Chapter XXI: Book IV: A.d. 1099-1103 (3)

The nearer the Christians approached the army of Egypt, the more were they filled with confidence and hope. Their drums, cymbals, hymns, and war-songs animated them to the fight. They marched towards the enemy, says Albert d’Aix, as to a joyous feast. An emir of Palestine, who followed the army as an auxiliary, could not sufficiently admire, if we may believe historians, this joy of the soldiers of the cross at the approach of danger. He came to express his surprise to the king of Jerusalem, and swore before him to embrace a religion which could give so much strength and bravery to its defenders.

The Christians soon arrived in the plain of Ascalon. This immense plain is bounded on the east and south by mountains, and extends on the west to the sea. On the coast was situated the city of Ascalon, over which the Mussulman standards floated. At the extremity of the plain the army of Egypt was drawn up, with the sea and the mountains behind it. The Crusaders advanced in two lines; the count of Thoulouse commanded the right wing, the two Roberts and Tancred were placed at the left. Godfrey commanded a body of reserve, which was at the same time to keep the garrison of Ascalon in check and fight with the army of Egypt.

Whilst the Christian army was thus marching in battle array, the drove of oxen and camels that they had met on their route came to their rear, and followed all their movements. The confused noise of these animals, mingled with the sound of the drums and trumpets, and the clouds of dust which arose under their steps, caused them to be taken for squadrons of horse, and the Mussulmans were persuaded that the Christian army was more numerous than their own. They were drawn up in two lines, as the Crusaders were. The Turks from Syria and Bagdad were on the right; the Moors and Egyptians on the left; the emir Afdhal occupied the centre with the main body of the Egyptian forces. This army covered an immense space, and, says Foulcher de Chartres, like a stag who projects his branching horns, it extended its wings to envelop the Christians; but a sudden terror rendered it motionless.

In vain the emir endeavoured to rouse the courage of his soldiers. They fancied that millions of Crusaders had arrived from the West; they forgot both their oaths and their threats, and only remembered the fate of the Mussulmans immolated after the conquest of Jerusalem.

Before engaging, all the Crusaders, fully armed, fell on their knees to implore the protection of Heaven; and rising full of ardour and hope, marched against the Saracens. If the most truthful historians are to be believed, they had not more than fifteen thousand foot and five thousand horse. When they had arrived within bow-shot, the foot-soldiers made several discharges of javelins, at the same time the cavalry, increasing their speed, precipitated themselves upon the enemy’s ranks. At this first charge the duke of Normandy, the count of Flanders, and Tancred broke through the centre of the Egyptians. Duke Robert, followed by his bravest knights, penetrated to the place where Afdhal fought, and got possession of the great standard of the infidels. The foot-soldiers followed the horse into the _mêlée_, and cast away their bows and javelins to make use of sword and lance, arms much more terrible to the Mussulmans.

On all sides the Saracens were thrown into disorder. Towards the end of the battle Godfrey had had to contend with a troop of Ethiopians, who bent one knee to the ground to launch their javelins, and then, springing up, rushed upon the Crusaders with long flails armed with balls of iron. This redoubtable battalion could not alone resist the lances of the Christians, and were soon dispersed. An invincible terror seemed to paralyze the arms of the Mussulmans. Whilst the king of Jerusalem was pursuing the Ethiopians and Moors who fled towards the mountains in the vicinity of the field of battle, the Syrians and the Arabs, who fought in the left wing, were broken by the count of Thoulouse. Hotly pressed by the conquerors, a great number of them precipitated themselves into the sea, and perished in the waves; others sought an asylum in the city of Ascalon, and such was their eagerness, and so numerous were they, that two thousand were crushed to death upon the drawbridge. Amidst the general rout, Afdhal was on the point of falling into the hands of the conquerors; and, leaving his sword upon the field of battle, had great difficulty in gaining Ascalon. Historians add, that when, from the walls of that city, he contemplated the destruction of his army, he shed a torrent of tears. In his despair, he cursed Jerusalem, the cause of all his evils, and blasphemed Mahomet, whom he accused of having abandoned his servants and disciples.

This was a day of terror and death for the Mussulmans. From the beginning of the battle, the infidels, who had previously burned with a thirst of vengeance, appeared to have no purpose but to escape by flight from an enemy who granted no mercy to the conquered. In their mortal fear, they let fall their arms, and suffered themselves to be slaughtered without offering the least resistance. Their terrified crowd stood motionless on the field of battle, and the sword, to employ the expression of a contemporary,[195] mowed them down like the grass of the field. Some cast themselves on the ground, and concealed themselves among heaps of slain; whilst others plunged into caverns, or scrambled up rocks or trees, where they were shot down with arrows, like birds.[196] Afdhal, who did not believe himself to be in safety in Ascalon, embarked on board a fleet which had arrived from Egypt. Towards the middle of the contest, all the Egyptian vessels which were near the shore spread their sails, and gained the open sea. From that moment no hope of safety remained for the scattered army of these infidels, who were, as they had said, to deliver the East, and whose multitude was so great, that, according to the expression of old historians, God alone knew the number of them.[197]

Such was this battle, whose prodigies poetry has taken delight in celebrating, but which was, in reality, nothing but an easy victory for the Christians, in which fanaticism even had not the least share. On this day the presence of celestial legions did not animate the battalions of the Crusaders, and the martyrs St. George and St. Demetrius, whom they always believed they saw in great perils, had no occasion to be present in this fight. The Christians must have learnt from this _rencontre_ that their new adversaries were much less to be dreaded than the Turks. The Egyptian army was composed of many different nations, which were divided among themselves; the greater part of the Mussulman troops had been levied in haste, and fought for the first time. The army of the Crusaders, on the contrary, had been proved by many victories, and their leaders were as skilful as they were brave. The bold resolution that Godfrey had taken of going to meet the enemy, raised the confidence of the soldiers, and assisted in creating fear and disorder among the Egyptians.[198]

If William of Tyre and Robert the Monk may be believed, the Christians did not lose a single horseman. They might have made themselves masters of Ascalon, but want of union among the leaders prevented their taking due advantage of their victory.[199]

After the defeat of the enemy, Raymond had sent a messenger into the place to summon the garrison to surrender.[200] He wished to plant his standard on the walls of the city, and retain the conquest for himself. On the other hand, Godfrey claimed the possession of it and maintained that Ascalon ought to form part of the kingdom of Jerusalem. The debates became very warm. The count of Thoulouse, who found all the leaders of the Christian army against him, listened to nothing but the dictates of his blind anger; he recommended the garrison to defend themselves, and set forward with his troops to return to Jerusalem. Godfrey, after the desertion of Raymond, in vain attempted to besiege the city. The greater part of the Crusaders, impatient to return to their own country, abandoned his colours; and, after making the inhabitants and garrison of Antioch pay him a considerable sum, he was obliged to follow them to Jerusalem.

The quarrel which was begun between Raymond and Godfrey before Ascalon was renewed a few days after before the city of Arsouf, situated near the sea, twelve miles to the north of Ramla. The count of St. Gilles, who marched first with his troops, undertook to besiege this place, but as he met with an obstinate resistance, he abandoned the siege, and continued his march, after having warned the garrison that they had nothing to fear from the king of Jerusalem. A short time after, Godfrey having besieged the city, found the Saracens determined to defend themselves, and as he learnt that their resistance was the fruit of the counsels of Raymond, he could not restrain his anger, but resolved to avenge this affront in the blood of his rival. He marched with his ensigns displayed, against the count de St. Gilles, who, on his part, was willing to meet him, and prepared for the conflict. The Christians were on the point of proceeding to extremities, when the two Roberts and Tancred threw themselves between Raymond and Godfrey, and used their utmost exertions to appease them. After a long altercation, the two rivals, overcome by the prayers of the other chiefs, embraced in the presence of their soldiers, who had taken part in their animosity.

The reconciliation was sincere on both sides. The pious Godfrey, says Albert d’Aix, conjured his companions to forget the dissension that had broken out among the Christian warriors, and implored them, with tears in his eyes, to remember that they had together delivered the holy tomb, that they were all brothers in Christ, and that concord was still necessary to defend Jerusalem. When the inhabitants of Arsouf learnt that the leaders of the Christian army were reconciled, they repented of their resistance, and engaged to pay a tribute to Godfrey.[201]

After having received and given hostages as a guarantee of the treaty, Godfrey, followed by all the other chiefs, quitted the territory of Arsouf, to return to Jerusalem. The Christian army was loaded with an immense booty. It marched, followed by the droves of cattle it had met on the banks of the Sorec, and brought back all the riches found in the camp of the infidels. As they approached Jerusalem, all the trumpets were sounded, and their victorious flags were unfurled. A crowd of pilgrims, who came out to meet them, filled the air with their songs of gladness; these lively expressions of joy mingled with the hymns of the priests; the echoes, says Robert the Monk, repeated the sounds of the warlike instruments and the acclamations of the Christians, and appeared to offer an application of these words of Isaiah: “_The mountains and the hills shall sing before you the praises of the Lord_.” The Crusaders entered the holy city in triumph. The great standard and the sword of the sultan were suspended on the columns of the church of the Holy Sepulchre. All the pilgrims, assembled in the very places which the emir Afdhal had sworn utterly to destroy, returned thanks to Heaven for a victory which crowned all their labours.

The victory of Ascalon was the last of this crusade. At length, liberated from their vows, after four years of toils and dangers, the princes of the crusade quitted Jerusalem, whose sole means of defence now were three hundred knights, the wisdom of Godfrey, and the sword of Tancred, who had resolved to end his days in Asia. Some embarked on the Mediterranean, whilst others marched across Syria and Asia Minor. They arrived in the West bearing palm branches in their hands, and singing hymns of triumph on their way. Their return was considered as a miracle, a sort of resurrection, and their presence was everywhere looked upon as a subject of edification and enthusiasm. Most of them had been ruined by the holy war; but they brought back from the East precious relics, which were in the eyes of the faithful a veritable treasure.[202] Their hearers were never tired of listening to the recital of their labours and exploits. Tears, doubtless, mingled with the transports of admiration and joy when they spoke of their numerous companions whom death had swept away in Asia. There was not a family that had not to weep a defender of the cross, or did not glorify itself with having a martyr in heaven. Ancient chronicles have celebrated the heroic devotion of Ida, countess of Hainault, who made the voyage to the East, and braved all dangers in search of her husband. Sent by the Crusaders to Alexius, the count of Hainault, with all the persons of his suite, had disappeared, without any one being able to say what had been their fate. Some said they were still prisoners among the Turks, others that they were killed. Ida sought through many countries of Asia, but returned to France without having obtained any tidings of her husband.[203]

The count of Thoulouse, who had sworn never to return to the West, went to Constantinople, where the emperor received him with distinction, and gave him the city of Laodicea. Raymond of Orange determined to share the destiny of the count of Thoulouse, and finish his days in the East. Among the knights, companions of Raymond de St. Gilles, who returned to their own country, we must not forget Stephen and Peter de Salviac de Viel Castel, whom their age holds up as models of brotherly love. Stephen and Peter de Salviac were twins, and the tenderest affection united them from their infancy. Peter assumed the cross at the council of Clermont, and Stephen, although married, and the father of several children, determined to follow his brother into Asia, and share with him the perils of so long a voyage. In all battles they were seen fighting side by side, and they together were present at the sieges of Nice, Antioch, and Jerusalem. A short time after their return to Le Quercy, they both died in the same week, and were buried in the same tomb. On their tomb may still be read an epitaph which has transmitted to us the remembrance of their exploits and of their touching affection. Gaston de Béarn returned with them into Europe; but some years after, having re-entered upon his estates, he again took up arms against the infidels, and died in Spain, fighting against the Moors.

Peter the Hermit, on his return to his country, concealed himself from the eager curiosity of the faithful, and shut himself up in a monastery he had founded at Huy.[204] He lived there in humility and penitence, and was buried among the cenobites he had edified by his virtues. Eustace, the brother of Godfrey and Baldwin, returned to take possession of the moderate inheritance of the family, and gave no further trouble to fame by his exploits. Alain Fergent, duke of Brittany, and Robert, count of Flanders, returned to their states, repaired the evils caused by their absence, and died regretted by their subjects.[205]

The duke of Normandy was less fortunate than his companions. The sight of the holy places, or the long series of labours and evils he had endured in the cause of religion, had had no effect upon his indolent, undecided character. On his return from the Holy Land, he passed through Italy, where he fell in love with Sibylla, the daughter of the count of Conversana, and allowed his passion to detain him from his duchy more than a year. By this delay he lost the opportunity of ascending the throne of England, to which, after the death of his brother William Rufus, his birth, and the great renown he had acquired in the crusade, gave him undoubted right. When at length he returned to Normandy, he was received with transports of admiration and joy; but upon resuming the reins of government, he showed nothing but weakness; he gave himself up entirely to debauchery, and surrounded himself by none but dissipated, greedy courtiers, who drew upon him the hatred of his subjects. His brother, Henry I., who had succeeded William Rufus, took advantage of the degraded condition of Robert, and the contempt into which he was fallen, to take possession of Normandy. At the end of a battle this unfortunate prince was made prisoner by his brother, who led him in triumph to England, and caused him to be confined in the castle of Cardiff, in the province of Glamorgan. The remembrance of his exploits in the Holy Land had no effect in mitigating his misfortunes. After twenty-eight years of captivity, he died forgotten by his subjects, his allies, and the ancient companions of his glory.

The return of the Crusaders, and the account of their conquests, excited great enthusiasm, and renewed the eagerness for crusades and pilgrimages among the nations of the West. They were not now affected by the passion for delivering the holy places, but by that of visiting and defending them. Europe exhibited a second time the scenes which had followed the council of Clermont; new discourses were heard, and fresh miracles related. Cities, lands, and castles were again offered for sale. He who preferred repose and his country to the glory of the holy pilgrimage passed for a very lukewarm Christian; whilst all who had quitted the standard of the crusade were objects of contempt in the eyes of the faithful, and were threatened with the thunders of the Church.

A general cry was raised against the brother of the king of France, who could not be pardoned for having abandoned the Christian army in a cowardly manner, and returned to Europe without seeing Jerusalem. Stephen, count of Chartres and Blois, was not allowed to remain in peace in his states and family; his people were astonished at his shameful desertion, and his wife Adela reproached him with having shrunk from the duties of religion and chivalry. These unfortunate princes, and all who had deserted the standards of the holy war, were obliged to quit France, and again take the route for Asia.

Many of the princes and barons who had not partaken of the enthusiasm of the first Crusaders, accused themselves of culpable indifference, and were drawn into the general movement. Among these latter was William IX., count of Poictiers, a relation of the emperor of Germany, and the most powerful vassal of the king of France. An amiable and intelligent prince, of not at all a warlike character, he left, to take up the pilgrim’s staff, a voluptuous and gallant court, which he had often delighted with his songs. He took upon him the cross at Limoges, and set out for the East, accompanied by a great number of his vassals, among whom were a vast many women and young girls.[206] His example was followed by William, count of Nevers, Orpin, count of Bourges, and Eude, duke of Burgundy. This last prince, perhaps, was influenced less by a desire of visiting Jerusalem than by his anxiety to recover the remains of his daughter Florine, who had been killed with Sweno in Asia Minor.

In Italy, Albert, count of Blandras, and Anselm, archbishop of Milan, placed themselves at the head of a countless multitude of pilgrims. Germany witnessed the departure of Conrad, marshal of the emperor Henry, Wolf IX., duke of Bavaria, the princess Ida, margravine of Austria; and a great number of lords and knights.

In this new expedition, as in the first, many of the Crusaders were led away by a desire for seeking adventures and visiting foreign countries. The brilliant success of Baldwin, Bohemond, and Godfrey aroused the ambition of the barons who had remained in Europe. Humbert II., count of Savoy, who set out for the Holy Land with Hugh the Great, made a donation to the monks of the Bourget, in order to obtain by their prayers, a fortunate establishment ’_consulat_) in his foreign voyage.[207] Many lords and knights made similar donations, whilst others founded monasteries and churches, setting out with the hope that God would bless their arms, and enable them to acquire rich principalities in the East.

The Crusaders assembled in several troops, and crossing the territories of the Hungarians and Bulgarians, united under the walls of Constantinople to the amount of two hundred thousand. These new pilgrims repeated the scenes of violence which had so seriously alarmed Alexius in the first expedition. The Greek emperor, faithful to his policy, opposed force by cunning; he flattered the vanity or the avarice of men he could not subdue, and paid very dearly for the insincere homage of the leaders of the crusade. He called Raymond to his assistance, who was then in his government of Laodicea. The presence and the persuasive discourses of the count of Thoulouse calmed the perturbed spirits of the Crusaders for a few days; and when they set forward on their march to Palestine, he was charged with conducting them across Asia Minor.

Among this confused mass of pilgrims[208] was a crowd of monks, old men, women, and young girls. They were without discipline, and marched without either precaution or order; but they had such perfect confidence in their arms, that they boasted, on leaving Constantinople, that they would go to Bagdad, and wrest Asia from the hands of the infidels. Their troop was divided into three bodies. At the head of the first were the duke of Burgundy, the count of Chartres, the archbishop of Milan, the count de Blandras, and Raymond de St. Gilles. “The archbishop of Milan,” says Albert d’Aix, “had brought into Asia an arm of St. Ambrose, with which he gave his benediction to the Crusaders. Raymond carried with him the lance that had been found at Antioch, to which he looked for new miracles.”

This first body, advancing towards Paphlagonia, took the city of Ancyra by assault, and laid siege to the fortress of Gangras. The garrison made a strong resistance, and forced the Christians to retire. They were in want of provisions, and entertained but little hopes of obtaining any in an enemy’s country; and whilst sinking into despondency they quite unexpectedly found themselves confronted by a Turkish army.

Kilidge Arslan, who had retired to Iconium, which became the capital of his states, after the taking of Nice, had got together the remains of his army, and recruited his strength. The sultan of Mossoul, that same Kerboghâ who, three years before, had lost the battle of Antioch, had joined the son of Soliman, and burned to meet the Christians again.

Although they both had a considerable number of troops, they contented themselves, at first, with harassing the Crusaders in their march. Sometimes the infidels got before the Christians, and ravaged the country and filled up the wells and the cisterns; whilst at others, they laid ambushes for them, and massacred all who strayed away from the main body. The Christian army had suffered much in crossing the defiles of Paphlagonia; and fatigue, hunger, and thirst had greatly weakened the strength of the pilgrims, when the sultans of Mossoul and Iconium determined upon giving them battle on the banks of the Halys.

Raymond, before the engagement, caused the miraculous lance to be carried through the Christian ranks; whilst the archbishop of Milan, followed by his clergy, exhibited the arm of St. Ambrose, and offered up prayers for victory; but neither the prayers of the clergy, nor the sight of the holy lance, nor even the prodigies of valour displayed by the Crusaders, could secure them a triumph. After a sanguinary conflict, they retired to their camp in great disorder. The Turks, who had met with a determined resistance, did not at first dare to follow up their victory, and satisfied themselves with remaining masters of the field of battle, and plundering the dead. During the night the Crusaders became aware of the extent of their loss. Raymond and the other terrified leaders sought safety in flight. As soon as their absence was discovered, terror and despair pervaded the camp of the Christians; every one attempted to fly, abandoning the baggage, the sick and the wounded. The roads were soon covered with soldiers, women, and children, who embarrassed each other in their confusion, and were ignorant where they might meet with the enemy, or where they should look for the Christian army. The Turks, rendered aware of their victory by the cries and groans which resounded from the neighbouring mountains, hastened to the camp of the Crusaders, massacring or making prisoners all they met. They then hotly pursued the fugitives, slaughtering them without mercy. The darkness of the night added to the horrors of this scene of carnage. The pilgrims lost themselves in their confusion, and seemed to seek the swords they wished to avoid; others stopped exhausted by fatigue, and awaited death as an end of their calamities.

When day appeared, the country was covered with the bloody, plundered bodies of the Christians. Raymond de St. Gilles, the duke of Burgundy, the count of Chartres, the count of Blandras, and some other leaders who had fled by different routes, met at Sinope, where they could scarcely gather around them a few thousand men, the remains of an army which had counted under its standards more than a hundred thousand pilgrims.

A second army of Crusaders, led by the count de Nevers and the count de Bourges, advanced as far as Ancyra, and directed its course towards Heraclea.[209] This army looked for traces of that which had preceded it; but instead of finding the Christians, they soon met with the victorious army of the Turks, which came to meet them, attacked them, and routed them. The count de Nevers with great difficulty found refuge in Germanicopolis. Taking for guides some Greek soldiers, he was pillaged and abandoned by them in a desert. He went through the greatest dangers for several days; and, exhausted with fatigue and covered with rags, he at length arrived at Antioch, whither the news of his defeat had preceded him.

A third troop, composed, according to the authors of the time, of more than a hundred and fifty thousand pilgrims, set out from Constantinople under the orders of the count of Poictiers, the duke of Bavaria, and Hugh de Vermandois. They took possession of Philomelium and Samalia, and marched across devastated provinces towards the city of Stankon, where they expected to unite themselves with the army of the count de Nevers. It was before this city that the pilgrims heard of the disasters and defeat of the Christian armies that had preceded them. They advanced towards Heraclea, and were not long in meeting with the army of Kilidge Arslan, which was waiting for them in an advantageous position. As they had no longer anything to hope for except from their courage, they did not seek to avoid the enemy. A rivulet which separated the Christians from the infidels, was the signal and the theatre of battle. The Crusaders, pressed by thirst, rushed towards it in crowds. The Turks immediately discharged upon them a shower of javelins and arrows. The two armies were soon completely engaged; but the Christians fighting in a confined and marshy place, could neither draw up their forces nor make use of the lance or the sword. Their bravery and their efforts were of no avail against the skilful manœuvres of Kerboghâ and Kilidge Arslan. The Turks penetrated the Christian army everywhere; the carnage was horrible; scarcely a thousand of the Crusaders escaped from either death or slavery. The margravine of Austria disappeared amidst the tumult of the battle. Some say that she was crushed under the feet of the horses; whilst others assert that she fell into the hands of the enemy, and went to live and die in the harem of the sultan of Mossoul. The greater part of the women and young girls that followed the Christian army met with the same fate. The count of Vermandois, pierced by two arrows, fled across Lycaonia, and arrived with a feeble escort at the city of Tarsus, where he died of his wounds.

The duke of Bavaria and the count of Poictiers, after having wandered a long time in deserts and forests, arrived almost naked at Antioch, in which city were assembled all the Crusaders that had escaped after their defeat. The leaders, by gathering together the wrecks of their troops, were able to form an army of ten thousand men, with which they marched to Jerusalem. Whilst coasting the Sea of Syria, they took the city of Tortosa, which they gave up to Raymond, although they had accused him, only a few days before, of having been the cause of all their disasters. Upon their arrival in Palestine, they found new enemies to contend with. The duke of Burgundy[210] and the count of Blois were killed in a battle fought near Ramla. Arpin, count de Berri,[211] fell alive into the hands of the Saracens, and died in slavery. The count de Blandras, the count of Savoy, William, count of Poictiers, the count de Nevers, and the duke of Bavaria only led a small number of their soldiers back to Europe.[212]

Such are the principal events of the first crusade, the commencement and the end of which were marked by the greatest disasters, and which deprived Europe of more than a million of men. When we reflect on the energies displayed and the forces employed in this expedition by the West, we are at first astonished that it did not succeed.

It has often been repeated, when speaking of this holy war, in which the East beheld an army of six hundred thousand men brought against it, “that Alexander conquered Asia with thirty thousand men.” It is more than probable that the Greeks who wrote the life of Alexander have diminished the number of his forces in order to heighten the splendour of his victories;[213] but, be that as it may, it must be admitted that the expedition of the Macedonian conqueror did not present the same dangers, or the same obstacles that the Crusaders had to encounter. The armies which left Greece for Asia had less to suffer from change of climate, or the length and difficulties of the voyage than those who came from the extremities of the West. The Macedonians, in their invasion of the East, had scarcely any nation to contend with but the Persians, an effeminate people, previously several times vanquished by the Greeks; whilst the Crusaders had to pass through a crowd of unknown, barbarous hordes, and when arrived in Asia, found, as enemies, several nations of conquerors.

The Greeks of Alexander’s expedition did not go into Asia to introduce new laws, or change the manners and religion of the people; they even adopted something of the costumes and usages of the Persians, which very much facilitated their conquests.[214] In the crusades, on the contrary, we behold two religions armed one against the other, which redoubled the hatred of the combatants, and forbade all approximation. As soon as the standard of Mahomet floated over a city, the Christians fled from it; whilst the cross of the Christians had the same effect upon the Mussulmans. As the greater part of the Mussulman cities which fell into the hands of the Christians were deserted, the latter were obliged to people the provinces they conquered, and exhaust their armies, to found, in some sort, colonies wherever their arms triumphed. If it be allowed that no wars are more sanguinary than religious wars, there are certainly none in which it is more difficult for a conqueror to extend or preserve his conquests. This is a very important observation, if we would appreciate the results of this crusade.

On all occasions where bravery alone was required, nothing can be comparable to the exploits of the Crusaders. When reduced to a small number of combatants, they triumphed no less over their enemies than when they consisted of vast armies. Forty thousand Christians obtained possession of Jerusalem, defended by a garrison of sixty thousand Saracens. There remained scarcely twenty thousand men under their standards, when they had to contend with all the forces of the East in the plains of Ascalon. If Alexander performed greater things, and particularly if he conquered a greater number of nations, it was because he commanded a disciplined army, of which he was the absolute leader. All his military and political operations were directed by one same mind and one same will. It was not thus in the army of the Crusaders, which was composed of many nations, and held within itself the fatal germs of license and disorder. The feudal anarchy with which Europe was then distracted followed the defenders of the cross into Asia, and that turbulent spirit of the knights, which constantly led them to have recourse to arms, was precisely that which checked and bounded their conquests.

When we think of their ever reviving discords, of the calamities which were the consequences of them, of that excess of bravery that made them commit so many faults, of that want of foresight which they almost always evinced on the eve of great dangers, one thing alone surprises us, and that is, that they did not entirely fail in their enterprise.

Philosophy may, with some justice, oppose its reasonings to the marvels of this war; but she will find in it an abundant source of profound and new observations. In it she will see man with his inexplicable contrasts; in it she will meet with the passions, with all that characterizes them, with all they possess that most plainly exhibits the human heart and mind. Reason, without doubt, must deplore the disorders, the excesses, and the delirium of the Crusaders; but such is human weakness, that we always interest ourselves in great events wherein man is fully developed.

The imagination of the most indifferent must be struck with the instances of heroism which the history of the crusades abounds in. If many of the scenes of this great epoch excite our indignation or our pity, how many of the events fill us with admiration and surprise! How many names, rendered illustrious by this war, are still the pride of families and nations! That which is perhaps most positive in the results of the first crusade, is the glory of our fathers,—that glory which is also a real good for a country; for great remembrances found the existence of nations as well as families, and are the most noble sources of patriotism.

In remotest antiquity, one of those passions which sometimes act upon a whole people, precipitated Greece upon Asia. This war, famous and rich in exploits, inflamed the imagination of the Greeks, and was for a great length of time celebrated in their temples and upon their stage. If great national remembrances inspire us with the same enthusiasm, if we entertain as strong a respect as the ancients for the memory of our ancestors, the conquest of the Holy Land must be for us as glorious and memorable an epoch as the war of Troy was for the people of Greece. These two wars, however different in their motives, present almost the same results to the enlightened observer; both offer grand lessons to policy and illustrious models to valour; both founded new states, new colonies, and established relations between distant nations. Both had a marked influence upon the civilization of the ages that followed them: both, in short, developed great passions and fine characters, and thus furnished the happiest subjects for the epic muse, who delights only in celebrating prodigies and wonders.

When comparing these two memorable wars, and the poetical masterpieces that have celebrated them, we cannot but think that the subject of the “Jerusalem Delivered” is more wonderful than that of the “Iliad.” We may still further say, that the heroes of Tasso are more interesting than those of Homer, and their exploits less fabulous. The cause which armed the Greeks was much less important than that which actuated the Christians. The latter, in some sort, took up arms for the assistance of misfortune and oppressed weakness. They went to defend a religion able to make them sensible of ills that were endured far from them, and to make them find brothers in regions unknown to them. This character of sociability is not to be found in any belief of the ancients.

The Crusaders exhibited another spectacle with which antiquity was unacquainted—the union of religious humility with the love of glory. History shows us constantly these haughty heroes, the terror of Asia and the Mussulmans, bending their victorious brows to the dust, and marching from conquest to conquest, covered with the sack of penitence. The priests, who exhorted them in battle, only raised their courage by reproaching them with their sins. When they met with reverses, a thousand voices were raised among them to accuse their own misconduct; and when they were victorious, it was God alone that gave them the victory, and religion forbade their claiming glory from it.[215]

The historian may be permitted to think that this difference between the heroes of the “Iliad” and those of the holy war is not sufficiently marked in the poem of “Jerusalem Delivered.”[216] Another reproach may likewise be addressed to the bard of Rinaldo and Godfrey; the ideas of magic and gallantry which he has too freely lavished upon his poem are not in accordance with the truth of history. Magic, which is nothing but a sort of degenerated superstition, and which only deals with small things, was but little known to the Crusaders. Their superstition, however gross, had something noble and grand in it, which associated them sufficiently with the spirit of the epopée, without the poet having anything to alter; their character and manners were grave and austere, and exceedingly well suited to the dignity of a religious epic. It was not till long after the first crusade that magic formed any part of the superstition of the Franks, or that their warlike manners abandoned the prominently epic character which distinguished them, to adopt the romantic character which they have preserved in all books of chivalry. It appears to us that we discover in Tasso much more of the manners of the times in which he lived than of those of the end of the eleventh century, the period of the events which form the subject of his poem.

But it does not enter into the plan or the object of this work to carry such observations further.[217] After having spoken of the heroic deeds and of all that was wonderful in the first crusade, I will turn my attention to the immediate effects it produced upon Europe and Asia. We are sufficiently well acquainted with the evils by which it was followed; great disasters are the familiar subjects of history, but the slow and almost insensible progress of the good that may result from a great revolution, is much less easily perceived.

The first result of this crusade was to carry terror among the Mussulman nations, and to place it out of their power to undertake for a length of time any warlike enterprises against the West. Thanks to the victories of the Crusaders, the Greek empire extended its limits, and Constantinople, which was the road to the West for the Saracens, was rendered safe from their attacks. In this distant expedition Europe lost the flower of its population, but it was not, as Asia was, the theatre of a bloody and disastrous war; of a war in which nothing was respected, in which provinces and cities were, by turns, ravaged by the conquerors and the conquered. Whilst the warriors of Europe were shedding their blood on the plains of the East, the West remained in profound peace. Among Christian nations it was then considered a crime to take up arms for any other cause than that of Jesus Christ. This opinion contributed greatly to check the frightful brigandage that had prevailed, and to increase respect for _the truce of God_, which was, in the middle ages, the germ or the signal of the best institutions. Whatever were the reverses of the crusades, they were less deplorable than the civil wars and the scourges of feudal anarchy that had so long ravaged all the countries of the West.

This first crusade produced other advantages to Europe.[218] The East, by the holy war, was in some sort laid open to the West, which, before, was but little acquainted with it; the Mediterranean became more frequented by European vessels, navigation made some progress, and commerce, particularly that of the Pisans and Genoese, must have been increased and enriched by the foundation of the kingdom of Jerusalem. A great part, it is true, of the gold and silver of Europe was carried into Asia by the Crusaders; but these treasures, heaped up and concealed by avarice and fear, had been long abstracted from circulation; the gold which was not carried away by the Crusaders circulated more freely, and Europe, with a less quantity of money, appeared all at once more rich than it had ever been.

We cannot perceive, whatever may have been asserted, that in the first crusade Europe received any great quantity of knowledge from the East. During the eleventh century, Asia had been the theatre of the most sanguinary revolutions. At this period the Saracens, but more particularly the Turks, cultivated neither the arts nor the sciences. The Crusaders had no other relation with them but a war of extermination. On another side, the Franks held the Greek among whom, besides, the arts and sciences were declining, in too much contempt to borrow any kind of instruction from them; nevertheless, as the events of the crusade had strongly affected the imagination of nations, this great and imposing spectacle was sufficient to give an impetus to the human mind in the West. Several writers undertook to trace the history of this memorable period. Raymond d’Agiles, Robert the monk of St. Remy, Tudebode, Foulcher de Chartres, Abbot Guibert, Baudry, the bishop of Dol, and Albert d’Aix were contemporary historians, and most of them ocular witnesses of the conquests and exploits they have described. The histories they have left us are not destitute of merit, and some of them are even better than that which was written of the same kind among either the Greeks or the Arabs. These writers were animated in their labours by the same spirit of piety which governed the heroes of the cross. This spirit of piety caused them to take up the pen, and persuaded them that they wrote for the cause of God. They would have thought themselves wanting in their duty as Christians, if they had not employed their abilities in transmitting the events of the holy war to posterity. In whatever manner we judge of their motives, we cannot avoid being convinced that they have rendered great services to history, and that without them the heroic times of our annals would have remained without monuments.

The wonderful portion of the character of this first crusade likewise awakened the epic muse. Raoul de Caen,[219] who, in his history, sometimes sounds the epic trumpet in order worthily to celebrate the “gestes” of Tancred, is not deficient in either warmth or fancy. The conquest of Jerusalem was during the twelfth century the subject of several works in verse. A Limousin knight, Geoffrey de la Tour, called the prior or abbot of the Vigeois, described very tolerably the events of these wars in a large volume all written in his maternal tongue, and in vulgar rhyme, in order that the people might understand it the better. This poem, written in verse, which was the fruit of the labour of twelve years, is lost. Many other similar works have doubtless shared the same fate; but that which remains suffices to prove that human intelligence began to expand at the commencement of the twelfth century.

Before this period, the science of legislation, which is the first and most important of all, had made but very little progress. Some cities of Italy and the provinces near the Pyrenees, where the Goths had encouraged the Roman laws, alone exhibited glimmerings of civilization. Among the rules and ordinances that Gaston de Béarn laid down before his departure for the Holy Land, are to be found many points and particulars which deserve to be preserved by history, because they exhibit the feeble beginnings of a legislation which time and fortunate circumstances would perfect. _Peace_, says this legislator of the eleventh century, _shall be observed at all times towards clerks, monks, travellers, and ladies and their suite.—If any one takes refuge in the abode of a lady, he shall enjoy security of person, on paying all loss or consequent injury. Let the peasant live in peace; let his cattle and agricultural instruments be exempt from seizure._[220] These benevolent dispositions were inspired by the spirit of chivalry, which had made some progress in the wars against the Saracens of Spain; they were particularly the works of the councils[221] which undertook to put a stop to private wars and the excess of feudal anarchy. The holy wars beyond the seas finished that which chivalry had begun, they perfected chivalry itself. The council of Clermont and the crusade that followed it only developed and consolidated all which preceding councils, all that the wisest lords and princes, had done for the cause of humanity.

Many of the princes of the crusades, such as the duke of Brittany and Robert count of Flanders, signalized their return by establishing wise regulations. A few salutary institutions began to displace the violent abuses of feudalism, and there might be seen, at least in some provinces, what a regime founded by the sword could exhibit of a moderate kind in its legislation.

It was in France that these changes were most obvious, because France had taken the greatest part in the crusade. Many nobles emancipated their serfs upon their following them in this expedition. Giraud and Giraudet Adhemar de Monthiel, who followed their brother, the bishop of Puy, to the holy war, to encourage and reward some of their vassals, by whom they were accompanied, granted them several fiefs by an act drawn up in the same year as the taking of Jerusalem. We might quote many similar acts made during the crusade and in the first year that followed it. Liberty awaited in the West the small number that returned from the holy war, who seemed to acknowledge no other master but Jesus Christ.

In this crusade the nobility lost some portion of a power which they had abused, but they had more splendour and were held in greater honour. The king of France, although for a long time obnoxious to the censures of the Church, and although he did not distinguish himself by any great personal qualities, had a more tranquil and prosperous reign than his predecessors; he began to shake off the yoke of the great vassals of the crown, of whom several were ruined or perished in the holy war. We have often repeated that the crusade placed great wealth in the hands of the clergy; but we must likewise add, that the clergy composed the most enlightened part of the nation, and that this increase of prosperity was in the nature of things. After the first crusade, was seen that which is always to be observed in all nations that are progressing in civilization. Power had a tendency to centralize itself in the hands of him who protected liberty. Glory became the reward of all who were called upon to defend their country; consideration and riches took a direction towards that class from which intelligence was to be expected.

It is certain that knowledge arose in Europe among the clergy, and that they alone were able to consecrate in some way many of the salutary results of the crusades. As long as the clergy powerfully assisted the progress of civilization, they preserved their wealth; as soon as they went beyond civilization, they lost it. This is the course of things on earth. As long as institutions are favourable to society, society reveres them;[222] when under some relations they are esteemed less useful, they lose their importance. Without any necessity for declamation, we must leave the ingratitude natural to nations to take its course, as we must their inconstancy, and to time; which are but too powerful in destroying instruments which society has employed with some advantage.

Many cities of Italy had arrived at a certain degree of civilization before the first crusade; but this civilization, born in the midst of a barbarous age, and spread amongst some isolated nations divided among themselves, had no power to attain maturity. For civilization to produce the salutary effects it is capable of, everything must at the same time, have a tendency to the same perfection. Knowledge, laws, morals, power, all must proceed together. This is what has happened in France;[223] therefore must France one day become the model and centre of civilization in Europe. The holy wars contributed much to this happy revolution, which may be seen even in the first crusade.