to accept a station for which his habits had unqualified him. After
consecrating Louis with great solemnity, at St. Denis, as chief of the
expedition, he continued his course through the country, stirring up the
people wherever he went. So high an opinion was entertained of his
sanctity, that he was thought to be animated by the spirit of prophecy,
and to be gifted with the power of working miracles. Many women, excited
by his eloquence, and encouraged by his predictions, forsook their
husbands and children, and, clothing themselves in male attire, hastened
to the war. St. Bernard himself wrote a letter to the Pope detailing his
success, and stating, that in several towns there did not remain a single
male inhabitant capable of bearing arms, and that every where castles and
towns were to be seen filled with women weeping for their absent husbands.
But in spite of this apparent enthusiasm, the numbers who really took up
arms were inconsiderable, and not to be compared to the swarms of the
first Crusade. A levy of no more than two hundred thousand men, which was
the utmost the number amounted to, could hardly have depopulated a country
like France, to the extent mentioned by St. Bernard. His description of
the state of the country appears, therefore, to have been much more
poetical than true.
Suger, the able minister of Louis, endeavoured to dissuade him from
undertaking so long a journey at a time when his own dominions so much
needed his presence. But the king was pricked in his conscience by the
cruelties of Vitry, and was anxious to make the only reparation which the
religion of that day considered sufficient. He was desirous, moreover, of
testifying to the world, that though he could brave the temporal power of
the Church when it encroached upon his prerogatives, he could render all
due obedience to its spiritual decrees whenever it suited his interest or
tallied with his prejudices to do so. Suger, therefore, implored in vain,
and Louis received the pilgrim's staff at St. Denis, and made all
preparations for his pilgrimage.
In the mean time St. Bernard passed into Germany, where similar success
attended his preaching. The renown of his sanctity had gone before him,
and he found every where an admiring audience. Thousands of people, who
could not understand a word he said, flocked around him to catch a glimpse
of so holy a man; and the knights enrolled themselves in great numbers in the
service of the cross, each receiving from his hands the symbol of the
cause. But the people were not led away as in the days of Gottschalk. We
do not find that they rose in such tremendous masses of two and three
hundred thousand men, swarming over the country like a plague of locusts.
Still the enthusiasm was very great. The extraordinary tales that were
told and believed of the miracles worked by the preacher brought the
country people from far and near. Devils were said to vanish at his sight,
and diseases of the most malignant nature to be cured by his touch.[11]
The Emperor Conrad caught at last the contagion from his subjects, and
declared his intention to follow the cross.
[11] Philip, Archdeacon of the cathedral of Liege, wrote a
detailed account of all the miracles performed by St. Bernard
during thirty-four days of his mission. They averaged about
ten per day. The disciples of St. Bernard complained bitterly
that the people flocked around their master in such numbers,
that they could not see half the miracles he performed. But
they willingly trusted the eyes of others, as far as faith in
the miracles went, and seemed to vie with each other whose
credulity should be greatest.
The preparations were carried on so vigorously under the orders of Conrad,
that in less than three months he found himself at the head of an army
containing at least one hundred and fifty thousand effective men, besides
a great number of women who followed their husbands and lovers to the war.
One troop of them rode in the attitude and armour of men: their chief wore
gilt spurs and buskins, and thence acquired the epithet of the
golden-footed lady. Conrad was ready to set out long before the French
monarch, and in the month of June 1147, he arrived before Constantinople,
having passed through Hungary and Bulgaria without offence to the
inhabitants.
[Illustration: PILGRIM'S STAFF.]
Manuel Comnenus, the Greek emperor, successor not only to the throne but
to the policy of Alexius, looked with alarm upon the new levies who had
come to eat up his capital and imperil its tranquillity. Too weak to
refuse them a passage through his dominions, too distrustful of them to
make them welcome when they came, and too little assured of the advantages
likely to result to himself from the war, to feign a friendship which he
did not feel, the Greek emperor gave offence at the very outset. His
subjects, in the pride of superior civilisation, called the Germans
barbarians; while the latter, who, if semi-barbarous, were at least honest
and straightforward, retorted upon the Greeks by calling them double-faced
knaves and traitors. Disputes continually arose between them, and Conrad,
who had preserved so much good order among his followers during their
passage, was unable to restrain their indignation when they arrived at
Constantinople. For some offence or other which the Greeks had given them,
but which is rather hinted at than stated by the scanty historians of the
day, the Germans broke into the magnificent pleasure-garden of the
emperor, where he had a valuable collection of tame animals, for which the
grounds had been laid out in woods, caverns, groves, and streams, that
each might follow in captivity his natural habits. The enraged Germans,
meriting the name of barbarians that had been bestowed upon them, laid
waste this pleasant retreat, and killed or let loose the valuable animals
it contained. Manuel, who is said to have beheld the devastation from his
palace windows without power or courage to prevent it, was completely
disgusted with his guests, and resolved, like his predecessor Alexius, to
get rid of them on the first opportunity. He sent a message to Conrad
respectfully desiring an interview, but the German refused to trust
himself within the walls of Constantinople. The Greek emperor, on his
part, thought it compatible neither with his dignity nor his safety to
seek the German, and several days were spent in insincere negotiations.
Manuel at length agreed to furnish the crusading army with guides to
conduct it through Asia Minor; and Conrad passed over the Hellespont with
his forces, the advanced guard being commanded by himself, and the rear by
the warlike Bishop of Freysinghen.
Historians are almost unanimous in their belief that the wily Greek gave
instructions to his guides to lead the army of the German emperor into
dangers and difficulties. It is certain that, instead of guiding them
through such districts of Asia Minor as afforded water and provisions,
they led them into the wilds of Cappadocia, where neither was to be
procured, and where they were suddenly attacked by the sultan of the
Seljukian Turks, at the head of an immense force. The guides, whose
treachery is apparent from this fact alone, fled at the first sight of the
Turkish army, and the Christians were left to wage unequal warfare with
their enemy, entangled and bewildered in desert wilds. Toiling in their
heavy mail, the Germans could make but little effective resistance to the
attacks of the Turkish light horse, who were down upon them one instant,
and out of sight the next. Now in the front and now in the rear, the agile
foe showered his arrows upon them, enticing them into swamps and hollows,
from which they could only extricate themselves after long struggles and
great losses. The Germans, confounded by this mode of warfare, lost all
conception of the direction they were pursuing, and went back instead of
forward. Suffering at the same time for want of provisions, they fell an
easy prey to their pursuers. Count Bernhard, one of the bravest leaders of
the German expedition, was surrounded, with his whole division, not one of
whom escaped the Turkish arrows. The emperor himself had nearly fallen a
victim, and was twice severely wounded. So persevering was the enemy, and
so little able were the Germans to make even a shew of resistance, that
when Conrad at last reached the city of Nice, he found that, instead of
being at the head of an imposing force of one hundred thousand foot and
seventy thousand horse, he had but fifty or sixty thousand men, and these
in the most worn and wearied condition.
Totally ignorant of the treachery of the Greek emperor, although he had
been warned to beware of it, Louis VII. proceeded, at the head of his
army, through Worms and Ratisbon, towards Constantinople. At Ratisbon he
was met by a deputation from Manuel, bearing letters so full of hyperbole
and flattery, that Louis is reported to have blushed when they were read
to him by the Bishop of Langres. The object of the deputation was to
obtain from the French king a promise to pass through the Grecian
territories in a peaceable and friendly manner, and to yield to the Greek
emperor any conquest he might make in Asia Minor. The first part of the
proposition was immediately acceded to, but no notice was taken of the
second and more unreasonable. Louis marched on, and, passing through
Hungary, pitched his tents in the outskirts of Constantinople.
On his arrival, Manuel sent him a friendly invitation to enter the city at
the head of a small train. Louis at once accepted it, and was met by the
emperor at the porch of his palace. The fairest promises were made; every
art that flattery could suggest was resorted to, and every argument
employed, to induce him to yield his future conquests to the Greek. Louis
obstinately refused to pledge himself, and returned to his army convinced
that the emperor was a man not to be trusted. Negotiations were, however,
continued for several days, to the great dissatisfaction of the French
army. The news that arrived of a treaty entered into between Manuel and
the Turkish sultan changed their dissatisfaction into fury, and the
leaders demanded to be led against Constantinople, swearing that they
would raze the treacherous city to the ground. Louis did not feel inclined
to accede to this proposal, and, breaking up his camp, he crossed over
into Asia.
Here he heard, for the first time, of the mishaps of the German emperor,
whom he found in a woful plight under the walls of Nice. The two monarchs
united their forces, and marched together along the sea-coast to Ephesus;
but Conrad, jealous, it would appear, of the superior numbers of the
French, and not liking to sink into a vassal, for the time being, of his
rival, withdrew abruptly with the remnant of his legions, and returned to
Constantinople. Manuel was all smiles and courtesy. He condoled with the
German so feelingly upon his losses, and cursed the stupidity or treachery
of the guides with such apparent heartiness, that Conrad was half inclined
to believe in his sincerity.
Louis, marching onward in the direction of Jerusalem, came up with the
enemy on the banks of the Meander. The Turks contested the passage of the
river, but the French bribed a peasant to point out a ford lower down:
crossing the river without difficulty, they attacked the Turks with much
vigour, and put them to flight. Whether the Turks were really defeated, or
merely pretended to be so, is doubtful; but the latter supposition seems
to be the true one. It is probable that it was part of a concerted plan to
draw the invaders onwards to more unfavourable ground, where their
destruction might be more certain. If such were the scheme, it succeeded
to the heart's wish of its projectors. The Crusaders, on the third day
after their victory, arrived at a steep mountain-pass, on the summit of
which the Turkish host lay concealed so artfully, that not the slightest
vestige of their presence could be perceived. "With labouring steps and
slow," they toiled up the steep ascent, when suddenly a tremendous
fragment of rock came bounding down the precipices with an awful crash,
bearing dismay and death before it. At the same instant the Turkish
archers started from their hiding-places, and discharged a shower of
arrows upon the foot-soldiers, who fell by hundreds at a time. The arrows
rebounded harmlessly against the iron mail of the knights, which the Turks
observing, took aim at their steeds, and horse and rider fell down the
steep into the rapid torrent which rushed below. Louis, who commanded the
rear-guard, received the first intimation of the onslaught from the sight
of the wounded and flying soldiers, and, not knowing the numbers of the
enemy, he pushed vigorously forward to stay, by his presence, the panic
which had taken possession of his army. All his efforts were in vain.
Immense stones continued to be hurled upon them as they advanced, bearing
men and horse before them; and those who succeeded in forcing their way to
the top were met hand-to-hand by the Turks, and cast down headlong upon
their companions. Louis himself fought with the energy of desperation, but
had great difficulty to avoid falling into the enemy's hands. He escaped
at last under cover of the night, with the remnant of his forces, and took
up his position before Attalia. Here he restored the discipline and the
courage of his disorganised and disheartened followers, and debated with
his captains the plan that was to be pursued. After suffering severely
both from disease and famine, it was resolved that they should march to
Antioch, which still remained an independent principality under the
successors of Bohemund of Tarentum. At this time the sovereignty was
vested in the person of Raymond, the uncle of Eleanor of Aquitaine. This
prince, presuming upon his relationship to the French queen, endeavoured
to withdraw Louis from the grand object of the Crusade--the defence of the
kingdom of Jerusalem, and secure his co-operation in extending the limits
and the power of his principality of Antioch. The Prince of Tripoli formed
a similar design; but Louis rejected the offers of both, and marched,
after a short delay, to Jerusalem. The Emperor Conrad was there before
him, having left Constantinople with promises of assistance from Manuel
Comnenus--assistance which never arrived, and was never intended.
[Illustration: DAMASCUS.]
A great council of the Christian princes of Palestine, and the leaders of
the Crusade, was then summoned, to discuss the future operations of the
war. It was ultimately determined that it would further the cause of the
cross in a greater degree if the united armies, instead of proceeding to
Edessa, laid siege to the city of Damascus, and drove the Saracens from
that strong position. This was a bold scheme, and, had it been boldly
followed out, would have insured, in all probability, the success of the
war. But the Christian leaders never learned from experience the necessity
of union, that very soul of great enterprises. Though they all agreed upon
the policy of the plan, yet every one had his own notions as to the means
of executing it. The princes of Antioch and Tripoli were jealous of each
other, and of the king of Jerusalem. The Emperor Conrad was jealous of the
king of France, and the king of France was disgusted with them all. But he
had come out to Palestine in accordance with a solemn vow; his religion,
though it may be called bigotry, was sincere; and he determined to remain
to the very last moment that a chance was left of effecting any good for
the cause he had set his heart on.
The siege of Damascus was accordingly commenced, and with so much ability
and vigour that the Christians gained a considerable advantage at the very
outset. For weeks the siege was pressed, till the shattered fortifications
and diminishing resistance of the besieged gave evidence that the city
could not hold out much longer. At that moment the insane jealousy of the
leaders led to dissensions that soon caused the utter failure, not only of
the siege but of the Crusade. A modern cookery-book, in giving a recipe
for cooking a hare, says, "first catch your hare, and then kill it"--a
maxim of indisputable wisdom. The Christian chiefs, on this occasion, had
not so much sagacity, for they began a violent dispute among themselves
for the possession of a city which was still unconquered. There being
already a prince of Antioch and a prince of Tripoli, twenty claimants
started for the principality of Damascus; and a grand council of the
leaders was held to determine the individual on whom the honour should
devolve. Many valuable days were wasted in this discussion, the enemy in
the meanwhile gaining strength from their inactivity. It was at length,
after a stormy deliberation, agreed that Count Robert of Flanders, who had
twice visited the Holy Land, should be invested with the dignity. The
other claimants refused to recognise him or to co-operate in the siege
until a more equitable arrangement had been made. Suspicion filled the
camp; the most sinister rumours of intrigues and treachery were set
afloat; and the discontented candidates withdrew at last to the other side
of the city, and commenced operations on their own account without a
probability of success. They were soon joined by the rest of the army. The
consequence was that the weakest side of the city, and that on which they
had already made considerable progress in the work of demolition, was left
uncovered. The enemy was prompt to profit by the mistake, and received an
abundant supply of provisions, and refortified the walls, before the
Crusaders came to their senses again. When this desirable event happened,
it was too late. Saph Eddin, the powerful emir of Mousoul, was in the
neighbourhood, at the head of a large army, advancing by forced marches to
the relief of the city. The siege was abruptly abandoned, and the foolish
Crusaders returned to Jerusalem, having done nothing to weaken the enemy,
but every thing to weaken themselves.
The freshness of enthusiasm had now completely subsided; even the meanest
soldiers were sick at heart. Conrad, from whose fierce zeal at the outset
so much might have been expected, was wearied with reverses, and returned
to Europe with the poor remnant of his host. Louis lingered a short time
longer, for very shame, but the pressing solicitations of his minister
Suger induced him to return to France. Thus ended the second Crusade. Its
history is but a chronicle of defeats. It left the kingdom of Jerusalem in
a worse state than when it quitted Europe, and gained nothing but disgrace
for its leaders, and discouragement for all concerned.
St. Bernard, who had prophesied a result so different, fell after this
into some disrepute, and experienced, like many other prophets, the fate
of being without honour in his own country. What made the matter worse, he
could not obtain it in any other. Still, however, there were not wanting
zealous advocates to stand forward in his behalf, and stem the tide of
incredulity, which, unopposed, would have carried away his reputation. The
Bishop of Freysinghen declared that prophets were not always able to
prophesy, and that the vices of the Crusaders drew down the wrath of
heaven upon them. But the most ingenious excuse ever made for St. Bernard
is to be found in his life by Geoffroi de Clairvaux, where he
pertinaciously insists that the Crusade was not unfortunate. St. Bernard,
he says, had prophesied a happy result, and that result could not be
considered other than happy which had peopled heaven with so glorious an
army of martyrs. Geoffroi was a cunning pleader, and, no doubt, convinced
a few of the zealous; but plain people, who were not wanting even in those
days, retained their own opinion, or, what amounts to the same thing,
"were convinced against their will."
We now come to the consideration of the third Crusade, and of the causes
which rendered it necessary. The epidemic frenzy, which had been cooling
ever since the issue of the first expedition, was now extinct, or very
nearly so, and the nations of Europe looked with cold indifference upon
the armaments of their princes. But chivalry had flourished in its natural
element of war, and was now in all its glory. It continued to supply
armies for the Holy Land when the popular ranks refused to deliver up
their able-bodied swarms. Poetry, which, more than religion, inspired the
third Crusade, was then but "_caviare_ to the million," who had other
matters, of sterner import, to claim all their attention. But the knights
and their retainers listened with delight to the martial and amatory
strains of the minstrels, minnesängers, trouvères, and troubadours, and
burned to win favour in ladies' eyes by shewing prowess in the Holy Land.
The third was truly the romantic era of the Crusades. Men fought then, not
so much for the sepulchre of Jesus, and the maintenance of a Christian
kingdom in the East, as to gain glory for themselves in the best and
almost only field where glory could be obtained. They fought, not as
zealots, but as soldiers; not for religion, but for honour; not for the
crown of martyrdom, but for the favour of the lovely.
[Illustration: SEAL OF BARBAROSSA.]
It is not necessary to enter into a detail of the events by which Saladin
attained the sovereignty of the East, or how, after a succession of
engagements, he planted the Moslem banner once more upon the battlements
of Jerusalem. The Christian knights and population, including the grand
orders of St. John, the Hospitallers, and the Templars, were sunk in an
abyss of vice, and, torn by unworthy jealousies and dissensions, were
unable to resist the well-trained armies which the wise and mighty Saladin
brought forward to crush them. But the news of their fall created a
painful sensation among the chivalry of Europe, whose noblest members were
linked to the dwellers in Palestine by many ties, both of blood and
friendship. The news of the great battle of Tiberias, in which Saladin
defeated the Christian host with terrible slaughter, arrived first in
Europe, and was followed in quick succession by that of the capture of
Jerusalem, Antioch, Tripoli, and other cities. Dismay seized upon the
clergy. The Pope (Urban III.) was so affected by the news that he pined
away for grief, and was scarcely seen to smile again, until he sank into
the sleep of death.[12] His successor, Gregory VIII., felt the loss as
acutely, but had better strength to bear it, and instructed all the clergy
of the Christian world to stir up the people to arms for the recovery of
the Holy Sepulchre. William Archbishop of Tyre, a humble follower in the
path of Peter the Hermit, left Palestine to preach to the kings of Europe
the miseries he had witnessed, and to incite them to the rescue. The
renowned Frederick Barbarossa, the emperor of Germany, speedily collected
an army, and passing over into Syria with less delay than had ever before
awaited a crusading force, defeated the Saracens, and took possession of
the city of Iconium. He was unfortunately cut off in the middle of his
successful career, by imprudently bathing in the Cydnus[13] while he was
overheated, and the Duke of Suabia took the command of the expedition. The
latter did not prove so able a general, and met with nothing but reverses,
although he was enabled to maintain a footing at Antioch until assistance
arrived from Europe.
[12] James of Vitry; William de Nangis.
[13] The desire of comparing two great men has tempted many
writers to drown Frederick in the river Cydnus, in which
Alexander so imprudently bathed (Q. Curt. lib. iii. c. 4, 5);
but, from the march of the emperor, I rather judge that his
Saleph is the Calycadnus, a stream of less fame, but of a
longer course.--_Gibbon_.
[Illustration: HENRY II. OF ENGLAND.]
[Illustration: CHATEAU OF GISORS.]