The great end of the crusade was now accomplished. Jerusalem was delivered from the hands of the infidels; but much remained to be done. To conquer the Holy City had been a work of prodigious difficulty; to keep it was perhaps more so; and it became evident that its defence must be intrusted to one powerful chief. For this purpose the several leaders who had formed the general council of the crusade met to elect a King of Jerusalem. The nomination to that high office was so extraordinary an honour, that the writers of each nation whose forces contributed to the crusade have declared their own particular prince to have been chosen;[474] and, as it was known that none of these did actually reign, they have furnished each with a suitable excuse for declining the distinguished task. It is probable, however, that the choice of the assembly really fixed at once upon the only person fitted for the office; and (to combine the words of Fulcher and Robert the Monk) that, “considering the excellence of his nobility,[475] his valour as a knight, his gentleness and patient modesty, as well as the purity of his morals, Godfrey of Bouillon was elected king by the whole people composing the army of God, with the unanimous wish, the general consent, and the judgment of all.” Various clerical cabals followed for the dignity of patriarch, of which it is not necessary to speak here.

Scarcely was the new monarch[476] seated on his throne, when the gathering forces of the Moslems called him again into the field. With the wise policy of activity, Godfrey did not wait to be besieged in Jerusalem, but marching out with all the troops he could muster, he advanced towards Ascalon, where a large infidel army had assembled, attacked and routed it completely, and thus secured the conquest he had gained.[477] But the virtues of Godfrey were not long destined to bless, or his talents to protect, the new kingdom of Jerusalem.[478] In the month of July, 1100, he was seized with a severe illness, on his return from a distant expedition, and in a few days the throne of the Holy Land was vacant.

Such an unexpected event of course spread dissension and consternation among the crusaders. Tancred, who was at Jerusalem, and from his great military name enjoyed no small power, offered the crown to Boemond, and beyond all doubt would have succeeded in causing his election, had Boemond been able to accept immediately the sceptre thus held out to him.[479] But the Prince of Antioch[480] was at the moment a prisoner in the hands of some Armenian Turks.[481] The Patriarch, on his part, endeavoured to raise Jerusalem into a simple hierarchy,[482] and to unite the crown with the mitre. The partisans of the Count of Toulouse also struggled in his behalf for the supreme power; but in the end, Baldwin, Prince of Edessa, the brother of Godfrey, was elected, and after some intriguing on the part of the Patriarch, was anointed King of Jerusalem.

It does not enter into the plan of this book to give a history of Jerusalem under its Latin kings: I shall, however, briefly notice each, that the occasion and object of the after-crusades may be properly understood.

Baldwin, on his election,[483] displayed virtues that had slumbered, and lost vices that had been displayed on other occasions. He extended the boundaries of his kingdom, humbled its Saracen enemies, instituted wise and salutary laws, and showed firmness, moderation, and activity in his new station, as well as the great military skill and enterprising spirit he had formerly evinced. He took Assur,[484] Cesarea, and Acre; and added Beritus, Sidon, and several other places to the kingdom of Jerusalem. At length, in the execution of a bold expedition into Egypt, Baldwin died, and his body, after being embalmed, by his own particular direction, was carried back to the Holy City.

Baldwin de Bourg, who, on the elevation of Baldwin I. to the throne of Jerusalem, had received the principality of Edessa, was now called to the vacant throne, and proved himself one of the wisest and most valiant of the Latin sovereigns of Judea. He also greatly extended the limits of his dominions; but in passing between Turbessel and Edessa, accompanied by a few soldiers only,[485] and unsuspicious of any ambuscade, he was suddenly surrounded, and carried a prisoner to Khortopret, where he remained in close confinement for several years. During his imprisonment Tyre was added to the territories of Jerusalem,[486] and various successful battles were fought against the Moslems. After his liberation he offered the hand of his daughter to Foulk of Anjou, who had some time before visited Jerusalem upon an armed pilgrimage. The Count of Anjou gladly accepted the proposal, and returning to the Holy Land, espoused Melesinda, soon after which he ascended the throne of Jerusalem, on the death of Baldwin. Foulk combined many virtues;[487] was kind, affable, and humane, as well as skilful and courageous in the field. After a reign of thirteen years he left the kingdom to his son, entire, indeed, but neither more extended in territory, nor more consolidated in power, than when he received it.

Baldwin III. succeeded; at the time of his accession being but a boy. Dissensions and animosities raged among all the feudal dependants of the crown of Jerusalem.[488] The Moslems scattered through the country, and girding it on every side, took advantage of each new dispute to harass their Latin invaders with desultory warfare. The emperors of the east strove continually to wrest something of their old possessions from the descendants of the crusaders, and thus divided the forces, and paralyzed all the efforts made by the Christians to establish and secure their yet infirm dominion. At length Zenghi, emir of Aleppo, and Mosul marched against Edessa, the government of which principality had been transferred, on the accession of Baldwin de Bourg to the throne of Jerusalem, to Joscelyn de Courtenay, and from him had descended to his son. The son had not inherited the virtues or the valour of his father; and while Zenghi attacked, stormed, and took Edessa, he was rioting in debaucheries at Turbessel. So severe a reverse spread consternation through Palestine. Others, though of a less important nature, followed; and the news of these misfortunes soon reached Europe, where it gave matter to the eloquence of St. Bernard, and occasion for a new crusade.

Long before this period, all the chiefs who had at first led the armies of the Cross to Jerusalem had tasted of the cup reserved for all men, and few words will end the history of each. Godfrey, Baldwin, and Baldwin de Bourg we have already conducted to the tomb. Boemond,[489] as I have said, fell into the hands of the Moslems; and after a captivity of two years, was permitted to pay a ransom, and return to his principality. On arriving, he found that his noble relative, Tancred,[490] had not only preserved, but increased his territories during his absence; and after several years continual warfare with Alexius on the one hand, and the Moslems on the other, mingled with opposition to the King of Jerusalem, Boemond sailed for Europe. There the fame he had acquired obtained for him the hand of Constantia,[491] daughter of the King of France. Her younger sister, Cecilia, was bestowed upon Tancred, who had remained in the government of Antioch.

By the aid of France, Boemond raised large forces and landing in Greece, ravaged the dominions of Alexius, who was at length fain to conclude a peace with the powerful and enterprising Italian. The Prince of Antioch then sent forward the greater part of his troops to the Holy Land, while he himself returned to Italy to prepare for the same journey. Death, however, staid his progress;[492] for, after a short illness, he ended his career in Apulia, in 1109.[493] Tancred still survived, and defended constantly the territories of his cousin against every attack for three years after the decease of Boemond. At last the consequences of a wound he had received some time before proved fatal, and the noblest and most chivalrous of all the Christian warriors died in the prime of his days. On his death-bed he called to him his wife, and Pontius, the son of the Prince of Tripoli,[494] and, aware of the necessity of union among the Christians, he recommended strongly their marriage, after death should have dissolved the ties between himself and Cecilia. The government of Antioch he bequeathed to his cousin Roger;[495] but, with the same noble integrity which he had displayed through life, he made the new regent promise, that in case the son of Boemond should ever come to claim those territories, they should be resigned to him without dispute. Thus died Tancred; who, from all that we read of the crusaders, was, with the exception of Godfrey, the noblest of the followers of the Cross—a gallant leader, a disinterested man, a generous friend, a true knight.

Previous to his death, however, he had been engaged in all the great events in Palestine. After the election of Godfrey, and the battle of Ascalon, the other chiefs of the crusade had either returned to Europe or spread themselves over the country, in pursuit of their own schemes of private ambition, leaving the new kingdom of Jerusalem to be supported by its king and Tancred, with an army of less than three thousand men. This penury of forces however, did not long continue, or the Holy Land must soon have resumed the yoke it had thrown off. The spirit of pilgrimage was still active in Europe; and combined with this spirit was the hope of gain, springing from vague and exaggerated accounts of the wealth and the principalities which the leaders of the first expedition had acquired.Pilgrimages now differed from those that had preceded the conquest of Jerusalem, in being armed; and many bodies, of several thousand men each, arrived both by sea and land, and proved exceedingly serviceable in peopling the devastated lands of Palestine. Various larger enterprises, more deserving the name of crusades, were planned and attempted, which it would be endless to name, and tedious to recount. Nearly five hundred thousand people set out from Europe for Syria,[496] and to these several of those crusaders who had gone back to Europe joined themselves, urged either by shame for their former desertion, or by the hope of obtaining easier conquests, and less dangerous honours. Of these, then, I will speak first, before noticing more particularly the armed pilgrimages, in order that I may trace to the end all those leaders of the first crusade who died in the Holy Land. The first great expedition set out not many years after the taking of Jerusalem, and consisted of several smaller ones from various countries, which united into larger bodies as they proceeded, and endeavoured to force their way through Asia Minor. At the head of these armies were Count Albert,[497] of Lombardy; Conrad, Constable of the Western Empire; Stephen, Count of Blois, whom we have seen flying from the land to which shame now drove him back; Stephen, Duke of Burgundy; the Bishops of Laon and of Milan; the Duke of Parma; Hugh, Count of Vermandois,[498] who now again turned towards Jerusalem; and the Count of Nevers: as well as William, Count of Poitiers; Guelf, Duke of Bavaria; and Ida, Marchioness of Austria. At Constantinople the first division met with Raimond of Toulouse,[499] who had returned to that city from the Holy Land, in search of aid to pursue the schemes of a grasping and ambitious spirit. The new crusaders put themselves, in some degree, under his command and guidance; but their first step was to disobey his orders, and to take the way of Paphlagonia, instead of following the track of the former crusade. They were for many days harassed in their march by the Turks, then exposed to famine and drought, and finally attacked and cut to pieces by Kilidge Aslan, who revenged, by the death of more than a hundred thousand Christians,[500] all the losses they had caused him to undergo. The principal leaders made good their escape, first to Constantinople, and then to Antioch; except Hugh of Vermandois, who died of his wound at Tarsus. The Count of Nevers,[501] who commanded the second body, met the same fate as the rest, and followed them to Antioch, after the destruction of his whole force. William of Poitiers, with the Duke of Bavaria and the Marchioness Ida, were also encountered by the victorious Saracens, and their defeat added another to the triumphs of the infidels and to the Christian disasters. The Duke of Bavaria, stripping himself of his arms, fled to the mountains, and made his escape. The precise fate of Ida of Austria remained unknown; but it appears certain she was either suffered to die in captivity, or was crushed to death under the horses’ feet.[502] The Count of Poitiers, completely destitute of all resources, and separated from his companions, wandered on foot till he arrived at Antioch,[503] where he was kindly received by Tancred, still alive, and met the other chiefs who had encountered disasters like his own.[504] The principal leaders proceeded straight to Jerusalem, with the exception of Raimond of Toulouse, who had long fixed his heart upon the conquest of the rich tract of Tripoli, which he attempted for some time in vain. Death staid him in his progress,[505] and Baldwin succeeded in accomplishing what he had designed; after which the king erected the territory acquired into a feudal county, which was bestowed upon the son of the deceased Raimond.

In the mean while Stephen, Count of Blois, reached Jerusalem; and having, by a second completed pilgrimage, wiped out, as he thought, the disgrace of having quitted the first crusade, he embarked, with William of Poitiers, to return to Europe. A contrary wind, however, drove back the vessel into Jaffa,[506] and here Stephen found himself called upon to join Baldwin in an attack upon the Turks. The king advanced with only seven hundred knights,[507] deceived by reports of the enemy’s weakness; but in the plains of Ramula he found himself suddenly opposed to the whole Turkish army. The spirit of Chivalry forbade his avoiding the encounter, and in a short time the greater part of his force was cut to pieces. He himself, with his principal knights, made their way to the castle of Ramula, from which he contrived to escape alone. The rest were taken, fighting bravely for their lives; and though some were spared, Stephen of Blois[508] was one of several who were only reserved for slaughter. Thus died the leaders of the first crusade who met their fate in Palestine, and thus ended the greater and more general expeditions which had been sanctioned by the council of Clermont, and excited by the preaching of Peter the Hermit. The ultimate fate of that extraordinary individual himself remains in darkness. On the capture of Jerusalem, when the triumphant Europeans spread themselves through the city, the Christian inhabitants flocked forth to acknowledge and gratulate their deliverers.[509] Then it was that all the toils and dangers which the Hermit had endured, were a thousand fold repaid, and that all his enthusiasm met with its reward. The Christians of Jerusalem instantly recognised the poor pilgrim who had first spoken to them words of hope, and had promised them, in their misery under the Turkish oppression, that aid and deliverance which had at length so gloriously reached them.[510] In the fervour of their gratitude they attributed all to him; and, casting themselves at his feet, called the blessing of Heaven on the head of their benefactor. After that period Peter is mentioned several times by the historians of Jerusalem;[511] and we find that he certainly did act a very principal part in the clerical government of the city.[512] Whether he returned to Europe or not I confess I do not know. He is said to have founded the abbey of Montier, in France, and to have died there; but this rests upon no authority worthy of confidence.

In the meanwhile, many of the Christians who had escaped the active swords of the Saracens in Asia Minor made their way to Jerusalem, and served to people and protect the land. Various armaments, also, arrived at the different seaports, bearing each of them immense numbers of military pilgrims, who, after having visited the holy places, never failed to offer their services to the king of Jerusalem, for the purpose of executing any single object that might be desirable at the time.

Three only of these bodies are worthy of particular notice, that of the English, Danes,[513] and Flemings, who assisted Baldwin at the unsuccessful siege of Sidon—the Norwegian expedition which succeeded in taking that city—and that of the Venetians, who afterward aided in the capture of Tyre. The Genoese[514] and the Pisans, also, from time to time sent out vessels to the coast of Palestine; but these voyages, which combined in a strange manner the purposes of traffic, superstition, and warfare, tended rather to the general prosperity of the country by commerce, and to its protection, by bringing continual recruits, than to any individual enterprise or conquest.

Many anecdotes are told of the first crusaders by their contemporary historians, which—though resting on evidence so far doubtful as to forbid their introduction as absolute facts—I shall mention in exemplification of the manners and customs of the time.

The number of women and children who followed the first crusaders to the Holy Land is known to have been immense; but it is not a little extraordinary, that in spite of all the hardships and dangers of the way, a great multitude of both arrived safe at Jerusalem. The women we find, on almost all occasions, exercising the most heroic firmness in the midst of battles and destruction; and Guibert gives a curious account of the military spirit which seized upon the children during the siege of Antioch. The boys of the Saracens and the young crusaders, armed with sticks for lances, and stones instead of arrows, would issue from the town and the camp, and under leaders chosen from among themselves,[515] who assumed the names of the principal chiefs, would advance in regular squadrons, and fight in the sight of the two hosts, with a degree of rancour which showed to what a pitch the mutual hatred of the nations was carried. Even after the crusaders had fallen in battle or had died of the pestilence, their children still pursued their way, and getting speedily accustomed to fatigue and privation, evinced powers of endurance equal to those of the most hardy warriors.

With the army of the Cross also was a multitude of men—the same author declares—who made it a profession to be without money; they walked barefoot, carried no arms, and even preceded the beasts of burden in the march, living upon roots and herbs, and presenting a spectacle both disgusting and pitiable. A Norman,[516] who, according to all accounts, was of noble birth, but who, having lost his horse, continued to follow as a foot-soldier, took the strange resolution of putting himself at the head of this race of vagabonds, who willingly received him for their king. Among the Saracens these men became well known, under the name of Thafurs (which Guibert translates Trudentes), and were held in great horror from the general persuasion that they fed on the dead bodies of their enemies: a report which was occasionally justified, and which the king of the Thafurs took care to encourage. This respectable monarch was frequently in the habit of stopping his followers one by one, in any narrow defile, and of causing them to be searched carefully, lest the possession of the least sum of money should render them unworthy of the name of his subjects.[517] If even two sous were found upon any one, he was instantly expelled from the society of his tribe, the king bidding him, contemptuously, buy arms and fight.

This troop, so far from being cumbersome to the army, was infinitely serviceable, carrying burdens, bringing in forage, provisions, and tribute, working the machines in the sieges, and, above all, spreading consternation among the Turks, who feared death from the lances of the knights less than that further consummation, they heard of, under the teeth of the Thafurs.

Mercy towards the Turks was considered, by the contemporary clergy, to whom we owe all accounts of the crusades, as so great a weakness, that perhaps fewer instances of it are on record than really took place; for we seldom find any mention of clemency to an infidel, without blame being attached to it. Thus the promise of Tancred to save the Turks on the roof of the temple is highly censured, as well as the act of the Count of Toulouse, in granting their lives to some five hundred wretches, who had taken refuge in the Tower of David.

One deed of this kind is told of Baldwin I., more as in its consequences it saved the king’s person, than as any thing praiseworthy in itself. Passing along one day on horseback, after his troops had been employed in wasting the country, Baldwin is said to have met with an Arabian woman, who had been taken in labour by the way.[518] He covered her with his own cloak, ordered her to be protected by his attendants, and having left her with two skins of water, and two female camels, he pursued his march. The chances of the desultory warfare of those times soon brought back her husband to the spot, and his gratitude was the more ardent as the benefit he had received was unusual and unexpected. After the fatal day of Ramula, while Baldwin, with but fifty companions, besieged in the ill-fortified castle of that place, was dreaming of nothing but how to sell his life dearly, a single Arab approached the gates in the dead of the night, and demanded to speak with the king. He was in consequence brought to Baldwin’s presence,[519] where he recalled to his mind the kindness once shown to the Arab woman, his wife; and then offered to lead him safely through the lines of the enemy. The fate of Palestine at that moment hung upon Baldwin’s life, and, trusting himself in the hands of the Arab, he was faithfully conducted to his own camp,[520] where he appeared, says William of Tyre, like the morning star breaking through the clouds.

Superstition, which in that age was at its height in Europe, was, of course, not unknown in Palestine, and all sorts of visions were seen. Battles, according to the monkish accounts, were won by relics and prayers more than by swords and lances. A part of the Holy Cross was said to be found in Jerusalem, a thousand more martyrs were dug up than ever were buried, and we find one of the bishops ferens in pyxide lac sanctÆ MariÆ Virginis. Ghosts[521] of saints, too, were seen on every occasion, and the Devil himself, in more than one instance, appeared to the crusaders, tempting them with consummate art to all kinds of crimes. The evil spirit, however, often—indeed generally—found himself cheated by his victims in the end, who, by repentance, gifts to the church, and fanatical observances, easily found means to “swear the seal from off their bond.”

The appearance of an army in the times of the first crusade was highly gorgeous and magnificent.[522] The number of banners of purple and gold, and rich colours—each feudal baron having the right to bear his banner to the field—rendered the Christian host in full array as bright a spectacle as the sun could shine upon. The armour of the knights also gave a glittering and splendid effect to the scene; nor was this armour as has been represented, entirely of that kind called chain mail, which formed the original hauberk. It varied according to various nations, and it is evident from the continual mention of the corslet or breastplate, by all the authors I have had occasion to cite in this work, that that piece of plate armour was used during the first crusade.[523] It is probable, however, that the armour generally worn was principally linked mail, which, in the case of the knights, enveloped the whole body, being composed of a shirt of rings, with hose, shoes, and gauntlets, of the same materials. The helmet might also be covered with a chain hood, which completed the dress. In addition to this, it is not unlikely that a cuirass was frequently worn with the shirt, as we find, from the poem of William the Breton on Philip Augustus, that it was even then a common practice to wear a double plastron or cuirass, though plate armour had returned into common use. The shield, charged with some design, but certainly not with regular armorial bearings, together with the lance, sword, and mace, completed the arms, offensive and defensive, of a knight of that day.[524] I cannot find that either the battle-axe or the armour for the horse is mentioned during the crusade; yet we know that both had been made use of long before. The foot-soldiers were in some cases allowed to wear a shirt of mail, but not a complete hauberk, and were armed with pikes, bows, and crossbows; though it would seem that they gained their knowledge of the latter instrument from the Saracens, there being several lamentations, in all the accounts of their first entrance into Asia Minor, over their unskilfulness in the use of the arbalist. The luxury with which the Christians marched to the crusade may be conceived from the narrative given by Albert of Aix, of the rout of the troops of Conrad and his companions, who followed to the Holy Land, immediately after the capture of Jerusalem. Among the spoils taken by the Turks, he mentions ermines,[525] sables, and all kinds of rich furs, purple and gold embroidery, and an incalculable quantity of silver. The roads, he says, were so strewed with riches, that the pursuers trod upon nothing but besants and other pieces of money, precious stones, vases of gold and silver, and every sort of silk and fine stuff.

The Turks proceeded to battle with even greater magnificence; and, after the victories of Antioch and Ascalon, we read continually of invaluable booty, jewels,[526] golden helmets and armour standards of silver, and scimitars of unknown worth. The arms of the Turks were lighter, in all probability, than those of the Christians, and in general consisted of the sword and the bow, in the use of which they were exceedingly skilful.[527] We find, however, that the various nations of which the Mahommedan armies were composed used very different weapons; though all were remarkable for the manner in which they eluded their enemies, by their skill in horsemanship, and the fleetness of their chargers. One nation, mentioned by Albert of Aix under the title of Azoparts, are called the invincible, and were furnished with heavy maces, with which they aimed at the heads of the horses, and seldom failed to bring them down.

After the conquest of Palestine by the Christians,[528] the surrounding tribes continued to wage an unceasing war against their invaders; but nevertheless many of the Mussulman towns within the limits of the kingdom of Jerusalem submitted to the conquerors, and were admitted to pay tribute. A free communication also took place between the followers of the two religions, and a greater degree of connexion began to exist than was very well consistent with the fanaticism of either people. A mixed race even sprang up from the European[529] and Asiatic population, the children of parents from different continents being called Pullani. At the same time the country was governed by European laws,[530] which, not coming within the absolute scope of this book, I must avoid treating of, from the very limited space to which I am obliged to confine myself. Suffice it to say, that Godfrey of Bouillon, among the first cares of government, appointed a commission to inquire into the laws and customs of the various nations which formed the population of the country he was called to rule. From the investigation thus entered into was drawn up an admirable code of feudal law, under the title of Assizes de Jerusalem. Two institutions of a strictly chivalrous nature, which were founded, properly speaking, between the first and second crusades,[531] I must mention here, as all the after-history of knighthood is more or less connected with their progress. I mean the two military orders of the Hospital and the Temple.

The spirit of religious devotion and military fervour had been so intimately united during the whole of the crusade, that the combination of the austere rules of the monk, with the warlike activity of the soldier, seems to have been a necessary consequence of the wars of the Cross.

Long previous to the crusade, some of the citizens of Amalfi having been led to Jerusalem,[532] partly from feelings of devotion, partly in the pursuit of commerce, had witnessed the misery to which pilgrims were exposed on their road to the Holy Land, and determined to found an hospital in which pious travellers might be protected and solaced after their arrival at the end of their journey. The influence which the Italian merchants possessed through their commercial relations at the court of the calif, easily obtained permission to establish the institution proposed. A piece of ground near the supposed site of the holy sepulchre was assigned to them, and the chapel and hospital were accordingly built, at different times, and placed under the patronage, the one of St. Mary, and the other of St. John the Almoner.

A religious house was also constructed for those charitable persons, of both sexes, who chose to dedicate themselves to the service of the pilgrims, and who, on their admission, subjected themselves to the rule of St. Benedict. All travellers, whether Greeks or Latins, were received into the hospital; and the monks even extended their charitable care to the sick or poor Mussulmans who surrounded them.

During the siege of Jerusalem by the crusaders, all the principal Christians of the town were thrown into prison; among others, the abbot (as he is called by James of Vitry)[533] of the monastery of St. John. He was a Frenchman by birth, named Gerard; and, after the taking of the city, was liberated, with other Christian prisoners, and returned to the duties of his office, in attending the sick and wounded crusaders who were brought into the Hospital. After the battle of Ascalon, Godfrey visited the establishment, where he still found many of the followers of the crusade, who, struck with admiration at the institution, and filled with gratitude for the services they had received, determined to embrace the order, and dedicate their lives also to acts of charity. Godfrey, as a reward for the benefits which these holy men had conferred on his fellow-christians, endowed the Hospital (now in a degree separated from the abbey of St. Mary) with a large estate, in his hereditary dominions in Brabant. Various other gifts were added by the different crusaders of rank; and the Poor Brothers of the Hospital of St. John began to find themselves a rich and flourishing community. It was at this period that they first took the black habit and the white cross of eight points, and subjected themselves, by peculiar vows, to the continual attendance on pilgrims and sick persons.[534] Pascal II. soon after bestowed upon the order several valuable privileges, among which were, exemption from all tithes, the right of electing their own superior, and absolute immunity from all secular or clerical interference. The constant resort of pilgrims to the Holy Land not only increased the wealth of the Hospitallers, but spread their fame to other countries. Princes and kings conferred lands and benefices upon them, and the order began to throw out ramifications into Europe, where hospitals, under the same rule, were erected, and may be considered as the first commanderies of the institution.

At the death of Gerard, which took place almost immediately after that of Baldwin I., Raimond Dupuy, one of the crusaders who had attached himself to the Hospital on having been cured of his wounds received at the siege of Jerusalem, was elected master, and soon conceived the idea of rendering the wealth and number of the Hospitallers serviceable to the state in other ways than those which they had hitherto pursued. His original profession of course led him to the thought of combining war with devotion, and he proposed to his brethren to reassume the sword, binding themselves, however, by a vow, to draw it only against the enemies of Christ. In what precise year the Hospitallers first appeared in arms is not very clearly ascertained; but it is a matter of no moment, and it is certain that they became a military body during the reign of Baldwin du Bourg.[535]

The order of St. John was then divided into three classes, knights, clergy, and serving brothers. Each of these classes still, when absent from the field, dedicated themselves to the service of the sick; but the knights were chosen from the noble or military rank of the Hospitallers, and commanded in battle and in the hospital. The clergy, besides the ordinary duties of their calling, followed the armies as almoners and chaplains; and the serving brothers fought under the knights in battle, or obeyed their directions in their attendance on the sick. At first, the garments and food of these grades were the same. The vows also were alike to all, and implied chastity, obedience to their superior and to the council, together with individual poverty.

The objects now proposed were war against the infidels, and protection and comfort to the Christian pilgrims. The knights were bound by strict and severe rules; they were enjoined to avoid all luxury, to travel two or three together, seeking only such lodging in the various towns as was provided for them by their community, and burning a light during the night, that they might be always prepared against the enemy. Their faults[536] were heavily punished by fasts, by imprisonments, and even by expulsion from the order; and they were taught to look for no reward but from on high. Nevertheless, before the good Bishop of Acre composed his curious work on the Holy Land, probably about the year 1228, the Hospitallers, he tells us, were buying for themselves castles and towns, and submitting territories to their authority like the princes of the earth.

The origin of the order of Red-cross Knights, or Templars, was very different, though its military object was nearly the same. The Christian power in Palestine was probably as firmly established at the time of Baldwin du Bourg, as during any other period of its existence; yet the mixture of the population, the proximity of a thousand inimical tribes, the roving habits of the Turks, who—generally worsted by the Christians in the defence of cities and in arrayed fields—now harassed their enemies with a constant, but flying warfare; all rendered the plains of the Holy Land a scene of unremitting strife, where the pilgrim and the traveller were continually exposed to danger, plunder, and death. Some French knights, who had followed the first crusade,[537] animated beyond their fellows with the religious and military fury which inspired that enterprise, entered into a solemn compact to aid each other in freeing the highways of the Holy Land, protecting pilgrims and travellers, and fighting against the enemies of the Cross. They embraced the rule of St. Augustin; renounced all worldly goods, and bound themselves by oath to obey the commands of their grand master; to defend the Christian faith; to cross the seas in aid of their brethren; to fight unceasingly against the infidel, and never to turn back from less than four adversaries.[538] The founders of this order were Hugh de Paganis and Geoffrey de St. Aldemar—or, according to some, de St. Omer—who had both signalized themselves in the religious wars. Having no fixed dwelling, the Templars were assigned a lodging in a palace in the immediate vicinity of the Temple, from whence they derived the name by which they have since been known. The number of these knights was at first but nine, and during the nine years which followed their institution, they were marked by no particular garb,[539] wearing the secular habit of the day, which was furnished to them by charity alone. The clergy of the temple itself conferred on their body a space of ground between that building and the palace,[540] for the purpose of military exercises, and various other benefices speedily followed. At the council[541] of Troyes, their situation was considered, and a white garment was appointed for their dress. Their vows became very similar to those of the knights of St. John; the numbers of the body rapidly augmented; possessions and riches flowed in upon them apace, as their services became extended and general. They added a red cross to their robe, and raised a banner of their own, on which they bestowed the name of BeausÉant. The order, as it increased, was soon divided into the various classes of servants of arms, esquires, and knights; and, in addition to their great standard, which was white with the red cross—symbolical, like their dress, of purity of life, and courage, even to death—they bore to battle a banner composed of white and black stripes, intended to typify their tenderness to their friends and implacability towards their enemies.—Their valour became so noted, that, like that of the famous tenth legion,[542] it was a support to itself; and, according to James of Vitry, any Templar, on hearing the cry to arms, would have been ashamed to have asked the number of the enemy. The only question was, “Where are they?”

On entering the order, the grand master cautioned the aspirant that he was, in a manner, called upon to resign his individuality. Not only his property and his body, but his very thoughts, belonged, from the moment of his admission, to the institution of which he became a part. He was bound in every thing to obey the commands of his superior, and poverty of course formed a part of his vow. His inclinations, his feelings, his passions, were all to be rendered subservient to the cause he embraced; and he was exhorted to remember, before he engaged himself to the performance of so severe an undertaking, that he would often be obliged to watch when he desired to sleep, to suffer toil when his limbs required rest, and to undergo the pangs of thirst and the cravings of hunger when food would be most delightful.

After these and similar warnings of the painful and self-denying nature of the task which he was about to impose upon himself, he was asked three times if he still desired to enter into the order, and on giving an answer in the affirmative, he was invested with the robe, and admitted to the vows, after previous proof that he was qualified in other respects, according to the rules of the institution.

No possible means has ever been devised of keeping any body of men poor; and the Templars, whose first device was two knights riding on one horse, to signify their poverty and humility, were soon one of the richest, and beyond comparison the proudest, of the European orders. Their preceptories were to be found in every country, and as their vows did not embrace[543] the charitable avocations which, with the knights of St. John, filled up the hours unemployed in military duties, the Templars soon added to their pride all that host of vices which so readily step in to occupy the void of idleness. While the knights of St. John, spreading benefit and comfort around them, notwithstanding many occasional faults and errors, remained esteemed and beloved, on the whole, both by sovereigns and people; the knights of the Temple were only suffered for some centuries, feared, hated, avoided; and at last were crushed, at a moment when it is probable that a reform was about to work itself in their order.[544]