor's chair, to
prevent, by the awe of their presence, any of their numerous associates
from being guilty of petulance or presumption during the solemnity.
Other crusaders of less degree retained their station near the Emperor,
when they had once gained it, out of mere curiosity, or to show that
they were as much at liberty to do so as the greater commanders who
assumed that privilege.
Thus two great bodies of troops, Grecian and European, paused at some
distance from each other on the banks of the Bosphorus canal, differing
in language, arms, and appearance. The small troops of horse which from
time to time issued forth from these bodies, resembled the flashes of
lightning passing from one thunder-cloud to another, which communicate
to each other by such emissaries their overcharged contents. After some
halt on the margin of the Bosphorus, the Franks who had performed
homage, straggled irregularly forward to a quay on the shore, where
innumerable galleys and smaller vessels, provided for the purpose, lay
with sails and oars prepared to waft the warlike pilgrims across the
passage, and place them on that Asia which they longed so passionately
to visit, and from which but few of them were likely to return. The gay
appearance of the vessels which were to receive them, the readiness
with which they were supplied with refreshments, the narrowness of the
strait they had to cross, the near approach of that active service
which they had vowed and longed to discharge, put the warriors into gay
spirits, and songs and music bore chorus to the departing oars.
While such was the temper of the crusaders, the Grecian Emperor did his
best through the whole ceremonial to impress on the armed multitude the
highest ideas of his own grandeur, and the importance of the occasion
which had brought them together. This was readily admitted by the
higher chiefs; some because their vanity had been propitiated,--some
because their avarice had been gratified,--some because their ambition
had been inflamed,--and a few, a very few, because to remain friends
with Alexius was the most probable means of advancing the purposes of
their expedition. Accordingly the great lords, from these various
motives, practised a humility which perhaps they were far from feeling,
and carefully abstained from all which might seem like irreverence at
the solemn festival of the Grecians. But there were very many of a
different temper.
Of the great number of counts, lords, and knights, under whose variety
of banners the crusaders were led to the walls of Constantinople, many
were too insignificant to be bribed to this distasteful measure of
homage; and these, though they felt it dangerous to oppose resistance,
yet mixed their submission with taunts, ridicule, and such
contraventions of decorum, as plainly intimated that they entertained
resentment and scorn at the step they were about to take, and esteemed
it as proclaiming themselves vassals to a prince, heretic in his faith,
limited in the exercise of his boasted power, their enemy when he dared
to show himself such, and the friend of those only among their number,
who were able to compel him to be so; and who, though to them an
obsequious ally, was to the others, when occasion offered, an insidious
and murderous enemy.
The nobles of Frankish origin and descent were chiefly remarkable for
their presumptuous contempt of every other nation engaged in the
crusade, as well as for their dauntless bravery, and for the scorn with
which they regarded the power and authority of the Greek empire. It was
a common saying among them, that if the skies should fall, the French
crusaders alone were able to hold them up with their lances. The same
bold and arrogant disposition showed itself in occasional quarrels with
their unwilling hosts, in which the Greeks, notwithstanding all their
art, were often worsted; so that Alexius was determined, at all events,
to get rid of these intractable and fiery allies, by ferrying them over
the Bosphorus with all manner of diligence. To do this with safety, he
availed himself of the presence of the Count of Vermandois, Godfrey of
Bouillon, and other chiefs of great influence, to keep in order the
lesser Frankish knights, who were so numerous and unruly. [Footnote:
See Mills, vol. i. chap. 3.]
Struggling with his feelings of offended pride, tempered by a prudent
degree of apprehension, the Emperor endeavoured to receive with
complacence a homage tendered in mockery. An incident shortly took
place of a character highly descriptive of the nations brought together
in so extraordinary a manner, and with such different feelings and
sentiments. Several bands of French had passed, in a sort of
procession, the throne of the Emperor, and rendered, with some
appearance of gravity, the usual homage. On this occasion they bent
their knees to Alexius, placed their hands within his, and in that
posture paid the ceremonies of feudal fealty. But when it came to the
turn of Bohemond of Antioch, already mentioned, to render this fealty,
the Emperor, desirous to show every species of honour to this wily
person, his former enemy, and now apparently his ally, advanced two or
three paces towards the sea-side, where the boats lay as if in
readiness for his use.
The distance to which the Emperor moved was very small, and it was
assumed as a piece of deference to Bohemond; but it became the means of
exposing Alexius himself to a cutting affront, which his guards and
subjects felt deeply, as an intentional humiliation. A half score of
horsemen, attendants of the Frankish Count who was next to perform the
homage, with their lord at their head, set off at full gallop from the
right flank of the French squadrons, and arriving before the throne,
which was yet empty, they at once halted. The rider at the head of the
band was a strong herculean figure, with a decided and stern
countenance, though extremely handsome, looking out from thick black
curls. His head was surmounted with a barret cap, while his hands,
limbs, and feet were covered with garments of chamois leather, over
which he in general wore the ponderous and complete armour of his
country. This, however, he had laid aside for personal convenience,
though in doing so he evinced a total neglect of the ceremonial which
marked so important a meeting. He waited not a moment for the Emperor's
return, nor regarded the impropriety of obliging Alexius to hurry his
steps back to his throne, but sprung from his gigantic horse, and threw
the reins loose, which were instantly seized by one of the attendant
pages. Without a moment's hesitation the Frank seated himself in the
vacant throne of the Emperor, and extending his half-armed and robust
figure on the golden cushions which were destined for Alexius, he
indolently began to caress a large wolf-hound which had followed him,
and which, feeling itself as much at ease as its master, reposed its
grim form on the carpets of silk and gold damask, which tapestried the
imperial foot-stool. The very hound stretched itself with a bold,
ferocious insolence, and seemed to regard no one with respect, save the
stern knight whom it called master.
The Emperor, turning back from the short space which, as a special mark
of favour, he had accompanied Bohemond, beheld with astonishment his
seat occupied by this insolent Frank. The bands of the half-savage
Varangians who were stationed around, would not have hesitated an
instant in avenging the insult, by prostrating the violator of their
master's throne even in this act of his contempt, had they not been
restrained by Achilles Tatius and other officers, who were uncertain
what the Emperor would do, and somewhat timorous of taking a resolution
for themselves.
Meanwhile, the unceremonious knight spoke aloud, in a speech which,
though provincial, might be understood by all to whom the French
language was known, while even those who understood it not, gathered
its interpretation from his tone and manner. "What churl is this," he
said, "who has remained sitting stationary like a block of wood, or the
fragment of a rock, when so many noble knights, the flower of chivalry
and muster of gallantry, stand uncovered around, among the thrice
conquered Varangians?"
A deep, clear accent replied, as if from the bottom of the earth, so
like it was to the accents of some being from the other world,--"If the
Normans desire battle of the Varangians, they will meet them in the
lists man to man, without the poor boast of insulting the Emperor of
Greece, who is well known to fight only by the battle-axes of his
guard."
The astonishment was so great when this answer was heard, as to affect
even the knight, whose insult upon the Emperor had occasioned it; and
amid the efforts of Achilles to retain his soldiers within the bounds
of subordination and silence, a loud murmur seemed to intimate that
they would not long remain so. Bohemond returned through the press with
a celerity which did not so well suit the dignity of Alexius, and
catching the crusader by the arm, he, something between fair means and
a gentle degree of force, obliged him to leave the chair of the
Emperor, in which he had placed himself so boldly.
"How is it," said Bohemond, "noble Count of Paris? Is there one of this
great assembly who can see with patience, that your name, so widely
renowned for valour, is now to be quoted in an idle brawl with
hirelings, whose utmost boast it is to bear a mercenary battle-axe in
the ranks of the Emperor's guards? For shame--for shame--do not, for
the discredit of Norman chivalry, let it be so!"
"I know not," said the crusader, rising reluctantly--"I am not nice in
choosing the degree of my adversary, when he bears himself like one who
is willing and forward in battle. I am good-natured, I tell thee, Count
Bohemond; and Turk or Tartar, or wandering Anglo-Saxon, who only
escapes from the chain of the Normans to become the slave of the Greek,
is equally welcome to whet his blade clean against my armour, if he
desires to achieve such an honourable office."
The Emperor had heard what passed--had heard it with indignation, mixed
with fear; for he imagined the whole scheme of his policy was about to
be overturned at once by a premeditated plan of personal affront, and
probably an assault upon his person. He was about to call to arms,
when, casting his eyes on the right flank of the crusaders, he saw that
all remained quiet after the Frank Baron had transferred himself from
thence. He therefore instantly resolved to let the insult pass, as one
of the rough pleasantries of the Franks, since the advance of more
troops did not give any symptom of an actual onset.
Resolving on his line of conduct with the quickness of thought, he
glided back to his canopy, and stood beside his throne, of which,
however, he chose not instantly to take possession, lest he should give
the insolent stranger some ground for renewing and persisting in a
competition for it.
"What bold Vavasour is this," said he to Count Baldwin, "whom, as is
apparent from his dignity, I ought to have received seated upon my
throne, and who thinks proper thus to vindicate his rank?"
"He is reckoned one of the bravest men in our host," answered Baldwin,
"though the brave are as numerous there as the sands of the sea. He
will himself tell you his name and rank."
Alexius looked at the Vavasour. He saw nothing in his large,
well-formed features, lighted by a wild touch of enthusiasm which spoke
in his quick eye, that intimated premeditated insult, and was induced
to suppose that what had occurred, so contrary to the form and
ceremonial of the Grecian court, was neither an intentional affront,
nor designed as the means of introducing a quarrel. He therefore spoke
with comparative ease, when he addressed the stranger thus:--"We know
not by what dignified name to salute you: but we are aware, from Count
Baldwin's information, that we are honoured in having in our presence
one of the bravest knights whom a sense of the wrongs done to the Holy
Land has brought thus far on his way to Palestine, to free it from its
bondage."
"If you mean to ask my name," answered the European knight, "any one of
these pilgrims can readily satisfy you, and more gracefully than I can
myself; since we use to say in our country, that many a fierce quarrel
is prevented from being fought out by an untimely disclosure of names,
when men, who might have fought with the fear of God before their eyes,
must, when their names are manifested, recognise each other as
spiritual allies, by baptism, gossipred, or some such irresistible bond
of friendship; whereas, had they fought first and told their names
afterwards, they could have had some assurance of each other's valour,
and have been able to view their relationship as an honour to both."
"Still," said the Emperor, "methinks I would know if you, who, in this
extraordinary press of knights, seem to assert a precedence to
yourself, claim the dignity due to a king or prince?"
"How speak you that?" said the Frank, with a brow somewhat
over-clouded; "do you feel that I have not left you unjostled by my
advance to these squadrons of yours?"
Alexius hastened to answer, that he felt no particular desire to
connect the Count with an affront or offence; observing, that in the
extreme necessity of the Empire, it was no time for him, who was at the
helm, to engage in idle or unnecessary quarrels.
The Frankish knight heard him, and answered drily--"Since such are your
sentiments, I wonder that you have ever resided long enough within the
hearing of the French language to learn to speak it as you do. I would
have thought some of the sentiments of the chivalry of the nation,
since you are neither a monk nor a woman, would, at the same time with
the words of the dialect, have found their way into your heart." "Hush,
Sir Count," said Bohemond, who remained by the Emperor to avert the
threatening quarrel. "It is surely requisite to answer the Emperor with
civility; and those who are impatient for warfare, will have infidels
enough to wage it with. He only demanded your name and lineage, which
you of all men can have the least objection to disclose."
"I know not if it will interest this prince, or Emperor as you term
him," answered the Frank Count; "but all the account I can give of
myself is this:--In the midst of one of the vast forests which, occupy
the centre of France, my native country, there stands a chapel, sunk so
low into the ground, that it seems as if it were become decrepid by its
own great age. The image of the Holy Virgin who presides over its
altar, is called by all men our Lady of the Broken Lances, and is
accounted through the whole kingdom the most celebrated for military
adventures. Four beaten roads, each leading from an opposite point in
the compass, meet before the principal door of the chapel; and ever and
anon, as a good knight arrives at this place, he passes in to the
performance of his devotions in the chapel, having first sounded his
horn three times, till ash and oak-tree quiver and ring. Having then
kneeled down to his devotions, he seldom arises from the mass of Her of
the Broken Lances, but there is attending on his leisure some
adventurous knight ready to satisfy the new comer's desire of battle.
This station have I held for a month and more against all comers, and
all gave me fair thanks for the knightly manner of quitting myself
towards them, except one, who had the evil hap to fall from his horse,
and did break his neck; and another, who was struck through the body,
so that the lance came out behind his back about a cloth-yard, all
dripping with blood. Allowing for such accidents, which cannot easily
be avoided, my opponents parted with me with fair acknowledgment of the
grace I had done them."
"I conceive, Sir Knight," said the Emperor, "that a form like yours,
animated by the courage you display, is likely to find few equals even
among your adventurous countrymen; far less among men who are taught
that to cast away their lives in a senseless quarrel among themselves,
is to throw away, like a boy, the gift of Providence."
"You are welcome to your opinion," said the Frank, somewhat
contemptuously; "yet I assure you, if you doubt that our gallant strife
was unmixed with sullenness and anger, and that we hunt not the hart or
the boar with merrier hearts in the evening, than we discharge our task
of chivalry by the morn had arisen, before the portal of the old
chapel, you do us foul injustice."
"With the Turks you will not enjoy this amiable exchange of
courtesies," answered Alexius. "Wherefore I would advise you neither to
stray far into the van nor into the rear, but to abide by the standard
where the best infidels make their efforts, and the best knights are
required to repel them."
"By our Lady of the Broken Lances," said the Crusader, "I would not
that the Turks were more courteous than they are Christian, and am well
pleased that unbeliever and heathen hound are a proper description for
the best of them, as being traitor alike to their God and to the laws
of chivalry; and devoutly do I trust that I shall meet with them in the
front rank of our army, beside our standard, or elsewhere, and have an
open field to my devoir against them, both as the enemies of our Lady
and the holy saints, and as, by their evil customs, more expressly my
own. Meanwhile you have time to seat yourself and receive my homage,
and I will be bound to you for despatching this foolish ceremony with
as little waste and delay of time as the occasion will permit."
The Emperor hastily seated himself, and received into his the sinewy
hands of the Crusader, who made the acknowledgment of his homage, and
was then guided off by Count Baldwin, who walked with the stranger to
the ships, and then, apparently well pleased at seeing him in the
course of going on board, returned back to the side of the Emperor.
"What is the name," said the Emperor, "of that singular and assuming
man?"
"It is Robert, Count of Paris," answered Baldwin, "accounted one of the
bravest peers who stand around the throne of France."
After a moment's recollection, Alexius Comnenus issued orders, that the
ceremonial of the day should be discontinued, afraid, perhaps, lest the
rough and careless humour of the strangers should produce some new
quarrel. The crusaders were led, nothing loth, back to palaces in which
they had been hospitably received, and readily resumed the interrupted
feast, from which they had been called to pay their homage. The
trumpets of the various leaders blew the recall of the few troops of an
ordinary character who were attendant, together with the host of
knights and leaders, who, pleased with the indulgences provided for
them, and obscurely foreseeing that the passage of the Bosphorus would
be the commencement of their actual suffering, rejoiced in being called
to the hither side.
It was not probably intended; but the hero, as he might be styled, of
the tumultuous day, Count Robert of Paris, who was already on his road
to embarkation on the strait, was disturbed in his purpose by the sound
of recall which was echoed around; nor could Bohemond, Godfrey, or any
one who took upon him to explain the signal, alter his resolution of
returning to Constantinople. He laughed to scorn the threatened
displeasure of the Emperor, and seemed to think there would be a
peculiar pleasure in braving Alexius at his own board, or, at least,
that nothing could be more indifferent than whether he gave offence or
not.
To Godfrey of Bouillon, to whom he showed some respect, he was still
far from paying deference; and that sagacious prince, having used every
argument which might shake his purpose of returning to the imperial
city, to the very point of making it a quarrel with him in person, at
length abandoned him to his own discretion, and pointed him out to the
Count of Thoulouse, as he passed, as a wild knight-errant, incapable of
being influenced by any thing save his own wayward fancy. "He brings
not five hundred men to the crusade," said Godfrey; "and I dare be
sworn, that even in this, the very outset of the undertaking, he knows
not where these five hundred men are, and how their wants are provided
for. There is an eternal trumpet in his ear sounding to assault, nor
has he room or time to hear a milder or more rational signal. See how
he strolls along yonder, the very emblem of an idle schoolboy, broke
out of the school-bounds upon a holyday, half animated by curiosity and
half by love of mischief."
"And," said Raymond, Count of Thoulouse, "with resolution sufficient to
support the desperate purpose of the whole army of devoted crusaders.
And yet so passionate a Rodomont is Count Robert, that he would rather
risk the success of the whole expedition, that omit an opportunity of
meeting a worthy antagonist _en champ-clos_, or lose, as he terms it, a
chance of worshipping our Lady of the Broken Lances. Who are yon with
whom he has now met, and who are apparently walking, or rather
strolling in the same way with him, back to Constantinople?"
"An armed knight, brilliantly equipped--yet of something less than
knightly stature," answered Godfrey. "It is, I suppose, the celebrated
lady who won Robert's heart in the lists of battle, by bravery and
valour equal to his own; and the pilgrim form in the long vestments may
be their daughter or niece."
"A singular spectacle, worthy Knight," said the Count of Thoulouse, "do
our days present to us, to which we have had nothing similar, since
Gaita, [Footnote: This Amazon makes a conspicuous figure in Anna
Comnena's account of her father's campaigns against Robert Guiscard. On
one occasion (Alexiad, lib. iv. p. 93) she represents her as thus
recalling the fugitive soldiery of her husband to their duty,--[Greek:
Hae de ge Taita Aeallas allae, kan mae Athaenae kat auton megisaen
apheisa phonaen, monon ou to Homaerikon epos tae idia dialektio legein
eokei. Mechri posou pheuxesthou; ataete aneres ese. Hos de eti
pheugontas toutous eora, dory makron enagkalisamenae, holous rhytaeras
endousa kata ton pheugonton ietai].--That is, exhorting them, in all
but Homeric language, at the top of her voice; and when this failed,
brandishing a long spear, and rushing upon the fugitives at the utmost
speed of her horse.
This heroic lady, according to the _Chronigue Scandaleuse_, of those
days, was afterwards deluded by some cunning overtures of the Greek
Emperor, and poisoned her husband in expectation of gaining a place on
the throne of Constantinople. Ducange, however, rejects the story, and
so does Gibbon.] wife of Robert Guiscard, first took upon her to
distinguish herself by manly deeds of emprise, and rival her husband,
as well in the front of battle as at the dancing-room or banquet."
"Such is the custom of this pair, most noble knight," answered another
Crusader, who had joined them, "and Heaven pity the poor man who has no
power to keep domestic peace by an appeal to the stronger hand!"
"Well!" replied Raymond, "if it be rather a mortifying reflection, that
the lady of our love is far past the bloom of youth, it is a
consolation that she is too old-fashioned to beat us, when we return
back with no more of youth or manhood than a long crusade has left. But
come, follow on the road to Constantinople, and in the rear of this
most doughty knight."