CHAPTER XI.

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Progress of Society—The Rise of Poetry in Modern Europe—Troubadours—Trouveres—Various Poetical Compositions—Effect of Poetry upon Chivalry—Effect of the Crusades on Society—State of Palestine after the Second Crusade—Cession of Edessa to the Emperor Manuel Comnenus—Edessa completely subjected by the Turks—Ascalon taken by the Christians—State of Egypt under the last Califs of the Fatimite Race—The Latins and the Atabecks both design the Conquest of Egypt—Struggles for that Country—Rise of Saladin—Disputes among the Latins concerning the Succession of the Crown—Guy of Lusignan crowned—Saladin invades Palestine—Battle of Tiberias—Fall of Jerusalem—Conquest of all Palestine—Some Inquiry into the Causes of the Latin Overthrow.

Before proceeding to trace the events which occurred in the Holy Land between the second and third crusades, it may be as well to keep our eyes upon Europe for a few moments, and to remark the advance of society towards civilization. Prior to the period of the first expedition to Palestine, Germany had been occupied alone in struggling against the papal authority, and in fighting for dominions in Italy, the limits of which were always sufficiently vague to admit of disputes and aggressions on all parts. Apulia and the southern portion of Italy had been subjected, as we have seen, by the Normans; and the rest of that country, with the exception of some small republican cities, was divided into feudal baronies, the right of homage over which was very uncertain. Engaged in private wars and feuds, where personal interest was the sole object, unmixed with any refining principle, the Chivalry of Italy made but small progress. From time to time a great and distinguished chief started up, and dignified his country; but the general feeling of knightly zeal was not extended far in Italy, or was wasted in the petty purposes of confined and unimportant struggles. In Germany also Chivalry advanced but little. There was much dignified firmness in the character of the people; and—under the walls of Damascus—in the wars with the pope, and with the Norman possessors of Calabria—the German knights evinced that in the battle-field none were more daring, more powerful, or more resolute; but we find few instances where enthusiasm was mingled with valour, and where the ardour of chivalric devotion was joined to the bold courage of the Teutonic warrior. In Spain the spirit was at its height; but Spain had her own crusades; and it was quite enough for the swords of her gallant band of knights to free their native land, inch by inch, from her Saracen invaders. Military orders[603] were there instituted in the middle of the twelfth century; and the knights of Calatrava and St. James might challenge the world to produce a more chivalrous race than themselves; still the object of all their endeavours was the freedom of their native country from the yoke of the Moors, and they engaged but little in any of those great expeditions which occupied the attention and interest of the world. It is to France, then, and to England, under the dominion of its Norman monarchs, that we must turn our eyes; and here, during the course of the twelfth century, we shall find great and extraordinary progress.

Previous to the epoch of the crusades, France, though acknowledging one king, had consisted of various nations, whose manners, habits, and languages differed in the most essential points.[604] The ProvenÇal was as opposite a being to the Frank of that day, as the Italian is now to the Russian. The Norman and the Breton also descended from distinct origins, and in most cases these separate tribes hated each other with no slight share of enmity.

The character of the Norman was in all times enterprising, wandering, cunning, and selfish; that of the Breton, or Armorican, savage, ferocious, daring, and implacable; but imaginative in the highest degree, as well as superstitious. The ProvenÇal was light, avaricious, keen, active, and sensual; the Frank, bold, hardy, persevering, but vain, insolent, and thoughtless.[605] Distinctive character lies more generally in men’s faults than their virtues; and thus, all these different races possessed the same higher qualities in common. They were brave to a prodigy; energetic, talented, enthusiastic; but during the eleventh, and the beginning of the twelfth centuries, the rude state of society in which Chivalry had arisen, continued to affect it still. The first crusade, however, gave an impulse to all those countries that joined in it, which tended infinitely to civilize Europe, by uniting nations and tribes, which had long been separated by different interests, in one great enterprise, wherein community of object, and community of danger, necessarily harmonized many previously discordant feelings, and did away many old animosities, by the strong power of mutual assistance and mutual endeavour. The babel of languages which Fulcher describes in the Christian camp before long began to form itself into two more general tongues. Latin, notwithstanding all the support it received in the court, in the church, and in the schools, was soon confined to the cloister; and the langue d’oc, or ProvenÇal, became the common language of all the provinces on the southern side of the Loire, while the langue d’oil only was spoken in the north of France. The manners and habits of the people, too, were gradually shaded into each other; the distinctions became less defined: the ProvenÇal no longer looked upon the Breton as a savage; and the Frank no longer classed the ProvenÇal with the ape. A thousand alliances were formed between individuals of different tribes, and the hand of kindred smoothed away the remaining asperities of national prejudice. Such assimilations tend of course to calm and mollify the mind of man; so that the general character of the country became of a less rude and ferocious nature. At this time, too, sprang up that greatest of all the softeners of the human heart, poetry; and immense was the change it wrought in the manners and deportment of that class which constituted the society of the twelfth century. The poetry of that age bore as distinct and clear a stamp of the epoch to which it belonged, as any that the world ever produced; and it is absurd to trace to an earlier day the origin of a kind of poesy which was founded upon Chivalry alone, and reflected nothing but the objects of a chivalrous society.

It is little important which of the two tongues of France first boasted a national poet, and equally unimportant which gave birth to the most excellent poetry. The langue d’oc was the most mellifluous; the langue d’oil was the most forcible; but neither brought forth any thing but the tales, the songs, the satires, the ballads of Chivalry.It is more than probable that some musical ear in Provence first applied to his own language the melody of regularly arranged syllables, and the jingle of rhyme. No sooner was this done than the passion spread to all classes. Chivalrous love and chivalrous warfare furnished subjects in plenty; and the gai savoir, the biau parler, became the favourite relaxation of those very men who wielded the lance and sword in the battle-field. The Troubadours were multiplied to infinity; the language lent itself almost spontaneously to versification; and kings, warriors, and ladies, as well as the professed poets, occasionally practised the new and captivating art, which at once increased chivalrous enthusiasm, by spreading and perpetuating the fame of noble deeds, and softened the manners of the age, by the influence of sweet sounds and intellectual exercises. The songs themselves soon became as various as those who composed them, and were divided into Sirventes, Tensons, Pastourelles, and Nouvelles, or Contes.[606] The Conte, or tale in verse, needs no description, and the nature of the Pastourelle also is self-evident. The Sirvente deserves more particular notice. It was in fact a satire, of the most biting and lively character; in which wit and poetry were not used to cover or to temper the reprobation of either individual or general vice, but rather, on the contrary, to give point and energy to invective. The keen bitterness of the Troubadours spared neither rank nor caste; kings, and nobles, and priests, all equally underwent the lash of their wit; and it is from these very sirventes that we gain a clear insight into many of the customs and manners of that day, as well as into many, too many, scenes of grossness and immorality, from which we would fain believe that Chivalry was free. The Tensons, or Jeux partis, were dialogues between two persons on some subject of love or chivalry, and in general show far more subtilty than poetical feeling. To these were added occasional epistles in verse; and Plaintes, or lamentations, in which the death or misfortune of a friend was mourned with a touching simplicity that has since been too often imitated with very ineffective art. Other compositions, such as the Aubade and the Serenade, were in use, the difference of which from the common lay consisted merely in their metrical construction: the word alba being always repeated at the end of each stanza of the aubade, and the word ser continually terminating each division of the serenade.[607] Such was the poesy of the Langue d’oc and the Troubadours. The Langue d’oil had also its poets, the Trouveres, and its poesy, which differed totally from that of the Langue d’oc. The art was here more ambitious than with the ProvenÇals; and we find, among the first productions of the Trouveres, long and complex poems, which would fain deserve the name of Epics. The first of these, both in date and importance, is the Norman romance of Rou, which bears a considerable resemblance, in its object and manner, to the fragments of old Scandinavian poetry which have come down to us, but has a continuous and uniform subject, and strong attempts at unity of design. The romance of the Rose also, commenced by Guillaume de Lorris,[608] and concluded by Jean de Meung, is one of the most extraordinary compositions that the world ever produced, and stands perfectly alone—an allegory in twenty-two thousand verses! Various subjects, quite irrelevant to the object of the song, are introduced in its course; and the poet mingles his tale with satire and sarcasm, which were fully as often misdirected as deserved. Besides these were all the famous romances of Chivalry which probably originated in the fabulous but interesting story of Charlemagne’s visit to the Holy Land, falsely attributed to the archbishop Turpin. This work bears internal evidence of having been written after the first crusade, and, we have reason to suppose, was translated into French,[609] from the Latin manuscript of some monkish author.

In all the romances of the Round Table, we trace the end of the twelfth, and the beginning of the thirteenth century. They could not have been composed prior to that epoch; for we find many customs and objects mentioned, which were not known at an earlier period; and it is probable, from various circumstances, that they are not referable to a later age. Besides these, multitudes of Fabliaux[610] have descended to us from the Trouveres, and in this sort of composition, it is but fair to say, we find more originality, variety, and strength, though less sweetness and less enthusiasm, than among the compositions of the Troubadours. At this period also we meet with an institution in Provence, of which I shall speak but slightly, from many motives, though undoubtedly it had a great influence upon the character of Chivalry: I mean the Court of Love, as it was called, where causes concerning that passion were tried and judged as seriously, as if feelings could be submitted to a tribunal. Could that be the case, the object of such a court should certainly be very different from that of the ProvenÇal Court of Love, the effect of which was any thing but to promote morality. It tended, however, with every thing else, to soften the manners of the country, though all the mad absurdities to which it gave rise were a scandal and a disgrace to Europe.

Besides all these causes of mitigation, the constant journeys of the people of Europe to the Holy Land taught them gradually the customs of other nations; and in that age there was much good to be learned by a frequent intercourse with foreigners. The great want of Europe was civilization; the vices of the day were pretty equally spread through all countries, and the very circumstance of mingling with men of different habits and thoughts promoted the end to be desired, without bringing any great importation of foreign follies or crimes. Many useful arts, and many sciences, previously unknown, were also obtained from the Saracens themselves; and though in the crusades Europe sacrificed a host of her noblest knights, and spent immense treasures and energies, yet she derived, notwithstanding, no small benefit from her communication with Palestine.

The state of that country, in the mean while, was every day becoming more and more precarious. The nations by whom it was surrounded were improving in military discipline, in political knowledge, and in the science of timing and combining their efforts, while the Christians were losing ground in every thing but courage. The military orders of the Temple and St. John were the bulwarks of the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem; but at the same time, by their pride, their disputes, and their ambition, they did nearly as much to undermine its strength at home as they did to support it with their swords in the field of battle.

It would be endless to trace all the events in Palestine which brought about the third crusade, and to investigate minutely the causes which worked out the ruin of the Christian dominion in the Holy Land. The simple facts must be enough in this place.

Although the crusade which went forth for the express purpose of delivering Edessa never even attempted that object, Joscelyn of Courtenay did not neglect to struggle for his lost territory, and gained some splendid successes over the infidels, which were all in turn reversed, by his capture and death in prison.[611] After his failure, the difficulty of keeping Edessa was so apparent, that the monarch of Jerusalem[612] determined to yield it to the Emperor Manuel Comnenus, on condition of his defending it against the Turks. Manuel, therefore, received the principality; but the weak and cowardly Greeks soon lost what the valiant Franks could not maintain; and before a year was over, Nourhaddin the Great, sultaun of Aleppo, was in full possession of Edessa and all its dependencies. Baldwin III., however, who had cast off the follies of his youth, and now displayed as great qualities as any of his race, more than compensated for the loss of that principality by the capture of Ascalon.[613]

After this great success, eight years of varied warfare followed; and at the end of that period Baldwin died, leaving behind him the character of one of the noblest of the Latin kings. His brother Almeric ascended the vacant throne, but with talents infinitely inferior, and a mind in no degree calculated to cope with the great and grasping genius of Nourhaddin, who combined, in rare union, the qualities of an ambitious and politic monarch with the character of a liberal, frugal, and unostentatious man.

Almeric was ambitious also; but his avarice was always a check on his ambition, and he suffered himself often to be bribed, where he might have conquered. At this time[614] the Fatimite califs of Egypt had fallen into a state of nonentity. The country was governed by a vizier, and the high office was struggled for by a succession of military adventurers.

Such a state of things awakened the attention of the monarchs of Jerusalem and Aleppo, and each resolved to make himself master of Egypt. An opportunity soon presented itself. Shawer, the vizier of Egypt, was expelled from his post by Dargham, a soldier of fortune. The disgraced vizier fled to the court of Nourhaddin, and prayed for assistance against the usurper. Nourhaddin willingly granted a request which yielded the means of sending his troops into Egypt; and two Curdish refugees, uncle and nephew, who had risen high in his army,[615] under the names of Assad Eddyn Chyrkouh, and Salah Eddyn or Saladin, were despatched with considerable forces to expel Dargham, and to re-establish Shawer. Dargham saw the gathering storm, and to shelter himself from its fury called the Christians from Palestine to his aid. But the movements of the Moslems were more rapid than those of Almeric; and, before the King of Jerusalem could reach Cairo, Chyrkouh had given battle to Dargham, and defeated and killed him, and Shawer was repossessed of the authority he had lost. Shawer soon found that his power was fully as much in danger from his allies as it had been from his enemies; and, to resist the Turks whom he had brought into Egypt, he was obliged to enter into a treaty with the Christians. Almeric marched immediately to Cairo, and after a multitude of manoeuvres and skirmishes, forced Chyrkouh and Saladin to quit the country; displaying, through the whole of this war, more scientific generalship than was at all usual in that age. No sooner were the Turks gone, than the Latin monarch[616] broke his truce with the Egyptians, and Shawer was once more obliged to apply to Nourhaddin. Chyrkouh again advanced into the Fatimite dominions with increased forces, obliged Almeric to retreat with great loss, took possession of Cairo, beheaded Shawer, and installed himself in the office of vizier to Adhad, calif of Egypt, though he still retained the title of lieutenant for Nourhaddin of Aleppo. Not long after these successes, Chyrkouh died, and Nourhaddin, doubtful of the fidelity of the Turkish emirs, gave the vacant post to Saladin, the nephew of the late vizier; in which choice he was as much guided by the apparently reckless and pleasure-seeking despotism of the young Curdish chief, as by the military skill he had shown when forced unwillingly into action. Saladin, however, was scarcely invested with supreme power in Egypt when his real character appeared. He cast from him the follies with which he had veiled his great and daring mind; and, by means of the immense treasures placed at his command, soon bound to his interests many who had been at first disgusted by his unexpected elevation. The califs of Egypt had been always considered as schismatics by the califs of Bagdat, to whom Nourhaddin still affected homage; and Saladin was forthwith instructed to declare the Fatimite dynasty at an end, and to re-establish in Egypt the nominal dominion of the Abassides. This was easily accomplished; Adhad, the calif, either died before the revolution was completed, or was strangled in the bath; the people little cared under whose yoke they laboured. The children of the late calif were confined in the harem; and Motshadi, calif of Bagdat, was prayed for as God’s vicar on earth.

Saladin’s ambitious projects became every day more and more apparent, and Nourhaddin was not blind to the conduct of his officer. Submission quieted his suspicions for a time; and, though repeated causes for fresh jealousy arose, he was obliged to forego marching into Egypt in person, as he undoubtedly intended, till death put a stop to all his schemes. No sooner was Nourhaddin dead, than Almeric attacked his widow at Paneas,[617] and Saladin began to encroach upon other parts of his territories: but Saladin was the only gainer by the death of the great sultaun, and made himself master, by various means, of the whole of his Syrian dominions, while internal dissensions and changes in the government of Palestine gradually weakened every bulwark of the Latin throne. Almeric[618] died in returning from Paneas, and his son, Baldwin IV, surnamed the Leper, succeeded him. Had his corporeal powers been equal to the task of royalty, it is probable that Baldwin would have been a far greater monarch than his father; but, after many struggles for activity, he found that disease incapacitated him for energetic rule, and he intrusted the care of the state to Guy of Lusignan, who had married his sister Sybilla, widow of the Marquis of Montferrat, to whom she had borne one son.[619]

Guy of Lusignan soon showed himself unworthy of the charge, and Baldwin,[620] resuming the government, endeavoured to establish it in such a form that it might uphold itself after his death, which he felt to be approaching. With this view he offered the administration to the Count of Tripoli,[621] during the minority of his sister’s child; but the Count refused to accept it, except under condition that the charge of the young prince should be given to Joscelyn de Courtenay, the surviving branch of the Courtenays of Edessa, and son of the unhappy count who died in a Saracen prison. He also stipulated that the castles and fortresses of the kingdom should be garrisoned by the Hospitallers and Templars; and that in case the boy should die in his youth, the question of succession should be determined by the Pope, the Emperor of Germany, the King of France, and the King of England.[622] Not many years after this the king died, and Baldwin V. succeeded, but his death followed immediately upon his accession. Without abiding by the dispositions of the former monarch, no sooner was the young king dead, than the Grand Master of the Temple, Renauld of Chatillon, Count of Karac, and the Patriarch of Jerusalem joined to raise Sybilla to the throne, in spite of the formal protest of all the other barons and the Grand Master of the Hospital. The gates of Jerusalem were shut;[623] and it was only by sending one of their followers, disguised as a monk, that the nobles assembled with the Count of Tripoli at Naplousa could gain any tidings of what passed. Sybilla was crowned in form; and then the patriarch, pointing to the other crown which lay upon the altar, told her that it was hers to dispose of, on which she immediately placed it on the head of Guy of Lusignan.[624] After this some of the barons refused to do homage to the new king, and some absented themselves from his court; but the imminent danger in which the country was placed at length brought back a degree of concord, when concord could no longer avail.

Saladin had by this time made himself master of all Syria;[625] and had not only consolidated into one great monarchy dominions which for ages had been separated into petty states, but also, by the incessant application of a powerful and expansive mind, he had drawn forth and brought into action many latent but valuable resources which had previously been unknown or forgotten. He had taught the whole interests of his people to centre in his own person, and he now determined to direct their energies to one great and important enterprise. That enterprise was the conquest of Palestine, and with an army of fifty thousand horse, and near two hundred thousand foot, he advanced towards Jerusalem, and laid siege to Tiberias.[626] Within the walls of that fortress the Countess of Tripoli held out against the Saracens, while her husband joined Guy of Lusignan, and brought his forces to the field in defence of the Holy Land.

The conduct of the Count of Tripoli is very obscure.[627] That from time to time he had treated with the Saracens is evident, and almost every European authority, except Mills, accuses him of having, in this instance, betrayed his countrymen into the hands of the infidels. Whether with or against his advice matters little to the general result—the Christians marched down to meet Saladin at Tiberias.[628] Beyond doubt it was by the counsel of the Count of Tripoli that they pitched their tents in a spot where no water was to be found. The troops suffered dreadfully from thirst; and in the morning, when they advanced to attack Saladin in the cool of the dawn, the wary monarch retired before them, resolved not to give them battle till the heat of the risen sun had added to their fatigues. To increase the suffocating warmth of a Syrian summer’s day, he set fire to the low bushes and shrubs which surrounded the Christian camp; so that when the battle did begin, the Latin forces were quite overcome with weariness and drought. The contest raged throughout the day, the Christians fighting to reach the wells which lay behind the Saracen power,[629] but in vain; and night fell, leaving the strife still doubtful. The next morning the Latins and Turks again mixed in combat. The Count of Tripoli[630] forced his way through the Saracens, and escaped unhurt; but the scimitars of the Moslems mowed down whole ranks of the Christians, for their immense superiority of numbers allowed them to surround the height upon which the king and the chief of his army were stationed, and to wage the warfare at once against every face of the Latin host. Such a conflict could not long endure. Multitudes of the infidels fell, but their loss was nothing in proportion to their number, when compared with that which their adversaries underwent.

The Grand Master of the Hospital[631] alone clove his way from the field of battle, after having staid till victory had settled upon the Paynim banners. He reached Ascalon that night, but died on the following day of the wounds he had received. The King—Renault de Chatillon, Count of Karac, who had so often broken faith with the Moslems—and the Grand Master of the Temple, whose whole order was in abhorrence among the Mussulmans—were taken alive and carried prisoners to the tent of Saladin. That monarch remained for some time on the field, giving orders that the knights of St. John[632] and those of the Temple, who had been captured, should instantly embrace Islamism, or undergo the fate of the scimitar. A thousand acts of cruelty and aggression on their part had given cause to such deadly hatred; but at the hour of death not one knight could be brought to renounce his creed; and they died with that calm resolution which is in itself a glory. After this bloody consummation of his victory, Saladin entered the tent where Lusignan and his companions expected a similar fate: but Saladin, thirsty himself, called for iced sherbet, and having drank, handed the cup to the fallen monarch, a sure pledge that his life was secure. Lusignan in turn passed it to Renaul of Chatillon,[633] but the sultaun, starting up, exclaimed, “No hospitality for the breaker of all engagements!”[634] and before Chatillon could drink, with one blow of his scimitar, Saladin severed his head from his body.

Tiberias surrendered immediately. City after city now fell into the power of the victor, and at length, after an obstinate defence, Jerusalem once more was trodden by the Moslems.[635] But the conduct of the infidel sultaun on this occasion shames the cruelty of the crusaders. When the people could hold out no longer, Saladin, who had at first offered the most advantageous terms, insisted that the city should now throw itself upon his mercy.

He then agreed upon a moderate ransom for the prisoners, and promised to let each man carry forth his goods without impediment. When this was done, with extraordinary care he saw that neither insult nor injury should be offered to the Christians; and, having taken possession of the town, he placed a guard at one of the gates to receive the ransom of the inhabitants as they passed out. Nevertheless, when the whole wealth which could be collected in the town had been paid down, an immense number of the poorer Christians remained unredeemed. These were destined to be slaves; but Bernard the Treasurer relates, that Saif Eddyn, the brother of the monarch, begged the liberty of one thousand of these, and that about the same number were delivered at the prayer of the Patriarch and of BalÉan de Ibelyn,[636] who had commanded in the place, and communicated with the Curdish monarch on its surrender. After this Saladin declared that his brother, the Patriarch, and Ibelyn had done their alms, and that now he would do his alms also; on which he caused it to be proclaimed through the city,[637] that all the poor people who could give no ransom might go forth in safety by the gate of St. Lazarus; but he ordered that if any attempted to take advantage of this permission who really could pay for their deliverance, they should be instantly seized and cast into prison. Many of the nobler prisoners also he freed at the entreaty of the Christian ladies; and in his whole conduct he showed himself as moderate in conquest, as he was great in battle.

Antioch and the neighbouring towns, as well as the greater part of the county of Tripoli,[638] were soon reduced to the Saracen yoke, and with the exception of Tyre, which was defended by the gallant Conrad, Marquis of Montferrat, the whole of Palestine became subject to the victor of Tiberias.

Such was the sudden and disastrous termination of the Christian dominion in the Holy Land;[639] a misfortune which all the contemporary writers attribute to the vices of the inhabitants. Without presuming to assign it, as they do, to the special wrath of Heaven, we may nevertheless believe that the gross and scandalous crimes of the people of Jerusalem greatly accelerated its return to the Moslem domination. After the successes of the first crusade, the refuse of European populations poured into Palestine in hopes of gain, and brought all their vices to add to the stock of those that the country already possessed. The clergy were as licentious as the laity, the chiefs as immoral as the people. Intestine quarrels are sure to follow upon general crime; and unbridled passions work as much harm to the society in which they are tolerated, as to the individuals on whom they are exercised. The Latins of Palestine retained their courage, it is true; but they knew no confidence in each other. Virtue, the great bond of union, subsisted not among them, and each one caballed, intrigued, and strove against his neighbour. The ambition of the two great military orders bred continual hatred and opposition,[640] and the discord that existed between the Hospitallers and the clergy caused another breach in the harmony of the state.

During the time that the kingdom of Jerusalem was thus dividing itself, by passions and vices, into ruinous factions and enfeebled bodies, Saladin and those that preceded him were bending all their energies to consolidate their power and extend their dominion. Zenghi was a great warrior, Nourhaddin a great monarch,[641] and Saladin added to the high qualities of both, not only a degree of civilization in his own person which neither had known, but, what was still more, the spirit of civilization in his heart.

Saladin was as superior to any of the princes of Palestine in mind as he was in territory; and with clear and general views of policy, keenness and strength of perception in difficulties, consummate skill in war, innumerable forces, and the hearts of his soldiers, it was impossible that he should not conquer. There can be no doubt that the Latins were a more powerful and vigorous race of men than the Turks. The event of every combat evinced it; and even in their defeats, they almost always left more dead upon the field of the enemy’s forces than of their own. Their armour, too, was weightier,[642] and their horses heavier and more overpowering in the charge. But the Turkish horseman and the Turkish horse were more active and more capable of bearing long fatigue, privation, and heat than the European; and this in some degree made up for the slighter form and lighter arms of the Saracen.

In war, also, as a science, the Turks had improved more than the Christians. We find that the troops of Saladin employed means in their sieges that they had acquired from the crusaders; that they stood firmly the charge of the cavalry; that they now fought hand to hand with the mailed warriors of Europe, and mixed all the modes of chivalrous warfare with those they had practised before.

We do not perceive, however, that the Latins adopted their activity or their skill with the bow; and at the same time it must be remarked, that the armies of the Moslem fought as a whole, under the absolute command of one chief; while the Christians, divided in the battle as in the time of peace, were broken into separate corps under feudal leaders, who each consulted his own will fully as much as that of his sovereign.

Many other causes might be traced for the Christian fall and the Mussulman triumph; but perhaps more has been already said than was required. Whatever were the causes the result was the same—Jerusalem was taken by the Moslem, and consternation spread through Christendom.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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