manner. On his arrival at Mersburg he found the country strewed with the
mangled corpses of the Jew-killers, and demanded of the king of Hungary
for what reason his people had set upon them. The latter detailed the
atrocities they had committed, and made it so evident to Godfrey that the
Hungarians had only acted in self-defence, that the high-minded leader
declared himself satisfied, and passed on without giving or receiving
molestation. On his arrival at Philippopoli he was informed for the first
time of the imprisonment of the count of Vermandois. He immediately sent
messengers to the emperor, demanding the count's release, and threatening,
in case of refusal, to lay waste the country with fire and sword. After
waiting a day at Philippopoli, he marched on to Adrianople, where he was
met by his messengers returning with the emperor's refusal. Godfrey, the
bravest and most determined of the leaders of the Crusade, was not a man
to swerve from his word, and the country was given up to pillage. Alexius
here committed another blunder. No sooner did he learn from dire
experience that the Crusader was not an utterer of idle threats, than he
consented to the release of the prisoner. As he had been unjust in the
first instance, he became cowardly in the second, and taught his enemies
(for so the Crusaders were forced to consider themselves) a lesson which
they took care to remember to his cost, that they could hope nothing from
his sense of justice, but every thing from his fears. Godfrey remained
encamped for several weeks in the neighbourhood of Constantinople, to the
great annoyance of Alexius, who sought by every means to extort from him
the homage he had extorted from Vermandois. Sometimes he acted as if at
open and declared war with the Crusaders, and sent his troops against
them. Sometimes he refused to supply them with food, and ordered the
markets to be shut against them, while at other times he was all for peace
and good-will, and sent costly presents to Godfrey. The honest,
straightforward Crusader was at last so wearied by his false kindness, and
so pestered by his attacks, that, allowing his indignation to get the
better of his judgment, he gave up the country around Constantinople to be
plundered by his soldiers. For six days the flames of the farm-houses
around struck terror into the heart of Alexius; but, as Godfrey
anticipated, they convinced him of his error. Fearing that Constantinople
itself would be the next object of attack, he sent messengers to demand an
interview with Godfrey, offering at the same time to leave his son as a
hostage for his good faith. Godfrey agreed to meet him; and, whether to
put an end to these useless dissensions, or for some other unexplained
reason, he rendered homage to Alexius as his liege lord. He was thereupon
loaded with honours, and, according to a singular custom of that age,
underwent the ceremony of the "adoption of honour" as son to the emperor.
Godfrey and his brother Baudouin de Bouillon conducted themselves with
proper courtesy on this occasion, but were not able to restrain the
insolence of their followers, who did not conceive themselves bound to
keep any terms with a man so insincere as he had shewn himself. One
barbarous chieftain, Count Robert of Paris, carried his insolence so far
as to seat himself upon the throne; an insult which Alexius merely
resented with a sneer, but which did not induce him to look with less
mistrust upon the hordes that were still advancing.
It is impossible, notwithstanding his treachery, to avoid feeling some
compassion for the emperor, whose life at this time was rendered one long
scene of misery by the presumption of the Crusaders, and his not
altogether groundless fears of the evil they might inflict upon him,
should any untoward circumstance force the current of their ambition to
the conquest of his empire. His daughter Anna Comnena feelingly deplores
his state of life at this time, and a learned German[4], in a recent work,
describes it, on the authority of the princess, in the following manner:
"To avoid all occasion of offence to the Crusaders, Alexius complied with
all their whims and their (on many occasions) unreasonable demands, even
at the expense of great bodily exertion, at a time when he was suffering
severely under the gout, which eventually brought him to his grave. No
Crusader who desired an interview with him was refused access; he listened
with the utmost patience to the long-winded harangues which their
loquacity or zeal continually wearied him with; he endured, without
expressing any impatience, the unbecoming and haughty language which they
permitted themselves to employ towards him, and severely reprimanded his
officers when they undertook to defend the dignity of the imperial station
from these rude assaults, for he trembled with apprehension at the
slightest disputes, lest they might become the occasion of greater evil.
Though the counts often appeared before him with trains altogether
unsuitable to their dignity and to his--sometimes with an entire troop,
which completely filled the royal apartment--the emperor held his peace.
He listened to them at all hours; he often seated himself on his throne at
day-break to attend to their wishes and requests, and the evening twilight
saw him still in the same place. Very frequently he could not snatch time
to refresh himself with meat and drink. During many nights he could not
obtain any repose, and was obliged to indulge in an unrefreshing sleep
upon his throne, with his head resting on his hands. Even this slumber was
continually disturbed by the appearance and harangues of some
newly-arrived rude knights. When all the courtiers, wearied out by the
efforts of the day and by night-watching, could no longer keep themselves
on their feet, and sank down exhausted--some upon benches and others on
the floor--Alexius still rallied his strength to listen with seeming
attention to the wearisome chatter of the Latins, that they might have no
occasion or pretext for discontent. In such a state of fear and anxiety,
how could Alexius comport himself with dignity and like an emperor?"
[4] M. Wilken's _Geschichte der Kreuzzüge_.
Alexius, however, had himself to blame, in a great measure, for the
indignities he suffered: owing to his insincerity, the Crusaders
mistrusted him so much, that it became at last a common saying, that the
Turks and Saracens were not such inveterate foes to the Western or Latin
Christians as the Emperor Alexius and the Greeks[5]. It would be needless
in this sketch, which does not profess to be so much a history of the
Crusades, as of the madness of Europe, from which they sprang, to detail
the various acts of bribery and intimidation, cajolery and hostility, by
which Alexius contrived to make each of the leaders in succession, as they
arrived, take the oath of allegiance to him as their suzerain. One way or
another he exacted from each the barren homage on which he had set his
heart, and they were then allowed to proceed into Asia Minor. One only,
Raymond de St. Gilles count of Toulouse, obstinately refused the homage.
[5] Wilken.
Their residence in Constantinople was productive of no good to the armies
of the cross. Bickerings and contentions on the one hand, and the
influence of a depraved and luxurious court on the other, destroyed the
elasticity of their spirits, and cooled the first ardour of their
enthusiasm. At one time the army of the Count of Toulouse was on the point
of disbanding itself; and, had not their leader energetically removed them
across the Bosphorus, this would have been the result. Once in Asia, their
spirits in some degree revived, and the presence of danger and difficulty
nerved them to the work they had undertaken. The first operation of the
war was the siege of Nice, to gain possession of which all their efforts
were directed.
Godfrey of Bouillon and the Count of Vermandois were joined under its
walls by each host in succession as it left Constantinople. Among the
celebrated Crusaders who fought at this siege we find, besides the leaders
already mentioned, the brave and generous Tancred, whose name and fame
have been immortalised in the _Gerusalemme Liberata_, the valorous Bishop
of Puy, Baldwin, afterwards king of Jerusalem, and Peter the Hermit, now
an almost solitary soldier, shorn of all the power and influence he had
formerly possessed. Kilij Aslaun the sultan of Roum and chief of the
Seljukian Turks, whose deeds, surrounded by the false halo of romance, are
familiar to the readers of Tasso, under the name of Soliman, marched to
defend this city, but was defeated after several obstinate engagements, in
which the Christians shewed a degree of heroism that quite astonished him.
The Turkish chief had expected to find a wild undisciplined multitude,
like that under Peter the Hermit, without leaders capable of enforcing
obedience; instead of which, he found the most experienced leaders of the
age at the head of armies that had just fanaticism enough to be ferocious,
but not enough to render them ungovernable. In these engagements, many
hundreds fell on both sides; and on both sides the most revolting
barbarity was practised: the Crusaders cut off the heads of the fallen
Mussulmans, and sent them in panniers to Constantinople, as trophies of
their victory. After the temporary defeat of Kilij Aslaun, the siege of
Nice was carried on with redoubled vigour. The Turks defended themselves
with the greatest obstinacy, and discharged showers of poisoned arrows
upon the Crusaders. When any unfortunate wretch was killed under the
walls, they let down iron hooks from above, and drew the body up, which,
after stripping and mutilating, they threw back again at the besiegers.
The latter were well supplied with provisions, and for six-and-thirty days
the siege continued without any relaxation of the efforts on either side.
Many tales are told of the almost superhuman heroism of the Christian
leaders--how one man put a thousand to flight; and how the arrows of the
faithful never missed their mark. One anecdote of Godfrey of Bouillon,
related by Albert of Aix, is worth recording, not only as shewing the high
opinion entertained of his valour, but as shewing the contagious credulity
of the armies--a credulity which as often led them to the very verge of
defeat, as it incited them to victory. One Turk, of gigantic stature, took
his station day by day on the battlements of Nice, and, bearing an
enormous bow, committed great havoc among the Christian host. Not a shaft
he sped but bore death upon its point; and although the Crusaders aimed
repeatedly at his breast, and he stood in the most exposed position, their
arrows fell harmless at his feet. He seemed to be invulnerable to attack;
and a report was soon spread abroad, that he was no other than the Arch
Fiend himself, and that mortal hand could not prevail against him. Godfrey
of Bouillon, who had no faith in the supernatural character of the
Mussulman, determined, if possible, to put an end to the dismay which was
rapidly paralysing the exertions of his best soldiers. Taking a huge
cross-bow, he stood forward in front of the army, to try the steadiness of
his hand against the much-dreaded archer: the shaft was aimed directly at
his heart, and took fatal effect. The Moslem fell amid the groans of the
besieged, and the shouts of _Deus adjuva! Deus adjuva!_ the war-cry of the
besiegers.
At last the Crusaders imagined that they had overcome all obstacles, and
were preparing to take possession of the city, when, to their great
astonishment, they saw the flag of the Emperor Alexius flying from the
battlements. An emissary of the emperor, named Faticius or Tatin, had
contrived to gain admission, with a body of Greek troops, at a point which
the Crusaders had left unprotected, and had persuaded the Turks to
surrender to him rather than to the crusading forces. The greatest
indignation prevailed in the army when this stratagem was discovered, and
the soldiers were, with the utmost difficulty, prevented from renewing the
attack and besieging the Greek emissary.
The army, however, continued its march, and, by some means or other, was
broken into two divisions; some historians say accidentally,[6] while
others affirm by mutual consent, and for the convenience of obtaining
provisions on the way.[7] The one division was composed of the forces
under Bohemund, Tancred, and the Duke of Normandy; while the other, which
took a route at some distance on the right, was commanded by Godfrey of
Bouillon and the other chiefs. The Sultan of Roum, who, after his losses
at Nice, had been silently making great efforts to crush the Crusaders at
one blow, collected in a very short time all the multitudinous tribes that
owed him allegiance, and with an army which, according to a moderate
calculation, amounted to two hundred thousand men, chiefly cavalry, he
fell upon the first division of the Christian host in the valley of
Dorylæum. It was early in the morning of the 1st of July 1097, when the
Crusaders saw the first companies of the Turkish horsemen pouring down
upon them from the hills. Bohemund had hardly time to set himself in
order, and transport his sick and helpless to the rear, when the
overwhelming force of the Orientals was upon him. The Christian army,
composed principally of men on foot, gave way on all sides, and the hoofs
of the Turkish steeds, and the poisoned arrows of their bowmen, mowed them
down by hundreds. After having lost the flower of their chivalry, the
Christians retreated upon their baggage, when a dreadful slaughter took
place. Neither women nor children, nor the sick, were spared. Just as they
were reduced to the last extremity, Godfrey of Bouillon and the Count of
Toulouse made their appearance on the field, and turned the tide of
battle. After an obstinate engagement the Turks fled, and their rich camp
fell into the hands of the enemy. The loss of the Crusaders amounted to
about four thousand men, with several chiefs of renown, among whom were
Count Robert of Paris and William the brother of Tancred. The loss of the
Turks, which did not exceed this number, taught them to pursue a different
mode of warfare. The sultan was far from being defeated. With his still
gigantic army, he laid waste all the country on either side of the
Crusaders. The latter, who were unaware of the tactics of the enemy, found
plenty of provisions in the Turkish camp; but so far from economising
these resources, they gave themselves up for several days to the most
unbounded extravagance. They soon paid dearly for their heedlessness. In
the ravaged country of Phrygia, through which they advanced towards
Antiochetta, they suffered dreadfully for want of food for themselves and
pasture for their cattle. Above them was a scorching sun, almost
sufficient of itself to dry up the freshness of the land, a task which the
firebrands of the sultan had but too surely effected, and water was not to
be had after the first day of their march. The pilgrims died at the rate
of five hundred a day. The horses of the knights perished on the road, and
the baggage which they had aided to transport was either placed upon dogs,
sheep, and swine, or abandoned altogether. In some of the calamities that
afterwards befell them, the Christians gave themselves up to the most
reckless profligacy; but upon this occasion, the dissensions which
prosperity had engendered were all forgotten. Religion, often disregarded,
arose in the stern presence of misfortune, and cheered them as they died
by the promises of eternal felicity.
[6] Fulcher of Chartres; Guibert de Nogent; Vital.
[7] William of Tyre; Mills; Wilken, &c.
At length they reached Antiochetta, where they found water in abundance,
and pastures for their expiring cattle. Plenty once more surrounded them,
and here they pitched their tents. Untaught by the bitter experience of
famine, they again gave themselves up to luxury and waste.
On the 18th of October they sat down before the strong city of Antioch,
the siege of which, and the events to which it gave rise, are among the
most extraordinary incidents of the Crusade. The city, which is situated
on an eminence, and washed by the river Orontes, is naturally a very
strong position, and the Turkish garrison were well supplied with
provisions to endure a long siege. In this respect the Christians were
also fortunate, but unluckily for themselves, unwise. Their force amounted
to three hundred thousand fighting men; and we are informed by Raymond
d'Argilles, that they had so much provision, that they threw away the
greater part of every animal they killed, being so dainty, that they would
only eat particular parts of the beast. So insane was their extravagance,
that in less than ten days famine began to stare them in the face. After
making a fruitless attempt to gain possession of the city by a _coup de
main_, they, starving themselves, sat down to starve out the enemy. But
with want came a cooling of enthusiasm. The chiefs began to grow weary of
the expedition. Baldwin had previously detached himself from the main body
of the army, and, proceeding to Edessa, had intrigued himself into the
supreme power in that little principality. The other leaders were animated
with less zeal than heretofore. Stephen of Chartres and Hugh of Vermandois
began to waver, unable to endure the privations which their own folly and
profusion had brought upon them. Even Peter the Hermit became sick at
heart ere all was over. When the famine had become so urgent that they
were reduced to eat human flesh in the extremity of their hunger, Bohemund
and Robert of Flanders set forth on an expedition to procure a supply.
They were in a slight degree successful; but the relief they brought was
not economised, and in two days they were as destitute as before.
Faticius, the Greek commander and representative of Alexius, deserted with
his division under pretence of seeking for food, and his example was
followed by various bodies of Crusaders.
Misery was rife among those who remained, and they strove to alleviate it
by a diligent attention to signs and omens. These, with extraordinary
visions seen by the enthusiastic, alternately cheered and depressed them
according as they foretold the triumph or pictured the reverses of the
cross. At one time a violent hurricane arose, levelling great trees with
the ground, and blowing down the tents of the Christian leaders. At
another time an earthquake shook the camp, and was thought to
prognosticate some great impending evil to the cause of Christendom. But a
comet which appeared shortly afterwards raised them from the despondency
into which they had fallen; their lively imaginations making it assume the
form of a flaming cross leading them on to victory. Famine was not the
least of the evils they endured. Unwholesome food, and the impure air from
the neighbouring marshes, engendered pestilential diseases, which carried
them off more rapidly than the arrows of the enemy. A thousand of them
died in a day, and it became at last a matter of extreme difficulty to
afford them burial. To add to their misery, each man grew suspicious of
his neighbour; for the camp was infested by Turkish spies, who conveyed
daily to the besieged intelligence of the movements and distresses of the
enemy. With a ferocity, engendered by despair, Bohemund caused two spies,
whom he had detected, to be roasted alive in presence of the army, and
within sight of the battlements of Antioch. But even this example failed
to reduce their numbers, and the Turks continued to be as well informed as
the Christians themselves of all that was passing in the camp.
The news of the arrival of a reinforcement of soldiers from Europe, with
an abundant stock of provisions, came to cheer them when reduced to the
last extremity. The welcome succour landed at St. Simeon, the port of
Antioch, and about six miles from that city. Thitherwards the famishing
Crusaders proceeded in tumultuous bands, followed by Bohemund and the
Count of Toulouse, with strong detachments of their retainers and vassals,
to escort the supplies in safety to the camp. The garrison of Antioch,
forewarned of this arrival, was on the alert, and a corps of Turkish
archers was despatched to lie in ambuscade among the mountains and
intercept their return. Bohemund, laden with provisions, was encountered
in the rocky passes by the Turkish host. Great numbers of his followers
were slain, and he himself had just time to escape to the camp with the
news of his defeat. Godfrey of Bouillon, the Duke of Normandy, and the
other leaders had heard the rumour of this battle, and were at that
instant preparing for the rescue. The army was immediately in motion,
animated both by zeal and by hunger, and marched so rapidly as to
intercept the victorious Turks before they had time to reach Antioch with
their spoil. A fierce battle ensued, which lasted from noon till the going
down of the sun. The Christians gained and maintained the advantage, each
man fighting as if upon himself alone had depended the fortune of the day.
Hundreds of Turks perished in the Orontes, and more than two thousand were
left dead upon the field of battle. All the provision was recaptured and
brought in safety to the camp, whither the Crusaders returned singing
_Alleluia!_ or shouting _Deus adjuva! Deus adjuva!_
This relief lasted for some days, and, had it been duly economised, would
have lasted much longer; but the chiefs had no authority, and were unable
to exercise any control over its distribution. Famine again approached
with rapid strides, and Stephen count of Blois, not liking the prospect,
withdrew from the camp with four thousand of his retainers, and
established himself at Alexandretta. The moral influence of this desertion
was highly prejudicial upon those who remained; and Bohemund, the most
impatient and ambitious of the chiefs, foresaw that, unless speedily
checked, it would lead to the utter failure of the expedition. It was
necessary to act decisively; the army murmured at the length of the siege,
and the sultan was collecting his forces to crush them. Against the
efforts of the Crusaders Antioch might have held out for months; but
treason within effected that which courage without might have striven for
in vain.
Baghasihan, the Turkish prince or emir of Antioch, had under his command
an Armenian of the name of Phirouz, whom he had entrusted with the defence
of a tower on that part of the city wall which overlooked the passes of
the mountains. Bohemund, by means of a spy who had embraced the Christian
religion, and to whom he had given his own name at baptism, kept up a
daily communication with this captain, and made him the most magnificent
promises of reward, if he would deliver up his post to the Crusaders.
Whether the proposal was first made by Bohemund or by the Armenian is
uncertain, but that a good understanding soon existed between them is
undoubted; and a night was fixed for the execution of the project.
Bohemund communicated the scheme to Godfrey and the Count of Toulouse,
with the stipulation that, if the city were won, he, as the soul of the
enterprise, should enjoy the dignity of Prince of Antioch. The other
leaders hesitated: ambition and jealousy prompted them to refuse their aid
in furthering the views of the intriguer. More mature consideration
decided them to acquiesce, and seven hundred of the bravest knights were
chosen for the expedition, the real object of which, for fear of spies,
was kept a profound secret from the rest of the army. When all was ready,
a report was promulgated that the seven hundred were intended to form an
ambuscade for a division of the sultan's army, which was stated to be
approaching.