who, at his call, had forsaken Europe, his heart was moved with grief
and pity at their misfortunes. All his former zeal revived: casting
himself at the feet of the Emperor Alexius, he implored him, with tears
in his eyes, to send relief to the few survivors at Civitot. The
Emperor consented, and a force was sent, which arrived just in time to
save them from destruction. The Turks had beleaguered the place, and
the crusaders were reduced to the last extremity. Negotiations were
entered into, and the last three thousand were conducted in safety to
Constantinople. Alexius had suffered too much by their former excesses
to be very desirous of retaining them in his capital: he therefore
caused them all to be disarmed, and, furnishing each with a sum of
money, he sent them back to their own country. While these events were
taking place, fresh hordes were issuing from the woods and wilds of
Germany, all bent for the Holy Land. They were commanded by a fanatical
priest, named Gottschalk, who, like Gautier and Peter the Hermit, took
his way through Hungary. History is extremely meagre in her details of
the conduct and fate of this host, which amounted to at least one
hundred thousand men. Robbery and murder seem to have journeyed with
them, and the poor Hungarians were rendered almost desperate by their
numbers and rapacity. Karloman, the king of the country, made a bold
effort to get rid of them; for the resentment of his people had arrived
at such a height, that nothing short of the total extermination of the
crusaders would satisfy them. Gottschalk had to pay the penalty, not
only for the ravages of his own bands, but for those of the swarms that
had come before him. He and his army were induced, by some means or
other, to lay down their arms: the savage Hungarians, seeing them thus
defenceless, set upon them, and slaughtered them in great numbers. How
many escaped their arrows, we are not informed; but not one of them
reached Palestine.
Other swarms, under nameless leaders, issued from Germany and France,
more brutal and more frantic than any that had preceded them. Their
fanaticism surpassed by far the wildest freaks of the followers of the
Hermit. In bands, varying in numbers from one to five thousand, they
traversed the country in all directions, bent upon plunder and
massacre. They wore the symbol of the crusade upon their shoulders, but
inveighed against the folly of proceeding to the Holy Land to destroy
the Turks, while they left behind them so many Jews, the still more
inveterate enemies of Christ. They swore fierce vengeance against this
unhappy race, and murdered all the Hebrews they could lay their hands
on, first subjecting them to the most horrible mutilation. According
to the testimony of Albert Aquensis, they lived among each other in the
most shameless profligacy, and their vice was only exceeded by their
superstition. Whenever they were in search of Jews, they were preceded
by a goose and goat, which they believed to be holy, and animated with
divine power to discover the retreats of the unbelievers. In Germany
alone they slaughtered more than a thousand Jews, notwithstanding all
the efforts of the clergy to save them. So dreadful was the cruelty of
their tormentors, that great numbers of Jews committed self-destruction
to avoid falling into their hands.
Again it fell to the lot of the Hungarians to deliver Europe from these
pests. When there were no more Jews to murder, the bands collected in
one body, and took the old route to the Holy Land, a route stained with
the blood of three hundred thousand who had gone before, and destined
also to receive theirs. The number of these swarms has never been
stated; but so many of them perished in Hungary, that contemporary
writers, despairing of giving any adequate idea of their multitudes,
state that the fields were actually heaped with their corpses, and that
for miles in its course the waters of the Danube were dyed with their
blood. It was at Mersburg, on the Danube, that the greatest slaughter
took place,--a slaughter so great as to amount almost to extermination.
The Hungarians for a while disputed the passage of the river, but the
crusaders forced their way across, and attacking the city with the
blind courage of madness, succeeded in making a breach in the walls. At
this moment of victory an unaccountable fear came over them. Throwing
down their arms they fled panic-stricken, no one knew why, and no one
knew whither. The Hungarians followed, sword in hand, and cut them down
without remorse, and in such numbers, that the stream of the Danube is
said to have been choked up by their unburied bodies.
This was the worst paroxysm of the madness of Europe; and this passed,
her chivalry stepped upon the scene. Men of cool heads, mature plans,
and invincible courage stood forward to lead and direct the grand
movement of Europe upon Asia. It is upon these men that romance has
lavished her most admiring epithets, leaving to the condemnation of
history the vileness and brutality of those who went before. Of these
leaders the most distinguished were Godfrey of Bouillon Duke of
Lorraine, and Raymond Count of Toulouse. Four other chiefs of the royal
blood of Europe also assumed the Cross, and led each his army to the
Holy Land: Hugh, Count of Vermandois, brother of the King of France;
Robert, Duke of Normandy, the elder brother of William Rufus; Robert
Count of Flanders, and Boemund Prince of Tarentum, eldest son of the
celebrated Robert Guiscard. These men were all tinged with the
fanaticism of the age, but none of them acted entirely from religious
motives. They were neither utterly reckless like Gautier sans Avoir,
crazy like Peter the Hermit, nor brutal like Gottschalk the Monk, but
possessed each of these qualities in a milder form; their valour being
tempered by caution, their religious zeal by worldly views, and their
ferocity by the spirit of chivalry. They saw whither led the torrent of
the public will; and it being neither their wish nor their interest to
stem it, they allowed themselves to be carried with it, in the hope
that it would lead them at last to a haven of aggrandizement. Around
them congregated many minor chiefs, the flower of the nobility of
France and Italy, with some few from Germany, England, and Spain. It
was wisely conjectured that armies so numerous would find a difficulty
in procuring provisions if they all journeyed by the same road. They,
therefore, resolved to separate, Godfrey de Bouillon proceeding through
Hungary and Bulgaria, the Count of Toulouse through Lombardy and
Dalmatia, and the other leaders through Apulia to Constantinople, where
the several divisions were to reunite. The forces under these leaders
have been variously estimated. The Princess Anna Comnena talks of them
as having been as numerous as the sands on the sea-shore, or the stars
in the firmament. Fulcher of Chartres is more satisfactory, and
exaggerates less magnificently, when he states, that all the divisions,
when they had sat down before Nice in Bithynia, amounted to one hundred
thousand horsemen, and six hundred thousand men on foot, exclusive of
the priests, women and children. Gibbon is of opinion that this amount
is exaggerated; but thinks the actual numbers did not fall very far
short of the calculation. The Princess Anna afterwards gives the number
of those under Godfrey of Bouillon as eighty thousand foot and horse;
and supposing that each of the other chiefs led an army as numerous,
the total would be near half a million. This must be over rather than
under the mark, as the army of Godfrey of Bouillon was confessedly the
largest when it set out, and suffered less by the way than any other.
The Count of Vermandois was the first who set foot on the Grecian
territory. On his arrival at Durazzo he was received with every mark of
respect and courtesy by the agents of the Emperor, and his followers
were abundantly supplied with provisions. Suddenly however, and without
cause assigned, the Count was arrested by order of the Emperor Alexius,
and conveyed a close prisoner to Constantinople. Various motives have
been assigned by different authors as having induced the Emperor to
this treacherous and imprudent proceeding. By every writer he has been
condemned for so flagrant a breach of hospitality and justice. The most
probable reason for his conduct appears to be that suggested by Guibert
of Nogent, who states that Alexius, fearful of the designs of the
crusaders upon his throne, resorted to this extremity in order
afterwards to force the Count to take the oath of allegiance to him, as
the price of his liberation. The example of a prince so eminent as the
brother of the King of France, would, he thought, be readily followed
by the other chiefs of the Crusade. In the result he was wofully
disappointed, as every man deserves to be who commits positive evil
that doubtful good may ensue. But this line of policy accorded well
enough with the narrowmindedness of the Emperor, who, in the enervating
atmosphere of his highly civilized and luxurious court, dreaded the
influx of the hardy and ambitious warriors of the West, and strove to
nibble away by unworthy means, the power which he had not energy enough
to confront. If danger to himself had existed from the residence of the
chiefs in his dominions, he might easily have averted it, by the simple
means of placing himself at the head of the European movement, and
directing its energies to their avowed object, the conquest of the Holy
Land. But the Emperor, instead of being, as he might have been, the
lord and leader of the Crusades, which he had himself aided in no
inconsiderable degree to suscitate by his embassies to the Pope, became
the slave of men who hated and despised him. No doubt the barbarous
excesses of the followers of Gautier and Peter the Hermit made him look
upon the whole body of them with disgust, but it was the disgust of a
little mind, which is glad of any excuse to palliate or justify its own
irresolution and love of ease.
Godfrey of Bouillon traversed Hungary in the most quiet and orderly
manner. On his arrival at Mersburg he found the country strewed with
the mangled corpses of the Jew-killers, and demanded of the King of
Hungary for what reason his people had set upon them. The latter
detailed the atrocities they had committed, and made it so evident to
Godfrey that the Hungarians had only acted in self-defence, that the
high-minded leader declared himself satisfied and passed on, without
giving or receiving molestation. On his arrival at Philippopoli, he was
informed for the first time of the imprisonment of the Count of
Vermandois. He immediately sent messengers to the Emperor, demanding
the Count's release, and threatening, in case of refusal, to lay waste
the country with fire and sword. After waiting a day at Philippopoli he
marched on to Adrianople, where he was met by his messengers returning
with the Emperor's refusal. Godfrey, the bravest and most determined of
the leaders of the Crusade, was not a man to swerve from his word, and
the country was given up to pillage. Alexius here committed another
blunder. No sooner did he learn from dire experience that the crusader
was not an utterer of idle threats, than he consented to the release of
the prisoner. As he had been unjust in the first instance, he became
cowardly in the second, and taught his enemies (for so the crusaders
were forced to consider themselves) a lesson which they took care to
remember to his cost, that they could hope nothing from his sense of
justice, but every thing from his fears. Godfrey remained encamped for
several weeks in the neighbourhood of Constantinople, to the great
annoyance of Alexius, who sought by every means to extort from him the
homage he had extorted from Vermandois. Sometimes he acted as if at
open and declared war with the crusaders, and sent his troops against
them. Sometimes he refused to supply them with food, and ordered the
markets to be shut against them, while at other times he was all for
peace and goodwill, and sent costly presents to Godfrey. The honest,
straightforward crusader was at last so wearied by his false kindness,
and so pestered by his attacks, that, allowing his indignation to get
the better of his judgment, he gave up the country around
Constantinople to be plundered by his soldiers. For six days the flames
of the farm-houses around struck terror into the heart of Alexius, but
as Godfrey anticipated they convinced him of his error. Fearing that
Constantinople itself would be the next object of attack, he sent
messengers to demand an interview with Godfrey, offering at the same
time to leave his son as a hostage for his good faith. Godfrey agreed
to meet him, and, whether to put an end to these useless dissensions,
or for some other unexplained reason, he rendered homage to Alexius as
his liege lord. He was thereupon loaded with honours, and, according to
a singular custom of that age, underwent the ceremony of the "adoption
of honour," as son to the Emperor. Godfrey, and his brother Baudouin
de Bouillon, conducted themselves with proper courtesy on this
occasion, but were not able to restrain the insolence of their
followers, who did not conceive themselves bound to keep any terms with
a man so insincere as he had shown himself. One barbarous chieftain,
Count Robert of Paris, carried his insolence so far as to seat himself
upon the throne, an insult which Alexius merely resented with a sneer,
but which did not induce him to look with less mistrust upon the hordes
that were still advancing.
It is impossible, notwithstanding his treachery, to avoid feeling some
compassion for the Emperor, whose life at this time was rendered one
long scene of misery by the presumption of the crusaders, and his not
altogether groundless fears of the evil they might inflict upon him,
should any untoward circumstance force the current of their ambition to
the conquest of his empire. His daughter, Anna Comnena, feelingly
deplores his state of life at this time, and a learned German, [M.
Wilken's Geschichte der Kreuzzuge.] in a recent work, describes it, on
the authority of the Princess, in the following manner:--
"To avoid all occasion of offence to the Crusaders, Alexius complied
with all their whims, and their (on many occasions) unreasonable
demands, even at the expense of great bodily exertion, at a time when
he was suffering severely under the gout, which eventually brought him
to his grave. No crusader who desired an interview with him was refused
access: he listened with the utmost patience to the long-winded
harangues which their loquacity or zeal continually wearied him with:
he endured, without expressing any impatience, the unbecoming and
haughty language which they permitted themselves to employ towards him,
and severely reprimanded his officers when they undertook to defend the
dignity of the Imperial station from these rude assaults; for he
trembled with apprehension at the slightest disputes, lest they might
become the occasion of greater evil. Though the Counts often appeared
before him with trains altogether unsuitable to their dignity and to
his--sometimes with an entire troop, which completely filled the Royal
apartment--the Emperor held his peace. He listened to them at all
hours; he often seated himself on his throne at day-break to attend to
their wishes and requests, and the evening twilight saw him still in
the same place. Very frequently he could not snatch time to refresh
himself with meat and drink. During many nights he could not obtain any
repose, and was obliged to indulge in an unrefreshing sleep upon his
throne, with his head resting on his hands. Even this slumber was
continually disturbed by the appearance and harangues of some
newly-arrived rude knights. When all the courtiers, wearied out by the
efforts of the day and by night-watching, could no longer keep
themselves on their feet, and sank down exhausted--some upon benches
and others on the floor--Alexius still rallied his strength to listen
with seeming attention to the wearisome chatter of the Latins, that
they might have no occasion or pretext for discontent. In such a state
of fear and anxiety, how could Alexius comport himself with dignity and
like an Emperor?"
Alexius, however, had himself to blame, in a great measure, for the
indignities he suffered: owing to his insincerity, the crusaders
mistrusted him so much, that it became at last a common saying, that
the Turks and Saracens were not such inveterate foes to the Western or
Latin Christians as the Emperor Alexius and the Greeks.[Wilken] It
would be needless in this sketch, which does not profess to be so much
a history of the Crusades as of the madness of Europe, from which they
sprang, to detail the various acts of bribery and intimidation,
cajolery and hostility, by which Alexius contrived to make each of the
leaders in succession, as they arrived, take the oath of allegiance to
him as their Suzerain. One way or another he exacted from each the
barren homage on which he had set his heart, and they were then allowed
to proceed into Asia Minor. One only, Raymond de St. Gilles, Count of
Toulouse, obstinately refused the homage.
Their residence in Constantinople was productive of no good to the
armies of the Cross. Bickerings and contentions on the one hand, and
the influence of a depraved and luxurious court on the other, destroyed
the elasticity of their spirits, and cooled the first ardour of their
enthusiasm. At one time the army of the Count of Toulouse was on the
point of disbanding itself; and, had not their leader energetically
removed them across the Bosphorus, this would have been the result.
Once in Asia, their spirits in some degree revived, and the presence of
danger and difficulty nerved them to the work they had undertaken. The
first operation of the war was the siege of Nice, to gain possession of
which all their efforts were directed.
Godfrey of Bouillon and the Count of Vermandois were joined under its
walls by each host in succession, as it left Constantinople. Among the
celebrated crusaders who fought at this siege, we find, besides the
leaders already mentioned, the brave and generous Tancred, whose name
and fame have been immortalized in the Gerusalemme Liberata, the
valorous Bishop of Puy, Baldwin, afterwards King of Jerusalem, and
Peter the Hermit, now an almost solitary soldier, shorn of all the
power and influence he had formerly possessed. Kilij Aslaun, the Sultan
of Roum, and chief of the Seljukian Turks, whose deeds, surrounded by
the false halo of romance, are familiar to the readers of Tasso, under
the name of Soliman, marched to defend this city, but was defeated
after several obstinate engagements, in which the Christians showed a
degree of heroism that quite astonished him. The Turkish chief had
expected to find a wild undisciplined multitude, like that under Peter
the Hermit, without leaders capable of enforcing obedience; instead of
which he found the most experienced leaders of the age at the head of
armies that had just fanaticism enough to be ferocious, but not enough
to render them ungovernable. In these engagements, many hundreds fell
on both sides; and on both sides the most revolting barbarity was
practised: the crusaders cut off the heads of the fallen Mussulmans,
and sent them in paniers to Constantinople, as trophies of their
victory. After the temporary defeat of Kilij Aslaun, the siege of Nice
was carried on with redoubled vigour. The Turks defended themselves
with the greatest obstinacy, and discharged showers of poisoned arrows
upon the crusaders. When any unfortunate wretch was killed under the
walls, they let down iron hooks from above, and drew the body up,
which, after stripping and mutilating, they threw back again at the
besiegers. The latter were well supplied with provisions, and for
six-and-thirty days the siege continued without any relaxation of the
efforts on either side. Many tales are told of the almost superhuman
heroism of the Christian leaders--how one man put a thousand to flight;
and how the arrows of the faithful never missed their mark. One
anecdote of Godfrey of Bouillon, related by Albert of Aix, is worth
recording, not only as showing the high opinion entertained of his
valour, but as showing the contagious credulity of the armies--a
credulity which as often led them to the very verge of defeat, as it
incited them to victory. One Turk, of gigantic stature, took his
station day by day on the battlements of Nice, and, bearing an enormous
bow, committed great havoc among the Christian host. Not a shaft he
sped, but bore death upon its point; and, although the Crusaders aimed
repeatedly at his breast, and he stood in the most exposed position,
their arrows fell harmless at his feet. He seemed to be invulnerable to
attack; and a report was soon spread abroad, that he was no other than
the Arch Fiend himself, and that mortal hand could not prevail against
him. Godfrey of Bouillon, who had no faith in the supernatural
character of the Mussulman, determined, if possible, to put an end to
the dismay which was rapidly paralyzing the exertions of his best
soldiers. Taking a huge cross-bow, he stood forward in front of the
army, to try the steadiness of his hand against the much-dreaded
archer: the shaft was aimed directly at his heart, and took fatal
effect. The Moslem fell amid the groans of the besieged, and the shouts
of Deus adjuva! Deus adjuva! the war-cry of the besiegers.
At last the crusaders imagined that they had overcome all obstacles,
and were preparing to take possession of the city, when to their great
astonishment they saw the flag of the Emperor Alexius flying from the
battlements. An emissary of the Emperor, named Faticius or Tatin, had
contrived to gain admission with a body of Greek troops at a point
which the crusaders had left unprotected, and had persuaded the Turks
to surrender to him rather than to the crusading forces. The greatest
indignation prevailed in the army when this stratagem was discovered,
and the soldiers were, with the utmost difficulty, prevented from
renewing the attack and besieging the Greek emissary.