SIXTH CRUSADE.
A.D. 1200-1215.
IN the preceding books, the imposing spectacle has passed before our
eyes of the fall of an old empire, and of the rise and rapid decline
of a new one. The imagination of man loves to dwell upon ruins, and
the most sanguinary catastrophes even offer him highly attractive
pictures. We have reason to fear that our narration will create less
interest, awaken less curiosity, when, after the great revolutions we
have described, it will be our duty to turn our attention to the petty
states the Christians founded in Syria, for the safety of which the
nations of the West were constantly called upon to furnish warlike
assistance.
At the present day, we have great difficulty in comprehending that
enthusiasm which animated all classes for the deliverance of the
holy places, or that powerful interest that directed the thoughts of
all to countries almost forgotten by modern Europe.[163] During the
height of the fervour for the crusades, the taking of a city or town
of Judea caused more joy than the taking of Byzantium; and Jerusalem
was more dear to the Christians of the West than their own country.
This enthusiasm, of which our indifference can scarcely form an idea,
renders the task of the historian difficult, and makes him often
hesitate in the choice of the events that history has to record: when
opinions have changed, everything has changed with them: glory itself
has lost its splendour, and that which appeared great in the eyes of
men, seems only fantastical or vulgar; the historical epochs of our
annals have become the objects of our most sovereign contempt; and
when, without due reference to the ages of the holy wars, we wish to
submit these extraordinary enterprises to the calculations of reason,
we resemble those modern travellers who have only found a dribbling
rivulet in the place of that famous Scamander, of which the imagination
of the ancients, and still more, the muse of Homer, had made a majestic
river.
But if we have no longer the task of describing the revolutions and
falls of empires, the epoch of which we are about to trace the picture,
will still present to us but too many of those great calamities with
which human life supplies history: whilst Greece was a prey to all the
ravages of war, the most cruel scourges desolated both Egypt and Syria.
The Nile suspended its accustomed course, and failed to inundate its
banks or render the harvests abundant. The last year of this century
(1200) announced itself, says an Arabian author, like a monster whose
fury threatened to devour everything. When the famine began to be felt,
the people were compelled to support themselves upon the grass of the
fields and the ordure of animals,[164] the poor routed up cemeteries,
and disputed with the worms the spoils of coffins. When this awful
scourge became more general, the population of the cities and country,
as if pursued by a pitiless enemy, fled away from their homes in
despair, and wandered about at hazard from city to city, from village
to village, meeting everywhere with the evil they wished to avoid; in
no inhabited place could they step a foot without being struck by the
appearance of a putrifying carcass, or some unhappy wretch on the point
of expiring.
The most frightful effect of this universal calamity was, that the want
of food gave birth to the greatest crimes, and rendered every man the
enemy of his fellows. At the commencement of the famine much horror was
expressed at some being reduced to feed upon human flesh, but examples
of so great a scandal increased with such rapidity, that it was soon
spoken of with indifference. Men contending with famine, which spared
the rich no more than the poor, were no longer sensible to pity, shame,
or remorse, and were restrained neither by respect for the laws, nor
by the fear of punishment. They came at last to devour each other like
wild beasts. At Cairo, thirty women, in one day, perished at the stake,
convicted of having killed and eaten their own children. The historian
Abdallatif relates a crowd of barbarous and monstrous incidents which
make the blood run cold with horror, and to which we will not give a
place in our history, for fear of being accused of calumniating human
nature.
The plague soon added its ravages to those of famine. God alone, says
contemporary history, knows the number of those that died with famine
and disease. The capital of Egypt, in the space of a few months,
witnessed a hundred and eleven thousand funerals. At length it was
found impossible to bury the dead, and the terrified survivors were
obliged to be satisfied with casting them over the ramparts. The same
mortality was experienced at Damietta, Kous, and Alexandria. It was
at the period of seed-time that the plague was at its height; they
who sowed the seed were not the same that had ploughed the ground,
and they who sowed lived not to reap the harvest. The villages were
deserted, and reminded travellers of those expressions of the Koran:
“_We have mown them all down and exterminated them; one cry was heard,
and all have perished._” The dead bodies that floated on the Nile were
as numerous as the bulbous plants which, at certain seasons, cover the
waters of that river. One fisherman counted more than four hundred
that passed before his eyes in a single day; piles of human bones were
met with everywhere; the roads, to borrow the expression of Arabian
writers, “_Were like a field sown with dead bodies_, and the most
populous provinces _were as a banqueting-hall for the birds of prey_.”
Egypt lost more than a million of its inhabitants; both famine and
plague were felt as far as Syria, and the Christian cities suffered
equally with those of the Mussulmans. From the shores of the Red Sea to
the banks of the Euphrates and the Orontes, the whole country presented
one picture of desolation and mourning. As if the anger of Heaven
was not satisfied, it was not long before a third calamity, not less
terrible, followed in the train of the others. A violent earthquake
laid waste the cities and provinces that famine and plague had
spared;[165] the shocks resembled the motion of a sieve, or that which
a bird makes when he raises and lowers his wings. The rising of the
sea, and the agitation of the waves presented a horrible appearance;
ships were, on a sudden, carried far on to the land, and multitudes of
fish covered the shore; the heights of Libanus opened and sunk in many
places. The people of Syria and Egypt believed it to be the earthquake
that is to precede the day of judgment. Many inhabited places totally
disappeared; a vast number of men perished; the fortresses of Hamath,
Barin, and Balbec were thrown down; the only part of the city of
Naplouse that was left standing was the street of the Samaritans; in
Damascus, all the most superb edifices were destroyed; in the city
of Tyre only a few houses escaped, and the ramparts of Ptolemaïs and
Tripoli were nothing but heaps of ruins. The shocks were felt with less
violence in the territory of Jerusalem, and, in the general calamity,
both Christians and Mussulmans returned thanks to Heaven for having
spared in its anger the city of prophets and miracles.
Such awful disasters ought to have caused the treaties made between
the barons and the infidels to be respected. In the fifth crusade,
the sovereign pontiff urged the Christians to take advantage of these
calamitous days to invade the Mussulman provinces of Syria and Egypt:
but if the advice of the pope had been followed, if the Christian
army on leaving Venice, had directed its march towards the countries
devastated by pestilence and famine, it is most probable that the
conquerors and the conquered would have perished together. At that
period, death, like a formidable sentinel, guarded all the frontiers
of the Christians and Mussulmans. All the scourges of nature became
the terrible guardians of provinces, and defended the approaches and
entrances of cities better than the greatest armies could have done.
The Christian colonies, however, began, not to repair their losses,
but to forget the evils they had suffered. Amaury, king of Jerusalem,
set his barons an example of wisdom and pious resignation. The three
military orders, that had exhausted their treasures to support their
knights and soldiers during the famine, made a strong appeal, by
messengers and letters, to the charity of the faithful of the West.
The Christian cities that had been destroyed by the earthquake were
rebuilt, and the sums amassed by Foulque of Neuilly, the preacher of
the last crusade, were employed in restoring the walls of Ptolemaïs.
As the Christians wanted labourers, they set the Mussulman prisoners
to work. Among the prisoners condemned to this service, history must
not pass by the celebrated Persian poet Saadi, who had fallen into the
hands of the Franks, whilst on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.[166] The
author of “The Garden of Roses,” and several other works, destined at
a future day to obtain the admiration of the East and the West, was
loaded with irons, led to Tripoli, and confounded with the crowd of
captives employed in rebuilding the fortifications of that city.
The truce which had been concluded with the infidels still subsisted;
but either pretensions or quarrels daily arose that were frequently
followed by hostilities. The Christians were continually kept under
arms, and peace was sometimes as abundant in troubles and dangers as an
open war would have been. There likewise prevailed, at this time, great
confusion among the Christian colonies, and even among the Mussulman
powers. The sultan of Damascus was at peace with the king of Jerusalem,
whilst the count of Tripoli, the prince of Antioch, with the Templars
and Hospitallers, were at war with the princes of Hamath, Edessa or
some emirs of Syria.[167] Every one, according to his humour, took up
or laid down his arms, without any power being sufficiently strong to
enforce respect for treaties.
No great battles were fought, but constant incursions upon the
territories of enemies were made; cities were surprised, countries were
ravaged, and great booty obtained. Amidst these disorders, which were
called _Days of Truce_, the Christians of Palestine had to lament the
death of their king. Amaury, according to the custom of the faithful,
went to Caïfa, during holy week, to gather palm; but fell sick on his
pilgrimage, and returned to Ptolemaïs to die. Thus the sceptre of the
kingdom of Jerusalem again remained in the hands of Isabella, who had
neither the power, nor the ability necessary to govern the Christian
states. At the same time, one of the sons of Bohemond, prince of
Antioch, fell under the daggers of assassins sent by the Old Man of
the Mountains. Bohemond the Third, at a very advanced age, was unable
to avenge this murder; and, in addition, before he died, had the
mortification of seeing war break out between his second son, Raymond,
count of Tripoli, and Livon, prince of Armenia. The order of the
Templars, as well as that of the Hospitallers, interested themselves
in this quarrel, and were opposed to each other. The sultan of Aleppo
and the Turks from Asia Minor mixed themselves with the dissensions
of the Christians, and took advantage of their divisions to ravage
the territory of Antioch.[168] The Christian states of Syria received
no more succours from the West. The remembrance of the evils that had
ravaged the countries beyond the seas had damped the zeal and the
ardour of pilgrims; the warriors of Europe, accustomed to face with
coolness all the perils of war, had not sufficient courage to brave
pestilence and famine. A great number of the barons and knights of
Palestine, themselves abandoned a land too long laid desolate, some to
repair to Constantinople, and others to the kingdoms of the West.
Innocent, who had up to this time made vain efforts for the deliverance
of the holy places, and who could not overcome his regret at having
seen great Christian armies fruitlessly dissipated in the conquest of
Greece, still did not give up his vast designs; from the beginning of
his reign, the sovereign pontiff had pointed out the Holy Land to the
Christian nations, as the road and the way of salvation. After the
example of his predecessors, he not only called piety and virtue in to
the defence of the Christian colonies, but remorse and repentance. All
who came to him to confess great sins, were allowed but one means of
expiating their crimes,—crossing the sea to fight against the infidels.
Among the sinners condemned to this sort of punishment history
quotes the names of the murderers of Conrad, bishop of Wurtzburg and
chancellor of the empire.[169] The guilty having presented themselves
before the pope, barefooted, in drawers, and with halters round their
necks, swore in the presence of the cardinals, to pass their lives
in the practice of the most austere mortifications, and to carry
arms during four years against the Saracens. A knight, named Robert,
scandalized the whole court of Rome by confessing in a loud voice,
that, being a prisoner in Egypt during the famine, he had killed his
wife and daughter, to feed upon their flesh. The pope imposed the
most rigorous penances upon Robert, and ordered him, to complete the
expiation of so great a crime, to pass three years in visiting the holy
places.
Innocent endeavoured by such means to keep up the devotion of
pilgrimages, which had given birth to the crusades, and might again
revive the zeal and ardour for holy wars. According to the opinion
which the sovereign pontiff sought to spread among the faithful,
and by which he himself appeared penetrated, this corrupt world had
no crimes for which God would not open the treasures of his mercy
provided the perpetrators would take the voyage to the East. The
people however were persuaded that the sins and errors of a perverse
generation had irritated the God of the Christians, and that the glory
of conquering the Holy Land was reserved for another and a better age,
to a generation more worthy of attracting the eyes and the blessings of
Heaven.
This opinion of the nations of the West was very little in favour of
the Christians of Syria, who were daily making rapid strides towards
their fall. Isabella, who only reigned over depopulated cities, died
soon after her husband. A son that she had had by Amaury preceded her
to the tomb; and the kingdom of Jerusalem became the heritage of a
young princess, a daughter of Isabella and Conrad, marquis of Tyre. The
barons and knights that remained in Syria were more sensible than ever
of the necessity of having at their head a prince able to govern them,
and immediately set about choosing a husband for the young queen of
Jerusalem.
Their choice might have fallen upon one of themselves; but they feared
that jealousy would give birth to fresh discords, and that the spirit
of rivalry and faction would weaken the authority of him that should be
called upon to govern the kingdom. The assembly resolved to seek a king
in the West, and to address themselves to the country of Godfrey and
the Baldwins,—to that nation that had furnished so many heroes to the
crusades, so many illustrious defenders of the Holy Land.
This resolution of the barons of Palestine had not only the advantage
of preserving peace in the kingdom of Jerusalem, but also that of
arousing the spirit of chivalry in Europe, and of interesting it in
the cause of the Christians of the East. Aimar, lord of Cæsarea, and
the bishop of Ptolemaïs, crossed the sea, and went, in the name of the
Christians of the Holy Land, to solicit Philip Augustus to send them
a knight or a baron who might save the little that remained of the
unfortunate kingdom of Jerusalem. The hand of a young queen, a crown,
and the blessings of Heaven were the rewards held out to the bravery
and devotedness of him who was willing to fight for the heritage of the
Son of God. The deputies were received with great honours at the court
of the king of France. Although the crown they offered was nothing but
a vain title, it not the less dazzled the imagination of the French
knights; their valorous ambition was seduced by the hope of acquiring
great renown, and restoring the throne that had been founded by the
bravery of Godfrey of Bouillon.
Among the knights of his court, Philip greatly distinguished John of
Brienne,[170] brother of Gauthier,[171] who died in Apulia with the
reputation of a hero and the title of king. In his youth, John of
Brienne had been destined for the ecclesiastical state; but, brought
up in a family of warriors, and less sensible to the charms of piety
than to those of glory, he refused to obey the will of his parents;
and as his father was inclined to employ force to constrain him, he
sought a refuge against paternal anger in the monastery of Citeaux.
John of Brienne was mixed with the crowd of cenobites, and gave himself
up, as they did, to fasting and mortification. The austerities of
the cloister, however, did not at all assimilate with his growing
passion for the noble occupation of arms; and often, amidst prayers
and religious ceremonies, the images of tournaments and battles would
distract his thoughts and disturb his mind. One of his uncles having
found him at the door of the monastery in a state very little suited
to a gentleman, had pity on his tears, took him away with him, and
encouraged his natural inclinations. From that time the glory of
combats entirely occupied his thoughts; and he who had been destined
to the silence of cloisters and the peace of altars, was not long in
creating for himself by his bravery and exploits a great and widely
spread renown.
At the period of the last crusade, John of Brienne accompanied his
brother in his attempt to obtain the kingdom of Naples, and saw
him perish whilst fighting for a throne that was to be the reward
of the victor. He had the same fortune to guide his hopes, and the
same dangers to encounter, if he espoused the heir of the kingdom
of Jerusalem. He accepted with joy the hand of a young queen, for
the possession of whose states he must contend with the Saracens, he
charged the ambassadors to return and announce his speedy arrival in
Palestine, and, full of confidence in the cause he was about to defend,
promised to follow them at the head of an army.
When Aymar of Cæsarea and the bishop of Ptolemaïs returned to the Holy
Land, the promises of John of Brienne raised the depressed courage of
the Christians, and, as it often happens in seasons of misfortune, they
passed from despair to the most extravagant hopes.
It was given out in Palestine that a crusade was in preparation,
commanded by the most powerful monarchs of the West; and the report
of such an extraordinary armament produced a momentary terror among
the infidels. Malek-Adel, who, since the death of Al-Aziz, reigned
over Syria and Egypt, dreaded the enterprises of the Christians; and
as the truce made with the Franks was on the point of expiring, he
proposed to renew it, offering to deliver up ten castles or fortresses
as a pledge of his good faith and his desire for a continuation of
peace. This proposal ought to have been welcomed by the Christians of
Palestine; but the hopes of assistance from the West had banished all
moderation and foresight from the councils of the barons and knights.
The wiser part of the Christian warriors, among whom was the grand
master of the order of St. John, were of opinion that the truce should
be prolonged. They reminded their companions that they had often been
promised succour from the West, without this succour ever having
reached the Holy Land; and that in the very last crusade, a formidable
army, confidently expected in Palestine, had directed its march towards
Constantinople. They added, that it was not prudent to risk the chances
of war upon the faith of a vain promise; and that they ought to wait
the event, before they formed a determination upon which might depend
the safety or the ruin of the Christians of the East. These discourses
were full of wisdom and good sense, but as the Hospitallers spoke in
favour of the truce, the Templars, with great warmth, declared for
war: such was, likewise, the spirit of the Christian warriors, that
prudence, moderation, or, indeed, any of the virtues of peace, inspired
them with a sort of disdain; for them reason was always on the side of
perils, and only to speak of flying to arms was quite sufficient to
win all their suffrages. The assembly of barons and knights refused to
prolong the truce made with the Saracens.
This determination became so much the more fatal, from the situation
of France and Europe, which could scarcely allow John of Brienne to
entertain the hope of accomplishing his promise of raising an army for
the Holy Land.
Germany was still agitated by the rival pretensions of Otho and
Philip of Swabia: John of England laboured under the curse of an
excommunication, which interdict extended to his kingdom. Philip
Augustus was busily employed in taking advantage of all the troubles
that were in full action around him; on one side by endeavouring to
extend his influence in Germany, and on the other by constant efforts
to weaken the power of the English, who were masters of several
provinces of his kingdom. John of Brienne arrived at Ptolemaïs with the
train of a king, but he only brought with him three hundred knights to
defend his kingdom; his new subjects, however, still full of hopes,
looked upon him no less as a liberator. His marriage was celebrated in
the presence of the barons, the princes, and the bishops of Ptolemaïs.
As the truce was about to expire, the Saracens resumed their arms,
and disturbed the festivities of the coronation. Malek-Adel entered
Palestine at the head of an army, and the infidels not only laid siege
to Tripoli, but threatened Ptolemaïs.
The new king, at the head of a small number of faithful warriors,
created great admiration for his valour in the field of battle; but he
was not able to deliver the Christian provinces from the presence of a
formidable enemy. When the defenders of Palestine compared their scanty
ranks with the multitude of their enemies, they sank at once into a
state of despondency; and even those who so lately scorned the thoughts
of peace with the infidels, could not muster either strength or courage
to oppose to their attacks. Most of the French knights that had
accompanied the new king, quitted the kingdom they had come to succour,
and returned into Europe. The dominions of John of Brienne consisted of
the city of Ptolemaïs alone, and he had no army to defend even that;
he then began to perceive he had undertaken a perilous and difficult
task, and that he should not be able to contend for any length of time
against the united forces of the Saracens. Ambassadors were sent to
Rome to inform the pope of the pressing dangers of the Christian states
in Asia, and once more to implore the support of the princes of Europe,
and, above all, of the French knights.
These fresh cries of alarm were scarcely heard by the nations of
the West. The troubles which agitated Europe at the period of the
departure of John of Brienne for Palestine were far from being allayed,
and prevented France especially from lending any assistance to the
Christian colonies. Languedoc and most of the southern provinces of the
kingdom were then desolated by religious wars, which fully employed the
bravery of the French knights and nobles.
A spirit of inquiry and indocility, which had arisen among the
faithful, and with which St. Bernard had reproached his age, was making
alarming progress every day. The most holy doctors had already many
times expressed their grief at the abasement of the holy word, of
which every one constituted himself judge and arbiter, and which was
treated, said Stephen of Tournay in his letters to the pope, with as
little discernment as _holy things given to dogs, or pearls cast at the
feet of swine_. This spirit of independence and pride, joined to the
love of paradox and novelty; to the decline of sound studies, and the
relaxation of ecclesiastical discipline; had given birth to heresies
which rent the bosom of the Church.
The most dangerous of all the new sects was that of the Albigeois,[172]
which took its name from the city of Albi, in which its first
assemblies had been held. These new sectarians being unable to explain
the existence of evil under a just and good God, as the Manicheans had
done, adopted two principles. According to their belief, God had first
created Lucifer and his angels; Lucifer having revolted from God, was
banished from heaven, and produced the visible world, over which he
reigned. God, to re-establish order, created his second son, Jesus
Christ, to be the genius of good, as Lucifer had been the genius of
evil. Several contemporary writers represent the Albigeois in the most
odious colours, and describe them as given up to all kinds of error;
but this opinion must not be adopted in all its rigour by impartial
history. For the honour of human nature we feel bound to say, that
never did a religious sect dare to endeavour to win the approbation of
mankind whilst presenting an example of depravity of morals; and that
in no age, among no people, has a false doctrine ever been able to
lead astray any number of men, without being supported by at least an
appearance of virtue.
The wisest and most earnest Christians were at that period desirous of
a reform in the clergy. “But there were,” says Bossuet, “vain and proud
minds,[173] full of bitterness, which, struck by the disorders that
reigned in the Church, and more particularly among its ministers, did
not believe that the promises of its eternal duration could possibly
subsist amongst these abuses. These, become proud, and thence weak,
yielded to the temptation which leads to a hatred of the Church from a
hatred of those who preside in it; and as if the malice of man could
annihilate the work of God, the aversion they had conceived for the
teachers, made them hate at the same time both the doctrine they taught
and the authority they had received from God.”
This disposition of men’s minds gave the apostles of error a most
deplorable ascendancy, and multiplied the number of their disciples.
Among the new sectarians, the most remarkable were the _Vaudois_, or
_Poor of Lyons_, who devoted themselves to a state of idle poverty,
and despised the clergy, whom they accused of living in luxury and
voluptuousness; the _Apostoliques_, who boasted of being the only
mystical body of Jesus Christ; the _Popelicains_, who abhorred the
eucharist, marriages, and the other sacraments; the _Aymeristes_, whose
teachers announced to the world the future establishment of a purely
spiritual worship, and denied the existence of a hell or a paradise,
persuaded that sin finds in itself its own punishment, and virtue its
own reward.
As the greater part of these heretics exhibited a sovereign contempt
for the authority of the Church, which was then the first of all
authorities, all those who wished to shake off the yoke of divine laws,
and those even to whom their passions rendered the restraint of human
laws intolerable, came at length to range themselves under the banners
of these innovators, and were welcomed by a sect anxious to increase
and strengthen itself, and always disposed to consider as its partisans
and defenders, men whom society cast from its bosom, who dreaded
justice, and could not endure established order. Thus the pretended
reformers of the thirteenth century, whilst themselves affecting
austerity of manners, and proclaiming the triumph of virtue and truth,
admitted into their bosom both corruption and licentiousness, destroyed
every regulation of authority, abandoned everything to the caprice of
the passions, and left no bond to society, no power to morals, no check
upon the multitude.
The new heresies had been condemned in several councils; but as
violence was sometimes employed in executing the decisions of the
Church, persecution only tended to sour men’s minds, instead of
bringing them back to truth. Missionaries and papal legates were sent
into Languedoc, to convert the misled wanderers from the flock; but
their preaching produced no fruit, and the voice of falsehood prevailed
over the word of God. The preachers of the faith, whom the heretics
reproached with their luxury, their ignorance, and the depravity of
their manners, had neither sufficient resignation nor sufficient
humility to support such outrages, or offer them as a sacrifice to
Jesus Christ, whose apostles they were. Exposed to the scoffs of the
sectarians, and gathering nothing from the labours of their missions
but humiliation and contempt, they accustomed themselves to view the
people they were sent to convert as personal enemies; and a spirit
of vengeance and pride, which certainly came not from heaven, made
them believe it was their duty to bring into the right road, by force
of arms, all who had denied their power or resisted their eloquence.
The sovereign pontiff, whose mind was constantly bent upon the
Asiatic war, hesitated at ordering a crusade to be preached against
the Albigeois; but he was led away by the opinions of the clergy,
perhaps also by that of his age, and at last promised to all Christians
who would take up arms against the Albigeois the same privileges as
those granted to the Crusaders against the Saracens.[174] Simon de
Montfort, the duke of Burgundy, and the duke of Nevers obeyed the
orders of the Holy See: the hatred which this new sect inspired, but
still more the facility of gaining indulgences from the sovereign
pontiff without quitting Europe, drew a great number of warriors to the
standards of this crusade. The Inquisition owes its birth to this war;
an institution at once fatal to humanity, religion, and patriotism.
Piles and stakes appeared on all sides, cities were taken by storm,
and their inhabitants put to the sword. The violences and cruelties
which accompanied this unfortunate war have been described by those
even who took a most active part in them;[175] their recitals, which we
have great difficulty in believing, frequently resemble the language
of falsehood and exaggeration. In periods of vertigo and fury, when
violent passions come in to mislead both opinions and consciences, it
is not rare to meet with men who exaggerate the excesses to which
they have given themselves up, and boast of more evil than they have
committed.
For ourselves, the disastrous war against the Albigeois does not enter
into the plan of this history, and if we have spoken of it here, it was
only the better to describe the situation of France at this period, and
the obstacles which then opposed themselves to all enterprises beyond
sea. Amidst these constantly increasing obstacles, Innocent III. was
deeply afflicted at not being able to send succours to the Christians
of Palestine, his regret being the greater from the circumstance
that at the very time the Albigeois and the count of Thoulouse were
subjected to this frightful crusade, the Saracens were becoming more
formidable in Spain. The king of Castile, threatened by an innumerable
army, had just called upon all Frenchmen able to bear arms to come to
his assistance. The pope himself had written to all the bishops of
France, recommending them to exhort the faithful of their dioceses to
assist in a great battle which was to be fought between the Spaniards
and the Moors, about the octave of Pentecost (1212). Innocent promised
the warriors who would repair to Spain, the usual indulgences of holy
wars; and a solemn procession was made at Rome, to implore of God the
destruction of the Moors and Saracens. The archbishops of Narbonne and
Bordeaux, the bishop of Nantes, and a great number of French nobles,
crossed the Pyrenees, followed by two thousand knights with their
squires and serjeants-at-arms. The Christian army met the Moors in the
plains of Las Navas de Tolosa, and fought a battle, in which more than
two hundred thousand infidels lost either their lives or their liberty.
The conquerors, loaded with spoils and surrounded by the dead, sang the
_Te Deum_ on the field of battle: the standard of the leader of the
Almoades was sent to Rome as a trophy of the victory granted to the
prayers of the Christian Church.
On learning the issue of the battle of Tolosa, the sovereign pontiff,
amidst the assembled inhabitants of Rome, offered up thanks to God for
having scattered the enemies of his people, and at the same time prayed
that Heaven in its mercy would, in the end, deliver the Christians of
Syria as it had just delivered the Christians of Spain.
The head of the Church renewed his exhortations to the faithful
for the defence of the kingdom of Jesus Christ; but amidst the
troubles and civil wars that he himself had excited, he could gain no
attention to the complaints of Jerusalem, and shed tears of despair
at the indifference of the nations of the West. About this period
such a circumstance was beheld as had never occurred even in times
so abounding in prodigies and extraordinary events. Fifty thousand
children, in France and Germany, braving paternal authority, gathered
together and pervaded both cities and countries, singing these
words:—“Lord Jesus, restore to us your holy cross!” When they were
asked whither they were going, or what they intended to do, they
replied, “We are going to Jerusalem, to deliver the sepulchre of our
Saviour.” Some ecclesiastics, blinded by false zeal, had preached this
crusade; most of the faithful saw nothing in it but the inspiration of
Heaven, and thought that Jesus Christ, to show his divine power, and
to confound the pride of the greatest captains, and of the wise and
powerful of the earth, had placed his cause in the hands of simple and
timid infancy.
Many women of bad character, and dishonest men insinuated themselves
amongst the crowd of these new soldiers of the cross, to seduce and
plunder them. A great portion of this juvenile militia crossed the
Alps, to embark at the Italian ports; whilst those who came from the
provinces of France, directed their course to Marseilles. On the faith
of a miraculous revelation, they had been made to believe that this
year (1213) the drought would be so great that the sun would dissipate
all the waters of the sea, and thus an easy road for pilgrims would be
opened across the bed of the Mediterranean to the coasts of Syria. Many
of these young Crusaders lost themselves in forests, then so abundant
and large, and wandering about at hazard, perished with heat, hunger,
thirst, and fatigue; others returned to their homes, ashamed of their
imprudence, saying, _they really did not know why they had gone_.
Among those that embarked, some were shipwrecked, or given up to the
Saracens, against whom they had set out to fight; many, say the old
chronicles, gathered the palms of martyrdom, and offered the infidels
the edifying spectacle of the firmness and courage the Christian
religion is capable of inspiring at the most tender age as well as at
the more mature.
Such of these children as reached Ptolemais must have created terror
as well as astonishment, by making the Christians of the East believe
that Europe had no longer any government or laws, no longer any wise or
prudent men, either in the councils of princes or those of the Church.
Nothing more completely demonstrates the spirit of these times than the
indifference with which such disorders were witnessed. No authority
interfered, either to stop or prevent the madness; and when it was
announced to the pope that death had swept away the flower of the
youth of France and Germany, he contented himself with saying,—“These
children reproach us with having fallen asleep, whilst they were flying
to the assistance of the Holy Land.”[176]
The sovereign pontiff, in order to accomplish his designs, and rekindle
the enthusiasm of the faithful, found it necessary to strike the
imagination of the nations vividly, and to present a grand spectacle
to the Christian world. Innocent resolved to assemble a general
council at Rome, to deliberate upon the state of the Church and the
fate of the Christians of the East. “The necessity for succouring the
Holy Land,” said he in his letters of convocation, “and the hope of
conquering the Saracens, are greater than ever; we renew our cries and
our prayers to you, to excite you to this noble enterprise. No one can
imagine,” added Innocent, “that God has need of your arms to deliver
Jerusalem; but he offers you an opportunity of showing your penitence,
and proving your love for him. Oh, my brethren, how many advantages
has not the Christian Church already derived from the scourges that
have desolated her, and desolate her still! How many crimes have been
expiated by repentance! How many virtues revive at the fire of charity!
How many conversions are made among sinners by the complaining voice of
Jerusalem! Bless, then, the ingenious mercy, the generous artifice of
Jesus Christ, who seeks to touch your hearts, to seduce your piety, and
is willing to owe to his misled disciples a victory which he holds in
his all-powerful hand.”[177]
The pope afterwards compares Jesus Christ banished from his heritage,
to one of the kings of the earth who might be driven from his
dominions. “Where are the vassals,” added he, “who will not risk their
fortunes and their lives to restore their sovereign to his kingdom?
Such of the subjects and servants of the monarch as shall have done
nothing for his cause, ought they not to be ranked with the rebels,
and be subjected to the punishment due to revolt and treason? It is
thus that Jesus Christ will treat those who remain indifferent to the
insults heaped upon him, and refuse to take up arms to fight against
his enemies.”
To raise the hopes and the courage of the Christians, the holy father
terminated his exhortation to the faithful, by saying, that “the power
of Mahomet drew towards its end; for that power was nothing but the
beast of the Apocalypse, which was not to extend beyond the number of
six hundred years,[178] and already six centuries were accomplished.”
These last words of the pope were sustained by the popular predictions
which were spread throughout the West, and created a belief that the
destruction of the Saracens was at hand.[179]
As in preceding crusades, the sovereign pontiff promised all who should
take arms against the infidels, the remission of their sins and the
especial protection of the Church. Upon so important an occasion, the
head of the Christians laid open the treasures of divine mercy to all
the faithful, in proportion to their zeal and their gifts. All prelates
and ecclesiastics, as well as the inhabitants of cities and countries,
were invited to raise a certain number of warriors, and support them
for three years, according to their means. The pope exhorted princes
and nobles who would not take the cross, to second the zeal of the
Crusaders in every way in their power; the head of the Church demanded
of all the faithful, prayers; of the rich, alms and tributes; of
knights, an example of courage; of maritime cities, vessels; he himself
engaging to make the greatest sacrifices. Processions were to be made
every month in all parishes, in order to obtain the benedictions of
Heaven; all the efforts, all the vows, all the thoughts of Christians
were to be directed towards the object of the holy war. That nothing
might divert the faithful from the expedition against the Saracens, the
Holy See revoked the indulgences granted to those who abandoned their
homes to go and fight against the Albigeois in Languedoc, or the Moors
on the other side of the Pyrenees.
It is plain that the sovereign pontiff neglected nothing that could
render the success of the holy enterprise more certain. A modern
historian justly remarks, that he employed every means, even such as
were not likely to succeed; for he wrote to the sultan of Damascus
and Cairo, inviting him to replace the holy city in the hands of the
servants of the true God. Innocent said in his letter, that God had
chosen the infidels as his instruments of vengeance; that he had
permitted Saladin to get possession of Jerusalem, in order to punish
the sins of the Christians; but that the day of deliverance was come,
and that the Lord, disarmed by the prayers of his people, was about to
restore the heritage of Jesus Christ. The sovereign pontiff counselled
the sultan to avoid the effusion of blood, and prevent the desolation
of his empire.
This was not the first time that the head of the Church had addressed
prayers and warnings to the Mussulman powers. Two years before he had
written to the sultan of Aleppo, in the hope of bringing him back to
the way of evangelical truth, and making him a faithful auxiliary of
the Christians. All these attempts, which ended in nothing, clearly
prove that the pope was perfectly unacquainted with the spirit and
character of the Mussulmans. The sovereign pontiff was not more
fortunate when, in his letters, he desired the patriarch of Jerusalem
to use his utmost endeavours to arrest the progress of corruption and
licentiousness among the Christians of Palestine. The Christians of
Syria made no change in their morals, and all the passions maintained
their reign amongst them; whilst the Mussulmans fortified the holy city
that was demanded of them, and employed themselves in arming against
the attacks of the enemies of Islamism.
Nothing could exceed the ardour and activity of the sovereign pontiff.
History can scarcely follow him, whilst seeking in every direction
enemies against the Mussulmans; appealing, by turns, to the patriarchs
of Alexandria and Antioch, and to all the princes of Armenia and
Syria. His eye took in at one view both East and West. His letters
and ambassadors passed unceasingly throughout Europe. He sent the
convocation for the council and the bull of the crusade into all the
provinces of Christendom; and his apostolic exhortations resounded from
the shores of the Danube and the Vistula to the banks of the Tigris and
the Thames.[180]
Commissaries were chosen to make the decisions of the Holy See known to
all Christians: their mission was to preach the holy war, and reform
manners; to invoke at the same time the knowledge of the learned and
the courage of warriors. In many provinces, the mission of preaching
the crusade was confided to the bishops; Cardinal Peter Robert de
Courçon, who was then in France, as legate of the pope, received great
powers from the Holy See; and travelled through the kingdom, exhorting
Christians to take up the cross and arms.
The cardinal de Courçon had been in his youth the disciple of Foulke of
Neuilly, and had gained great celebrity by his eloquence. The multitude
flocked from all parts to hear so distinguished a preacher of the
Word, clothed in all the splendour of Romish power. “The legate,” says
Fleury, “had the power of regulating everything that was connected
with tournaments; and, which will appear more singular, the faculty of
granting a certain indulgence to those who were present at the sermons
in which he preached the crusade.” Faithful to the spirit of the
religion of Jesus Christ, the cardinal de Courçon gave the cross to all
Christians who asked for it, without reflecting that women, children,
old men, the deaf, the blind, the lame, could not make war against the
Saracens; or that an army could not be formed as the Gospel composed
the feast of the father of the family. Thus this liberty of entering
into the holy bands, accorded without distinction or choice, only
disgusted the barons and knights, and cooled the ardour of the common
soldiers.[181]
Among the orators whom the pope associated with the cardinal de
Courçon, one of the most remarkable was James of Vitri, whom the Church
had already placed in the rank of its celebrated doctors. Whilst he
preached the crusade in the different provinces of France,[182] the
fame of his virtues and talents extended even to the East. The canons
of Ptolemaïs demanded him of the pope as their pastor and bishop; and
the wishes of the Christians of Palestine were immediately granted.
James of Vitri, after having excited the warriors of the West to take
arms, became afterwards a witness of their labours, and related them in
a history which has come down to our times.
The preaching of the holy war awakened everywhere the charity of the
faithful. Philip Augustus gave up the fortieth part of his territorial
revenues towards the expenses of the crusade, and a great number of
nobles and prelates followed his example.[183] As boxes had been
placed in all churches to receive the alms of the charitable, these
alms brought considerable sums into the hands of the cardinal de
Courçon, who was accused of having appropriated to himself the gifts
offered to Jesus Christ. These accusations were the more eagerly
received, from the legate having taken upon him to exercise, in the
name of the Holy See, an authority which was displeasing to both the
monarch and his people. The cardinal, without the approbation of the
king, levied taxes, enrolled warriors, forgave debts, lavished both
rewards and punishments, and, in a word, usurped all the prerogatives
of sovereignty. The exercise of such an unbounded power was the
cause of trouble to all the provinces.[184] To prevent disorders,
Philip Augustus thought it necessary to lay down regulations which
should specify to the general council, the individual position of the
Crusaders, and the exemptions and privileges they were to enjoy.
Whilst the cardinal de Courçon continued to preach the crusade
throughout the provinces of France, the archbishop of Canterbury
was earnestly engaged in inciting the people of England to take up
arms against the infidels. During a length of time, the kingdom of
England had been troubled by the violent contentions of the commons,
the barons, and even the clergy, who had taken advantage of the
excommunications[185] launched by the pope against King John, to
obtain a confirmation of their liberties. The English monarch, when
subscribing the conditions that had been dictated to him, had yielded
much more to necessity and force, than to his own inclinations; he
wished earnestly to retract what he had granted, and in order to place
his crown under the protection of the Church, he took the cross, and
swore to go and fight against the Saracens. The sovereign pontiff
placed faith in the submission and promises of the king of England; and
after having preached a crusade against this prince, whom he accused of
being an enemy of the Church, he employed the whole authority of the
Holy See, and all the thunders of religion in his defence.
King John had no other motive in taking the cross but to deceive
the pope, and obtain the protection of the Church; the sign of the
Crusaders was assumed by him only as a means of preserving his power;
a false and deceitful policy, which was soon unmasked, and, without
doubt, assisted much in diminishing the public enthusiasm for the holy
war. The barons of England, in their turn excommunicated by the pope,
employed themselves in defending their liberties, and paid no attention
to the holy orators who called upon them to embark for Asia.
The empire of Germany was not less disturbed than the kingdom of
England. Otho of Saxony, after having been, during ten years, the
object of all the predilections of the Holy See, drew upon himself
all at once the implacable hatred of Innocent, by putting forth some
claims to certain domains of the Church, and to the kingdom of Naples
and Sicily. Not only was he himself excommunicated, but the cities
even that remained faithful to him were placed under an interdict. The
sovereign pontiff opposed Frederick II., son of Henry VI., to Otho, in
the same manner as he had opposed Otho to Philip of Swabia. Germany and
Italy were immediately in a state of agitation and trouble. Frederick,
who was crowned king of the Romans at Aix la Chapelle, took the cross,
from a sentiment of gratitude, and with the hope of securing the
support of the Holy See in ascending the imperial throne.
Otho meanwhile neglected no means of preserving the empire, and
resisting the views and undertakings of the court of Rome. He made
war against the pope, and allied himself with all the enemies of
Philip Augustus, who had declared for Frederick. A formidable league,
composed of the king of England and the counts of Flanders, Holland,
and Boulogne, threatened France with an invasion. The capital and
provinces of that kingdom were already shared among the leaders of
this league, when Philip gained the celebrated battle of Bouvines.
This memorable victory[186] secured the independence and honour of the
French monarchy, and restored peace to Europe. Otho, conquered, lost
his allies, and sunk beneath the thunders of the Church.
The period was now arrived at which the council summoned by the
pope was to meet. From all parts of Europe, ecclesiastics, nobles,
princes, and the ambassadors of princes, repaired to the capital of the
Christian world. The deputies from Antioch and Alexandria, with the
patriarchs of Constantinople and Jerusalem, came to Rome to implore the
support of the nations of Christendom; the ambassadors of Frederick,
Philip Augustus, and the kings of England and Hungary, in the names
of their sovereigns, came to take their places in the council. This
assembly, which represented the universal Church, and in which were
nearly five hundred bishops and archbishops, and more than a hundred
abbots and prelates from all the provinces of the East and West, took
place in the church of the Lateran,[187] and was presided over by the
sovereign pontiff. Innocent opened the council by a sermon, in which
he deplored the errors of his age and the misfortunes of the Church.
After having exhorted the clergy and the faithful, to sanctify by their
morals, the measures he was about to take against heretics and the
Saracens, he represented Jerusalem as clothed in mourning, exhibiting
the chains of her captivity, and calling upon all the prophets to lend
their voices to reach the hearts of the Christians.
“Oh! ye,” said Jerusalem by the mouth of the pontiff, “who pass along
the public roads, behold, and see if ye have ever witnessed grief like
mine. Hasten then all, O ye that love me, to deliver me from the depth
of my miseries! I, who was the queen of all nations, am now subjected
to a tribute; I, who was formerly filled with people, am now left
desolate and almost alone! The roads of Sion mourn, because no one
comes to my solemnities. My enemies have crushed down my head; all
my sacred places are profaned; the Holy Sepulchre, once so splendid,
is covered with disgrace; there, where of late the Son of God was
adored, worship is now offered up to the son of perdition and hell. The
children of the stranger load me with outrages, and, pointing to the
cross of Jesus, say to me, _Thou hast placed thy trust in vile wood; we
shall see whether this wood can save thee in the hour of danger_.”[188]
Innocent after having thus made the mourning Jerusalem eloquent,
conjured the faithful to take pity on her misfortunes, and arm for
her deliverance. He terminated his exhortation by these words, which
breathe both his grief and his ardent zeal:—“My beloved brethren, I
give myself up entirely to you; if you think it best, I promise to go
in person with the kings, princes, and nations; you shall see if, by
my cries and my prayers, I shall be able to excite them to fight for
the Lord, to avenge the insults of the crucified, whom our sins have
banished from the land wetted with his blood, and sanctified with the
mystery of our redemption.”
The discourse of the pontiff was listened to in religious silence;
but as Innocent spoke of several objects at the same time, and as his
oratory was full of allegories, he did not at all succeed in awakening
the enthusiasm of the assembly. The fathers of the council appeared to
be not less affected by the abuses introduced into the Church, than
by the reverses of the Christians of the East; in the first place the
assembly employed itself in endeavouring to find means to reform
ecclesiastical discipline, and check the progress of heresy.
In a declaration of faith, the council explained the doctrine of
Christians, and recalled to their minds the symbol of evangelical
belief. They opposed truth to error, persuasion to violence, and the
virtues of the Gospel to the passions of sectarians and innovators:
happy would it then have been for the Christian church, if the pope
had followed this example of moderation; and if, whilst defending the
rights of religion, he had not forgotten the rights of sovereigns
and humanity. By an apostolic decree, proclaimed amidst the council,
Innocent deposed the count of Thoulouse, who was considered the
protector of heresy, and gave his states to Simon de Montfort, who had
fought against, or rather slaughtered the Albigeois.
Innocent could not pardon the count of Thoulouse for having provoked a
war which had agitated Christendom, and suspended the execution of his
designs for the Eastern crusade. The violent policy of the sovereign
pontiff aimed at striking terror into all heretics, and encouraging
Christians to arm for the cause of Jesus Christ and that of his vicar
upon earth.
After having condemned the new errors, and pronounced the anathemas
of the Church against all who strayed from the way of the faith, the
pontiff and the fathers of the council gave their attention to the
Christians of the East, and the means of promptly succouring the
Holy Land. All the dispositions expressed in the bull of convocation
were confirmed; it was decreed that all ecclesiastics should pay the
twentieth of their revenues towards the expenses of the crusade; that
the pope and the cardinals should pay the tenth of theirs, and that
there should be a truce of four years among all Christian princes.
The council launched the thunders of excommunication against all
princes that should molest the march of pilgrims, and against all
that should furnish infidels with provisions or arms: the sovereign
pontiff promised to direct the preparations for the war, to contribute
three thousand silver marks and to supply, at his own expense, several
vessels for the transport of the Crusaders.
The decisions of the council and the speeches of the pope made a
profound impression upon the minds of the western Christians. All the
preachers of the holy war were formally directed to recall the faithful
to a sense of penitence, and to prohibit dances, tournaments, and
public sports; to reform morals and to revive in all hearts the love
of religion and virtue. They were commanded, after the example of the
sovereign pontiff, to make the complaints of Jerusalem resound in the
palaces of princes; and to earnestly solicit monarchs and nobles to
assume the cross, so that the people might be induced to do so likewise.
The decrees concerning the holy wars were published in all the churches
of the West; in several provinces, particularly in the north, of
Europe, the prodigies and miraculous apparitions that had excited
enthusiasm at the period of the first crusades, again became common;
luminous crosses appeared in the heavens, and made the inhabitants of
Cologne and the cities in the vicinity of the Rhine believe that God
favoured the holy enterprise, and that the divine power promised the
defeat and ruin of the infidels to the arms of the Crusaders.
The orators redoubled their ardour and zeal to engage the faithful
to take a part in the holy war. From the pulpits imprecations were
poured forth against the Saracens, always accompanied by a repetition
of the words of Christ: “I am come to establish war.” The eloquence
of prelates, bishops, and pastors had no other aim than summoning
all Christian warriors to arms. The voices of preachers were not the
only trumpet-calls; poetry herself, who had but recently revived in
the southern provinces of France, chose the holy expeditions as the
themes of her songs; and the profane muse of the troubadours mingled
their notes with the animated words of the sacred orators. The Pierres
d’Auvergne, the Ponces de Capdeuil, the Folquets de Romano, ceased to
sing the love of ladies and the courtesy of knights, to celebrate in
their verses, the sufferings of Christ and the captivity of Jerusalem.
“The times are come,” said they, “in which it will be seen who are
the men worthy of serving the Eternal. God now calls upon the valiant
and chivalrous; they shall be his soldiers for ever, who, knowing how
to suffer for their faith, and fight for God, shall prove themselves
frank, generous, loyal, and brave; let the base lovers of life or
seekers for gold remain behind. God now only calls upon the good
and brave. It is his will that his faithful servants should secure
salvation by noble feats of arms; and that glory obtained in fight
should open to them the gates of heaven.”[189]
One of the minstrels of the holy war celebrates in his verses the zeal,
the prudence, and courage of the head of the Church; and to induce the
faithful to assume the cross, sings: “_We have a sure and valorous
guide, the sovereign pontiff Innocent_.”
It then began to be hoped that the father of the Christians would
himself lead the Crusaders, and sanctify the Asiatic expedition by
his presence. The pope, in the council of the Lateran, had expressed
a desire to assume the cross, and to go in person to take possession
of the heritage of Christ; but the state of Europe, the progress of
heresy, and, doubtless, also, the advice of the bishops and cardinals,
prevented the accomplishment of his design.
As germs of dissension still subsisted between several European states,
these discords might be prejudicial to the success of the holy war;
and the pope sent forth emissaries to act as angels of peace; he
himself repairing to Tuscany, to appease the quarrels that had broken
out between the Pisans and Genoese. His words soothed down all angry
passions; at his voice the most implacable enemies swore to forget
their disputes, and unite to combat against the Saracens. His most
ardent wishes appeared about to be fulfilled, and the whole West,
obedient to his sovereign will, was ready to precipitate itself upon
Asia, when he fell suddenly ill, and died, leaving to his successors
the care and honour of finishing so great an enterprise.
Like all men who have exercised great power amidst political tempests,
Innocent, after his death, was, by turns, praised and blamed with all
the exaggeration of love and hatred. Some said he had been summoned
to the heavenly Jerusalem, as God wished to reward his zeal for
the deliverance of the holy places; whilst others had recourse to
miraculous apparitions, and made saints speak in condemnation of his
memory; sometimes he was seen pursued by a dragon, whose purpose was
to inflict justice upon him; and at others he appeared surrounded by
the flames of purgatory. Europe had been in a constant state of trouble
during his pontificate; there was scarcely a kingdom upon which the
wrath of the pontiff had not been poured out; and so many excesses,
so many misfortunes had embittered men’s minds, that it was natural
they should take a pleasure in believing that the vicar of Christ upon
earth was expiating in another life the crimes of this. Innocent,
nevertheless was irreproachable in his manners; at first he had evinced
some degree of moderation; he loved truth and justice; but the unhappy
condition of the Church, the obstacles of all kinds which he met with
in his spiritual[190] government, irritated his character, and drove
him to the excesses of a violent policy; at length, preserving no
propriety or self-command, he burst forth with the ever-memorable and
reprehensible words: “_Sword, sword, spring from the scabbard, and
sharpen thyself to kill_.”[191] As he had undertaken far too much, he
left serious embarrassments to those who might assume the reins of
power after him; and such was the situation in which his policy had
placed the Holy See, that his successors were obliged to follow up his
maxims, and complete both the good and the evil he had begun. From this
period, the history of the crusades will be incessantly interrupted by
the quarrels of popes and princes, and we shall follow the pilgrims
to the Holy Land amidst the clashing of the thunders launched by the
various heads of the Church.
Censius Savelli, cardinal of St. Lucia, was chosen by the conclave to
succeed Innocent, and governed the Church under the name of Honorius
III. On the day after his coronation, the new pope wrote to the king
of Jerusalem, to announce his elevation, and to revive the hopes of the
Christians of Syria. “Let not the death of Innocent,” said he, “depress
your courage; although I am far from being his equal in merit, I will
show the same zeal for the deliverance of the Holy Land; and when the
season shall arrive, will do everything in my power to assist you.” A
pontifical letter, addressed to all bishops, exhorted them to continue
to preach the crusade.
In order to secure success to the Oriental expedition, Innocent had
first endeavoured to re-establish peace in Europe; and certainly
the necessity in which the popes found themselves at such times, to
promote concord among nations, was one of the greatest benefits of
the holy wars. Honorius followed the example of his predecessor, and
was desirous of calming all discords, even such as owed their origin
to the pretensions of the Romish see. Louis VIII., son of Philip
Augustus, at the solicitation of the pontiff, had taken arms against
England, and was not willing to renounce the project of invading a
kingdom so long subjected to the anger of the Church. The pope even
stooped to supplications to disarm the redoubtable enemy of the king
of England. He hoped that England and France, after having suspended
their hostilities, would unite their efforts for the deliverance of
the holy places; but these hopes were never accomplished. Henry III.
ascended the throne of England after the death of John, and took the
cross to secure the favour of the sovereign pontiff; but he had no
idea of quitting his kingdom. The king of France, constantly occupied
with the war against the Albigeois, and perhaps also with the secret
designs of his ambition, satisfied himself with expressing the greatest
respect for the authority of the Holy See, but took no part in the
crusade.[192]
Most of the bishops and prelates of the kingdom, whom the sovereign
pontiff had entreated to present an example of devotedness, exhibited
much greater eagerness and zeal on this occasion than the barons and
knights; many of them took the cross, and prepared to set out for the
East. Frederick, who owed the imperial crown to the protection of the
Church, renewed, in two solemn assemblies, his oath to make war against
the Saracens. The example and promises of the emperor, whatever doubt
might be entertained of their sincerity, had a powerful effect over
the princes and people of Germany. The inhabitants of the banks of the
Rhine, those of Friesland, Bavaria, Saxony, and Norway; the dukes of
Austria, Moravia, Brabant, and Lemburg; the counts of Juliers, Holland,
De Wit, and Loo; with the archbishop of Mayence and the bishops of
Bamberg, Passau, Strasburg, Munster, and Utrecht, emulatively ranged
themselves under the banners of the cross, and prepared to quit the
West.
Among the princes who took the oath to fight against the Mussulmans,
was Andrew II., king of Hungary. Bela, the father of the Hungarian
monarch, had made a vow to go to the Holy Land; but not having been
able to undertake the pilgrimage, he had, on his death-bed, required
his son to accomplish his oath. Andrew, after having taken the cross,
was for a long time detained in his states by the troubles to which
his ambition had given birth, and which he had great difficulty in
suppressing. Gertrude, whom he had married before the fifth crusade,
made enemies of the whole court and nobility by her pride and her
intrigues. This imperious princess[193] committed such extraordinary
insults against the magnates of the kingdom, and inspired them with so
violent a hatred, that they formed conspiracies against her life, and
introduced murderers even into her palace. Disorders and misfortunes
without number followed these crimes, the greatest of which, doubtless,
was the impunity of the guilty.
In such circumstances policy would certainly have pointed it out to
the king of Hungary, as his duty, to remain in his own states; but the
spectacle of so many unpunished crimes, without doubt, alarmed his
weakness, and strengthened his desire of getting at a distance from a
court filled with his enemies. Like his mother, the widow of Bela,[194]
he expected to find in the places consecrated by the sufferings
of Christ, an asylum against the griefs which beset his life; the
Hungarian monarch might likewise think that the holy pilgrimage would
make him more respected by his subjects, and that the Church, ever
armed in favour of royal crusaders, would defend the rights of his
crown better than he himself could. He resolved at length to perform
the vow he had made before his dying father, and earnestly set about
preparations for his departure for Syria.
Andrew then reigned over a vast kingdom,—Hungary, Dalmatia, Croatia,
Bosnia, Galicia, and the province of Lodomira obeyed his laws, and paid
him tribute; and throughout all these provinces, so lately enemies to
the Christians, the crusades were preached. Hordes wandering amidst
forests, listened to the complaints of Sion, and swore to fight against
the infidels. Among the nations of Hungary, who, a century before,
had been the terror of the pilgrim companions of Peter the Hermit, a
crowd of warriors eagerly took the cross, and promised to follow their
monarch to the Holy Land.
Vessels and fleets for the transport of the Crusaders were equipped
in all the ports of the Baltic, the ocean, and the Mediterranean; and
yet, at the very same time, a crusade was being preached against the
inhabitants of Prussia, who still remained in the darkness of idolatry.
Poland, Saxony, Norway, and Livonia armed their warriors to overthrow
the idols of paganism on the banks of the Oder and the Vistula, whilst
the other nations of the West were preparing to make war against the
Saracens in the plains of Judæa and Syria.
The still savage people of Prussia, separated by their religion and
their customs from the other inhabitants of Europe, presented in the
centre of Christendom, in the thirteenth century, a living picture
of ancient paganism, and of the superstitions of the old nations of
the North. Their character and their manners are worthy of fixing the
attention of both the historian and his readers, fatigued, perhaps, by
the constant repetition of the preaching of holy wars, and the distant
expeditions of the Crusaders.
Much discussion has taken place concerning the origin of the ancient
inhabitants of Prussia, and we have nothing on this head but
conjectures and systems. The Prussians were, in person, like the
Germans;[195] blue eyes, a spirited and lively look, ruddy cheeks, a
lofty stature, a robust form, and light hair: this resemblance to the
Germans was produced by climate, and not by the mixture of the nations;
the inhabitants of Prussia had more affinity with the Lithuanians,
whose language they spoke, and whom they imitated in their dress. They
lived by the chase, fishing, and the flesh of their flocks; agriculture
was not unknown to them; their mares furnished them with milk, their
sheep with wool, their bees with honey; in commercial transactions they
had very little to do with money: to prepare flax and leather, to split
stones, to sharpen their arms, and to fashion yellow amber, constituted
the whole of their industry. They marked time by knots tied in thongs,
and the hours by the words _twilight_, _light_, _dawn_, _sunrise_,
_evening_, _the first sleep_, &c. The appearance of the Pleïades
directed them in their labours.
The months of the year bore the names of the productions of the earth,
and of the objects presented to their eyes by each season; they knew
the month of crows, the month of pigeons, that of cuckoos, of the green
birch-trees, of the linden-trees, of corn, of the departure of the
birds, of the fall of leaves, &c. Wars, the conflagrations of great
forests, hurricanes, and inundations, formed the principal epochs of
their history.
The people dwelt in huts built of earth, the rich in houses constructed
of oak timber; there was not a city in Prussia. Some strong castles
appeared upon the hills. This nation, though savage, recognised
princes and nobles; he who had conquered enemies, and he who excelled
in taming horses, attained nobility. The lords held the right of
life and death over their vassals; the Prussians made no wars for
the purpose of conquering an enemy’s country, but solely to defend
their homes and their gods. Their arms consisted of the lance and the
javelin, which they handled with much skill. The warriors named their
chief, who was blessed by the high priest; before going to battle, the
Prussians selected one of their prisoners of war, fastened him to a
tree, and transfixed him with arrows.[196] They believed in omens; the
eagle, the white pigeon, the crow, the stork, the bustard, promised
victory; the stag, the wolf, the lynx, the mouse, the sight of a sick
person, or even of an old woman, announced defeats or reverses; when
presenting their hand, they offered peace; when swearing to treaties,
they placed one hand upon their breast and the other upon the sacred
oak. When victorious, they tried their prisoners of war, and the most
distinguished among them expired at the stake,—a sacrifice to the gods
of the country.
Amidst all their barbarous customs, the Prussians had the reputation of
respecting the laws of hospitality. The stranger and the shipwrecked
mariner were sure to find an asylum and succour among them; intrepid
in war, simple and mild in peace, grateful but vindictive, respecting
misfortune, they had more virtues than vices, and were only corrupted
by the excess of their superstition.
The Prussians believed in another life; they called hell, _Peckla_;
chains, thick darkness, and fetid waters constituted the punishment of
the wicked. In the Elysian fields, which they called _Rogus_, beautiful
women, banquets, delicious drink, dances, soft couches, and fine
clothes were the rewards of virtue.
In a place called _Remové_, arose a flourishing oak, which had
witnessed the passage of a hundred generations, whose colossal trunk
contained three images of their principal gods; the foliage daily
dripped with the blood of immolated victims; there the high priest had
established his abode, and there administered justice. The priests
alone ventured to approach this holy place; the guilty slunk from it
trembling. _Perkunas_, the god of thunder and fire, was the first among
the deities of the Prussians; he had the countenance of an angry man,
his beard was curled, and his head was surrounded with flames. The
people called claps of thunder, the march or steps of Perkunas. Near
the grove of Remové, on the banks of a sulphureous spring, an eternal
fire burned in honour of the god of thunder.
Near Perkunas, _Potrimpus_ appeared, in the form of a young man,
wearing a crown of wheat-ears; he was adored as the god of waters and
rivers; he preserved mankind from the scourge of war, and presided over
the pleasures of peace. By a strange contradiction, they offered up to
this pacific divinity, the blood of animals, and that of the captives
slaughtered at the foot of the oak; sometimes children were sacrificed
to him; the priests consecrated the serpent to him, as symbolical of
fortune.
Beneath the shade of the sacred tree, was still another idol, called
_Pycollos_, the god of the dead; he bore the form of an old man, with
grey hair, hollow eyes, and a pale countenance, his head enfolded in a
shroud; his altars were heaps of human bones; the infernal deities were
obedient to his laws; he inspired both grief and terror.
A fourth divinity, _Curko_, whose image ornamented the branches of the
oak of Remové, furnished mankind with the necessaries of life. Every
year, at autumnal seed-time, his image was renewed; it consisted of a
goat-skin, elevated upon a pole eight feet high, crowned with blades
of corn; the priest sacrificed upon a stone, honey, milk, and the
fruits of the earth, whilst the youth of both sexes formed a circle
round the idol.
The Prussians celebrated several other festivals during spring and
summer, in honour of the same god; at the spring festival, which took
place on the 22nd of March, they addressed Curko in these words: “It is
thou who hast chased away winter, and brought fair and fine days back
to us; by thee the gardens and the fields rebloom; by thee the forests
and the woods resume their verdure.” The inhabitants of Prussia had a
crowd of other gods, whom they invoked for their flocks, their bees,
the forests, the waters, harvest, commerce, the peace of families, and
conjugal happiness; a divinity with a hundred eyes watched over the
threshold of houses; one god guarded the yard, another the stable;
the hunter heard the spirit of the forest howl amidst the tree-tops;
the mariner recommended himself to the god of the sea. _Laimelé_ was
invoked by women in labour, and spun the lives of mankind. Tutelary
divinities arrested the progress of conflagrations, caused the sap
of the birch-trees to flow, guarded roads, and awakened workmen and
labourers before the dawn of day. The air, the earth, the waters were
peopled by gnomes or little gods, and with ghosts and goblins, which
they called _arvans_. It was believed by all that the oak was a tree
dear to the gods, and that its shade offered an asylum against the
violence of men or the assaults of destiny. In addition to the oak of
Remové, the Prussians had several other trees of the same kind, which
they considered the sanctuaries of their divinities. They consecrated
also linden-trees, firs, maples, and even whole forests; they held in
reverence fountains, lakes, and mountains; they adored serpents, owls,
storks, and other animals: in short, in the countries inhabited by
the Prussians, all nature was filled with divinities, and, up to the
fourteenth century, it might be said of a European nation, as Bossuet
said of ancient paganism, “_Everything there was god, except God
himself_.”
A long time before the crusades, St. Adalbert had left his native
country, Bohemia, to penetrate into the forests of Prussia, and
endeavour to convert the Prussians to Christianity; but his
eloquence, his moderation, or his charity, could not disarm the fury
of the priests of Perkunas. Adalbert died, pierced with arrows, and
received the palm of martyrdom; other missionaries shared the same
fate; their blood arose against their murderers, and the report of
their death, together with an account of the cruelties of a barbarous
people, everywhere cried aloud upon the Christians of the North for
vengeance. The neighbouring nations were constantly entertaining the
resolution to take arms against the idolaters of Prussia. An abbot of
the monastery of Oliva, more able, and still further, more fortunate
than his predecessors, undertook the conversion of the pagans of the
Oder and the Vistula, and succeeded, with the assistance of the Holy
See, in getting up a crusade against the worshippers of false gods; a
great number of Christians took the cross, at the summons of the pope,
who promised them eternal life if they fell in fight, and lands and
treasures if they triumphed over the enemies of Christ. The knights of
Christ and the knights of the sword, instituted to subdue the pagans
of Livonia, with the Teutonic knights, who in Palestine rivalled in
power and glory the two other orders of the Temple and the Hospital,
at the first signal flocked to the standards of the army assembled to
invade Prussia, and convert its inhabitants: this war lasted more than
two centuries. In this sanguinary struggle, if the Christian religion
sometimes inspired its combatants with its virtues, the leaders of
this long crusade were much more frequently influenced by vengeance,
ambition, and avarice. The knights of the Teutonic order, whose bravery
almost always amounted to heroism, remained masters of the country
conquered by their arms. These victorious monks never edified the
people they subdued, either by their moderation or their charity; and
were often accused before the tribunal of the head of the Church, of
having converted the Prussians, not to make them servants of Christ,
but to increase the number of their own subjects and slaves.
We have only spoken of the people of Prussia, and of the wars made
against them, to exhibit to our readers a nation and customs almost
unknown to modern scholars even; and to show how far ambition and a
thirst of conquest was able to abuse the spirit of the crusades: we
hasten to return to the expedition that was being prepared against the
Saracens.
Germany considered Frederick II. as the leader of the war about to
be made in Asia; but the new emperor, seated on a throne for a long
time shaken by civil wars, dreading the enterprises of the Italian
republics, and perhaps those of the popes their protectors, thought it
prudent to defer his departure for Palestine.
The zeal of the Crusaders, however, did not abate, and in their
impatience they turned their eyes towards the king of Hungary to
take the command in the holy war. Andrew, accompanied by the duke of
Bavaria, the duke of Austria, and the German nobles who had taken
the cross, set out for the East, at the head of a numerous army, and
repaired to Spalatro, where vessels from Venice, Zara, Ancona, and
other cities of the Adriatic, awaited the Crusaders, to transport them
into Palestine.
In all the countries through which he marched, the king of Hungary was
followed by the benedictions of the people. When he approached the city
of Spalatro, the inhabitants and the clergy came out in procession
to meet him, and conducted him to their principal church, where all
the faithful were assembled to call down the mercy of Heaven upon the
Christian warriors. A few days after, the fleet of the Crusaders left
the port[197] of Spalatro, and set sail for the island of Cyprus,
at which place were met the deputies of the king and the patriarch
of Jerusalem, of the orders of the Temple and St. John, and of the
Teutonic knights.
A crowd of Crusaders, who had embarked at Brindisi, at Genoa, and
at Marseilles, preceded the king of Hungary and his army. Lusignan,
king of Cyprus, and the greater part of his barons, influenced by the
example of so many illustrious princes, took the cross, and promised to
follow them into the Holy Land. All the Crusaders embarked together at
the port of Lemisso, and landed in triumph at Ptolemaïs.
An Arabian historian says, that since the time of Saladin the
Christians had never had so numerous an army in Syria.[198] Thanks to
Heaven were offered up in all the churches, for the powerful aid it
had sent to the Holy Land; but the joy of the Christians of Palestine
was quickly troubled by the serious difficulty in which they found
themselves to procure provisions for such a multitude of pilgrims.
This year (1217) had been barren throughout the richest countries of
Syria;[199] and the vessels from the West had only been laden with
machines of war, arms, and baggage. Deficiency of food was soon felt
among the Crusaders, and led the soldiers to license and robbery;
the Bavarians committed the greatest disorders; pillaging houses and
monasteries, and devastating the neighbouring country; the leaders had
no other means of reëstablishing order and peace in the army, but by
giving the signal for war against the Saracens; and, to save the lands
and dwellings of the Christians, they proposed to their soldiers to
ravage the cities and territories of the infidels.
The whole army, commanded by the kings of Jerusalem, Cyprus, and
Hungary, encamped on the banks of the torrent of Cison. The patriarch
of the holy city, in order to strike the imagination of the Crusaders,
and prevent their forgetting the object of their enterprise, repaired
to the camp, bringing with him a portion of the wood of the true cross,
which he pretended to have been saved at the battle of Tiberias. The
kings and princes came out, barefooted, to meet him, and received with
respect the sign of redemption. This ceremony rekindled the zeal and
enthusiasm of the Crusaders, whose ardent desire now was to fight for
Christ. The army crossed the torrent, and advanced towards the valley
of Jesraël, between Mount Hermon and Mount Gelboé, without meeting
an enemy. The leaders and soldiers bathed in the Jordan, and passed
over the plain of Jericho, and along the shores of the great lake
of Genesareth. The Christian army marched singing spiritual songs;
religion and its remembrances had restored discipline and peace among
them. Every object and place they beheld around them filled them with a
pious veneration for the Holy Land. In this campaign, which was a true
pilgrimage, they made a great number of prisoners without fighting a
battle, and returned to Ptolemaïs loaded with booty.
At the period of this crusade, Malek-Adel no longer reigned over either
Syria or Egypt. After having mounted the throne of Saladin by injustice
and violence, he had descended from it voluntarily; the conqueror of
all obstacles, and having no longer a wish to form, he became sensible
of the emptiness of human grandeur, and gave up the reins of an empire
that nobody had the power to dispute with him. Melik Kamel, the eldest
of his sons, was sultan of Cairo; and Corradin[200] was sultan of
Damascus. His other sons had received, as their shares of the empire,
the principalities of Bosra, Baalbec, Mesopotamia, &c. Malek-Adel,
relieved from the cares of government, visited his children by turns,
and preserved peace among them. All he had reserved of his past power
was the ascendancy of a great renown, and of a glory acquired by
numberless heroic exploits; but this ascendancy held princes, people,
and army in subjection. In moments of peril, his counsels became laws:
the soldiers still considered him as their leader; his sons as their
sovereign arbiter; and all Mussulmans as their defender and support.
The new crusade had spread terror among the infidels, but Malek-Adel
calmed their fears by assuring them that the Christians would soon be
divided amongst themselves, and by telling them that this formidable
expedition resembled the storms which howl over Mount Libanus, and
which disperse of themselves: neither the armies of Egypt, nor the
armies of Syria, made their appearance in Judæa; and the Crusaders
assembled at Ptolemaïs were astonished at meeting no enemy to contend
with. The leaders of the Christian army had resolved to direct their
march towards the banks of the Nile; but winter, which was about to
commence, would not permit them to undertake so distant an enterprise.
To employ the soldiers, whom idleness always seduced into license, it
was determined to make an attack upon Mount Tabor, where the Mussulmans
had fortified themselves.
Mount Tabor, so celebrated in the Old and New Testament, arises like
a superb dome amidst the vast plain of Galilee. The declivity of
the mountain is covered with flowers and odoriferous plants; from
the summit of Tabor, which forms a level of a league in extent, may
be seen, travellers say, all the banks of the Jordan, the Lake of
Tiberias, the Sea of Syria, and most of the places in which Christ
performed his miracles.
A church, the erection of which was due to the piety of St. Helena,
stood on the very spot where the transfiguration of Christ took place
in presence of his disciples, and for a length of time attracted crowds
of pilgrims. Two monasteries, built at the summit of Tabor, recalled
for centuries the memory of Moses and Elias, whose names they bore;
but, from the reign of Saladin, the standard of Mahomet had floated
over this holy mountain; the church of St. Helena and the monasteries
of Moses and Elias had been demolished, and upon their ruins was
raised a fortress, from which the Mussulmans constantly threatened the
territories of Ptolemaïs.
It was impossible to ascend Mount Tabor without encountering a thousand
dangers; but nothing intimidated the Christian warriors: the patriarch
of Jerusalem, who marched at their head, showed them the true cross,
and animated them by his example and his eloquent words. Enormous
stones rolled from the heights occupied by the infidels, who poured
down an endless shower of javelins and arrows upon all the roads which
led to the top of the mountain. The valour of the soldiers of the
cross braved all the efforts of the Saracens; the king of Jerusalem
distinguished himself by prodigies of bravery, and killed two emirs
with his own hand. The summit of the mountain being attained, the
Crusaders dispersed the Mussulmans, and pursued them to the gates
of their fortress: nothing could resist their arms. But all at once
several of the leaders began to entertain suspicions regarding the
intentions of the sultan of Damascus; and the fear of a surprise
acted the more strongly on their minds from no one having foreseen
it. Whilst the Mussulmans retired filled with terror behind their
ramparts, a sudden panic seized the conquerors: the Crusaders renounced
the attack of the fortress, and the whole Christian army retreated
without effecting anything; as if it had only ascended Mount Tabor to
contemplate the spot rendered sacred by the transfiguration of the
Saviour.
We could scarcely yield faith to the account of this precipitate
flight, without the evidence of contemporary historians;[201] the
ancient chronicles, according to their custom, do not fail to attribute
to treachery an event they cannot comprehend; it appears to us,
however, much more natural to suppose that the retreat of the Crusaders
was produced by the discord and want of foresight which prevailed in
all their undertakings.[202]