Chapter XVII: Book III: A.d. 1097-1099 (2)

When he had finished these words, Bohemond showed the letters of Phirous, who promised to give up the three towers which he commanded. Phirous said that he was ready to perform this promise, but he declared he would have nothing to do with any one but the prince of Tarentum. He required, as the price of his services, that Bohemond should remain master of Antioch. The Italian prince added that he had already given considerable sums to Phirous; that he alone had obtained his confidence, and that a reciprocal confidence was the surest guarantee of the success of so difficult an enterprise. “As for the rest,” continued he, “if a better means of saving the army can be found, I am ready to approve of it, and willingly renounce my share in a conquest upon which the safety of all the Crusaders depends.”

The danger became every day more pressing; it was shameful to fly, imprudent to fight, and dangerous to temporize. Fear silenced all interests and all rivalry. The more opposition the leaders had shown at first to the project of Bohemond, the more eagerly did they now produce cogent reasons for adopting it. A divided conquest became no longer a conquest. To divide or share Antioch might give birth to a crowd of divisions in the army, and lead to its ruin. They only gave that which was really not yet their own; and they gave it to secure the lives of the Christians. It were better that one man should profit by the labours of all, than that all should perish for opposing the good fortunes of that one. Moreover, the taking of Antioch was not the object of the crusade—they had taken up arms to deliver Jerusalem. Every delay was opposed to that which religion looked for from its soldiers, to that which the West expected from its bravest knights. All the leaders, with the exception of the inflexible Raymond, united in according the principality of Antioch to Bohemond, and conjured him to hasten the execution of his project.

Upon leaving the council, the prince of Tarentum sent information of the resolution of the leaders to Phirous, who placed his own son in the prince’s hands as a hostage. The execution of the plan was fixed for the next day. To lull the garrison of Antioch in the greatest security, it was agreed that the Christian army should quit the camp, and direct its march at first towards the route by which the prince of Mossoul was expected to arrive, and that at nightfall it should meet under the walls of Ascalon. On the following day, early in the morning, the troops received orders to prepare for their departure. At some hours before night the Crusaders issued from their camp, and marched away, trumpets sounding and standards flying. After a march of a short distance, they retraced their steps, and returned in silence under the walls of Antioch. At a signal given by the prince of Tarentum, they halted in a valley on the west, and near to the tower of the Three Sisters, in which Phirous commanded. It was there that the leaders revealed to the army the secret of the great expedition which was to open to them the gates of the city.

The projects of Phirous and Bohemond, however, were very near failing. At the moment that the Christian army quitted their camp, and all was prepared for carrying out the plot, a report of treason all at once was spread throughout Antioch. The Christians and newly-converted Mussulmans were suspected; the name of Phirous even was whispered, and he was accused of keeping up an intelligence with the Crusaders. He was obliged to appear before Accien, who interrogated him closely, and fixed his eyes intently upon him in order to penetrate his thoughts; but Phirous dispersed all his suspicions by his firm countenance. He himself proposed the proper measures to be taken against the traitors, and advised his master to change the commanders of the principal towers. This advice was approved of, and Accien determined to follow it on the morrow. In the mean time orders were given to load with chains and put to death, during the darkness of the night, all the Christians that should be found in the city. The renegade was then sent back to his post, loaded with praises for his carefulness and fidelity. At the approach of night everything appeared tranquil in Antioch, and Phirous, escaped from such threatening danger, awaited the Crusaders in the tower which he had agreed to surrender to them.

As his brother commanded a tower near his own, Phirous went to find him, and sought to engage him in the plot. “Brother,” said he to him, “you know that the Crusaders have quitted their camp, and that they are gone to meet the army of Kerboghâ. When I think of the miseries they have endured, and on the death which threatens them, I cannot help feeling a sort of pity for them. You are not ignorant, likewise, that this night all the Christian inhabitants of Antioch, after having undergone so many outrages, are going to be massacred by the orders of Accien. I cannot help pitying them; I cannot forget that we were born in the same religion, and that we were formerly brothers.” These words did not produce the effect he expected. “I am surprised,” replied his brother, “that you should pity men who ought to be objects of horror to us. Before the Christians appeared under the walls of Antioch, we were loaded with benefits. Since they have besieged the city, we have passed our lives in dangers and alarms. May all the evils they have brought upon us recoil upon them! As to the Christians who live amongst us, do you not know that the greater part of them are traitors, and that they think of nothing but delivering us up to the sword of our enemies?” On finishing these words, he cast a threatening look upon Phirous. The renegade saw that he was suspected. He could not acknowledge a brother in the man who refused to be his accomplice, and as his only answer, plunged his dagger into his heart.

At length the decisive moment arrived. The night was dark, and a rising storm increased the depth of the obscurity. The wind, which rattled among the roofs of the buildings, and the peals of thunder, prevented the sentinels from hearing any noise around the ramparts. The heavens seemed inflamed towards the west, and the sight of a comet which then appeared in the horizon, seemed to announce to the superstitious minds of the Crusaders the destined moment for the ruin and destruction of the infidels.[114]

They awaited the signal with impatience. The garrison of Antioch was plunged in sleep; Phirous alone watched, and meditated his conspiracy. A Lombard named _Payen_, sent by Bohemond, mounted the tower by a ladder of leather. Phirous received him, telling him all was ready; and as an evidence of his fidelity, pointed to the dead body of his brother, whom he had just slain. Whilst they were conversing, an officer of the garrison came to visit the posts. He presented himself, with a lantern in his hand, before the tower Phirous commanded. The latter, without appearing the least disturbed, made the emissary of Bohemond conceal himself, and went forward to meet the officer. After receiving praise for his vigilance, he hastened to send Payen back with instructions for the prince of Tarentum. The Lombard, on his return to the army, related what he had seen, and, on the part of Phirous, conjured Bohemond not to lose another moment.

But all at once fear took possession of the soldiers; at the moment of execution all saw the whole extent of the danger, and not one of them put himself forward to mount the rampart. In vain Godfrey and the prince of Tarentum employed by turns promises and threats; both leaders and soldiers remained motionless.[115] Bohemond himself ascended by a ladder of ropes, in the hope that he should be seconded by the most brave; but nobody felt it his duty to follow in his footsteps. He reached the tower alone, where Phirous reproached him warmly for his delay. Bohemond hastily descended to his soldiers, and repeated to them that all was ready to receive them. His discourse, and still more, his example, at length reanimated their courage, and sixty of them commenced the escalade. They ascended by the ladder of leather, led on by one Foulcher de Chartres, whom the historian of Tancred compares to an eagle conducting her young ones, and flying at their head.[116] Among these sixty brave men was the count of Flanders, together with several of the principal chiefs. Very soon sixty more Crusaders quickly pressed upon the heels of the first,[117] and these again were followed by such numbers and with such precipitation, that the parapet to which the ladder was fixed tottered, and at length fell with a loud crash into the ditch. Such as were nearly attaining the summit of the tower fell upon the lances and swords of their companions who were following them. Disorder and confusion prevailed among the assailants, nevertheless the leaders of the plot viewed everything with a tranquil eye. Phirous embraced his new companions over the bloody corpse of his brother; he even yielded to their swords another brother who happened to be with him, and then surrendered to the Crusaders the three towers intrusted to his command. Seven other towers soon fell into their hands, and Phirous loudly summoned the whole Christian army to his aid. He fixed a new ladder to the rampart, by which the most impatient ascended, and he pointed out to others a gate which they might easily burst open, and by it crowds rushed into the city.

Godfrey, Raymond, and the duke of Normandy were soon in the streets of Antioch at the head of their battalions. All the trumpets were sounded, and from the four hills the city resounded with the terrible cry of “_It is the will of God! It is the will of God!_” At the first report of the tumult, the Christians dwelling in Antioch all believed that their last hour was come, and that the Mussulmans were about to sacrifice them. The latter, half asleep, poured out of their houses to ascertain the cause of the noise they heard, and died without knowing who were the traitors, or by whose hands they were slain. Some, when aware of the danger, fled towards the mountain upon which the citadel was built, whilst others rushed out at the gates of the city. All who could not fly fell beneath the swords of the conquerors.

In the midst of this bloody victory, Bohemond did not neglect taking formal possession of Antioch, and at dawn his red standard was seen floating over one of the highest towers of the city. At the sight of this the Crusaders who were left in charge of the camp broke into loud acclamations of joy, and hastened to take a part in this fresh conquest of the Christians. The slaughter of the Mussulmans was continued with unabated fury. The greater part of the Christians of Antioch, who, during the siege, had suffered much from the tyranny of the infidels, joined their liberators, several exhibiting the fetters by which they had been loaded by the Turks, and thus further provoking the vindictive spirit of the victorious army. The public places were covered with dead bodies, and blood flowed in torrents in the streets. The soldiers penetrated into the houses; religious emblems pointed out such as were Christians, sacred hymns indicated their brethren; but everything that was not marked with a cross became the object of vengeance, and all who pronounced not the name of Christ were massacred without mercy.

In a single night more than six thousand of the inhabitants of Antioch perished. Many of those who had fled into the neighbouring fields were pursued and brought back into the city, where they found either slavery or death. In the first moments of the confusion, Accien, seeing that he was betrayed, and no longer daring to trust any of his officers, resolved to fly towards Mesopotamia, and go to meet the army of Kerboghâ. Escaping through one of the gates, he proceeded without an escort over mountains and through forests, till he fell in with some Armenian woodcutters. These men at once recognised the prince of Antioch, and as he bore upon his countenance marks of depression and grief, they judged that the city must be taken. One of them, drawing near to him, snatched his sword from him, and plunged it into his body. His head was carried to the new masters of Antioch, and Phirous had an opportunity of contemplating without fear the features of him who, the day before, might have sentenced him to death. After having received great riches as the reward of his treachery, this renegade embraced the Christianity he had abandoned, and followed the Crusaders to Jerusalem. Two years afterwards, his ambition not being satisfied, he returned to the religion of Mahomet, and died abhorred by both Mussulmans and Christians, whose cause he had by turns embraced and betrayed.

When the Christians were tired of slaughter, they prepared to attack the citadel; but as it was built upon a mountain, inaccessible on most sides, all their efforts were useless. They contented themselves with surrounding it with soldiers and machines of war, in order to confine the garrison, and then spread themselves throughout the city, giving way to all the intoxication which their victory inspired. The pillage of Antioch had yielded them immense riches; and although they had found but a small stock of provisions, they abandoned themselves to the most extravagant excesses of intemperance and debauchery.

These events passed in the early days of June, 1098; the siege of Antioch had been begun in the month of October of the preceding year. After this victory, three days passed quickly away in the midst of rejoicings, but the fourth was a day of fear and mourning.

A formidable army of Saracens was drawing near to Antioch. From the earliest period of the siege, Accien, and the sultan of Nice, whom the Christians had despoiled of his dominions, had applied to all the Mussulman powers to procure assistance against the warriors of the West. The supreme head of the Seljoucides, the sultan of Persia, had promised to aid them; and at his voice all Corassan, says Matthew of Edessa, Media, Babylon, a part of Asia Minor, and all the East, from Damascus and the sea-coast to Jerusalem and Arabia, had arisen at once to attack the Christians.[118] Kerboghâ, sultan of Mossoul, commanded this army of the Mussulmans. This warrior had fought for a length of time, at one period for the sultan of Persia ’Barkiarok), at others for the various princes of the family of Malek-Scha, who contended for the empire. Often defeated, and twice a prisoner, he had grown old amidst the tumults of civil war. As full of contempt for the Christians as of confidence in himself, a true model of the fierce Circassian celebrated by Tasso, he considered himself the liberator of Asia, and traversed Mesopotamia with all the pomp and splendour of a conqueror. The sultans of Nice, Aleppo, and Damascus, with the governor of Jerusalem and twenty-eight emirs from Persia, Palestine, and Syria, marched under his command. The Mussulman soldiers were animated by a thirst for vengeance, and swore by their prophet to exterminate all the Christians. On the third day after the taking of Antioch, the army of Kerboghâ pitched its tents on the banks of the Orontes.

The Christians were made aware of its arrival by a detachment of three hundred horsemen, who came to reconnoitre the place, and advanced even under the walls. Inquietude and alarm succeeded immediately to festivity and rejoicing. They found that they had not stores to sustain a siege; and several of their leaders were sent with their troops towards the port of St. Simeon, and into the neighbouring country, to collect all the provisions they could find; but the territory of Antioch had been so completely ravaged during many months, that they could not procure anything like enough for the maintenance of a numerous army. The return of all who had been sent in quest of provisions completed the terror of the Christians. At the very moment of their arrival the infidels attacked the advanced posts of the Crusaders; and, even in these early contests, the Christian army had to lament the loss of several of its bravest warriors. Bohemond was wounded in a sortie; in vain Tancred and Godfrey performed prodigies of valour; the Mussulmans forced the Christians to shut themselves up in a place of which the latter had but just made themselves masters, and in which they were soon closely besieged in their turn.

Placed between the garrison of the citadel and a besieging army, the Crusaders found themselves in a most critical position. To prevent their being relieved by any supplies by sea, two thousand Mussulmans were sent by Kerboghâ to take possession of the port of St. Simeon, and of all vessels which brought provisions to the Christian army. Famine was not long in making its appearance, and soon exercised cruel ravages among the besieged.

From the earliest period of the siege the Crusaders could scarcely procure the common necessaries of life at their weight in gold. A loaf of moderate size sold at a bezant, an egg was worth six Lucquese deniers, whilst a pound of silver was given for the head of an ox, a horse, or an ass. Godfrey bought for fifteen silver marks a half-starved camel, and gave three marks for a goat, which at other times would have been rejected by the poorest soldiers of his army. Surrounded by the vast riches conquered from the Saracens, the Crusaders were thus condemned to all the horrors and miseries of famine. After having killed most of their horses, they were compelled to make war upon unclean animals. The soldiers and the poor who followed the army supported themselves on roots and leaves; some went so far as to devour the leather of their bucklers and shoes, whilst the most wretched exhumed the bodies of the Saracens, and, to support their miserable existence, disputed with death for his prey. In this frightful distress, disconsolate mothers could no longer nourish their babes, and died with famine and despair. Princes and knights, whose pride and haughtiness had been the most conspicuous, were brought to the necessity of asking alms. The count of Flanders went begging to the houses and in the streets of Antioch for the commonest and coarsest orts, and often obtained none. More than one leader sold his arms and all his appointments for food to support him a single day. As long as the duke of Lorraine had any provisions he shared them with his companions; but at length he made the sacrifice of his last war-horse, and found himself, as were all the other Crusaders, reduced to the most cruel necessities.

Many of the Crusaders endeavoured to fly from a city which presented to them nothing but the image and the prospect of death; some fled by sea, through a thousand dangers, whilst others cast themselves amongst the Mussulmans, where they purchased a little bread by the abandonment of Christ and his religion. The soldiers necessarily lost courage when they saw that count de Melun, who so often defied death in the field, a second time fly from famine and misery. His desertion was preceded by that of the count de Blois, who bore the standard of the Crusaders, and presided at their councils. He had quitted the army two days before the taking of Antioch, and when he learned the arrival of Kerboghâ, he, with his troops, immediately marched towards Constantinople.

Deserters made their escape during the darkness of night. Sometimes they precipitated themselves into the ditches of the city, at the risk of their lives; sometimes they descended from the ramparts by means of a cord. Every day the Christians found themselves abandoned by an increasing number of their companions; and these desertions added to their despair. Heaven was invoked against the dastards; God was implored that they might, in another life, share the fate of the traitor Judas. The ignominious epithet of _rope-dancers_ ’sauteurs de corde) was attached to their names, and devoted them to the contempt of their companions. William of Tyre refuses to name the crowd of knights who then deserted the cause of Jesus Christ, because he considers them as blotted out from the book of life for ever.[119] The wishes of the Christians against those who fled were but too completely fulfilled; the greater part perished from want, and others were killed by the Saracens. Stephen, count of Chartres, more fortunate than his companions, succeeded in reaching the camp of Alexius, who was advancing with an army towards Antioch. To excuse his desertion, he did not fail to paint, in the darkest colours, all the misfortunes and dangers of the Christians, and to make it appear by his accounts that God had abandoned the cause of the Crusaders. The despair of several Latin pilgrims who followed the army of the Greeks was so violent, that it urged them to horrible blasphemies.[120] They, groaning, asked why the true God had permitted the destruction of his people? why he had allowed them, who were going to deliver the tomb of his Son, to fall into the hands of his enemies? Nothing was heard among the Latin Crusaders but such strange speeches, and Guy, the brother of Bohemond, exceeded all the rest in his despair. In the excess of his grief, he blasphemed more than any, and could not understand the mysteries of Providence, which betrayed the cause of the Christians. “O God,” cried he, “what is become of thy power? If thou art still an all-powerful God, what is become of thy justice? Are we not thy children, are we not thy soldiers? Who is the father of a family, who is the king who thus suffers his own to perish when he has the power to save them? If you abandon those who fight for you, who will dare, henceforward, to range themselves under your sacred banner?” In their blind grief, all the Crusaders repeated these impious words. Such was the frenzy of despair in which sorrow had plunged them, that, according to the report of contemporary historians, all ceremonies of religion were suspended, and no priest or layman during many days pronounced the name of Jesus Christ.

The emperor Alexius, who had advanced as far as Philomelium, was so terrified by all he heard, that he did not dare to continue his march towards Antioch. He thought, says Anna Comnena, it was rash to attempt to succour a city whose fortifications had been ruined by a long siege, and whose only defenders were soldiers reduced to the lowest state of misery. Alexius further reflected, says the same historian, upon the indiscretion and the inconstancy of the Franks, upon their manner of making war without art or rules, and upon the imprudence with which, after having conquered their enemies, they allowed themselves to be surprised by the very same people whom they had conquered. He likewise thought of the difficulty he should have in making his arrival known to the Crusaders, and of the still greater difficulty of making their leaders agree with him upon the best means to save them. All these motives appeared reasonable; but it is easy to believe that Alexius was not sorry to see a war going on which destroyed at the same time both Turks and Latins. However it may be, the resolution which he took of returning to Constantinople threw all the Christians of Phrygia and Bithynia into the greatest alarm. The report then current was ’and if we may believe Anna Comnena, it was from the insinuations of Alexius) that the Mussulmans were approaching with numerous armies. They were constantly believed to be coming, and the soldiers of the emperor themselves laid waste all the country round Philomelium, which, they said, the Saracens were about to invade. Women, children, all the Christian families followed the army of Alexius, as it returned to Constantinople. They bade an eternal adieu to their native country, and deplored the loss of their property of all kinds. Nothing was heard in the army but lamentations and groans; but they who evinced the greatest grief were the Latins, whose wishes were all centred in Syria, and who lost all hope of assisting their brethren besieged in the city of Antioch.

When the news of this retreat reached Antioch, it greatly augmented the depression of the Crusaders. Not a hope remained to them; famine carried off every day a great number of soldiers; their weakened arms could scarcely lift the lance or the sword; they had neither strength to defend their own lives nor to bury their dead. In the midst of such frightful misery, not a tear was seen, not a sob was heard; the silence was as complete in Antioch as if the city had been buried in the most profound night, as if not one living person was left in it. The Crusaders had not even the courage of despair left. The last feeling of nature, the love of life, was becoming daily extinct in their hearts; they feared to meet each other in the public places, and concealed themselves in the interior of the houses, which they looked upon as their tombs.

The towers and the ramparts remained almost without defence. Bohemond, who had taken the command of the place, sought in vain by his speeches to raise the courage of the Crusaders; in vain the trumpets and the serjeants-at-arms called them to the combat. Whilst the Mussulmans shut up in the citadel, and those who besieged the city, every day renewed their attacks, the Christian warriors remained immovable in their dwellings. In order to drive them from their retreats, Bohemond was obliged to give several quarters of the city up to the flames. Raoul de Caen deplores, in pompous verses, the conflagration and the ruin of churches and palaces, _built with the cedars of Mount Lebanon_, and in which shone _the marble of Mount Atlas, the crystal of Tyre, the brass of Cyprus, the lead of Amathontis, and the iron of England_. The barons who could no longer enforce the obedience of their soldiers, had not strength to offer them an example. Then they bitterly remembered their families, their castles, their wealth, all which they had quitted for this unfortunate war; they could not comprehend the reverses of the Christian army, and little was wanting, says William of Tyre, to make them accuse God of ingratitude, for having refused so many sacrifices made to the glory of his name.

Matthew of Edessa relates that the Christian leaders offered to give up the city to Kerboghâ, upon the single condition that he would allow them and their soldiers to return to their own countries, taking with them their baggage. As the Saracen general rejected their proposal, several of them, actuated by despair, formed the project of abandoning the army, and flying by night towards the coast, but were prevented by the exhortations of Godfrey and Bishop Adhemar, who pointed out to them the disgrace which such a step would bring upon them in the eyes of both Europe and Asia.

The famine had continued its ravages for more than two weeks, and the Mussulmans pressed on the siege with the greater ardour, from the conviction that they should soon be masters of the city. Fanaticism and superstition, which had precipitated the Crusaders into the abyss in which they were now plunged, alone had the power to reanimate their courage, and extricate them from such fearful perils. Prophecies, revelations, and miracles became every day the more frequent subjects of report in the Christian army. St. Ambrose had appeared to a venerable priest, and had told him that the Christians, after overcoming all their enemies, would enter Jerusalem as conquerors, and that God would there reward their exploits and their labours.[121] A Lombard ecclesiastic had passed the night in one of the churches of Antioch, and had there seen Jesus Christ, accompanied by the Virgin and the prince of the apostles. The Son of God, irritated by the conduct of the Crusaders, rejected their prayers, and abandoned them to the fate they had too richly merited; but the Virgin fell at the knees of her son, and by her tears and lamentations appeased the anger of the Saviour. “Arise,” then said the Son of God to the priest, “go and inform my people of the return of my commiseration; hasten and announce to the Christians, that if they come back to me, the hour of their deliverance is at hand.”

They whom God had thus made the depositaries of his secrets and his will, offered, in attestation of the truth of their visions, to precipitate themselves from a lofty tower, to pass through flames, or to submit their heads to the executioner; but these proofs were not necessary to persuade the Crusaders, always ready to believe in prodigies, and who had become more credulous than ever in the moment of danger and in the excess of their misfortunes. The imagination of both leaders and soldiers was easily led away by the promises which were made to them in the name of Heaven. The hopes of a more prosperous future began to re-animate their courage. Tancred, as a good and loyal knight, swore, that as long as he had sixty companions left, he would never abandon the project of delivering Jerusalem. Godfrey, Hugh, Raymond, and the two Roberts took the same oath. The whole army, after the example of their leaders, promised to fight and to suffer until the day appointed for the deliverance of the holy places.

In the midst of this reviving enthusiasm, two deserters came before the Christian army, and related that, when endeavouring to escape from Antioch, they had been stopped, the one by his brother, who had been killed in fight, the other by Jesus Christ himself. The Saviour of mankind had promised to deliver Antioch. The warrior who had fallen under the sword of the Saracens had sworn to issue from the grave with all his companions, equally dead as himself, to fight with the Christians. In order to crown all these heavenly promises, a priest of the diocese of Marseilles, named Peter Barthélemi, came before the council of the leaders, to reveal an apparition of St. Andrew, which had been repeated three times during his sleep. The holy apostle had said to him: “Go to the church of my brother Peter at Antioch. Near the principal altar you will find, by digging up the earth, the iron head of the lance which pierced the side of our Redeemer. Within three days this instrument of eternal salvation shall be manifested to his disciples. This mystical iron, borne at the head of the army, shall effect the deliverance of the Christians, and shall pierce the hearts of the infidels.”[122] Adhemar, Raymond, and the other leaders believed, or feigned to believe in this apparition, an account of which soon spread throughout the army. The soldiers said among themselves that nothing was impossible to the God of the Christians; they further believed that Jesus Christ was interested in their welfare, and that God ought to perform miracles to save his disciples and defenders. During three days the Christian army prepared itself by fasting and prayer for the discovery of the holy lance.

On the morning of the third day, twelve Crusaders chosen from amongst the most respected of the clergy and the knights, repaired to the church of Antioch with a great number of workmen provided with the necessary instruments. They began by digging up the earth under the principal altar. The greatest silence prevailed in the church; the spectators expecting every instant to see the glitter of the miraculous lance. The whole army, assembled round the doors, which they had had the precaution to shut, awaited with impatience the results of the search. The diggers worked during several hours, and had gone to the depth of twelve feet without any appearance of the lance. They continued their operations till evening without discovering anything. The impatience of the Christians still increased. In the middle of the night another attempt was made. Whilst the twelve witnesses were at prayers round the sides of the hole, Barthélemi precipitated himself into it, and in a short time re-appeared, holding the sacred iron in his hands. A cry of joy arose among the spectators, which was repeated by the soldiers who waited at the doors, and which soon resounded through all quarters of the city. The iron on which all the hopes of the Christians were centred, was exhibited in triumph to the Crusaders, to whom it appeared a celestial weapon with which God himself would disperse his enemies. Every mind became excited, and doubts were no longer entertained of the protection of Heaven. Enthusiasm gave new life to the army, and restored strength and vigour to the Crusaders. All the horrors of famine, and even the numbers of their enemies were forgotten. The most pusillanimous thirsted for the blood of the Saracens, and all demanded with loud cries to be led forth to battle.

The leaders of the Christian army who had prepared the enthusiasm of the soldiers, now employed themselves in taking advantage of it. They sent deputies to the general of the Saracens, to offer him either a single combat or a general battle. Peter the Hermit, who had evinced more exaltation than any other person, was chosen for this embassy. Although received with contempt in the camp of the infidels, he delivered himself no less haughtily or boldly. “The princes assembled in Antioch,” said Peter, addressing the Saracen leaders, “have sent me to demand justice of you. These provinces, stained with the blood of martyrs, have belonged to Christian nations, and as all Christian people are brothers, we are come into Asia to avenge the injuries of those who have been persecuted, and to defend the heritage of Christ and his disciples. Heaven has allowed the cities of Syria to fall for a time into the power of infidels, in order to chastise the offences of his people; but learn that the vengeance of the Most High is appeased; learn that the tears and penitence of the Christians have turned aside the sword of divine justice, and that the God of armies has arisen to fight on our side. Nevertheless we still consent to speak of peace. I conjure you, in the name of the all-powerful God, to abandon the territory of Antioch and return to your own country. The Christians promise you, by my voice, not to molest you in your retreat. We will even put up prayers for you that the true God may touch your hearts, and permit you to see the truth of our faith. If Heaven deigns to listen to us, how delightful it will be to us to give you the name of brethren, and to conclude with you a lasting peace! But if you are not willing to accept either the blessings of peace or the benefits of the Christian religion, let the fate of battle at length decide the justice of our cause. As the Christians will not be taken by surprise, and as they are not accustomed to steal victories, they offer you the choice of combat.”[123] When finishing his discourse, Peter fixed his eyes upon the leader of the Saracens, and said, “Choose from amongst the bravest of thy army, and let them do battle with an equal number of the Crusaders; fight thyself with one of our Christian princes; or give the signal for a general battle.[124] Whatever may be thy choice, thou shalt soon learn what thy enemies are, and thou shalt know what the great God is whom we serve!”

Kerboghâ, who knew the situation of the Christians, and who was not aware of the kind of succour they had received in their distress, was much surprised at such language. He remained for some time mute with astonishment and rage, but at length said, “Return to them who sent you, and tell them it is the part of the conquered to receive conditions, and not to dictate them. Miserable vagabonds, extenuated men, phantoms may terrify women; but the warriors of Asia are not intimidated by vain words. The Christians shall soon learn that the land we tread upon belongs to us. Nevertheless I am willing to entertain some pity for them, and if they will acknowledge Mahomet, I may forget that this city, a prey to famine, is already in my power; I may leave it in their hands, and give them arms, clothes, bread, women, in short, all that they have not; for the Koran bids us pardon all who submit to its laws. Bid thy companions hasten, and on this very day take advantage of my clemency; to-morrow they shall only leave Antioch by the sword. They will then see if their crucified God, who could not save himself from the cross, can save them from the fate which is prepared for them.”

This speech was loudly applauded by the Saracens, whose fanaticism it rekindled. Peter wished to reply, but the sultan of Mossoul, placing his hand upon his sword, commanded that these miserable mendicants, who united blindness with insolence, should be driven away. The Christian deputies retired in haste, and were in danger of losing their lives several times whilst passing through the army of the infidels. Peter rendered an account of his mission to the assembled princes and barons; and all immediately prepared for battle. The heralds-at-arms proceeded through the different quarters of the city, and battle was promised for the next day to the impatient valour of the Crusaders.

The priests and bishops exhorted the Christians to render themselves worthy of fighting for the cause of Jesus Christ; and the whole army passed the night in prayer and acts of devotion. Injuries were forgiven, alms were bestowed, and all the churches were filled with warriors, who humbled themselves before God, and implored a remission of their sins. The preceding evening some provisions had been found, and this unexpected abundance was considered as a species of miracle. The Crusaders repaired their strength by a frugal meal; and towards the end of the night, that which remained of bread and meal in Antioch served for the sacrifice of the mass. A hundred thousand warriors approached the tribunal of penitence, and received, with all the evidences of piety, the God for whom they had taken up arms.[125]

At length day appeared; it was the festival of St. Peter and St. Paul. The gates of Antioch were thrown open, and the whole Christian army marched out in twelve divisions, symbolical of the twelve apostles. Hugh the Great, though weakened by a long illness, appeared in the foremost ranks, and bore the standard of the Church. All the princes, knights, and barons were at the head of their men-at-arms. The only one of all the leaders that did not appear in the ranks was the count de Thoulouse; detained in Antioch by the consequences of a wound, he was charged with the duty of watching the garrison of the citadel, whilst his companions went to give battle to the army of the Saracens.

Raymond d’Agiles,[126] one of the historians of the crusade, bore the holy lance, and directed the attention of the soldiers to it. Adhemar marched by the side of Raymond, announcing to the Crusaders the help of the celestial legions which God had promised them. A part of the clergy advanced in procession at the head of the army, singing the martial psalm, “_Let the Lord arise, and let his enemies be dispersed_.” The bishops and priests who had remained in Antioch, surrounded by the women and children, from the top of the ramparts blessed the arms of the Crusaders, praying the Lord to preserve his people and confound the pride of his enemies. The banks of the Orontes and the neighbouring mountains appeared to answer to these invocations, and resounded with the war-cry of the Crusaders, “_It is the will of God! It is the will of God!_”

Amidst this concert of acclamations and prayers, the Christian army advanced into the plain. To judge only by the state of misery to which they had been reduced, they had rather the appearance of a conquered army than of an army of men marching to victory. A great number of the Crusaders were without clothes. The greater part of the knights and barons marched on foot. Some were mounted on asses and camels, and, what is not an indifferent circumstance on this day, Godfrey de Bouillon had been obliged to borrow a horse of the count de Thoulouse. In the ranks were sick and attenuated soldiers, weakened by famine, and marching with difficulty, who were only supported by the hope of conquering or of dying for the cause of Jesus Christ.

The whole country round Antioch was covered with the Mussulman battalions. The Saracens had divided their army into fifteen bodies arranged in _échelons_. In the midst of all these, the division of Kerboghâ, says the Armenian historian, appeared like _an inaccessible mountain_. The Saracen general, who had no expectation of a battle, at first believed that the Christians were come to implore his clemency. A black flag flying over the citadel of Antioch, which was the signal agreed upon to announce the resolution of the Crusaders, soon informed him that he had not to deal with supplicants. Two thousand men of his army, who guarded the passage of the bridge of Antioch, were cut in pieces by the count de Vermandois. The fugitives carried terror to the tent of their general, who was playing at chess. Aroused from his false security, the sultan of Mossoui ordered the head of a deserter to be cut off who had announced to him the speedy surrender of the Christians, and then set himself seriously to the task of fighting an enemy whose auxiliaries were fanaticism and despair.

On marching out of Antioch[127] the Christians advanced westwards towards the spot where the mountains draw near to the Orontes. Ranged in order of battle, in a vast space where the mountains formed a semicircle around them and secured them from surprise, they extended across the plain a league from the city. Hugh, the two Roberts, the count de Belesme, and the count of Hainaut placed themselves at the head of the left wing; Godfrey was on the right, supported by Eustace, Baldwin du Bourg, Tancred, Rinaldo de Toul, and Erard de Puyset. Adhemar was in the centre, with Gaston de Béarn, the count de Die, Raimbaut of Orange, William of Montpellier, and Amanjeu d’Albret. Bohemond commanded a body of reserve, ready to act upon all points where the Christians might require assistance. Kerboghâ, who saw the disposition of the Crusaders, ordered the sultans of Nice, Damascus, and Aleppo, to make the tour of the mountain and then reascend the Orontes, so as to place themselves between the Christian army and the city. He at the same time drew his army up in line of battle to receive the Christians and repulse their attack. He placed his troops partly on the heights and partly on the plain. His right wing was commanded by the emir of Jerusalem, and his left wing by one of the sons of Accien. For himself he remained upon a high hill, to give his orders and watch the movements of the two armies.

At the moment of the commencement of the battle, Kerboghâ was seized with fear, and sent to propose to the Christian princes, that in order to spare the effusion of blood, they should select some of their knights to fight against an equal number of Saracens. This proposal, which had been rejected the day before, could not be adopted by the leaders of an army full of ardour and confident of victory. The Christians entertained no doubt that Heaven had declared itself in their favour, and this persuasion must render them invincible. In their enthusiasm, they looked upon the most natural events as prodigies announcing to them the triumph of their arms. A globe of fire, which on the preceding evening had passed across the horizon and burst over the camp of the Saracens, appeared to them a sign foretelling their victory. As they left Antioch a light rain refreshed the burning air of the climate and the season, and was in their eyes a fresh proof of the favour of Heaven. A strong wind, which assisted the flight of their javelins and impeded that of the arrows of the Turks, was for them as the wind of heavenly anger raised to disperse the infidels. Animated by this persuasion, the Christian army showed the greatest impatience to begin the fight. They marched towards the enemy in perfect order. A profound silence reigned over the plain, on all parts of which shone the arms of the Christians. No sound was heard in their ranks but the voices of the leaders, the hymns of the priests, and the exhortations of Adhemar.

All at once the Saracens commenced the attack by discharging a cloud of arrows and then rushing on the Crusaders, uttering barbarous cries. In spite of their impetuous shock, their right wing was soon repulsed and penetrated by the Christians. Godfrey met with greater resistance in their left wing; he succeeded, however, in breaking it and carrying disorder among their ranks. At the moment that the troops of Kerboghâ began to give way, the sultan of Nice, who had made the tour of the mountain and returned along the banks of the Orontes, fell with impetuosity upon the rear of the Christian army, and threatened destruction to the body of reserve commanded by Bohemond. The Crusaders, who fought on foot, could not resist the first charge of the Saracen cavalry. Hugh the Great, warned of the danger of Bohemond, abandoned the pursuit of the fugitives, and hastened to the succour of the body of reserve. Then the battle was renewed with redoubled fury. Kilidj Arslan, who had to avenge the shame of several defeats as well as the loss of his states, fought like a lion at the head of his troops. A squadron of three thousand Saracen horse, clothed in steel and armed with clubs, carried disorder and terror through the ranks of the Christians. The standard of the count de Vermandois was carried away, and retaken, covered with the blood of Crusaders and infidels. Godfrey and Tancred, who flew to the assistance of Hugh and Bohemond, signalized their strength and valour by the death of a great many Mussulmans. The sultan of Nice, whom no reverse could overcome, firmly withstood the shock of the Christians. In the heat of the combat, he ordered lighted flax to be thrown amongst the low bushes and dried grass which covered the plain. Immediately a blaze arose which enveloped the Christians in masses of flame and smoke. Their ranks were for a moment broken; they could no longer either see or hear their leaders. The sultan of Nice was about to gather the fruits of his stratagem, and victory was on the point of escaping from the hands of the Crusaders.

At this moment, say the historians, a squadron was seen to descend from the summit of the mountains, preceded by three horsemen clothed in white and covered with shining armour. “Behold!” cried Bishop Adhemar,[128] “the heavenly succour which was promised to you. Heaven declares for the Christians; the holy martyrs George, Demetrius, and Theodore come to fight for you.” Immediately all eyes were turned towards the celestial legion. A new ardour inspired the Christians, who were persuaded that God himself was coming to their aid, and the war-cry “_It is the will of God!_” was heard as at the beginning of the battle. The women and children who had remained in Antioch, and were collected on the walls, animated the courage of the Crusaders by their cries and acclamations, whilst the priests continued to raise their hands towards heaven, and returned thanks to God by songs of praise and thanksgiving for the succour he had sent to the Christians. Of the Crusaders themselves each man became a hero, and nothing could stand before their impetuous charge. In a moment the ranks of the Saracens were everywhere broken, and they only fought in confusion and disorder. They endeavoured to rally on the other side of a torrent and upon an elevated point whence their trumpets and clarions resounded; but the count de Vermandois attacked them in this last post and completely routed them. They had now no safety but in flight, and the banks of the Orontes, the woods, the plains, the mountains were covered with the fugitives, who abandoned both their arms and their baggage.

Kerboghâ, who had been so certain of victory as to have announced the defeat of the Christians to the caliph of Bagdad and the sultan of Persia, fled towards the Euphrates, escorted by a small body of his most faithful soldiers. Several of the emirs had taken to flight before the end of the battle. Tancred and some others, mounted on the horses of the conquered enemy, pursued till nightfall the sultans of Aleppo and Damascus, the emir of Jerusalem, and the scattered wreck of the Saracen army. The conquerors set fire to the intrenchments behind which the enemy’s infantry had sought refuge, and a vast number of Mussulmans perished in the flames.

According to the account of several contemporary historians, the infidels left a hundred thousand dead on the field of battle. Four thousand Crusaders lost their lives on this glorious day, and were placed among the ranks of the martyrs.

The Christians found abundances beneath the tents of their enemies; fifteen thousand camels and a great number of horses fell into their hands. As they passed the night in the camp of the Saracens, they had leisure to admire the luxury of the Orientals, and they examined with the greatest surprise the tent of the king of Mossoul,[129] resplendent with gold and precious stones, which, divided into long streets flanked by high towers, resembled a fortified city. They employed several days in carrying the spoils into Antioch. The booty was immense, and every Crusader, according to the remark of Albert d’Aix, found himself much richer than he was when he quitted Europe.

The sight of the Saracen camp after the battle proved plainly that they had displayed much more splendour and magnificence than true courage. The veteran warriors, the companions of Malek-Scha, had almost all perished in the civil wars which had for so many years desolated the empire of the Seljoucides. The army that came to the succour of Antioch was composed of raw troops, levied in haste, and reckoned under its standards several rival nations, always ready to take up arms against each other.[130] It is the duty of the historian to admit that the twenty-eight emirs who accompanied Kerboghâ were almost all at variance with one another, and scarcely acknowledged the authority of a chief. On the contrary, the greatest union prevailed on this day among the Christians. The different bodies of their army fought upon one single point, and afforded each other mutual support, whereas Kerboghâ had divided his forces. In this battle, but more particularly in the circumstances which preceded it, the sultan of Mossoul showed more presumption than skill; by the slowness of his march he lost the opportunity of assisting Accien or of surprising the Crusaders. Afterwards, too certain of victory, he never dreamt of what despair and fanaticism are able to effect. These two powerful principles greatly increased the natural bravery of the Franks. The horrible distress to which they had been reduced only tended to make them invincible, and in that we shall find the miracle of the day.

When the danger was past, the holy lance which had given so much confidence to the Crusaders during the battle, no longer excited their veneration, and lost all its marvellous influence. As it remained in the hands of the count of Thoulouse and his Provençals, to whom it brought a great number of offerings, the other nations were not willing to leave them the sole advantage of a miracle which augmented their consideration and their wealth; and, as we shall soon see, it was not long before doubts were raised upon the authenticity of the lance which had effected such wonders, and the spirit of rivalry did that which reason might have done in a more enlightened age.

The victory of Antioch appeared to the Saracens to be so extraordinary an event that many of them abandoned the religion of their prophet. Those who defended the citadel were so struck with terror and surprise, that they surrendered to Raymond the very day of the battle. Three hundred of them embraced the faith of the holy Gospel, and many went among the cities of Syria declaring that the God of the Christians must be the true God.