enemy on the banks of the Meander. The Turks contested the passage of
the river, but the French bribed a peasant to point out a ford lower
down: crossing the river without difficulty, they attacked the Turks
with much vigour, and put them to flight. Whether the Turks were really
defeated, or merely pretended to be so, is doubtful; but the latter
supposition seems to be the true one. It is probable that it was part
of a concerted plan to draw the invaders onwards to more unfavourable
ground, where their destruction might be more certain. If such were the
scheme, it succeeded to the heart's wish of its projectors. The
crusaders, on the third day after their victory, arrived at a steep
mountain-pass, on the summit of which the Turkish host lay concealed so
artfully, that not the slightest vestige of their presence could be
perceived. "With labouring steps and slow," they toiled up the steep
ascent, when suddenly a tremendous fragment of rock came bounding down
the precipices with an awful crash, bearing dismay and death before it.
At the same instant the Turkish archers started from their
hiding-places, and discharged a shower of arrows upon the foot
soldiers, who fell by hundreds at a time. The arrows rebounded
harmlessly against the iron mail of the knights, which the Turks
observing, took aim at their steeds, and horse and rider fell down the
steep into the rapid torrent which rushed below. Louis, who commanded
the rear-guard, received the first intimation of the onslaught from the
sight of his wounded and flying soldiers, and, not knowing the numbers
of the enemy, he pushed vigorously forward to stay, by his presence,
the panic which had taken possession of his army. All his efforts were
in vain. Immense stones continued to be hurled upon them as they
advanced, bearing men and horse before them; and those who succeeded in
forcing their way to the top, were met hand-to-hand by the Turks, and
cast down headlong upon their companions. Louis himself fought with the
energy of desperation, but had great difficulty to avoid falling into
the enemy's hands. He escaped at last under cover of the night, with
the remnant of his forces, and took up his position before Attalia.
Here he restored the discipline and the courage of his disorganized and
disheartened followers, and debated with his captains the plan that was
to be pursued. After suffering severely both from disease and famine,
it was resolved that they should march to Antioch, which still remained
an independent principality under the successors of Bohemund of
Tarentum. At this time the sovereignty was vested in the person of
Raymond, the uncle of Eleanor of Aquitaine. This Prince, presuming upon
his relationship to the French Queen, endeavoured to withdraw Louis
from the grand object of the Crusade--the defence of the kingdom of
Jerusalem, and secure his co-operation in extending the limits and the
power of his principality of Antioch. The Prince of Tripoli formed a
similar design, but Louis rejected the offers of both, and marched
after a short delay to Jerusalem. The Emperor Conrad was there before
him, having left Constantinople with promises of assistance from Manuel
Comnenus; assistance which never arrived, and was never intended.
A great council of the Christian princes of Palestine and the leaders
of the Crusade was then summoned, to discuss the future operations of
the war. It was ultimately determined that it would further the cause
of the Cross in a greater degree if the united armies, instead of
proceeding to Edessa, laid siege to the city of Damascus, and drove the
Saracens from that strong position. This was a bold scheme, and, had it
been boldly followed out, would have insured, in all probability, the
success of the war. But the Christian leaders never learned from
experience the necessity of union, that very soul of great enterprises.
Though they all agreed upon the policy of the plan, yet every one had
his own notions as to the means of executing it. The Princes of Antioch
and Tripoli were jealous of each other, and of the King of Jerusalem.
The Emperor Conrad was jealous of the King of France, and the King of
France was disgusted with them all. But he had come out to Palestine in
accordance with a solemn vow; his religion, though it may be called
bigotry, was sincere; and he determined to remain to the very last
moment that a chance was left, of effecting any good for the cause he
had set his heart on.
The siege of Damascus was accordingly commenced, and with so much
ability and vigour that the Christians gained a considerable advantage
at the very outset. For weeks the siege was pressed, till the shattered
fortifications and diminishing resistance of the besieged gave evidence
that the city could not hold out much longer. At that moment the insane
jealousy of the leaders led to dissensions that soon caused the utter
failure, not only of the siege, but of the Crusade. A modern
cookery-book, in giving a recipe for cooking a hare, says, "first catch
your hare, and then kill it;" a maxim of indisputable wisdom. The
Christian chiefs on this occasion had not so much sagacity, for they
began a violent dispute among themselves for the possession of a city
which was still unconquered. There being already a Prince of Antioch
and a Prince of Tripoli, twenty claimants started for the principality
of Damascus, and a grand council of the leaders was held to determine
the individual on whom the honour should devolve. Many valuable days
were wasted in this discussion, the enemy in the mean while gaining
strength from their inactivity. It was at length, after a stormy
deliberation, agreed that Count Robert of Flanders, who had twice
visited the Holy Land, should be invested with the dignity. The other
claimants refused to recognise him, or to co-operate in the siege,
until a more equitable arrangement had been made. Suspicion filled the
camp; the most sinister rumours of intrigues and treachery were set
afloat; and the discontented candidates withdrew at last to the other
side of the city, and commenced operations on their own account,
without a probability of success. They were soon joined by the rest of
the army. The consequence was that the weakest side of the city, and
that on which they had already made considerable progress in the work
of demolition, was left uncovered. The enemy was prompt to profit by
the mistake, and received an abundant supply of provisions, and
refortified the walls, before the crusaders came to their senses again.
When this desirable event happened, it was too late. Saph Eddin, the
powerful Emir of Mousoul, was in the neighbourhood, at the head of a
large army, advancing by forced marches to the relief of the city. The
siege was abruptly abandoned, and the foolish crusaders returned to
Jerusalem, having done nothing to weaken the enemy, but every thing to
weaken themselves.
The freshness of enthusiasm had now completely subsided;--even the
meanest soldiers were sick at heart. Conrad, from whose fierce zeal at
the outset so much might have been expected, was wearied with reverses,
and returned to Europe with the poor remnant of his host. Louis
lingered a short time longer, for very shame, but the pressing
solicitations of his minister Suger induced him to return to France.
Thus ended the second Crusade. Its history is but a chronicle of
defeats. It left the kingdom of Jerusalem in a worse state than when it
quitted Europe, and gained nothing but disgrace for its leaders and
discouragement for all concerned.
St. Bernard, who had prophesied a result so different, fell after this
into some disrepute, and experienced, like many other prophets, the
fate of being without honour in his own country. What made the matter
worse, he could not obtain it in any other. Still, however, there were
not wanting zealous advocates to stand forward in his behalf, and stem
the tide of incredulity, which, unopposed, would have carried away his
reputation. The Bishop of Freysinghen declared that prophets were not
always able to prophesy, and that the vices of the crusaders drew down
the wrath of Heaven upon them. But the most ingenious excuse ever made
for St. Bernard is to be found in his life by Geoffroi de Clairvaux,
where he pertinaciously insists that the Crusade was not unfortunate.
St. Bernard, he says, had prophesied a happy result, and that result
could not be considered other than happy which had peopled heaven with
so glorious an army of martyrs. Geoffroi was a cunning pleader, and, no
doubt, convinced a few of the zealous; but plain people, who were not
wanting even in those days, retained their own opinion, or, what
amounts to the same thing, "were convinced against their will."
We now come to the consideration of the third Crusade, and of the
causes which rendered it necessary. The epidemic frenzy, which had been
cooling ever since the issue of the first expedition, was now extinct,
or very nearly so, and the nations of Europe looked with cold
indifference upon the armaments of their princes. But chivalry had
flourished in its natural element of war, and was now in all its glory.
It continued to supply armies for the Holy Land when the popular ranks
refused to deliver up their able-bodied swarms. Poetry, which, more
than religion, inspired the third Crusade, was then but "caviare to the
million," who had other matters, of sterner import, to claim all their
attention. But the knights and their retainers listened with delight to
the martial and amatory strains of the minstrels, minnesangers,
trouveres, and troubadours, and burned to win favour in ladies' eyes by
showing prowess in Holy Land. The third was truly the romantic era of
the Crusades. Men fought then, not so much for the sepulchre of Jesus,
and the maintenance of a Christian kingdom in the East, as to gain
glory for themselves in the best, and almost only field, where glory
could be obtained. They fought, not as zealots, but as soldiers; not
for religion, but for honour; not for the crown of martyrdom, but for
the favour of the lovely.
It is not necessary to enter into a detail of the events by which
Saladin attained the sovereignty of the East, or how, after a
succession of engagements, he planted the Moslem banner once more upon
the battlements of Jerusalem. The Christian knights and population,
including the grand orders of St. John, the Hospitallers, and the
Templars, were sunk in an abyss of vice, and torn by unworthy
jealousies and dissensions, were unable to resist the well-trained
armies which the wise and mighty Saladin brought forward to crush them.
But the news of their fall created a painful sensation among the
chivalry of Europe, whose noblest members were linked to the dwellers
in Palestine by many ties, both of blood and friendship. The news of
the great battle of Tiberias, in which Saladin defeated the Christian
host with terrible slaughter, arrived first in Europe, and was followed
in quick succession by that of the capture of Jerusalem, Antioch,
Tripoli, and other cities. Dismay seized upon the clergy. The Pope
(Urban III.) was so affected by the news that he pined away for grief,
and was scarcely seen to smile again, until he sank into the sleep of
death. [James of Vitry--William de Nangis.] His successor, Gregory
VIII. felt the loss as acutely, but had better strength to bear it, and
instructed all the clergy of the Christian world to stir up the people
to arms for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre. William, Archbishop of
Tyre, a humble follower in the path of Peter the Hermit, left Palestine
to preach to the Kings of Europe the miseries he had witnessed, and to
incite them to the rescue. The renowned Frederick Barbarossa, the
Emperor of Germany, speedily collected an army, and passing over into
Syria with less delay than had ever before awaited a crusading force,
defeated the Saracens, and took possession of the city of Iconium. He
was unfortunately cut off in the middle of his successful career, by
imprudently bathing in the Cydnus [The desire of comparing two great
men has tempted many writers to drown Frederick in the river Cydnus, in
which Alexander so imprudently bathed (Q. Curt. lib. iii. c. 4, 5.):
but, from the march of the Emperor, I rather judge that his Saleph is
the Calycadnus, a stream of less fame, but of a longer course.--Gibbon]
while he was overheated, and the Duke of Suabia took the command of the
expedition. The latter did not prove so able a general, and met with
nothing but reverses, although he was enabled to maintain a footing at
Antioch until assistance arrived from Europe.
Henry II. of England and Philip Augustus of France, at the head of
their chivalry, supported the Crusade with all their influence, until
wars and dissensions nearer home estranged them from it for a time.
The two kings met at Gisors in Normandy in the month of January 1188,
accompanied by a brilliant train of knights and warriors. William of
Tyre was present, and expounded the cause of the Cross with
considerable eloquence, and the whole assembly bound themselves by oath
to proceed to Jerusalem. It was agreed at the same time that a tax,
called Saladin's tithe, and consisting of the tenth part of all
possessions, whether landed or personal, should be enforced over
Christendom, upon every one who was either unable or unwilling to
assume the Cross. The lord of every feof, whether lay or
ecclesiastical, was charged to raise the tithe within his own
jurisdiction; and any one who refused to pay his quota, became by that
act the bondsman and absolute property of his lord. At the same time
the greatest indulgence was shown to those who assumed the Cross; no
man was at liberty to stay them by process of any kind, whether for
debt, or robbery, or murder. The King of France, at the breaking up of
the conference, summoned a parliament at Paris, where these resolutions
were solemnly confirmed, while Henry II. did the same for his Norman
possessions at Rouen, and for England at Geddington, in
Northamptonshire. To use the words of an ancient chronicler, [Stowe.]
"he held a parliament about the voyage into the Holy Land, and troubled
the whole land with the paying of tithes towards it."
But it was not England only that was "troubled" by the tax. The people
of France also looked upon it with no pleasant feelings, and appear
from that time forth to have changed their indifference for the Crusade
into aversion. Even the clergy, who were exceedingly willing that other
people should contribute half, or even all their goods in furtherance
of their favourite scheme, were not at all anxious to contribute a
single sous themselves. Millot ["Elemens de l'Histoire de France."]
relates that several of them cried out against the impost. Among the
rest the clergy of Rheims were called upon to pay their quota, but sent
a deputation to the King, begging him to be contented with the aid of
their prayers, as they were too poor to contribute in any other shape.
Philip Augustus knew better, and by way of giving them a lesson,
employed three nobles of the vicinity to lay waste the church lands.
The clergy, informed of the outrage, applied to the King for redress.
"I will aid you with my prayers," said the Monarch condescendingly,
"and will intreat those gentlemen to let the church alone." He did as
he had promised, but in such a manner, that the nobles, who appreciated
the joke, continued their devastations as before. Again the clergy
applied to the King. "What would you have of me?" he replied, in answer
to their remonstrances: "You gave me your prayers in my necessity, and
I have given you mine in yours." The clergy understood the argument,
and thought it the wiser course to pay their quota of Saladin's tithe
without further parley.
This anecdote shows the unpopularity of the Crusade. If the clergy
disliked to contribute, it is no wonder that the people felt still
greater antipathy. But the chivalry of Europe was eager for the affray:
the tithe was rigorously collected, and armies from England, France,
Burgundy, Italy, Flanders, and Germany, were soon in the field; The two
kings who were to have led it, were, however, drawn into broils by an
aggression of Richard; Duke of Guienne, better known as Richard Coeur
de Lion, upon the territory of the Count of Toulouse, and the proposed
journey to Palestine was delayed. War continued to rage between France
and England, and with so little probability of a speedy termination,
that many of the nobles, bound to the Crusade, left the two Monarchs to
settle their differences at their leisure, and proceeded to Palestine
without them.
Death at last stepped in and removed Henry II. from the hostility of
his foes, and the treachery and ingratitude of his children. His son
Richard immediately concluded an alliance with Philip Augustus, and the
two young, valiant, and impetuous Monarchs, united all their energies
to forward the Crusade. They met with a numerous and brilliant retinue
at Nonancourt in Normandy, where, in sight of their assembled chivalry,
they embraced as brothers, and swore to live as friends and true
allies, until a period of forty days after their return from the Holy
Land. With a view of purging their camp from the follies and vices
which had proved so ruinous to preceding expeditions, they drew up a
code of laws for the government of the army. Gambling had been carried
to a great extent, and had proved the fruitful source of quarrels and
bloodshed, and one of their laws prohibited any person in the army,
beneath the degree of a knight, from playing at any game for money.
[Strutt's "Sports and Pastimes."] Knights and clergymen might play for
money, but no one was permitted to lose or gain more than twenty
shillings in a day, under a penalty of one hundred shillings. The
personal attendants of the Monarchs were also allowed to play to the
same extent. The penalty in their case for infraction was that they
should be whipped naked through the army for the space of three days.
Any crusader, who struck another and drew blood, was ordered to have
his hand cut off; and whoever slew a brother crusader was condemned to
be tied alive to the corpse of his victim and buried with him. No young
women were allowed to follow the army, to the great sorrow of many
vicious and of many virtuous dames, who had not courage to elude the
decree by dressing in male attire. But many high-minded and
affectionate maidens and matrons, bearing the sword or the spear,
followed their husbands and lovers to the war in spite of King Richard,
and in defiance of danger. The only women allowed to accompany the army
in their own habiliments, were washerwomen, of fifty years complete,
and any others of the fair sex who had reached the same age.
These rules having been promulgated, the two monarchs marched together
to Lyons, where they separated, agreeing to meet again at Messina.
Philip proceeded across the Alps to Genoa, where he took ship, and was
conveyed in safety to the place of rendezvous. Richard turned in the
direction of Marseilles, where he also took ship for Messina. His
impetuous disposition hurried him into many squabbles by the way, and
his knights and followers, for the most part as brave and as foolish as
himself, imitated him very zealously in this particular. At Messina
the Sicilians charged the most exorbitant prices for every necessary of
life. Richard's army in vain remonstrated. From words they came to
blows, and, as a last resource, plundered the Sicilians, since they
could not trade with them. Continual battles were the consequence, in
one of which Lebrun, the favourite attendant of Richard, lost his life.
The peasantry from far and near came flocking to the aid of the
townspeople, and the battle soon became general. Richard, irritated at
the loss of his favourite, and incited by a report that Tancred, the
King of Sicily, was fighting at the head of his own people, joined the
melee with his boldest knights, and, beating back the Sicilians,
attacked the city, sword in hand, stormed the battlements, tore down
the flag of Sicily, and planted his own in its stead. This collision
gave great offence to the King of France, who became from that time
jealous of Richard, and apprehensive that his design was not so much to
re-establish the Christian Kingdom of Jerusalem, as to make conquests
for himself. He, however, exerted his influence to restore peace
between the English and Sicilians, and shortly afterwards set sail for
Acre, with distrust of his ally germinating in his heart.
Richard remained behind for some weeks, in a state of inactivity quite
unaccountable in one of his temperament. He appears to have had no more
squabbles with the Sicilians, but to have lived an easy luxurious life,
forgetting, in the lap of pleasure, the objects for which he had
quitted his own dominions and the dangerous laxity he was introducing
into his army. The superstition of his soldiers recalled him at length
to a sense of his duty: a comet was seen for several successive nights,
which was thought to menace them with the vengeance of Heaven for their
delay. Shooting stars gave them similar warning; and a fanatic, of the
name of Joachim, with his drawn sword in his hand, and his long hair
streaming wildly over his shoulders, went through the camp, howling all
night long, and predicting plague, famine, and every other calamity, if
they did not set out immediately. Richard did not deem it prudent to
neglect the intimations; and, after doing humble penance for his
remissness, he set sail for Acre.
A violent storm dispersed his fleet, but he arrived safely at Rhodes
with the principal part of the armament. Here he learned that three of
his ships had been stranded on the rocky coasts of Cyprus, and that the
ruler of the island, Isaac Comnenus, had permitted his people to
pillage the unfortunate crews, and had refused shelter to his betrothed
bride, the Princess Berengaria, and his sister, who, in one of the
vessels, had been driven by stress of weather into the port of Limisso.
The fiery monarch swore to be revenged, and, collecting all his
vessels, sailed back to Limisso. Isaac Comnenus refused to apologize or
explain, and Richard, in no mood to be trifled with, landed on the
island, routed with great loss the forces sent to oppose him, and laid
the whole country under contribution.
On his arrival at Acre, he found the whole of the chivalry of Europe
there before him. Guy of Lusignan, the King of Jerusalem, had long
before collected the bold Knights of the Temple, the Hospital, and St.
John, and had laid siege to Acre, which was resolutely defended by the
Sultan Saladin, with an army magnificent both for its numbers and its
discipline. For nearly two years the crusaders had pushed the siege,
and made efforts almost superhuman to dislodge the enemy. Various
battles had taken place in the open fields with no decisive advantage
to either party, and Guy of Lusignan had begun to despair of taking
that strong position without aid from Europe. His joy was extreme on
the arrival of Philip with all his chivalry, and he only awaited the
coming of Coeur de Lion to make one last decisive attack upon the town.
When the fleet of England was first seen approaching the shores of
Syria, a universal shout arose from the Christian camp; and when
Richard landed with his train, one louder still pierced to the very
mountains of the south, where Saladin lay with all his army.
It may be remarked as characteristic of this Crusade, that the
Christians and the Moslems no longer looked upon each other as
barbarians, to whom mercy was a crime. Each host entertained the
highest admiration for the bravery and magnanimity of the other, and in
their occasional truces met upon the most friendly terms. The Moslem
warriors were full of courtesy to the Christian knights, and had no
other regret than to think that such fine fellows were not Mahomedans.
The Christians, with a feeling precisely similar, extolled to the skies
the nobleness of the Saracens, and sighed to think that such generosity
and valour should be sullied by disbelief in the Gospel of Jesus. But
when the strife began, all these feelings disappeared, and the struggle
became mortal.
The jealousy excited in the mind of Philip by the events of Messina
still rankled, and the two monarchs refused to act in concert. Instead
of making a joint attack upon the town, the French monarch assailed it
alone, and was repulsed. Richard did the same, and with the same
result. Philip tried to seduce the soldiers of Richard from their
allegiance by the offer of three gold pieces per month to every knight
who would forsake the banners of England for those of France. Richard
met the bribe by another, and promised four pieces to every French
knight who should join the Lion of England. In this unworthy rivalry
their time was wasted, to the great detriment of the discipline and
efficiency of their followers. Some good was nevertheless effected; for
the mere presence of two such armies prevented the besieged city from
receiving supplies, and the inhabitants were reduced by famine to the
most woeful straits. Saladin did not deem it prudent to risk a general
engagement by coming to their relief, but preferred to wait till
dissension had weakened his enemy, and made him an easy prey. Perhaps
if he had been aware of the real extent of the extremity in Acre, he
would have changed his plan; but, cut off from the town, he did not
know their misery till it was too late. After a short truce the city
capitulated upon terms so severe that Saladin afterwards refused to
ratify them. The chief conditions were, that the precious wood of the
true cross, captured by the Moslems in Jerusalem, should be restored;
that a sum of two hundred thousand gold pieces should be paid; and that
all the Christian prisoners in Acre should be released, together with
two hundred knights and a thousand soldiers, detained in captivity by
Saladin. The eastern monarch, as may be well conceived, did not set
much store on the wood of the cross, but was nevertheless anxious to
keep it, as he knew its possession by the Christians would do more than
a victory to restore their courage. He refused, therefore, to deliver
it up, or to accede to any of the conditions; and Richard, as he had
previously threatened, barbarously ordered all the Saracen prisoners in
his power to be put to death.