HOW TANCRED FOUGHT UNDER THE BANNER OF THE CROSS
While Peter led these wild lawless men to Byzantium, the nobles who had
vowed to fight in the Holy War were preparing to lead out the armies
of the first Crusade. There were many brave knights ready to fight for
Jerusalem. One of the bravest was Godfrey, who came from Germany. When
he was at peace with those around him, he had all the charm of winning
manners and of gentle voice, but in battle he was brave and dreadful,
and as strong as a raging lion. Once he had fought for the Emperor of
Germany against the Pope, and ever since that time he had been very
unhappy, because the only thing he feared was the power of the Church.
He was delighted when he heard of the preaching of Peter. To save
Jerusalem seemed to him a splendid thing, and then he thought that
no harm would come to him because he had fought against the Pope, if
he should be able to win the Holy City for Rome and for the Christian
faith. Two of his brothers joined him, and many other lords and nobles
came to set out with him for Jerusalem.
But all his followers were not men who had lived in courts. There were
many workmen and peasants, and some wild men in shaggy clothes who came
from the Scottish shores, and who found their way to his camp by making
the sign of the cross with their fingers. Every one knew what that
meant, and pointed out the way to the strangers.
Another knight gathered an army in Italy. His name was Bohemond. He was
as brave and as clever as Godfrey, but he was not like him in any other
thing, except perhaps that both men were tall and handsome. Bohemond
wished to win land for himself. Above all, he wanted the land and the
wealth of the Greek Emperor. When he heard of the Crusade, he thought
that it would be easy for him to find an excuse to seize the lands of
Greece if he could quarrel with the Emperor about the Crusade. But
he did not tell his soldiers that. Though he cared very little about
Jerusalem or about the wood of the Cross, he could speak as stirringly
about them as Peter had done, and one day when he had spoken of these
things to his brother’s army he tore his great red banner into strips,
and made crosses for all the soldiers who would take them.
With Bohemond there rode his cousin Tancred, and amongst them all there
was none so faithful to him as Tancred. This was wonderful, because
Tancred was ‘a very perfect gentle knight,’ and many of the things
Bohemond did must have been hateful to him.
When the Greek Emperor asked for help from Rome, he wished the Pope
to send men to fight under his banner and to win battles for him. He
could make no use of the rabble that had come to Byzantium with Peter.
But when the real armies of the Crusade poured into the fields around
the city he was filled with fear. These strong gay knights with the
warriors who followed them were far worse than useless to him. He knew
something of the bareness of the land that lay round their castles,
and of the rugged life that even the noblest of them lived in their
northern homes. And he was sure that the rich plains of his country,
and his cities with their marble palaces would make many of the knights
wish to win them from him, and that they would never be content to
fight only for the freedom of the Holy Land.
It was no wonder that he was afraid. As the Crusaders gazed up at the
walls of Byzantium, it seemed to them like an enchanted city. The
fields and orchards around it were richly laden with corn and fruit.
The buildings within it rose amongst bright and beautiful gardens,
higher and higher towards the gilded roof of the palace, above which,
three domes shone in the warm sunshine. Not far off stood the Church
of St. Sophia, and in it too were gold and gems. Ships lay on the
sparkling waters of the Golden Horn beyond the city, and the sun shone
brightly on the narrow sea that lay between Europe and Asia.
When Bohemond and Tancred came to Byzantium, they found that some of
the armies that had already arrived were on one side of the narrow
sea and some were on the other. Tancred was very eager to see all the
armies on the side away from Byzantium and towards Jerusalem, but he
found that the Emperor would not lend them ships in which to cross the
water, until all the leaders had promised that they would make him the
ruler over every town that they won from the Moslems.
The knights were very angry. They had always kept for themselves the
cities they had fought for and won, and they could not bear the thought
of winning Jerusalem only to give it up again. But the Emperor was
a crafty man. When he saw that he could not make them promise what
he wished by fair means, he made up his mind that other ways might
succeed where these had failed. He took many of the Crusaders over
the narrow sea, for he was afraid of having too many of them close to
Byzantium. Then when he had divided them from each other, he tried to
win his will.
He feasted the knights at his palace and made them believe that he
thought them great and noble people. He really scorned them very much,
because though they were brave, they did not care about learning or
art. But he tried to hide from them the scorn that he and his people
felt for them. He spoke to Godfrey about the grave where the body of
Christ had lain, and about the wood of the true Cross, till Godfrey
really thought he was a man who cared as much about Jerusalem as he
himself did, and said that he would think of him as his Emperor. And
that was what the crafty Greek wished, for he cared nothing at all for
the Holy City. But he did not speak to Bohemond about Jerusalem! He led
him through the palace, and as they walked they passed an open door.
Bohemond looked in and started in surprise, for he saw that gems and
gold and silver were piled in disorder, while here and there he saw the
leg of a costly table or the back of an inlaid chair.
‘Ah,’ said Bohemond, ‘what victories he might win who owns all this!’
‘It is your own,’ a voice whispered to him.
Bohemond said he could not take so great a treasure, but though he said
that, he was very glad indeed to get it, and at night, all that had
dazzled his eyes as he glanced through the open door, lay in his own
tent. He said, of course, that he would do what the Emperor wished, but
though the Emperor was glad to have him say it, in order that other
knights might be more willing to say so too, he knew very well that
Bohemond would not keep his promise a day longer than he wished to do
so.
The Emperor wished all the knights to own his rule, but there was one
who would not. It was Tancred. He hated the silly round of pleasure
in Byzantium. He scorned both the gold and the flattering words of the
Emperor. One day a Greek nobleman spoke rudely to him, and Tancred
struck him in the public street. After that his life was in danger. He
took off his glittering armour, put on the dress of a common soldier,
and escaped across the narrow sea to that part of the army that had
already gone over. But still the Emperor would not let the others go
without Tancred’s promise. At last Bohemond went to Tancred and said to
him that he was to blame, because he alone was keeping the army back
and standing in the way of the rescue of the Holy City by refusing to
serve the Emperor. Tancred still had faith in his cousin, and when he
pled with him he could not say no. So he yielded; only he hoped that
the Emperor would soon break his promise to help the Crusaders so
that they might be free from their promise to him. Then the Emperor
lent his ships and hastened the Crusaders on their way with gifts
and promises, but he sent messengers to warn the Saracens that they
were coming to attack them. The great army that marched into Asia knew
nothing of that. There were a hundred thousand horsemen, besides many,
many others. It is not possible to imagine the noise they made. The
heavy armour of the horses rattled and clashed, and the clang of armour
drowned the sound of trampling. Often a peal of merry laughter rang
out from a group of village children, or from some gay lady who had
come with father or husband to share the danger and the triumph of the
Holy War. As they rode, the trumpets sounded and the deep voices of the
heralds shouted, ‘Save the Holy Sepulchre!’ The sunlight flashed from
bright weapons and from gay scarfs and banners.
They marched gladly on till the city of Nicæa rose before them. Its
walls were so broad and so strong that horses could dash round on the
top without doing any harm. And three hundred towers guarded the city.
On one side, the water of a lake washed close up to the wall: on the
other, mountains rose from it. The black flag of the Turk waved every
here and there on the steep slope, and the tents of Moslem soldiers
clustered round each flag.
For seven weeks the Crusaders laid siege to the city. During those days
there was a great deal of fighting with the Turks outside the wall.
Tancred was always in the thick of the battle, and ever where he was,
the army of the Holy Cross carried all before it, and the enemy fled
to their tents. But the city still held out, and from its walls arrows
and stones hurtled down with deadly aim. There was one huge Moslem
who never seemed to miss his mark. He hurled stones and arrows and
javelins, and wherever they fell they brought death. One day he grew so
bold that he threw away his shield and stood on the wall and scorned
his foes beneath. A hundred bows were stretched tight, a hundred arrows
whizzed through the air, but when they had all fallen to earth, he
still stood there unharmed. It seemed as if he bore a charmed life. But
he had insulted the armies of the Cross, and Godfrey had heard him do
it. A thrill went through the camp as the German leader raised his bow
and arrow. No other arm was raised. Godfrey’s arrow sped alone through
the air. A breathless moment passed. Then the body of the giant fell
forward from the wall, dead, shot through the heart, into the moat
below.
The knights could not understand how it was that the people in Nicæa
were not suffering from hunger. Those who shot down the stones and the
arrows looked strong and well. Yet the armies had watched the gates
night and day for seven weeks. At last they found out that when night
fell and there was no moon, food was brought to Nicæa across the lake
and pulled up into the city. At first it seemed as if nothing could
be done to stop this, but at last a plan was made. The lake stretched
away from Nicæa till only a strip of land lay between it and the narrow
sea. The Crusaders sent messengers to the Emperor and asked him to
give them ships and sledges. This he gladly did, because he wished them
to think that he meant to help them in all their battles. Then in the
darkness when all was ready, a band of knights spurred their horses to
the narrow sea. They hoisted the ships on to the sledges and dragged
them over the sandy ridge, and then launched the vessels in the lake.
When the daylight came and the Moslems looked out, they saw their
enemies’ ships riding under the walls of their city and knew that no
help could come to them by land or sea.
The Crusaders were delighted. ‘Only a few more hours,’ they thought,
‘and Nicæa must be in our hands.’
In a few more hours Nicæa had fallen, but the flag that floated from
its towers was the flag of Greece. Every one was full of anger and
surprise. The soldiers gathered round the knights.
‘What does it mean?’ they asked.
But the knights could not tell them. By some means two Greek generals
had entered Nicæa and had made the people there believe that it would
be much better for them to yield to the Emperor than to the armies from
the North.
But though the Crusaders were very angry, they did not stay to grieve
that Nicæa was not their own. They were glad, because they had subdued
so strong a city. They hastened on and broke into two bands that they
might more easily find food. But Turks on swift horses watched them and
rode back to tell their chief how carelessly the Crusaders marched.
The land was beautiful and rich, and Bohemond gave the command to
halt by a river that flowed through a grassy plain amongst clumps of
trees. Everything seemed quiet and peaceful. Tancred listened to the
heralds as they shouted three times over, ‘Save the Holy Sepulchre!’
and thought with joy that soon there might be no need for the heralds’
shout. But another cry ran through the tents! ‘The enemy is on us!’ Ere
men had time to arm, the clouds of dust beyond the river and the white
turbans and green vests that flashed through the dust, proved to every
man that the cry was true.
Arrows fell thick as rain. They glanced from the chain-mail of the
knights, but they entered the joints of the horses’ armour and made
them frantic with pain. The horns and drums and terrible yells of the
Turks maddened the horses still more. The Arab horses were lighter
and swifter than those of the knights. They could dart away when the
Crusaders attacked them and rush in again to attack in return.
Tancred was nearly killed. He had seen his brother fall. It may have
made him reckless. Bohemond’s sharp eyes saw that he was in the midst
of foemen and that his lance was broken. He dashed across the river,
swooped down on the Turks with a terrific yell, and bore Tancred safely
away.
But while the Crusaders were fighting, another band of Turks fell on
the camp and took it. The knights could not retake the camp and keep
the foe at bay at the same time. They had no thought of yielding, but
they saw that many of their followers were losing courage. Suddenly
they heard a shout of joy. Godfrey and his warriors were in sight. The
voices of the priests led the battle cry, ‘It is the will of God! It is
the will of God!’
The Turks were tired with the long fight. They could not resist this
new force. They were overcome, chased, and slain. Their camp fell into
the Crusaders’ hands. The knights found strange new weapons there,
and many camels and horses. They handled the curious Eastern arms in
wonder, and led the camels about in delight.
But a great danger was before them. A band of Turks had escaped. They
had not been able to conquer their foes, but they could injure them
still. They rode swiftly forward and burned the towns and trampled the
corn in the fields along the roads by which the Crusaders would have
to go. They rode forward for five hundred miles, and behind them they
left empty houses and barren lands.
It was the hottest part of the year, and as the armies marched through
this wasted land, men and horses dropped out of the ranks to die of
thirst. So many horses died, that the stores had to be carried by dogs
and by goats.
One day during this terrible time, some one noticed wet sand on the
paws of a dog. Then another was found with wet sand on his coat. The
excitement was terrible. Every one searched for the footprints of the
dogs that they might find the water the dogs had found. At last the
tracks were seen, and thousands of weak and thirst-stricken soldiers
tottered up to the mountain stream in which the dogs had bathed. But
they drank so wildly that three hundred of them died by the bank of the
torrent.
As the Crusaders rode south towards Jerusalem, they overtook bands of
Turks. Some of these Moslem warriors went into the towns for shelter,
and the knights often followed them there and took away their weapons.
One day Tancred led his followers into the town of Tarsus and raised
his flag to show that it belonged to him, but just after he had done
this, Baldwin, one of Godfrey’s brothers, rode up to Tancred and said
that he and his men must have half of the spoil of the city. But the
people of Tarsus were Christians, and Tancred would not let his own
knights take any of their wealth from them, so he could not allow
Baldwin to rob them either. But Baldwin would not listen to him. He
forced his way into the town, tore down Tancred’s banner and flung it
into a ditch.
Tancred was very angry, and so were his men. They loved him and boasted
of his brave deeds, and they were enraged that any one should treat him
so. They wished to fight Baldwin at once and chase him from Tarsus. But
Tancred pled with them not to attack another Crusader. He spoke of the
Holy War and of Jerusalem, and led them out from the town they had won
and on to Malmistra. But Baldwin did not find as much as he wished in
Tarsus, and before long, Tancred’s soldiers saw the banners of the man
they hated beneath the walls of Malmistra. This time Tancred yielded
to his soldiers, and marched out against Baldwin, but he had no heart
to fight against one with whom he had set out to save the Holy City,
and next morning the two knights met in friendship before their men and
vowed to forget the past.
Tancred had no more trouble from the greed and meanness of Baldwin, for
Godfrey’s brother stole away in the dead of night with a band of picked
fighting men, left the crusading army, and marched off to win an empire
for himself.
At last, after months of weary marching, the Crusaders stood on a
spur of the rocky hills over which the last part of their track had
lain, and looked down on the rich valley of the Orontes River. They
saw vineyards and cornfields on either side of the river, and shut in
between it and the mountains, they saw the town of Antioch. It was a
beautiful town and a very strong one, with a great citadel that rose
high above its walls. It was called ‘The Queen of the East.’ Soon the
Crusaders had made their camp in the fair green valley. The sun shone
on white tents and flashing weapons, on bucklers of gold and green and
crimson, and on the gay banners of the knights.
The men were weary with the long march and with the hunger and thirst
they had so often suffered. Instead of closing round the city, they
spread over the valley and feasted. They dreamed of all that they meant
to do instead of doing anything.
It was autumn, and the weather was warm and sunny. The vines were heavy
with clusters of grapes. Cattle fed in the pasture lands and corn grew
in the fields. Sometimes bands of Moslems from the city fell on the
Crusaders as they feasted. Then the knights mounted and fought, and won
great glory for themselves, but the town was as safe as ever.
But when winter came and the camp was a marsh, they saw how foolish it
was to kill all the cattle and feast on corn and wine, and waste it,
when, if they had been careful, they might have had more than enough
for the wet days of winter, and might even have been within Antioch.
Tancred and his men rode far and near to find food for the army, and
then he stood by in wrath when he saw that the stores he had fought
so hard to win were wasted, as the fruit of the valley had been. Many
men grew hopeless, and tried to steal away from the army by night.
Tancred was always ready either to fight or to help. One night as he
watched by the camp, he saw two figures clambering up the hillside. He
thought he knew one of them. He spurred his horse up the steep road
and caught them. One was a knight and the other was Peter the Hermit!
He had thought it would be so simple to win the Holy City, and now the
long waiting and the carelessness of those around him had sapped all
his courage, and Peter had fled. But when Tancred brought him back,
he vowed on the Gospels that he would never leave the army again till
Jerusalem was won.
At last the Crusaders did enter Antioch, but it was not by the strength
of their arms. Tancred’s cousin, Bohemond, made a plot with one of
the tower-keepers of the city. But when he told the knights of it, he
said that he would not lead them into Antioch unless they would give
it to him to be his own. At first they would not agree to this. They
did not like his stealthy plans, and they did not wish him to be Lord
of Antioch. But soon they heard that a Moslem army was coming to fight
with them and to help Antioch, so they yielded.
The night on which they chose to enter was wild and stormy. The knights
and soldiers heard the wind rush down the valleys. They saw tents and
walls and towers gleam out in the sudden lightning flashes and then
sink into utter darkness again. The tower-keeper lowered a ladder,
but every one shrank back from it. The Crusaders were warriors, not
robbers, and the storm made it seem as if uncanny powers of air were
fighting against their unsoldierly deed. Bohemond, however, was not
afraid to be mean. When he saw that no one else would go, he led the
way himself. Sixty knights followed him. They opened the city gates,
and soon the crusading army rushed through the streets of Antioch. But
the citadel was so strong and so well defended that the armies of the
knights could not take it.
The foolish soldiers feasted on the food they found in the city. They
did not know that the Moslem armies were at their gates till they saw
the horses dashing through the camp that they had left. In a few days
the food was done. The enemy was in the citadel and in the valley. Many
Crusaders tried to flee. The others called them rope-dancers because
they slipped from the city wall on ropes. They were less afraid of the
Turkish army than of famine!
[Illustration: Bohemond led the way himself]
The soldiers lost all hope. They hid in churches and houses. Bohemond
burned down the buildings to force them out. But though the fire
drove them to their posts it could not give them courage.
The knights were in despair. Tancred had promised never to leave the
army while he had sixty men to follow him, but few were so brave as
he was. The leaders gathered to speak of what could be done to save
Antioch and the army from the Moslems. As they sat and talked, a monk
named Peter Bartholemy stood before them. He had come so noiselessly
that he startled them. He asked if he might speak. Then he told them
that he had three times seen a vision of the apostle Andrew, and that
he had said to him:
‘At Antioch, in the Church of my brother St. Peter, the head of the
lance that pierced the side of the Redeemer is hid near the high altar.
In three days it will be shown to those who follow Him. Search, and ye
shall find. Bear it high in battle, and the sacred weapon shall pierce
the souls of the enemy.’
For two days every one fasted. It was not difficult to fast in Antioch
then. It was harder almost to eat the tasteless fragments that were all
that could be found. On the third day men began to dig beside the altar
in St. Peter’s Church.
[Illustration: Peter held a lance head high in the air]
The diggers were weary, and those who watched them grew faithless or
scornful, for though the hole grew deeper--six feet, nine feet, twelve
feet--still no one had heard the clink of the lance-head against
the spades. As evening fell, the monk Peter leapt barefoot into the
hole. His spade sounded with a dull thud against the earth, but what
was that? The digging ceased. Every one started and leant forward
awe-struck. Peter clambered up and held a lance-head high in the air.
They wrapt it in cloth of gold and purple, and all was stir in the
army. The news of what had happened passed like flame from place to
place. Men who had wished to die were eager and full of hope. The
Crusaders were so sure that they would win, that they sent Peter the
Hermit to the leader of the Moslems to offer to make peace with him.
But he drove Peter the Hermit from him, and said that they had only to
choose between slavery and death. He did not know how the thought of
the sacred lance had roused the knights and their followers. When the
trumpets sounded the call to arms he would scarcely leave the game of
chess he was playing. It was no wonder that he scorned the army that
came out to meet him. Most of the horses had died in Antioch. Knights
rode from the city gates on camels and on asses. The foot soldiers were
in rags, and some of them were lame. The Moslems had set fire to great
heaps of hay round the city walls, and the famished army had to make
its way through these. Hour passed after hour. It seemed as if even the
courage of faith could not withstand the numbers of the Turks. But just
then three wondrous knights in white and shining armour appeared. ‘The
saints are coming to your aid.’ ‘St. George!’ ‘St. George!’ The shouts
rang through the camp. The Crusaders rushed wildly on. The Saracens
broke and fled. They were followed by Tancred and other brave knights
until sunset.
The armies feasted again and lingered at Antioch, while the bolder
knights longed and fretted to march for Jerusalem.
After many delays the Crusaders at length saw the Holy City rise in
the distance. The sight of it brought out all that was best in them.
Quarrels were forgotten. The Crusaders were not warriors now, they were
pilgrims. Horsemen and foot-soldiers threw down their weapons and knelt
on the rocky track. Many strong men wept as they rose and went towards
the city in joy and awe.
[Illustration: They knelt on the rocky track]
A band of Christians from Bethlehem came to meet them and to plead
with them not to forget the need of the village where Christ was born
in their eagerness to rescue the town where He died. Tancred went with
them, and a band of brave men followed him. He surprised the village
at night, and the banner of the Cross waved over it in the morning
sunshine. Then he rode back to join the army that marched towards
Jerusalem. Before night fell again the Crusaders were encamped before
the Holy City. The soldiers were as eager to attack the city as the
boldest of the knights. Although they had no engines that were strong
enough and high enough to throw stones into the city, they tried to
take it at once. They were driven back. But they were not hopeless, as
they had often been before. They planned how they could best attack
it again. To the south and east of Jerusalem the walls of the city
rise from deep gorges. The Crusaders could not hope to build engines
that would have power to shoot weapons and stones across these chasms.
So they pitched their tents only to the north, and to the west of
the city, and laid siege to the walls from St. Stephen’s gate at the
north-east corner to the Tower of David at the south-west.
Then the knights looked for wood to make engines and platforms. They
broke through the bands of Saracens who guarded the roads, and brought
tools and food from ships that had come to Joppa, but still they looked
in vain for trees large enough to make into battering rams and engines.
One day Tancred and his men saw some trees in the distance. They looked
large and strong, but he had so often hoped in vain to find what he
wished, that he would scarcely let himself believe what his eyes saw.
This time his hope was not in vain. When he reached the trees, he found
that they were truly great forest trees, and though they were thirty
miles from Jerusalem, he and his men soon cut down as many as were
needed and dragged them to the camp.
All this time the sun had blazed down on the crusading army. In the
heat and drought they dared not drink because the Moslems had poisoned
the wells. But nothing could daunt their courage now, for the walls of
the Holy City rose before them. The whole army fasted for three days.
Then they marched round Jerusalem. Tancred and some other knights
lingered on Mount Olivet, and thought of what had happened there
hundreds of years ago. On the mountain there they were standing at
about the same height as the walls of the city on the other side of the
valley, and as they stood, they saw the Moslems mock them, by fixing
crosses on the ramparts, and flinging mud at them to show how much they
scorned the Christians and their worship.
As the knights came back to their camp the sun set and the Moslem call
for prayer rang out from the minarets of the city. It was answered by
the chant of the Crusaders, ‘So shall they fear the name of the Lord
from the west, and His glory from the rising of the sun.’
During the night the great engines were drawn close to the city wall.
In the dim light of the morning, huge stones were shot into the city
and showers of arrows fell within the walls.
The Saracens used dreadful weapons. They poured boiling oil on the
Crusaders and set fire to their engines. The knights poured vinegar on
the blazing towers of their engines to put out the flames, but soon
they had emptied out every drop they had. Then they had to watch the
platforms they had built with so much care fall in blazing ruins and
crush the men on whom they fell. The battle raged all day. It opened
again next morning, and again the fire of the Saracens burned the
towers of the besiegers. It seemed as if the Crusaders must fail once
more. But Godfrey saw the glistening armour of a knight on the mount of
Olives. He shouted,
‘It is St. George who has come again to help us.’
The soldiers dashed once more to their engines. The wind changed and
blew the flames into the city. That afternoon, Godfrey stood on the
wall of Jerusalem. He and the knights who were with him hastened to
St. Stephen’s Gate and flung it open.
‘It is the will of God! It is the will of God,’ rang through the
streets as the Moslems fled hither and thither for shelter.
Tancred rushed into the city. He saw before him the Mosque of Omar,
and marked it for his own. When he entered it he found three hundred
Moslems who had taken shelter there amongst the marble pillars. He
promised to spare their lives and gave them a banner to prove that he
meant to keep his word. But other Crusaders thought it very wrong of
Tancred not to kill every Moslem, and, in spite of the banner, they
slew all the men whom he had promised to save. The joy of the taking of
Jerusalem was spoiled for Tancred. His honour had been set at nought.
Still he did not cease to serve the cause he loved. He shared the
treasure of the Mosque with Godfrey and with many of the soldiers who
had fought with him. Then he gave what was over to build the Christian
churches that lay in ruins.
The cross which had been thrown down and hidden was found. The knights
set it up again in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and other thoughts
than war and bloodshed filled the minds of the Crusaders. Godfrey flung
aside his bloody sword and armour, clad himself in a robe of pure
white linen, and with bare head and feet entered the ruined Church of
the Holy Sepulchre. He knelt on the pavement and kissed the stone of
the grave. One after another the knights followed him. Then the crowd
turned to Peter the Hermit. They forgot that he had fled from Antioch.
He was the hero of the day again as he had been in the market-places of
the north.
The knights wished to choose a king. The choice lay between Tancred and
Godfrey. But Tancred was a warrior; he did not wish to rule. Godfrey
stood alone. The only thing that his servants could say against him was
that he lingered too long in church, and cared not though they waited
for him nor though his dinner grew cold.
Godfrey was chosen king, but when the crown was brought he refused to
wear it. He said that he would never be crowned with gold where the
Saviour of the world had worn the crown of thorns. Nor would he take
the title of king. ‘Baron and Defender of the Holy Sepulchre,’ he
called himself. But others called him Godfrey I., King of Jerusalem.
After this the Crusaders left him. Many of them went home to Europe;
others scattered over the Holy Land.
Tancred, with three hundred knights and two thousand foot soldiers,
stayed to defend the new kingdom. Godfrey reigned for less than a year.
His death was a great sorrow to those who loved Jerusalem. Tancred
lived for twelve years to fight the battles of the Holy City. He ruled
Antioch while Bohemond was in prison, for he still was faithful to his
cousin, though Bohemond’s aims were low, his hopes selfish, and his
heart cruel.
Tancred died in the strength of his manhood from a battle wound. In
that rough time he was one
‘Than whom ... is no nobler knight,
More mild in manner, fair in manly bloom,
Nor more sublimely daring in the fight.’