Volume 1 / Book 3 — BOOK III. (continued 2)

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.

After this memorable day the Turks made scarcely any effort to impede the march of the Christians. This last triumph of the Franks appeared to them like a decision of heaven that men ought not to contend against. Most of the emirs of Syria who had shared the spoils of the sultan of Persia, considered the invasion of the Christians as a passing calamity, without thinking of the consequences it might leave behind, and only sought to take advantage of it to assure their own domination and independence. The dynasty of the Seljoucides was every day losing its strength and its splendour. The vast empire of Togrul, Alp-Arslan, and Malek-Scha was crumbling away on all sides amidst civil and foreign wars. This empire, created towards the middle of the eleventh century, whose sudden increase had alarmed Constantinople and carried terror even among the nations of the West, was soon doomed to see other states elevate themselves upon its ruins; for, according to the remark of an historian, it might be said that God was pleased to show how insignificant the earth is in his eyes, by thus causing to pass from hand to hand, like a child’s toy, a power so monstrous as to threaten the universe.

The first care of the Crusaders after their victory was to put, if we may say so, Jesus Christ in possession of the countries they had just conquered, by re-establishing his worship in Antioch. The capital of Syria had all at once a new religion, and was inhabited by a new people. A considerable part of the spoils of the Saracens was employed in repairing and ornamenting the churches which had been converted into mosques. The Greeks and the Latins mingled their vows and their hymns, and prayed together to the God of the Christians to conduct them to Jerusalem. The leaders of the army then joined in addressing a letter to the princes and nations of the West, in which they made a relation of their labours and their exploits. That they might not trouble the joy that the news of their victories must create, they took care to conceal the losses they had sustained;[131] but they must have made them apparent by calling new warriors to their aid. They solicited by prayers, and even by threats, the immediate departure of all who had assumed the cross, and yet still remained in the West.

The Crusaders sent at the same time an embassy to Constantinople, composed of Hugh, count of Vermandois, and Baldwin, count of Hainault. The object of this embassy was to remind the emperor Alexius of the promise he had made to accompany the Christians with an army to Jerusalem. The count of Hainault perished, with all his train, in Asia Minor. The count of Vermandois, who took a different route, arrived safely at Constantinople; but could obtain nothing from Alexius. Hereupon, whether he was ashamed of having failed in his mission, or whether he feared to rejoin an army in which he could not maintain the splendour of his rank, he determined to return to Europe, where his desertion caused him to be compared to the raven of the ark.[132]

Some days after the battle of Antioch, the greater part of the pilgrims entreated the leaders to conduct them towards the Holy City, the principal object of their expedition. The council of the princes and barons being assembled, the opinions were at first divided. Some of the leaders thought that they ought to take advantage of the terror which the victory of Antioch had created in the Saracens. “Both the East and the West,” said they, “have their eyes upon us; Christ calls us to the deliverance of his tomb; the Christians who still groan in the chains of the infidels implore the assistance of our arms; we have seen the emir of Jerusalem, and the soldiers who ought to defend the approach to the Holy Sepulchre, fly before us; all the routes are open to us; let us hasten then to comply with the impatience of the Crusaders, an impatience which was always so fatal to our enemies; let us depart from an abode whose pleasures have several times corrupted the soldiers of Christ; let us not wait till discord shall disturb our peace and rob us of the fruits of our labours.”

This advice seemed to be dictated by wisdom and prudence, but the majority of the leaders were full of blind security; they could not resolve still to dread enemies they had so often conquered, and the hopes of extending their conquests in Syria made them forget Jerusalem. Specious reasons were not wanting wherewith to combat the opinions they had heard. The Christian army was deficient in horses; it was exhausted by fatigue, by long miseries, and even by its own victories. As it was now the height of summer, though the Crusaders might have no enemies, they had to dread during a long march the want of water, and the heat of both the season and the climate. It was well known that new warriors from the West were expected in Asia, and prudence commanded them to wait for them. By the beginning of winter everything would be prepared for the conquest of Jerusalem, and the united Crusaders would then march without obstacles or dangers towards Palestine. This opinion obtained a majority of the suffrages.

The Crusaders had soon cause to repent of their determination. An epidemic disease made fearful ravages in their army. Nothing was to be seen in Antioch, says an ancient chronicle, but buryings and funerals, and death there reigned, neither more nor less, than in some great battle or defeat. Most of the women and the poor who followed the army were the first victims to this calamity. A great number of Crusaders who came from Germany and other parts of Europe met with death immediately on their arrival at Antioch. Within one month, more than fifty thousand pilgrims perished by this epidemic.[133] The Christians had to regret among their leaders Henry d’Asques, Renaud d’Amerbach, and several other knights renowned for their exploits. In the midst of the general mourning, the bishop of Puy, who comforted the Crusaders in their misery, himself gave way under his fatigue and died,[134] like the leader of the Hebrews, without having seen the promised land. His remains were buried in the church of St. Peter of Antioch, in the very spot where the miraculous lance had been discovered. All the pilgrims, whose spiritual father he had been, honoured his funeral with their presence and their tears. The leaders, who sincerely regretted him, wrote to the pope to inform him of the death of his apostolic legate. They at the same time solicited Urban to come and place himself at their head, to sanctify the standards of the crusade, and to promote union and peace in the army of Jesus Christ.

But neither the respect they entertained for the memory of Adhemar, nor the spectacle of the scourge which was devouring the Christian army, could close their hearts against ambition and discord. The count of Thoulouse, who still maintained his claims to the possession of Antioch, refused to deliver up to Bohemond the citadel of which he had become master on the day the Christians had defeated the army of Kerboghâ. These two haughty rivals were several times on the point of coming to blows, Raymond accusing the new prince of Antioch of having usurped that which belonged to his companions, whilst Bohemond threatened to bathe his sword, red with the blood of infidels, in blood which he said he had too long spared. One day that the princes and leaders were assembled in the basilica of the church of St. Peter, engaged in regulating the affairs of the crusade, their deliberations were disturbed by the most violent quarrels. Notwithstanding the sanctity of the place, Raymond, in the midst of the council, gave way to his passion and resentment. Even at the foot of the altar of Christ, Bohemond hesitated not to make false promises in order to draw the other chiefs to his party, and repeated several times an oath which he never meant to keep, that of following them to Jerusalem.

Every day trouble and disorder increased in the Christian army, some only thinking of aggrandising the states which victory had given them, whilst others wandered about Syria in search of cities over which they might unfurl their standards. Bands were seen dispersed in all parts where there was a chance of a rich booty, fighting among themselves for their conquests when they were victorious, and a prey to all sorts of horrors and miseries when they met with unforeseen resistance. The jealousy which prevailed among the chiefs extended to the soldiers; the latter quarrelling for the booty gained from the enemy, in the same manner that the princes and barons contended for the possession of cities and provinces. Those whom fortune had not favoured complained of their companions, until some lucky chance allowed them in their turn to take advantage of all the rights of victory. On all sides the Crusaders accused each other reciprocally of having enriched themselves by injustice and violence, although everybody envied the most guilty.

And yet, amidst their conflicts or their misfortunes, the Christians continued to show the most heroic bravery and resignation; they endured hunger, thirst, and fatigue without a complaint, and neither deserts, rivers, precipices, the heat of the climate, nor any other obstacle, could stop them in their incursions. In every kind of peril they sought all opportunities of proving their strength and skill, or of signalizing their valour. Sometimes in the forests or mountains they encountered savage animals. A French knight, named Guicher, rendered himself celebrated in the army by overcoming a lion. Another knight, Geoffrey de la Tour, gained great renown by an action which doubtless will appear incredible. He one day saw in a forest a lion which a serpent held within its monstrous folds, and which made the air resound with his roaring. Geoffrey flew to the assistance of the animal, which appeared to implore his pity, and with one blow of his sword killed the serpent, which was intent upon its prey. If we may believe an old chronicle, the lion thus delivered attached himself to his liberator as to a master; he accompanied him during the war, and when, after the taking of Jerusalem, the Crusaders embarked to return into Europe, he was drowned in the sea whilst following the vessel in which Geoffrey was.[135]

Several Crusaders, whilst waiting for the signal of departure for Jerusalem, went to visit their brethren who had established themselves in the conquered cities. Many of them repaired to Baldwin, and joined with him in contending against the Saracens of Mesopotamia. A knight, named Foulque, who went with several of his companions to seek adventures on the banks of the Euphrates, was surprised and massacred by the Turks. His wife, whom he had taken with him, was brought before the emir of Hazart or Hezas. Being of rare beauty, one of the principal officers of the emir fell in love with her,[136] and asked her of his master in marriage, who yielded her to him, and permitted him to espouse her. This officer, deeply in love with a Christian woman, avoided all occasions of fighting against the Crusaders, and yet, zealous in the service of his master the emir, made incursions into the territories of the sultan of Aleppo. Redowan, wishing to avenge himself, marched with an army of forty thousand men to attack the city of Hezas. Then the officer who had married the widow of Foulque advised the emir to implore the assistance of the Christians.

The emir proposed an alliance to Godfrey de Bouillon. Godfrey at first hesitated, but the Mussulman returned to the charge, and to disperse all the suspicions of the Christian princes, sent them his son Mahomet as an hostage. The treaty was then signed, and two pigeons, says a Latin historian, charged with a letter, brought the news to the emir, at the same time announcing to him the early arrival of the Christians.[137] The army of the sultan of Aleppo was beaten in several encounters by Godfrey, and forced to abandon the territory of Hezas, that it had begun to pillage. A short time after this expedition the son of the emir died at Antioch of the epidemic so fatal to the pilgrims of the West. Godfrey, according to the custom of the Mussulmans, had the body of the young prince enveloped in rich purple stuff, and sent it to his father. The deputies who accompanied this funeral convoy were ordered to express to the emir the regrets of Godfrey, and to tell him that their leader had been as much afflicted by the death of the young prince Mahomet, as he could have been by that of his brother Baldwin. The emir of Hezas wept for the death of his son, and never ceased to be the faithful ally of the Christians.

The leaders of the crusades still thought no more about setting forward on their march to Jerusalem, and the autumn advanced without their being engaged in any expedition of importance. In the midst of the idleness of the camps, a celestial phenomenon offered itself to the eyes of the Crusaders, and made a lively impression upon the minds of the multitude. The soldiers who guarded the ramparts of Antioch saw during the night a luminous mass, which appeared to be fixed in an elevated point of the heavens. It seemed as if all the stars, according to the expression o£ Albert d’Aix, were united in a space scarcely more extensive than a garden of three acres. “These stars,” says the same historian, “shed the most brilliant light,[138] and shone like coals in a furnace.” They appeared for a long time as if suspended over the city of Antioch; but the circle which seemed to contain them being broken, they dispersed in the air. At the sight of this prodigy, the guards and sentinels uttered loud cries, and ran to awaken the citizens of Antioch. All the pilgrims issued from their houses, and found in this phenomenon a manifest sign of the will of Heaven. Some believed they saw in the united stars an image of the Saracens, who were assembled at Jerusalem, and who would be dispersed at the approach of the Christians; others, equally full of hope, saw in them the Christian warriors uniting their victorious forces, and then spreading themselves over the earth to conquer the cities ravished from the empire of Christ; but many of the pilgrims did not abandon themselves to these consolatory illusions. In a city where the people had much to suffer, and had dwelt during many months amidst death and its funeral rites, the future naturally presented itself under the most sad and disheartening colours. All who suffered, and had lost the hope of ever seeing Jerusalem, saw nothing in the phenomenon presented to their eyes but an alarming symbol of the multitude of pilgrims, which was every day diminishing, and which promised soon to be entirely dispersed, like the luminous clouds which they had seen in the heavens. “Things, however,” says Albert d’Aix, “turned out much better than was expected; for, a short time afterwards, the princes, on their return to Antioch, took the field, and brought under their dominion several cities of Upper Syria.”

The most important of their expeditions was the siege and capture of Maarah, situated between Hamath and Aleppo. Raymond was the first to sit himself down before this city, where he was soon joined by the duke of Normandy and the count of Flanders and their troops. The Christians met with the most obstinate resistance from the besieged during several days. The infidels poured arrows and stones upon them in clouds, together with floods of an inflammable matter, which several historians pretend to have been the Greek fire. William of Tyre says that they hurled from the summits of the towers upon the assailants quick lime and hives filled with bees.[139] Want of provisions soon began to be felt, and the Crusaders at length experienced such distress, that many among them subsisted upon the dead bodies of their enemies.[140] History ought, however, to relate with hesitation the extremes to which famine is said to have carried them, and to throw great doubt upon the account of the public sale of human flesh in the camp of the Christians.[141]

The Crusaders endured all their misfortunes with patience, but they could not support the outrages committed by the inhabitants of Maarah upon the religion of Jesus Christ. The infidels raised crosses upon the ramparts, covered them with ordure, and heaped all sorts of insults upon them. This sight so irritated the Christians, that they resolved to redouble their efforts to get possession of the city. They constructed machines which shook the walls, whilst the soldiers mounted to the assault; and they succeeded, after a lengthened resistance, in making themselves masters of the towers and the ramparts. As they were overtaken by night in the midst of their victory, they did not venture to penetrate into the place; and when, with the break of day, they spread themselves through the streets, not a sound was to be heard,—every part of the city was deserted. The army pillaged the uninhabited houses, but soon discovered, to their great surprise, that the whole population of Maarah had taken refuge in subterranean places. A large quantity of straw, set on fire at the mouths of the caverns in which the infidels were concealed, soon forced them to issue from their retreats, and such was the animosity of the conquerors, that the bewildered and trembling multitude implored their pity in vain. All the inhabitants of Maarah were either put to the sword or led into slavery; the city was completely razed to the ground, “which so terrified the neighbouring cities,” says an historian, “that of their own free will, and without force, they surrendered to the Crusaders.”

This conquest became the subject of fresh discord. Bohemond, who had come to the siege, was desirous of keeping a portion of the city, whilst Raymond pretended to reign over Maarah as its sovereign. The debate grew warm; the camp of the Christians was filled with confusion and factions, and the Crusaders were very near shedding their own blood to ascertain who should be master of a city which they had just entirely deprived of inhabitants, and given up to pillage. “But God, who was the leader of this great enterprise,” says le Père Maimbourg, “repaired by the zeal of the weak and the lowly that which the passions of the great and the wise of this world had destroyed.” The soldiers at length became indignant at the thoughts of shedding, for miserable quarrels, the blood which they had sworn to dedicate to a sacred cause. Whilst they were most loud in their complaints and murmurs, the report reached them that Jerusalem had fallen into the hands of the Egyptians: they had taken advantage of the defeat of the Turks, and of the unfortunate delay of the Christian army in their invasion of Palestine. This news redoubled the discontent of the Crusaders, and they loudly accused Raymond and their other leaders of having betrayed the cause of God. They announced their intention of choosing fresh leaders, who should have no other ambition but that of accomplishing their vows, and would conduct the Christian army to the Holy Land.

The count of St. Gilles and the prince of Antioch, the latter of whom was, perhaps, no stranger to the general movement, went through the ranks, and addressed the soldiers, the one upon the necessity of obedience, the other upon the glory which awaited them at Jerusalem. The tumult soon became more violent. The clergy menaced Raymond with the anger of Heaven, whilst his soldiers threatened to abandon his standard. The Provençals themselves at length refused to obey the inflexible count of Thoulouse, and the army set seriously to work to demolish the ramparts of Maarah, the possession of which was the object of contention.

Whilst this was going on, Tancred had, by either force or address, got possession of the citadel of Antioch, and planted the standard of Bohemond in place of that of the count of St. Gilles. Raymond, thus left alone, and without any hopes of realizing his pretensions, was obliged to yield to the wishes of the army, and appeared to listen to the voice of God. After having set fire to the city of Maarah, he marched out of it by the light of the flames, barefooted, and shedding tears of repentance. Followed by the clergy, who sang the psalms of penitence, he abjured his ambition, and renewed the oath he had so often made, and so often forgotten, of delivering the tomb of Jesus Christ.