_Germ of After-misfortunes already springing up in the Crusade--Siege of
Nice--First Engagement with the Turks--Siege continued--The Lake
occupied--Surrender of Nice to the Emissaries of Alexius--Discontent--
March towards Antioch--The Army divides into two Bodies--Battle of
Doryloeum--Dreadful March through Phrygia--Adventures of Baldwin and
Tancred--Arrival at Antioch--The City invested._
One of the most unfortunate events which occurred to the crusaders in
their march was their stay at Constantinople, for it was the remote but
certain cause of many other evils. The jealousies and differences raised
up among them by the intriguing spirit of Alexius were never entirely done
away; and besides this, the intervention of petty motives, long
discussions, and schemes of individual aggrandizement chilled the fervour
of zeal, and thus weighed down the most energetic spring of the
enterprise.
Enthusiasm will conquer difficulties, confront danger and death, and
change the very nature of the circumstances in which it is placed, to
encouragement and hope; but it will not bear to be mingled with less
elevated feelings and considerations. The common ambitions and passions of
life, cold reasonings, and thoughtful debates, deaden it and put it out;
and amid the intrigues of interest, or the speculations of selfishness, it
is extinguished like a flame in the foul air of a vault. A great deal of
the enthusiasm of the crusade died away amid the bickerings of
Constantinople; and even the cowardly effeminacy of the Greeks proved in
some degree contagious, for the army of the Count of Toulouse, we find,
had at one time nearly disbanded itself. The luxury of the most luxurious
court of Europe, too, was not without its effect upon the crusaders, and
the memory of the delights of the imperial city was more likely to afford
subjects of disadvantageous comparisons, when opposed to the hardships of
Palestine, than the remembrance of the turbulent and governless realm from
which they had first begun their march.
The greatest misfortune of all, however--the cause of many of their vices,
and almost all their miseries,--was the want of one acknowledged leader,
whom it would have been treason to disobey. Each chief was his own king,
but he was not the king of even those who served under him. Many who had
followed his banner to the field were nearly his equals in power, and it
was only over his immediate vassals that he had any but conditional right
of command. In respect to his vassals themselves, this right was much
affected by circumstances; and over the chiefs around him, he had no
control whatever. Thus, unity of design was never to be obtained; and
discord, the fatal stumblingblock of all great undertakings, was always
ready in the way, whenever the folly, the passions, or the selfishness of
any individual leader chose to dash upon it the hopes of himself and his
companions.
Nevertheless, during the siege of Nice, which was the first undertaking of
the crusaders, a considerable degree of harmony seems to have prevailed
among the leaders. Each, it is true, conducted his part of the attack
according to his own principles, but each seemed happy to assist the
other, and we hear of no wrangling for idle punctilios. The morals, too,
of the troops were hitherto pure, reaching a much higher point of virtue,
indeed, than might have been anticipated from the great mixture of
classes. I do not mean to say that they were free from vice, or were
exempt from the follies of their nature or their age; but the noble and
dignified manner in which the chiefs of the crusade, and the people in
general, bore the conduct of Alexius (mentioned hereafter), would lead me
to believe that they had preserved a considerable share of purity and
singleness of heart.
The first body of the crusaders which reached the city of Nice was that
led by Godfrey of Bouillon. He was not alone, however, being accompanied
by Hugh, Count of Vermandois; and very shortly after, the troops of Robert
of Flanders and Boemond of Tarentum arrived, and took up their position on
the northern side, while those of Godfrey had marked their camp towards
the east. The Count of Toulouse and the Bishop of Puy followed, and sat
down before the southern side,[207] leaving the west open for the Duke of
Normandy, who was expected from day to day.[208]
This city, the capital of the kingdom of Roum, was occupied by the
Seljukian Turks, and strongly defended by a solid wall, flanked by three
hundred and fifty towers. It was situated in the midst of a fertile plain,
and the waters of the lake Ascanius, to the west, gave it a facility of
communication with a large extent of country. The army of the crusaders,
after the arrival of the Count of Toulouse,[209] waited not the coming of
Robert of Normandy, but began the siege in form. Their forces were already
immense; and after the junction of Peter the Hermit with the ruins of his
multitude, and the Duke of Normandy with his powerful army, the amount of
the fighting men is said to have been six hundred thousand, without
comprising those who did not carry arms.[210] The number of knights[211]
is stated to have reached nearly two hundred thousand, which left a fair
proportion of inferior soldiers.
The general disposition of the troops had been made before the arrival of
the Count of Toulouse, and he marched his division towards the spot
assigned him on the Sunday after Ascension-day.[212] His coming, however,
was destined to be signalized by the first regular battle between the
Turks and their Christian invaders.
Soliman, or Kilidge Aslan, the sultaun of Roum, on the approach of the
crusaders, had left his capital[213] defended by a strong garrison, and
travelling through his dominions, hastened in every direction the levies
of his subjects. He soon collected a considerable body of horse,[214] and
leading them to the mountains which overlooked the plain of Nice, he sent
down two messengers to the city to concert with the governor a double
attack upon the camp of the Christians.
The messengers fell into the hands of the outposts of Godfrey. One was
killed on the spot, and the other, under the fear of death, betrayed the
secrets of the sultaun, giving at the same time an exaggerated account of
his forces.[215] Information of Soliman's approach was instantly sent to
Raimond of Toulouse, who was advancing from Nicomedia,[216] and by a
night-march he succeeded in joining the army of the Cross in time.
Scarcely had he taken up his position, when the Moslems began to descend
from the mountains, clad like the Christians in steel,[217] and borne by
horses fleet as the wind. Divided into two bodies,[218] the one attacked
the wearied troops of the Count of Toulouse, seeking to force its way
into the city, while the other fell upon the quarters of Godfrey of
Bouillon.
Doubtless Soliman thought to meet, in the immense multitude before him, a
wild and undisciplined crowd, like that of Peter the Hermit; but he soon
found bitterly his mistake. The crusaders received him every where with
chivalric valour, repulsed him on all points, became in turn the
assailants, and the plain round Nice grew one general scene of conflict.
The charging of the cavalry, the ringing of the lances and the swords upon
shields and corslets, the battle-cries of the Christians, and the
_techbir_ of the Turks; the shouts, the screams, the groans, rose up, we
are told, in a roar horrible to hear.[219]
At length, finding that the sally he had expected was not made, Soliman
retreated to the mountains; but it was only to repeat the attempt the
following day.[220] In this, although the besieged now comprehended his
intention, and issued forth upon the Christians on the one side, while he
attacked them on the other, he was not more fortunate than before. He was
again repelled with great loss, owning his astonishment at the lion-like
courage of the Christian leaders, who with a thousand lances would often
charge and put to flight twenty times the number of Turkish horsemen.
According to a barbarous custom prevalent at that time, and which even
descended to a much later period, the crusaders hewed off the heads of the
fallen Moslems,[221] and cast many of them into the city. Others were sent
to Constantinople in token of victory; and Alexius, as a sign of gratitude
and rejoicing, instantly despatched large presents to the principal chiefs
of the crusade, with great quantities of provisions for the army, which
had long been straitened to a fearful degree.
After the defeat of Soliman,[222] the siege was pressed with renewed
vigour; and battering-rams, catapults, and mangonels were plied
incessantly against the walls, while moveable towers of wood, called
beffroys, filled with armed men, were rolled close to the fortifications,
for the purpose of carrying on the fight hand to hand with the enemy, and
of endeavouring to effect a lodgment on the battlements.
In the mean while, the plains round Nice offered a spectacle of the most
extraordinary brilliancy. The glittering arms of the knights, their
painted shields, and fluttering pennons--the embroidered banners of the
barons, their splendid coats-of-arms and magnificent mantles--the gorgeous
robes of the Latin priests, who were present in immense numbers, and the
animated multitude of bowmen and foot-soldiers, mingled with thousands of
that most beautiful of beasts, the horse, all spread out in the unclouded
brightness of an Asiatic sky, formed as shining and extraordinary a scene
as the eye could look upon.
Not frightened, however, by the terrific splendour that surrounded them,
the Turks continued to defend their battlements with persevering valour.
Every attack of the Christians was met with dauntless intrepidity, and
every laboured attempt to sap the wall, or its towers, was frustrated with
unwearied assiduity. Those who approached near were either slain by
poisoned arrows,[223] or crushed under immense stones; and the moment any
one was killed at the foot of the wall,[224] "it was horrible to see the
Turks," says an eyewitness, "seize upon the body with iron hooks let down
from above, and lifting it up through the air strip it completely, and
then cast it out from the city." Innumerable artifices were resorted to by
the assailants to force their way into the town; and none of the chiefs
seem to have been more active and ingenious than the Count of
Toulouse,[225] who once succeeded in undermining a tower, and casting it
to the ground. Before this work was concluded, however, night had fallen
over the army, and ere the next morning the laborious activity of the
Turks had repaired the damage which their wall had suffered.
Two of the principal[226] German barons, also, contrived a machine of
wood, to which they gave the name of _the fox_. It was capable of
containing twenty knights, and was secured by its immense solidity from
all the efforts of the enemy. When this was completed, a vast multitude
began to push it towards the part of the curtain which they intended to
sap, but the inequality of the ground and the great weight of the machine
itself caused some of the joints to give way, when the whole fabric fell
to pieces, crushing under its ruins the unhappy knights within.
The arrival[227] of Robert of Normandy brought a vast accession of
strength to the besiegers; notwithstanding which, during the remainder of
the siege of Nice, the immense numbers of the crusaders did not produce
that scarcity of provision which ultimately fell upon them; for Alexius,
interested more than any one in the capture of the city, took care, after
the first few days, that the supplies should be ample and unremitted.
Nevertheless the courage of the garrison did not at all decrease, and for
five weeks they still continued to return the assailants combat for
combat, the whole day being consumed in a storm of arrows from the bows
and arbalists, and of stones from the catapults and mangonels.[228]
Numerous instances of extraordinary personal courage, shown on both sides,
are of course recorded, and each different historian has his own hero,
whose deeds are lauded to the sky. One Turk in particular signalized
himself by an immense slaughter of the crusaders, showing himself exposed
upon the battlements, and plying his terrible bow, which winged death in
every direction. The Christians became so fearful of him, that that most
imaginative passion, terror, began to invest him with some supernatural
defence.[229] The best-aimed arrows proved totally ineffectual, and
reports spread rapidly that he might be seen, still sending destruction
around from his hand, while twenty shafts--each carrying the fate of a
common mortal--were sticking unheeded in his flesh. Godfrey of Bouillon,
to end the panic that this man occasioned, at length took a crossbow
himself, though that machine[230] was considered but a fit weapon for a
yeoman, and directing the quarry with a steadier hand than those which had
before aimed at the Turkish archer, he sent the missile directly to his
heart.[231]
A multitude of the noblest crusaders had now fallen before the bows of the
enemy, and many more had yielded to the effects of a climate totally
different from their own. "Thus," says one of the followers of the Cross,
"nothing was to be seen on the highways, in the woods, and the fields, but
a crowd of tombs,[232] where our brethren had been buried."
At last, the leaders perceived the existence of a circumstance, their
neglect of which, in the very first instance, showed how much the art of
warfare was then in its infancy. One evening, after a fierce assault, the
soldiers stationed near the water, who, in common with the rest of the
host, usually rested from the labours of the siege during the night,
suddenly perceived boats upon the lake Ascanius, and it immediately became
evident that the Turks received every kind of supply by this easy means of
communication. As soon as this was discovered, various vessels were
brought from Constantinople, and being drawn to the lake over a narrow
neck of land which separated it from the sea, were filled with imperial
archers;[233] and the blockade of the town was thus rendered absolute.
This was executed during the night, and all hope abandoned the Turks from
the next morning, when they beheld that which had proved their great
resource suddenly cut off.
The crusaders now hoped to force the city to surrender at discretion; and
their expectations of such an event were much raised by the fact of the
sultauness, the wife of Soliman, who had hitherto courageously undergone
all the miseries and dangers of a siege, being taken in endeavouring to
make her escape by the lake.[234]
By this time the besieged had determined to surrender; but Alexius had
taken care to send with the army of the Cross an officer on whose art and
fidelity he could depend, to secure for the imperial crown a city which he
would probably have rather seen still under the dominion of the Turks,
than in the hands of the Latins.
This man's name was Taticius, or, according to the crusaders' corruption,
Tatin.[235] His face was dreadfully mutilated, and his mind seems to have
been as horrible as his countenance. What communication he kept up within
the town it is difficult to discover; and how this communication was
concealed from the Latins is hardly known, but probably it took place, as
Mills conjectures, by means of the lake and the Greek vessels which now
covered it. Certain it is, that the Turks entered into a private treaty
with the emissary of Alexius, who granted them the most advantageous
terms, securing to them not only life,[236] but immunity and protection.
It had been covenanted beforehand, between the emperor and the crusaders,
that on the fall of the city it should be resigned to Alexius, who
promised to give up to the troops all the riches it contained,[237] and
to found there a monastery, and an hospital for pilgrims, under the
superintendence of the Latins.[238] Not contented with this, or doubting
the faith of his allies, he took the means I have stated to secure
possession. Suddenly the imperial ensigns appeared upon the walls of Nice,
when the host of the crusade was just rushing to the attack in the full
confidence of victory. It was now found that the people of the city had
surrendered privately to Alexius, and had admitted his troops within the
walls; but it required the greatest efforts of the leaders of the crusade,
although disgusted with this treachery themselves, to quiet their forces,
and reconcile them to the perfidy of their base ally.[239]
On the part of the Christians, the wife and children of Kilidge Aslan, who
had fallen into their hands, were delivered to the Turks; and, at the same
time, all those prisoners which had been taken by Soliman, on the defeat
of _Gautier sans avoir_, were restored to liberty. So little, however, did
Alexius keep his treaty with the crusaders, that, instead of yielding to
them the whole plunder of Nice, he contented himself with distributing
some rich presents to the chiefs,[240] and some money to the poor of the
army; and suffered them, thus dissatisfied and injured, to raise their
camp and march on towards Jerusalem, without permitting them to set foot
within the city they had conquered.[241]
The army of the Cross waited no time under the walls of Nice, but as soon
as the principal leaders had returned from Pelicanum, whither they had
gone once more to confer with Alexius, it began its march.[242] At the end
of the second day the forces of the different chiefs[243] were
accidentally separated,[244] Boemond and the Duke of Normandy taking a
path considerably to the left of that followed by Godfrey and the rest of
the host. They proceeded on their way, notwithstanding, knowing that they
could not be very far from the principal body, and towards night pitched
their camp in the valley of Gorgon, in the midst of some rich meadows, and
near a running stream.[245]
Their situation was, nevertheless, not near so desirable as they imagined,
for Soliman, who during the siege of Nice had made the most immense
efforts for the purpose of relieving that city, now that it had fallen,
hung with the whole of his force,[246] to the amount of nearly two hundred
thousand men,[247] upon the left flank of the army of the crusaders,
concealing his own evolutions by his perfect knowledge of the country, and
watching those of his enemies with the keen anxiety of a falcon hovering
over her prey. No sooner had the separation we have mentioned taken place
in the host of the Cross, than the sultaun hastened his march to overtake
the army of Boemond, which was infinitely the weaker of the two divisions.
Accustomed to every sort of rapid movement, Soliman soon came up with the
forces of the Prince of Tarentum and the Duke of Normandy.
The crusaders had been from time to time warned, during the preceding
day, that an enemy was in the neighbourhood, by the sight of scattered
parties of Arabs hovering round their army.[248] They nevertheless
encamped by the side of a beautiful stream, that, flowing on through the
rich valley in which they were advancing, proceeded to join itself to the
waters of the Sangarius. Here they passed the night in repose, taking
merely the precaution of throwing out sentinels to the banks of the
stream. Early the next morning, Boemond and Robert again commenced their
march, and had advanced some way,[249] when the immense army of Soliman
began to appear upon the hills.
Boemond instantly sent off messengers to Godfrey of Bouillon, and the rest
of his noble companions, of whose proximity he had now become aware, and
gave orders for drawing up his forces, for pitching the tents, and for
making a rampart of the wagons[250] and baggage for the defence of the
sick and the weak from the arrows of the Turks. In the mean while, turning
to his knights and men at arms, he addressed them with the brief eloquence
of courage. "Remember the duties of your calling!" he exclaimed. "Behold
the peril in which you are placed--charge boldly to meet the
infidels--defend your honour and your lives!"
While he spoke, the Turks rushed down to the battle with terrific
cries,[251] which, mingling with the tramp of two hundred thousand horse,
and the ringing of their armour, together with the trumpets of the
Christian host, and the shouts of the chiefs and the heralds, raised so
fearful a din, that no one could hear another speak among the followers of
the Cross.
The army of Boemond, hastily drawn up, presented a mingled front of horse
and foot soldiers, and pilgrims,[252] some but half-armed, some not armed
at all; while the Turks came down in one torrent of cavalry. The immense
numbers which it contained all blazing with glittering arms, and provided
with bows of horn and scimitars, dazzled and dismayed the troops of the
Christians. As the infidels approached, the European Chivalry dropped the
points of their long lances, and prepared to hurl back their foes, as was
their wont, by the heavy and decided charge which proved always so
effective; but suddenly, each Moslem raised his bow even as he galloped
forward,[253] a thick cloud seemed to come over the sun, and then, two
hundred thousand arrows dropping at once among the crusaders, a
multitude[254] of men and horses were instantly stretched upon the plain.
Before the Christians could rally from the surprise, a second flight of
arrows followed the first, doing dreadful execution among the
foot-soldiers and the steeds of the knights.[255] But now Tancred and
Boemond led on their troops to the charge, and spurred their horses into
the midst of the enemy. The Turks, as was their habit, yielded ground on
every side, avoiding, by the swiftness of their chargers, the lances and
the swords of the Christians, and, like the Parthians of old, continuing
their fearful archery even as they fled.
Vain were all the efforts of the European Chivalry, though, throwing away
their useless spears, they endeavoured to reach the Turks with their
swords;[256] but now, in turn, the swarming multitudes of their foes,
pouring down fresh from the mountains on every side, no longer retreated,
but pressed closer and closer upon them; and as each adversary fell
beneath the vigorous blows of the knights, new foes started up to meet
them.
In the mean while, thick and fast was mown the flower of the Christian
army. The brother of Tancred, famed alike for his beauty and his courage,
was slain before the eyes of his relation.[257] Tancred himself,
surrounded by a thousand enemies, fought as if Fate had put the weapon in
his hands, but fought in vain. Boemond, with all his efforts, could
scarcely extricate his gallant cousin from the torrent of adversaries in
the midst of which he struggled, and even then it was with the loss of the
banner of Otranto.[258]
Borne back by the growing multitude that pressed upon them, the knights
gave way before the Saracens, and were driven struggling upon the very
pikes[259] of the foot-soldiers that were advancing to their support. At
the same time Soliman, whose numbers gave him the means of surrounding the
army of the crusaders, directed several large bodies of his cavalry
through some marshes to the rear of the Christians, and in a moment the
camp[260] of Boemond was invaded and deluged with the blood of the old,
the women, and the helpless![261]
Robert of Normandy, however, who had commanded the reserve, now beholding
the flight of his allies, roused all the courage of his heart; and
uncovering his head in the midst of the fray, shouted forth his
battle-cry[262] of "Normandy! Normandy! Whither fly you Boemond?" he
exclaimed; "Your Apulia is afar! Where go you Tancred? Otranto is not near
you! Turn! turn upon the enemy! God wills it! God wills it!" And seizing
his banner, he spurred on with his followers against the Turks, drove them
back, rallied the cavalry, and restored order and regularity to the
defence.
Boemond, in the mean while, had turned his arms towards the camp; and the
Turks had retreated from that quarter of the field, bearing with them all
that was valuable, and a considerable number of prisoners. The army of the
crusade was now concentrated on one spot, while that of the Turks,
surrounding it on all sides, gave it not a moment's repose. Soldier fell
beside soldier, knight beside knight.[263] Fatigue and thirst rendered
those that remained little capable of defence; and the dust and the hot
sun made many of the wounds mortal, which otherwise would have been slight
in comparison. In this conjuncture,[264] the women that remained proved
infinitely serviceable, bringing to the troops water from the river, and
by prayers and exhortations encouraging them to the fight.
Thus lasted the battle for many hours, when first a cloud of dust, rising
from behind the hills, announced that some new combatants were hurrying to
the field. Then rose above the slope banner, and pennon, and lance, and
glittering arms, while the red cross fluttering on the wind brought hope
and joy to the sinking hearts of the crusaders, and terror and dismay to
the victorious Turks.[265] In scattered bands, spurring on their horses as
for life, came the Chivalry of the west to the aid of their brother
Christians. None waited for the others; but each hastened to the fight as
the fleetness of his charger would permit, and rank after rank, troop
after troop, banner followed by banner, and spear glittering after spear,
came rushing over the mountains to the valley of the battle. "God wills
it! God wills it!" echoed from hill to hill.[266]
Robert of Normandy shouted his war-cry, Boemond, with renewed hope,
couched his lance, and Tancred rushed upon the slayers of his brother.
At the same time[267] Godfrey of Bouillon arrayed his army as they came
up, and, with levelled lances, drove down upon the Turks. Hugh of
Vermandois attacked them on the flank, and Raimond of Toulouse, with the
warlike bishop of Puy, soon increased the forces of the Cross.
The Turks[268] still made great and valorous efforts to maintain the
superiority they had gained, but the charge of the Latin Chivalry was
irresistible. The infidels were driven back, compelled to fly in disorder,
and pursued over the mountains by the victorious crusaders.[269] In the
hills the Christians, who followed hard upon their course, discovered the
camp of the Saracens, where immense booty, both in gold and
provisions,[270] became the recompense of their exertions. Here, also,
they found all the prisoners who had been taken in the first part of the
battle, and a great number of beasts of burthen, of which they were
themselves in great need. Among the rest was a multitude of camels, an
animal which few of the Franks had ever seen before. These were all
brought to the Christian encampment, and rejoicing succeeded the fatigues
and horrors of the day.
The loss of the crusaders, after so long and severe a battle, if we can
depend upon the account generally given, was very much less than might
have been anticipated. Only four thousand men[271] are supposed to have
fallen on the part of the Christians; these were principally, also, of the
inferior classes, who, unprotected by the armour which defended the
persons of the knights, were fully exposed to the arrows of the Turks.
Three men of great note, among the champions of the Cross, were added to
this list of killed[272]--William, the brother of Tancred; Geoffrey of
Mount Scabius; and Robert of Paris, whose conduct at the court of Alexius
we have before mentioned. The loss on the part of the Turks was infinitely
more considerable, and thus, at the close of the battle of Doryloeum, the
Christian leaders found that they had marked their progress towards the
Holy Land by a great and decisive victory.
The crusading armies now paused for several days,[273] enjoying the repose
and comfort which the spot afforded, and which their exhausted troops so
much required. The wounds of the soldiers who had suffered in the late
battle were thus in some degree healed; and the abundance of provisions
the enemy had left behind served to renovate the strength and raise up the
hopes and enthusiasm of the Christians. In the mean while, the Turks, who
had survived their defeat at Doryloeum, spread themselves in large bands
over the country, and, pretending to have totally overcome the Latins,
forced themselves into the cities, destroying and wasting every thing in
their way.[274] The Christians thus, in their march through Phrygia, had
to cross a large tract which had been completely ravaged by the enemy.
With their usual improvidence, they had exhausted the provisions they had
found in their adversary's camp; and ignorant of the country, they had
provided themselves with no water, so that they had to encounter all the
heat of the solstitial days of a Phrygian climate, without a drop of
liquid to allay their burning thirst. Men and horses fell by thousands in
the way;[275] and the women, parched with drought, and dying with fatigue,
forgot delicacy, feeling, and even the ties of human nature--rolled
prostrate on the ground with the agony of thirst--offered their naked
bosoms to the swords of the soldiers, and prayed for death--or threw down
their new-born children in the track of the army, and abandoned them to a
slow and miserable fate! The most terrible mortality prevailed among the
beasts of burden, so that the animals accustomed to bear the baggage of
the host having nearly all died by the way, dogs and oxen, and even
hogs,[276] are said to have been loaded with the lighter articles of
necessity, while an immense quantity of luggage was cast away on the road.
Many falcons and dogs--a part of knightly equipage never forgotten--had
been brought from Europe to Asia; but the dogs, spreading their nostrils
in vain to the hot wind for the least breath of moisture, left the
long-accustomed hand that they were wont to love, and straying through the
desolate land, died among the mountains; while the clear eye of the noble
falcon withered under the fiery sky, which nothing but a vulture could
endure; and, after long privation, he dropped from the glove that held
him.[277]
At length water was discovered, and the whole army rushed forward to the
river. Their intemperate eagerness[278] rendered the means of relief
nearly as destructive as the thirst which they had endured, and many were
added to the victims of that horrible march by their own imprudent
indulgence in the cool blessing that they had found at last. The country
now had changed its aspect, and nothing presented itself but splendid
fertility till the host of the crusade reached the city of Antiochetta,
where, surrounded by rivulets, and forests, and rich pastures, they
pitched their tents, determined to enjoy the earthly paradise that spread
around them.
Some of the warriors, however, whose energetic spirit no fatigues could
daunt[279] or subdue, soon tired of the idle sweets of Antiochetta[280]
and voluntarily separated themselves from the army, seeking either renown
or profit, by detached enterprises. Tancred on the one hand, with the
Prince of Salernum, and several other nobles, five hundred knights, and a
party of foot-soldiers, set out from the army of Boemond, to explore the
country, and ascertain the strength of the enemies by which they were
surrounded. Detaching himself, at the same time, from the division of
Godfrey of Bouillon, Baldwin, the brother of that leader, joined Tancred
with a somewhat superior force, actuated probably more by the hope of his
own individual aggrandizement, than by any purpose of serving the general
cause of the crusade.
After wandering for some time through the districts round Iconium and
Heraclea,[281] which the Turks had taken care to desolate beforehand, the
two chieftains again separated, and Tancred, pursuing his way by Cilicia,
came suddenly before Tarsus. The Turks, by whom that city was garrisoned,
knowing that the greater part of the populace was opposed to them,
surrendered almost immediately on the approach of the Christian leader,
and while he encamped with his forces under the walls, waiting, according
to stipulation, for the arrival of Boemond, his banner was hoisted upon
the towers of the town.[282] Scarcely had this been done when Baldwin also
appeared, and at first, the two armies, each conceiving the other to be an
enemy, prepared to give one another battle. The mistake was soon
discovered, and Tancred welcomed his comrade in arms to Tarsus. The
feelings of Baldwin, however, were less chivalric than those of the noble
chief of Otranto, and the banner of Tancred flying on the walls of Tarsus
was an object that he could not long endure. After passing a day or two in
apparent amity, he suddenly demanded possession of the city, declaring,
that as he led the superior force, he was entitled to command. Tancred
scoffed at the absurd pretence, and both parties had nearly betaken
themselves to arms.[283] The noble moderation of the Italian leader
brought about a temporary reconciliation. He agreed that the people of the
city themselves should be referred to, and choose the chief to whom they
would submit. This was accordingly done, and the inhabitants instantly
fixed upon the knight to whom they had first surrendered.[284] But Baldwin
was yet unsatisfied; and after having made a proposal to sack and pillage
the town, which was rejected with scorn and abhorrence by his more
generous fellow-soldier, he caballed with the citizens and the Turks, till
he won them to throw down Tancred's banner, and yield themselves to him.
Mortified, indignant, even enraged, the steady purpose of right within the
bosom of the chief of Otranto maintained him still in that undeviating
course of rectitude which he had always pursued; and, resolved not to
imbrue a sword drawn for honour and religion in the blood of his
fellow-christians,[285] he withdrew his forces from before Tarsus, and
turned his arms against Mamistra. The Turks here, more bold than those of
the former city, beheld his approach unawed, and held out the town for
several days, till at length it fell by storm, and the victorious chief
planted his banner on those walls with far more honourable glory than that
which surrounded the standard of Baldwin at Tarsus.
In the mean while, another body of crusaders, detached from the troops of
Boemond, arrived before the city in which Baldwin had established himself,
and demanded entrance, or at least assistance and provisions. Baldwin[286]
cruelly caused the gates to be shut upon them; and had it not been for the
charitable care of some of the Christian inhabitants, who let them down
wine and food from the walls, they would have been left to expire of want.
A fate hardly better awaited them. The Turks had still, by their
capitulation, maintained possession of several of the towers of Tarsus,
but fearful of the superior force of Baldwin, they sought but a fair
opportunity to escape without pursuit. The very night that the detachment
of which I have spoken above arrived, the Turks carried their intentions
into effect,[287] and finding a small body of Christians sleeping under
the walls without defence, they made the massacre of the whole the first
step in their flight. The soldiers of Baldwin and the citizens of Tarsus,
who had together witnessed, with indignation, the barbarous conduct of the
French chieftain, now rose in absolute revolt.[288] Baldwin, however,
having remained in concealment for a few days, contrived to pacify his
followers, and to overawe the city. After this he joined himself to a band
of piratical adventurers, who about that time arrived accidentally at
Tarsus, and who, mingling their lust of prey with some dark and
superstitious notions of religion, had turned their course towards the
Holy Land, in the pleasant hope of serving both God and Mammon with the
sword.[289] With these Baldwin continued to ravage Cilicia, and at length
approaching Mamistra, in which Tancred had established himself, he pitched
his tents upon the immediate territory of that city. Tancred now gave way
to his indignation, and issuing forth, though accompanied by very inferior
forces, he attacked Baldwin sword in hand, when a fierce engagement ensued
between the two Christian armies. The struggle was severe but short: the
superior numbers of the French prevailed, and Tancred was forced to
retreat into the city. On one side, the Prince of Salernum was made
prisoner by Baldwin,[290] and on the other, Gilbert of Montclar was taken;
but the next day, shame for their unchristian dissensions took possession
of each chief. Peace was agreed upon; they embraced in sight of the two
hosts; the captives were exchanged, and, as usual, Satan got the credit of
the dispute. Baldwin proceeded, after this, to join the main army, and
left his piratical associates to aid Tancred in laying waste the country.
During these events the great body of the crusade had remained for some
time at Antiochetta, where the people continued to acquire new health and
strength, in the enjoyment of that tranquillity and abundance which had
been so long withheld from them. Not so the chiefs, two of whom[291]--and
those of the most distinguished--had nearly, in this period of repose and
peace, found that death which they had so often dared in the midst of
battle and hardship.
Godfrey of Bouillon, in delivering a pilgrim from the attack of a
huge[292] bear in the woods of Antiochetta, had almost fallen a victim to
his chivalrous courage: he received so many wounds, that even after having
slain his ferocious adversary, he could not drag himself from the forest
to the camp; and remained long and dangerously ill in consequence. At the
same time, the Count of Toulouse was seized with a violent fever, which
brought him to the brink of the grave. He was taken from his bed and laid
upon the ground--as was customary among the pilgrims at the hour of death,
that they might expire with all humility--and the Bishop of Orange
administered the last sacraments of the church:[293] but a certain Count
of Saxe, who accompanied the army, came to visit the leader of the
Provençals, and told him that St. Giles (the patron saint of the Counts of
Toulouse) had twice appeared to him in a dream, assuring him that so
valuable a life should be spared to the crusaders.
Whether from the effect of that most excellent medicine, hope, or from a
natural turn in his disease, the count suddenly began to recover, and
before long was sufficiently well to accompany the army in a litter. The
chiefs of the crusade now directed their march towards Antioch, suffering
not a little from the desolate state of the country, which, devastated on
every side by the Turks, afforded no means of supplying the immense
multitude that followed the standard of the Cross. After passing Iconium
and Heraclea, their fatigues were destined to increase rather than
diminish. Their road now lay through uninhabited wilds, which Robert the
Monk describes in language at once picturesque and terrific.[294] "They
travelled," says he, "with deplorable suffering through mountains where no
path was to be found except the paths of reptiles and savage beasts, and
where the passages afforded no more space than just sufficient to place
one foot before the other, in tracks shut in between rocks and thorny
bushes. The depths of the precipices seemed to sink down to the centre of
the earth, while the summits of the mountains appeared to rise up to the
firmament. The knights and men-at-arms walked forward with uncertain
steps, the armour being slung over their shoulders, and each of them
acting as a foot-soldier, for none dared mount his horse. Many would
willingly have sold their helmets, their breastplates, or their shields,
had they found any one to buy, and some, wearied out, cast down their
arms, to walk more lightly. No loaded horses could pass, and the men were
obliged to carry the whole burdens. None could stop or sit down: none
could aid his companion, except where the one who came behind might
sometimes help the person before him, though those that preceded could
hardly turn the head towards those that followed. Nevertheless, having
traversed these horrible paths, or rather these pathless wildernesses,
they arrived at length at the city named Marasia, the inhabitants of which
received them with joy and respect."
At Marasch the host was rejoined by Baldwin, whose wife died a few days
before his arrival. His brother Godfrey,[295] too, was still suffering
from the effects of his combat with the wild beast, and all the chiefs of
the crusade, indignant at his conduct at Tarsus, gave him but a chilling
and gloomy reception.[296] The spirit of individual aggrandizement was
still the strongest passion in the breast of Baldwin, and the coldness of
his companions in arms yielded him no great encouragement to stay and
employ his efforts for the general object of the expedition, rather than
for the purposes of his own selfish ambition. He very soon abandoned the
rest of the chiefs, contriving to seduce two hundred knights, and a large
party of foot-soldiers, to join him; and as his course was thenceforth
separate from the rest of the crusaders, I shall follow the example of
Guibert, and briefly trace it out, till it falls again into the general
stream of events.
Accompanied by Pancrates,[297] an Armenian, who painted in glowing colours
the wealth of the provinces on the other side of the Euphrates,[298] and
the facility with which they might be conquered, he set out with the vague
hope of plundering something and overcoming some one, he knew not well
what or whom. However, his skill as a commander was certain to find matter
on which to exercise itself, in a country possessed by an active enemy,
while his rapacious propensities were very likely to be gratified in a
rich and plentiful land, where the many were oppressed by the few.
Turbessel[299] and Ravendel fell immediately into his hands, and were at
first placed under the command of his companion, Pancrates; but beginning
to suspect that personage, he forced him to deliver up the cities, by
imprisonment, torture, and a threat of having him torn limb from
limb.[300] He then passed onward, crossed the Euphrates, and at the
invitation of Thoros, sovereign of Edessa, entered that city, to free it
from the power of the Turks. Thoros, a weak and childless old man, was
driven by the inhabitants--who were terrified at their infidel neighbours,
and had no confidence in their feeble monarch--to adopt the brother of
Godfrey, with all the curious ceremonies then practised on such occasions.
He passed his own shirt over Baldwin's shoulders,[301] pressed him to his
naked breast, and publicly declared him his son.[302]
The transactions that followed are very obscure, and as I have not been
able to satisfy myself in regard to the share which Baldwin had in the
tumults that succeeded, and the death of Thoros, I will but state the
facts, without attempting to trace them to secret causes, which are now
hidden in the dark tabernacle of the past. Something we know--Baldwin was
ambitious, unscrupulous, intriguing, cruel--and shortly after his arrival,
the people of Edessa rose against their unhappy prince, slew him, and
elected Baldwin in his place. It does not absolutely appear that Baldwin
was the instigator of these riots, or the prompter of the death of Thoros;
but it does appear that he did not exert himself as he might have done to
put them down. That it was in his power to suppress them is evinced by the
rapidity with which he reduced the Edessians[303] to the most submissive
obedience, immediately that the rank for which he had to contend was his
own. He afterward proceeded to aggrandize his dominions, by attacking
various of the neighbouring cities, and thus, in continual struggles, he
passed his days, till some time after his companions in arms had completed
their conquest of the Holy Land.
In the mean while, Tancred took possession of the whole country as far as
the town of Alexandretta, in the Gulf of Ajasse; and the great army of the
crusade continued its march, throwing forward Robert of Flanders to seize
on Artesia.[304] The Mahommedan soldiery prepared to resist; but the
Armenian inhabitants opened the gates to their Christian deliverers, and
the infidels were massacred without mercy. On the news of this event,
Baghasian, the commander of the Turkish garrison of Antioch, apparently
not knowing the immediate proximity of the whole Christian force,
endeavoured to cut off, by stratagem, the small army of the Count of
Flanders, who was accompanied by only one thousand knights. For this
purpose the Turk advanced from Antioch,[305] followed by nearly twenty
thousand horsemen, whom he placed in ambush in a plain near the city,
while he himself, at the head of a petty detachment, armed alone with
bows of horn,[306] advanced as if to reconnoitre the Christian troops.
Robert of Flanders and his knights suffered themselves to be deceived, and
charged the enemy, who fled before them, but in a moment they were
surrounded by immensely superior numbers, who, with terrific cries, rushed
on, to what appeared a certain victory. The gallantry[307] and courage of
the Christian warriors served to deliver them from the danger into which
the excess of that very courage had brought them, and charging the Turks
with vigour in one decided direction, they succeeded in cutting their way
through, and effecting their retreat to the city.
Here, however, they were besieged by the enemy; but the arrival of
Tancred, on his return from his victorious expedition, together with
reinforcements from the main army, relieved them from the presence of the
Turks, who retreated upon Antioch.