The immediate effects of the council of Clermont are detailed with so much animation by Guibert of Nogent, that I shall attempt to trace them nearly in his own words, merely observing, that previous to his departure from France, Urban II., having taken every means in his power to secure the property of the crusaders during their absence, committed the chief direction of the expedition to Adhemar, Bishop of Puy, in Auvergne.[107]

“As soon as the council of Clermont was concluded,” says the historian, “a great rumour spread through the whole of France, and as soon as fame brought the news of the orders of the pontiff to any one, he went instantly to solicit his neighbours and his relations to engage with him in the way of God, for so they designated the purposed expedition.

“The Counts Palatine[108] were already full of the desire to undertake this journey; and all the knights of an inferior order felt the same zeal. The poor themselves soon caught the flame so ardently, that no one paused to think of the smallness of his wealth, or to consider whether he ought to yield his house and his fields, and his vines; but each one set about selling his property, at as low a price as if he had been held in some horrible captivity, and sought to pay his ransom without loss of time.

“At this period, too, there existed a general dearth. The rich even felt the want of corn; and many, with every thing to buy, had nothing, or next to nothing, wherewithal to purchase what they needed. The poor tried to nourish themselves with the wild herbs of the earth; and, as bread was very dear, sought on all sides food heretofore unknown, to supply the place of corn. The wealthy and powerful were not exempt; but finding themselves menaced with the famine which spread around them, and beholding every day the terrible wants of the poor, they contracted their expenses, and lived with the most narrow parsimony, lest they should squander the riches now become so necessary.

“The ever insatiable misers rejoiced in days so favourable to their covetousness; and casting their eyes upon the bushels of grain which they had hoarded long before, calculated each day the profits of their avarice. Thus some struggled with every misery and want, while others revelled in the hopes of fresh acquisitions. No sooner, however, had Christ inspired, as I have said, innumerable bodies of people to seek a voluntary exile, than the money which had been hoarded so long was spread forth in a moment; and that which was horribly dear while all the world was in repose, was on a sudden sold for nothing, as soon as every one began to hasten towards their destined journey. Each man hurried to conclude his affairs; and, astonishing to relate, we then saw—so sudden was the diminution in the value of every thing—we then saw seven sheep sold for five deniers. The dearth of grain, also, was instantly changed into abundance; and every one, occupied solely in amassing money for his journey, sold every thing that he could, not according to its real worth, but according to the value set upon it by the buyer.

“In the mean while, the greater part of those who had not determined upon the journey, joked and laughed at those who were thus selling their goods for whatever they could get; and prophesied that their voyage would be miserable, and their return worse. Such was ever the language one day; but the next—suddenly seized with the same desire as the rest—those who had been most forward to mock, abandoned every thing for a few crowns, and set out with those whom they had laughed at but a day before. Who shall tell the children and the infirm that, animated with the same spirit, hastened to the war? Who shall count the old men and the young maids who hurried forward to the fight?—not with the hope of aiding, but for the crown of martyrdom to be won amid the swords of the infidels. ‘You, warriors,’ they cried, ‘you shall vanquish by the spear and brand; but let us, at least, conquer Christ by our sufferings.’ At the same time, one might see a thousand things springing from the same spirit, which were both astonishing and laughable: the poor shoeing their oxen, as we shoe horses, and harnessing them to two-wheeled carts, in which they placed their scanty provisions and their young children; and proceeding onward, while the babes, at each town or castle that they saw, demanded eagerly whether that was Jerusalem.”

Such is the picture presented, by an eyewitness, of the state of France after the first promulgation of the crusade; and a most extraordinary picture it is. The zeal, the enthusiasm, the fervour of the spirit, the brutal ignorance and dark barbarity of the people, are the objects that catch the eye from the mere surface; but underneath may be seen a hundred fine and latent tints which mingle in the portrait of the age. There may be found the hope of gain and the expectation of wealth in other lands, as well as the excitement of devotion; and there also may be traced the reckless, daring courage of a period when comfort was unknown, and when security was scarcely less to be expected among the swords of the Saracens, than in the fields of France and Germany. While the thirst of adventure, the master-passion of the middle ages, prompted to any change of scene and circumstances, imagination portrayed the land in view with all that adventitious splendour which none—of all the many betrayers of the human mind—so well knows how to bestow as hope.

The same land, when the Jews marched towards it from the wilderness, had been represented to them as a land flowing with milk and honey,—rich in all gifts; and doubtless that inducement moved the stubborn Hebrews, as much as the command of him they had so often disobeyed. Now the very same prospect was held out to another host of men, as ignorant of what lay before them as the Jews themselves; and it may be fairly supposed that, in their case too, imaginary hopes, and all the gay phantasma of ambition, shared powerfully with religion in leading them onward to the promised land.

Still zeal, and sympathy, and indignation, and chivalrous feeling, and the thirst of glory, and the passion for enterprise, and a thousand vague but great and noble aspirations, mingled in the complicated motive of the crusade. It increased by contagion; it grew by communion; it spread from house to house, and from bosom to bosom; it became a universal desire—an enthusiasm—a passion—a madness.

In the mean while, the crusade was not without producing a sensible benefit even to Europe. The whole country had previously been desolated by feuds[109] and pillage, and massacre. Castle waged war with castle: baron plundered baron; and from field to field, and city to city, the traveller could scarcely pass without injury or death. No sooner,[110] however, had the crusade been preached at the council of Clermont, than the universal peace, which was there commanded, called the Truce[111] of God, was sworn throughout the country, the plunder ceased and the feuds disappeared. The very fact of the wicked, the infamous, and the bloodthirsty having embraced the crusade, either from penitence or from worse motives, was a positive good to Europe. That not alone the good,[112] the religious, the zealous, or the brave, filled the ranks of the Cross is admitted on all hands; yet those who had once assumed that holy sign were obliged, in some degree, to act as if their motives had been pure, and their very absence was a blessing to the land they left.

Still the crusade went on; and the imagination of the people being once directed towards a particular object found, even in the phenomena which in former days would have struck nations with fear and apprehension, signs of blessing and omens of success. An earthquake itself[113] was held as good augury; and scarcely a meteor shot across the sky without affording some theme for hope.

The sign of the Cross was now to be seen on the shoulder of every one; and being generally cut in red[114] cloth, was a conspicuous and remarkable object. As these multiplied, the hearts even of the fearful grew strong, and the contagion of example added to the number every hour. Peter the Hermit, indefatigable in his calling, though his mind seems day by day[115] to have become more excited, till enthusiasm grew nearly akin to madness, gathered a vast concourse of the lower orders, and prepared to set out by the way of Hungary. But the real and serviceable body of crusaders was collected from among another class, whose military habits and chivalrous character were well calculated to effect the great object proposed.

In France, Hugh, the brother of King Philip, Robert, Count of Flanders, Stephen, Count of Chartres and Blois, Adhemar, Bishop of Puy, William, Bishop of Orange, Raimond, Count of Toulouse, and many others of the highest station, assumed the Cross, and called together all the knights and retainers that their great names and influence could bring into the field. Robert, Duke of Normandy, son of William the Conqueror of England, accompanied by a number of English barons, prepared also for the crusade. Godfrey of Loraine, and his brothers were added to the number; and Boemond, Prince of Tarento, the valiant son of Robert Guiscard, cast from him the large possessions which his sword and that of his father had conquered, and turned his hopes and expectations towards the east.

The immense multitudes thus assembled are said to have amounted to nearly six millions of souls;[116] and one of the most astonishing proofs of the rapidity with which the news of the crusade must have spread, and the enthusiasm with which it was received, is to be found in the fact, that the council of Clermont was held in the November of the year 1095, and that early in the spring of 1096 a large body of the crusaders was in motion towards Palestine.

The historians of the day are not at all agreed in regard to which was the multitude that led the way towards the Holy Land. It appears[117] almost certain, however, that Gautier sans avoir, or Walter the Penniless, a Burgundian gentleman, without fortune, who had assembled a considerable band of the lower classes under the banner of the Cross, was the first who set out in compliance with the general vow. He was, according to all accounts, a complete soldier of fortune, renowned for his poverty even to a proverb, but by no means, as has been asserted, without military fame. All[118] the contemporary writers designate him by his cognomen of poverty; but all at the same time describe him as an illustrious warrior. Nevertheless, the host that he led was rather an ill-governed crowd of men on foot than an army; and but eight knights accompanied the leader on his expedition. The difficulties of the undertaking were incalculable; and the followers of Walter had provided but little for the necessities of the way. It showed, however, no small skill in that leader to conduct the disorderly rabble by which he was followed, so far as he did in safety.

Passing through Germany,[119] he entered into Hungary; where, entangled among the marshes and passes of that kingdom, his whole followers must have perished inevitably, had he not met with the greatest kindness and assistance from the king and people of the country, who, professing the Christian religion, understood and venerated the motives of the crusade.

Thus the host of Walter swept on till their arrival at Semlin, where some stragglers were attacked and plundered by a party of Hungarians less humane than their brethren. The arms and crosses of the crusaders who had thus been despoiled, were fixed upon the walls of the city as a sort of trophy; but Walter, though strongly urged by his followers to seek vengeance for the insult, wisely forbore and passing forward, entered into Bulgaria. Here the champions of the Cross met with no further aid. The people regarded them with jealous suspicion; the cities shut their gates upon them; all commerce was prohibited, and all supplies denied.

Famine now imperiously urged them to violence; and having taken possession of whatever flocks and herds they could find, the crusaders soon found themselves attacked by the Bulgarians, by whom considerable numbers were cut off and destroyed.

Walter himself, with great wisdom[120] and resolution, forced his way through innumerable difficulties, till he had left behind him the inhospitable country of the Bulgarians; and at length brought his army, infinitely wasted by both famine and the sword, to the neighbourhood of Constantinople. Here he obtained permission to refresh his forces, and wait the arrival of Peter the Hermit himself, who followed close upon his steps.

The multitude which had been collected by the Hermit was even of a less uniform and regular description than that which had followed Gautier sans avoir. Men, women, and children,—all sexes, ages, and professions,—many and distinct languages—a quantity of baggage and useless encumbrance, rendered the army of Peter as unwieldy and dangerous an engine as ever was put in motion. Notwithstanding its bulk and inconsistency, it also proceeded in safety, and without much reproach, through Germany and Hungary; but at Semlin, the sight of the crosses and vestments which had been stripped from[121] the stragglers of Walter’s host roused the anger of the multitude. The town was attacked and taken by assault, with all the acts of savage ferocity which usually follow such an occurrence; and the crusaders, without remorse, gave themselves up to every barbarity that dark and unrestrained passions could suggest.[122]The news of this event soon reached the king of Hungary; who, calling together a considerable force, marched to avenge the death and pillage of his subjects. His approach instantly caused Peter to decamp from Semlin; but the passage of the Morava was opposed by a tribe of savage Bulgarians: few boats were to be procured; those that were found were of small dimensions; and the rafts that could be hastily constructed were but little manageable in a broad and rapid river. Some of the crusaders thus perished in the water, some fell by the arrows of the enemy; but the tribe that opposed the passage being defeated and put to flight, the rest of Peter’s followers were brought over in safety.

The Hermit now, after having sacrificed the prisoners to what was then considered a just resentment, pursued his way to Nissa, in which town the Duke of Bulgaria had fortified himself, having abandoned Belgrade at the approach of the army of the Cross. Finding, however, that Peter did not at all contemplate taking vengeance for the inhospitality shown to Gautier sans avoir, the duke wisely permitted his subjects to supply the crusaders with necessaries.

Thus all passed tranquilly under the walls of Nissa, till Peter and his host had absolutely departed, when some German stragglers, remembering a controversy of the night before with one of the Bulgarian merchants, set fire to several mills and houses without the walls of the town.

Enraged at this wanton outrage, the armed people of the city rushed out upon the aggressors, and, not contented with sacrificing them to their fury, fell upon the rear of the Hermit’s army, glutted their wrath with the blood of all that opposed them, and carried off the baggage, the women, the children, and all that part of the multitude whose weakness at once caused them to linger behind, and left them without defence.The moment that Peter heard of this event, he turned back; and, with a degree of calmness and moderation that does high honour to his memory, he endeavoured to investigate the cause of the disaster, and conciliate by courtesy and fair words. This negotiation was highly successful; the duke, appeased with the vengeance he had taken, agreed to return the prisoners and the baggage, and every thing once more assumed a peaceful aspect; when suddenly, a body of a thousand imprudent men, fancying that they saw an opportunity of seizing on the town, passed the stone bridge, and endeavoured to scale the walls. A general conflict ensued; the ill-disciplined host of the crusaders was defeated and dispersed, and Peter himself, obliged to fly alone, took refuge, like the rest, in the neighbouring forests.

For some time he pursued his way over mountains,[123] and wastes, and precipices; and it may easily be conceived that his heart—so lately elated with honour, and command, and gratified enthusiasm—now felt desolate and crushed, to find the multitude his voice had gathered dispersed or slain, and himself a wandering fugitive in a foreign land, without shelter, protection, or defence. At length, it is said, he met by chance several of his best and most courageous knights at the top of a mountain, where they had assembled with no more than five hundred men, which seemed at first all that remained of his vast army.[124] He caused, however, signals to be made and horns to be sounded in the different parts of the forest, that any of the scattered crusaders within hearing might be brought to one spot.

These and other means which were put in practice to call together the remnants of his army, proved so successful, that before night seven thousand men were collected, and with this force he hastened to march on towards Constantinople. As he went, other bands, which had been separated from him in the confusion of the flight, rejoined him, and the only difficulty, as the host advanced, was to procure the necessaries of life.

The news of Peter’s adventures flew before them, and reached even Constantinople. Alexius, the emperor, who had not yet learned to fear the coming of the crusaders, sent deputies to meet the Hermit, and to hasten his journey; and at Philippopoli the eloquent display of his sufferings, which Peter addressed to the assembled people, moved their hearts to compassion and sympathy. The wants of the host were plentifully supplied, and, after reposing for some days in the friendly city, the whole body, now again amounting to thirty thousand men, set out for Constantinople, where they arrived in safety, and joined the troops which Walter the Penniless had conducted thither previously.

Here they found a considerable number of Lombards and Italians; but these, also, as well as the troops which they had themselves brought thither were not only of the lowest, but of the most disorderly classes of the people. It is no wonder therefore—although Alexius supplied them with money and provisions, and tried to secure to them the repose and comfort that they needed in every respect—that these ruffian adventurers should soon begin to tire of tranquillity and order, and to exercise their old trades of plunder and excess.[125] They overturned palaces, set fire to the public buildings, and stripped even the lead off the roofs of the churches, which they afterward sold to the Greeks from whom they had plundered it.

Horrified by these enormities,[126] the emperor soon found a pretext to hurry them across the Bosphorus, still giving them the humane caution, to wait the arrival of stronger forces, before they attempted to quit Bithynia. Here, however, their barbarous licentiousness soon exceeded all bounds, and Peter the Hermit himself, having lost command over his turbulent followers, returned to Constantinople in despair, upon the pretence of consulting with the emperor on the subject of provisions.[127]

After his departure, the Lombards and Germans separated themselves from the French and Normans, whose crimes and insolence disgusted even their barbarous fellows. Gautier sans avoir still continued in command of the French, who remained where Peter had left them; but the Italians[128] and Germans chose for their leader one Renault, or Rinaldo, and, marching on, made themselves masters of a fortress called Exorogorgon, or Xerigord. Here they were attacked by the sultaun Soliman, who cut to pieces a large body placed in ambuscade, and then invested the fort, which, being ill supplied with water, he was well aware must surrender before long.

For eight days the besieged underwent tortures too dreadful to be dwelt upon, from the most agonizing thirst. At the end of that time, Rinaldo and his principal companions went over to the Turks, abandoned their religion, and betrayed their brethren. The castle thus falling into the hands of the infidels, the Christians that remained were slaughtered without mercy.

The news of this disaster was soon brought to the French camp, and indignation spread among the crusaders.[129] Some say a desire of vengeance, some a false report of the fall of Nice, caused the French to insist upon hurrying forward towards the Turkish territory. Gautier wisely resisted for some time all the entreaties of his troops, but at length finding them preparing to march without his consent, he put himself at their head, and led them towards Nice. Before reaching that place, he was encountered by the Turkish forces. The battle was fierce, but unequal: Gautier and his knights fought with desperate courage,[130] but all their efforts were vain; the Christians were slaughtered in every direction; and Gautier himself, after having displayed to the last that intrepid valour for which he was renowned, fell under seven mortal wounds.

Not above three thousand Christians effected their escape to Civitot. Here again they were attacked by the Turks, who surrounded the fortress with vast piles of wood, in order to exterminate by fire the few of the crusaders that remained. The besieged, however, watched their moment, and while the wind blew towards the Turkish camp, set fire to the wood themselves, which thus was consumed without injury to them, while many of their enemies were destroyed by the flames.[131]

In the mean time one of the crusaders had made his way to Constantinople, and communicated the news of all these disasters to Peter the Hermit. The unhappy Peter, painfully disappointed, like all those who fix their enthusiasm on the virtues or the prudence of mankind, was driven almost to despair, by the folly and unworthiness of those in whom he had placed his hopes. He nevertheless cast himself at the feet of the emperor Alexius,[132] and besought him, with tears and supplications, to send some forces to deliver the few crusaders who had escaped from the scimitar of the Turks.

The monarch granted his request, and the little garrison of Civitot were brought in safety to Constantinople. After their arrival, however, Alexius ordered them to disperse and return to their own country; and with wise caution bought their arms before he dismissed them;[133] thus at once supplying them with money for their journey, and depriving them of the means of plundering and ravaging his dominions as they went. Most of the historians[134] of that age accuse Alexius of leaguing with the Turks, even at this period, to destroy the crusaders, or, at least, of triumphing in the fall of those very men whom he had himself called to his succour.

The conduct of Alexius in this transaction is not very clear, but it is far from improbable that, fearful of the undisciplined multitude he had brought into his dominions, horrified by their crimes, and indignant at their pillage of his subjects, he beheld them fall by their own folly and the swords of the enemy, without any effort to defend them, or any very disagreeable feeling at their destruction. And indeed, when we remember the actions they did commit within the limits of the Greek empire, we can hardly wonder at the monarch, if he rejoiced at their punishment, or blame him if he was indifferent to their fate.

Thus ended the great expedition of Peter the Hermit: but several others of a similar unruly character took place previous to the march of those troops, whose discipline, valour, and unity of purpose ensured a more favourable issue to their enterprise. I shall touch but briefly upon these mad and barbarous attempts, as a period of more interest follows.

The body of crusaders which seems to have succeeded immediately to that led by Peter the Hermit was composed almost entirely of Germans, collected together by a priest called Gottschalk.[135] They penetrated into Hungary; but there, giving way to all manner of excesses, they were followed by Carloman, the king of that country, with a powerful army, and having been induced to lay down their arms, that the criminals might be selected and punished, they were slaughtered indiscriminately by the Hungarians, who were not a little glad to take vengeance for the blood shed by the army of Peter at Semlin.

About the same period, immense bands of men and women came forth from almost every country of Europe, with the symbol of the crusade upon their shoulders, and the pretence of serving God upon their lips. They joined together wheresoever they met, and, excited by a foul spirit of fanatical cruelty, mingled with the most infamous moral depravity, proceeded towards the south of Germany. They gave themselves up, we are told,[136] to the pleasures of the table without intermission: men and women, and even children, it is said, lived in a state of promiscuous debauchery; and, preceded by a goose and a goat,[137] which, in their mad fanaticism, they declared to be animated by the divine spirit, they marched onward, slaughtering the Jews as they went; and proclaiming that the first duty of Christians was to exterminate the nation which had rejected the Saviour himself. Several of the German bishops bravely opposed them, and endeavoured to protect the unhappy Hebrews; but still, vast multitudes were slain, and many even sought self-destruction rather than encounter the brutality of the fanatics, or abjure their religion.

Glutted with slaughter, the ungodly herd now turned towards Hungary; but at Mersburg they were encountered by a large Hungarian force, which disputed their passage over the Danube, absolutely refusing the road through that kingdom to any future band of crusaders. The fanatics forced their way across the river, attacked Mersburg itself with great fury and perseverance, and succeeded in making a breach in the walls, when suddenly an unaccountable terror seized them—none knew how or why—they abandoned the siege, dispersed in dismay, and fled like scattered deer over the country.The Hungarians suffered not the opportunity to escape, and pursuing them on every side, smote them during many days with a merciless fury, that nothing but their own dreadful cruelties could palliate. The fields were strewed with dead bodies, the rivers flowed with blood, and the very waters of the Danube are said to have been hidden by the multitude of corpses.

Disaster and death had, sooner or later, overtaken each body of the crusaders that had hitherto, without union or command, set out towards the Holy Land; but each of these very bands had been composed of the refuse and dregs of the people. I do not mean by that word dregs the poor, but I mean the base—I do not mean those who were low in station, or even ignorant in mind; but I mean those who were infamous in crime, and brutal in desire. Doubtless, in these expeditions, some fell who were animated by noble motives or excellent zeal; but such were few compared with those whose objects were plunder, licentiousness, and vice. The swords of the Hungarians and the Turks lopped these away; and I cannot find in my heart to look upon the purification which Europe thus underwent with any thing like sorrow. The crusade itself was by this means freed from many a base and unworthy member; and Chivalry, left to act more in its own spirit, though still participating deeply in the faults and vices of a barbarous age, brought about a nobler epoch and a brighter event.