The Holy City is won
_Jerusalem, through the clear atmosphere, rising out of the deep
umbrageous valleys which surround it, is reflected in a fiery splendour
in the morning sunlight_. FARRAR: _Life of Christ_.
_Our feet shall stand within thy gates, O Jerusalem!_
PSALM cxxii.
It was with high hearts that the remnant of the crusading host, now
much reduced, took the road to the Holy City, the end of all their
endeavours. With little difficulty they made their way along the
smiling plain of the River Orontes, and then keeping close to the coast
line between the mountains of Libanus and the sea, passed through the
famous cities of Tyre, Sidon, and Joppa.
From the last of these they turned inland, and taking possession of the
little town of Ramleh, supposed to be the burial place of St George,
the patron saint of England, the leaders held a council to consider
their next movements.
Those who cared most for the mere worldly success of the undertaking
were now strongly of opinion that they should leave Jerusalem untouched
for the present, and attack the true centres of the power of Islam,
Babylon and Alexandria. Others reminded these men of the real object
of the Crusades, and asked scoffingly how they {95} hoped to seize
great and populous cities if they could not first capture the little
town of Jerusalem. The worldly-minded gave way, but consoled
themselves by capturing villages and farms on the route of march. The
rest, more serious minded, "set their faces steadfastly to go towards
Jerusalem." "And those to whom the Lord's command was dearer than lust
of gain, advanced with naked feet, sighing heavily for the disdain that
the others showed for the Lord's command."
Whilst resting at Emmaus at nightfall of June 6, 1099, a little band of
Christians living at Bethlehem crept into the camp and told the leaders
a doleful story of the cruelty and oppression of Islam. The
information that the birthplace of the Lord was near at hand quickened
every pulse. Sleep was forgotten, and a hurried march begun which
brought them in a few hours to the top of Mount Mizpeh, whence, with
swelling hearts, they watched the sun rise upon the sacred walls of the
Holy City.
"Jerusalem! Jerusalem!"
The cry, restrained and reverent, filled the morning air, as the great
host fell prostrate and kissed the hallowed soil.
By its natural position the city was exceedingly difficult to take by
assault, for it stood upon a rocky plateau, guarded by the two steep
valleys of Kedron and Hinnon.
It was, moreover, defended by about forty thousand picked Saracen
warriors--a band equal in number to that of the besiegers, but
possessing far greater advantages as to position and supplies.
With the utmost confidence, however, the Crusaders took up their posts.
Robert of Normandy being {96} stationed on the north, Godfrey of
Bouillon and Tancred on the west, while Count Raymond advanced to Mount
Sion on the south.
It was clear from the first assault that they had undertaken no light
task, and meantime the usual horrors of famine and thirst made their
appearance in the camp. There was little shade in that region; the
groves around had been cut down to provide wood for the "machines of
war," and the chief water supply--a spring which bubbled up every other
day--was soon choked by the corpses of men and beasts who had trodden
one another down in the wild attempt to obtain drink.
The springs further off had all been poisoned by the Saracens, and when
the supplies of fruit began to fail, it seemed as though the army would
never possess the strength to attack the city again.
A still worse calamity was the quarrelling which now broke out again
among the leaders. Tancred was bitterly censured for having set up his
banner over the Church of the Nativity at Bethlehem, Raymond for having
taken to himself the post of honour on the sacred Mount of Sion. The
rank and file, following the example of their chiefs, gave themselves
over to laxity, disobedience, and personal feuds.
Once again it was necessary to invigorate the faith of the Crusaders,
and accordingly Peter the Hermit declared that the dead Adhemar had
appeared to him with words of severe rebuke for the sins of the camp,
and the promise that the city should fall if the army would march
barefoot round it for the space of nine days. A council was summoned,
at which the noble Tancred was the first to make up a long-standing
quarrel with Count Raymond; a feeling of good-will and reconciliation
was spread {97} abroad; and it was determined to make a fresh attempt
in a spirit of more fervid religious zeal.
On the 12th of July 1099, while the Saracens were setting up crucifixes
upon the ramparts, and insulting their Christian foes by spitting and
throwing mud upon them, a solemn procession, fully armed, singing
psalms and litanies, made its way around the walls; and a sermon
preached from the Mount of Olives by Arnulf, the future Bishop of
Jerusalem, roused even the most despondent to do his best for the cause
of God.
On the next two days, Wednesday and Thursday, assaults were made, but
without much success. On the Friday the Crusaders, having been
reminded that it was the day of the Lord's Passion and Death, came to
the work with new vigour, "even the women and the children," writes the
historian, "were eager to do their part on that field."
But when Count Raymond fought on the south of the city it seemed as
though success was hopeless. His wooden tower, which protected the
archers, was burnt by the throwing of flaming oil from the walls, and
his men were driven into utter confusion. Suddenly, when retreat
seemed inevitable, a marvellous portent was seen. On the Mount of
Olives, on the further side of the city, appeared a knight in
glittering armour, waving a flaming sword over Jerusalem. The rumour
quickly spread that it was St George come to the aid of the Crusaders.
"Deus vult! Deus vult!" they shouted, and in the vigour of their
assault the outer wall was won.
The explanation of the occurrence was soon clear. At the further side
of the city the stone-slingers of Godfrey of Boulogne had at length
driven the Saracens from the {98} ramparts. Seizing and lowering the
drawbridge, and scrambling up the walls by scaling ladders, the Teuton
host, headed by Bernard of St Valery, leapt upon the battlements. A
certain unknown knight waved his sword in signal of victory from the
top of Mount Olives, and this had been the sign which put new heart
into Count Raymond's men.
At the very hour at which their Saviour breathed His dying words upon
the Cross, the red-cross standard was first seen to float over the
walls of the Holy City.
From the horrors of bloodshed that followed the capture of Jerusalem we
can but turn away in disgust.
"Such a slaughter of pagan folk had never been seen or heard of; none
know their number save God alone."
This wanton cruelty can indeed only be excused when we remember that it
was the firm belief of those days that "whosoever killeth an infidel
doeth God service."
After that scene of slaughter and violence the leaders of the Crusaders
walked, bareheaded and barefooted, dressed in long white mantles marked
with the red cross, to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre to offer thanks
for their success. Amongst them stood Peter the Hermit, the real
moving spirit of the Crusade, in spite of his mistaken zeal as a leader
of men.
It is said that many of the Christian inhabitants of the city
recognised him as the unknown pilgrim who had promised to rouse on
their behalf the nations of the west, and they clung to his raiment
with tears of gratitude. It is the last glimpse we have of that
enthusiastic personality, and we may be content to leave him there, at
the moment when his great aim had been accomplished.
[Illustration: _The Storming of Jerusalem_]
A week later a meeting of the chieftains was called to elect a king of
Jerusalem. None were eager to obtain a {101} post of honour so
difficult to maintain, and most were anxious to return to their own
dominions. The crown was first offered to Robert of Normandy, who,
"impelled by sloth or fear, refused it, and so aspersed his nobility
with an indelible stain." So writes an English chronicler of his day,
but it must be said in Robert's defence that, even as it was, he had
tarried too long to make good his claim to the kingdom of England
against his grasping brother Henry, and that his fair dukedom of
Normandy stood in immediate peril from the same cause.
Finally, by universal consent, the crown fell to the lot of Godfrey of
Boulogne, in many respects the noblest Crusader of them all. But he,
with characteristic modesty, refused to wear a crown of gold in the
place where his Lord had worn a crown of thorns, and so he was known
only by the title of the Defender of the Holy Sepulchre. Some say that
Count Raymond had previously been offered the position of king, and had
refused to take it, hoping possibly that he might obtain the honour
without the full responsibility. However this might be, we find him,
on Godfrey's acceptance, sulkily retiring to the Tower of David, which
stronghold had been seized from the Saracens by his men. At first he
refused to give it up, and when forced to do so, declared with childish
fury that he would go home at once.
Suddenly the intelligence that a vast army of Egyptians had gathered at
Ascalon recalled men from such foolish bickerings, and united them once
more for a time against the common foe. Although outnumbered by ten to
one, the Crusaders were again victorious, for the enemy, according to
the account of an eye-witness, seemed paralysed at the very sight of
the Christians, "not daring to rise up against us." But this victory
only served to {102} fan the flame of the constant feud between Godfrey
and Raymond. The latter had calmly accepted the allegiance of the
people of Ascalon on his own responsibility. Godfrey naturally claimed
the city as part of the kingdom of Jerusalem. Rumour accuses Raymond
of having given back the town to the Egyptians rather than let it pass
into the hands of Godfrey. He was scarcely pacified with the
governorship of Laodicea, which was handed over to him when the other
chieftains returned to Europe. Of those who had so gallantly turned
their faces towards the East, Godfrey and Tancred remained in
Jerusalem, Bohemond was ruler of Antioch, Baldwin of Edessa, Raymond of
Laodicea.
The reign of Godfrey, first King of Jerusalem in all but name, lasted
for barely one year. Gentlest of all the Crusaders, save where the
"infidels" were concerned, and noblest of the knights of the chivalry
of his age, he lived long enough to win the respect, if not the
affection, of even the Moslem population of his kingdom, and to settle
the latter upon a system scarcely differing from that of a feudal
over-lordship in France or England.
His end came after an expedition undertaken to aid Tancred further up
the coast. As he returned, he ate some fruit at Jaffa sent him by the
Saracen ruler of Cæsarea. Immediately afterwards he was seized by
sickness, and a rumour went round that the fruit had been poisoned.
His one anxiety was now to return to the Holy City he had loved, and
for which he had fought so well; and there he breathed his last in the
July of 1100, and was laid to rest in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
In spite of all the intrigues of the partisans of Bohemond, the
ambitious ruler of Antioch, the followers {103} of the late king would
have none but Baldwin, his brother, as his successor. The latter,
therefore, was brought from Edessa, and became the first king, in name
as well as in deed, of the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem.
Let us now glance for a moment at the fate of some of those whose
fortunes we have so far followed.
You will remember that among those who turned recreant before the siege
of Antioch was Stephen of Blois, son-in-law of the Conqueror. When he
returned to his wife Adela, she, with the blood of her father hot in
her veins, bade him return and fulfil his oath. About the same time
that he again turned his face to the East, a crowd of unruly Lombards,
more eager for mere adventure than for the cause of God, set out for
the Holy Land, and after a riotous sojourn at Constantinople, crossed
the Bosphorus. There they were joined by Count Stephen, who begged the
Emperor Alexios to furnish them with a guide to Jerusalem. The latter
at once offered them Count Raymond, of stormy memory, who was staying
at Constantinople at the time. With him came the news that Bohemond of
Antioch, over confident, had fallen into an ambush whilst on a foraging
expedition, and was a prisoner in the hands of the Saracens.
Association with Raymond for however brief a period most assuredly
resulted in a quarrel, and consequently there was a sharp difference of
opinion as to the most advantageous route.
The Lombards would go across Asia Minor, rescue Bohemond, and possibly
attack Bagdad, the centre of Moslem rule; whilst Count Stephen wished
to follow the original road by way of Antioch.
Raymond elected to side with the latter, and together {104} they set
off upon a journey in which they were harassed hour by hour by their
foes. The Lombards left without a guide, decided to follow in the
rear, and had decidedly the worst of it, many of them being cut down by
the Turks, who lay in ambush along the road. An engagement with the
latter went against the Christians, a panic ensued, and, in the midst
of the confusion, Raymond and his men rode off, and returned by sea to
Constantinople, leaving his companions to their fate. With the utmost
difficulty the remnant of the followers of the unfortunate Stephen made
their way in the same direction.
After the usual recriminations were over, Count Raymond found himself
next involved with Duke William of Aquitaine, who, with a great rabble
of followers, had been stirred up by the news of the taking of
Jerusalem, to seek high adventure in that quarter for himself. Other
smaller expeditions followed, and setting off from Constantinople, fell
straight into the hands of the Turks, who beset the track to the Holy
Land. Of all these so-called Crusaders, barely one thousand survived
to reach Antioch in the spring of 1102, and to make their way to
Jerusalem.
Meantime Count Bohemond, having escaped from his two years' captivity,
had not only resumed his position at Antioch, but had seized upon
Raymond's territory of Laodicea as well. He was now the open and
declared foe of Alexios of Constantinople, who had done his best to get
the count into his hands by paying a huge ransom--a ransom which
Bohemond himself had outbidden, and so won his freedom. Leaving
Tancred to rule for him in Antioch, Bohemond now sailed to France,
married the daughter of Philip I., with whose assistance he {105}
invaded the territory of the Emperor with a large army. Alexios, as
usual, gave in and bribed him into a pretence of alliance, but a year
later, when Bohemond had returned to Italy to gather fresh forces,
death put an end to his fiery hopes and ambitions.
Meanwhile, when Bohemond on his escape was once more ruler of Antioch,
Raymond, driven from Laodicea, had, as we have seen, joined the
so-called "Aquitainian Crusade" for a time, and then set himself to win
new territory by besieging the town of Tripoli. It is much to his
credit that though, as his historian puts it, "he might have lived in
abundance in his own land," he never ceased to fight while there was
land to be won for Christendom. It is difficult, however, to avoid the
suspicion that he was largely influenced by desire to serve his own
personal ambitious ends. With but three hundred companions, Raymond
attempted to carry on the siege of Tripoli; and there, an old and
worn-out man, he died by the shores on which he had fought for the past
six years.
The unfortunate Stephen of Blois had, meanwhile, wiped off the stain of
desertion by his death in battle on the side of King Baldwin, against
the Saracens; and Tancred, after holding Antioch for three years
subsequent to the death of Bohemond, as regent for his little son, died
of a wound received in a conflict with the Moslem foe.
Thus, by the year 1112, the only survivor in the East of that gallant
band of crusading chieftains was Baldwin, brother of Godfrey, now King
of Jerusalem.
In his reign were firmly established those great Orders of Knighthood,
the Knights Templars and the Hospitallers, and the whole "Kingdom of
Jerusalem" {106} was settled upon a stronger basis--a strength,
however, which was more apparent than real. Baldwin was a wise and
skilful ruler, showing little of that mean and treacherous spirit which
had distinguished his earlier career. He died in 1118, after a reign
of seventeen years.
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