——

A.D. 1096-1097.

The number of Christians who had taken the cross in the greater part of the countries of Europe were quite sufficient to form many large armies. As these armies might exhaust the countries through which they had to pass, the princes and captains who were to conduct them agreed among themselves that they should not all set out at one time, but should pursue different routes, and meet again at Constantinople.

Whilst they were engaged in preparations for departure, the multitude who followed Peter the Hermit in his preachings, became impatient to advance before the other Crusaders; and being without a chief, they cast their eyes upon him whom they considered as an envoy from heaven. They chose Peter for their general; the cenobite, deceived by the excess of his zeal, believed that enthusiasm could alone answer for all the successes of war, and that it would be easy to conduct an undisciplined troop which had taken up arms at the sound of his voice. He yielded to the prayers of the multitude, and, clothed in his woollen mantle, a hood over his head, sandals on his feet, and only mounted on the mule upon which he had traversed Europe, he took upon himself the command. His troop, which set out from the banks of the Meuse and Moselle, proceeded towards Germany, and was increased upon the road by a vast number of pilgrims hastening from Champagne, Burgundy, and other parts of France. Peter soon saw from eighty to a hundred thousand men under his standard. These first Crusaders, dragging in their train women, children, old men, and numerous sick, began their march upon the faith of the miraculous promises made them by their general; in the persuasion they were filled with, that God himself called upon them to defend his cause, they hoped that rivers would open before their battalions, and that manna would fall from heaven to feed them. The army of Peter the Hermit was divided into two bodies; the vanguard marched under the orders of Walter the Penniless,[50] whose surname, preserved by history, proves that the chiefs were as miserable as the soldiers. This vanguard only reckoned eight horsemen; all the rest went to the conquest of the East asking charity by the way. As long as the Crusaders were upon the French territory, the charity of the faithful who were on their route provided for their wants. They warmed the zeal of the Germans, amongst whom the crusade had not been preached. Their troop, which was considered everywhere as the people of God, met with no enemies on the banks of the Rhine; but new Amalekites, the Hungarians and the Bulgarians, awaited them on the shores of the Morava and the Danube.

The Hungarians, who had issued from Tartary, had a common origin with the Turks, and, like them, had rendered themselves formidable to the Christians. In the tenth century they had invaded Pannonia, and carried the ravages of war into the richest countries of Europe. Nations terrified at the progress of their arms, considered them as a scourge which was sent as a forerunner of the end of the world. Towards the middle of the eleventh century they embraced the Christianity they had persecuted. Once obedient to the faith of the Gospel, they began to build cities and cultivate their land; they felt what it was to have a country, and ceased to be the terror of their neighbours. At the period of the first crusade, the Hungarians boasted of having a saint among their kings,[51] but, still separated from the Christian republic by their position, they did not at all partake of the fervour of the Crusaders, and looked on with indifference at the preparations of Europe for the conquest of Asia.

The Bulgarians, who were descended from the ancient people of the Sclaves, had by turns protected and ravaged the empire of Constantinople. Their warriors had killed Nicephorus in battle, and the skull of an emperor, enchased in gold, served for a long time as a cup for their chiefs in the orgies of victory. They were afterwards conquered by Basil, who put out the eyes of fifteen thousand of his prisoners, and by this act of barbarity roused the whole nation against Greece. At the time of the crusade, Bulgaria was under the power of the Greek empire, but it despised the laws and the power of its masters. The Bulgarian people spread along the southern banks of the Danube, in the midst of inaccessible forests, preserved their savage independence, and only recognized the emperors of the East when they saw their armies. Although they had embraced Christianity, the Bulgarians did not consider the Christians as their brothers; they neither respected the laws of nations nor the rights of hospitality, and during the eleventh century they were the terror of the pilgrims of the West who journeyed to Jerusalem.

Such were the people whose territories the Crusaders were about to cross, and among whom want of discipline must necessarily expose them to the most direful reverses. When the vanguard entered Hungary, they were only disturbed in their march but by a few insults, which Walter had the prudence not to avenge; but the resignation of the pilgrims could not hold out long against the misery which every day increased. Want and its attendant evils soon dispersed all the sentiments of moderation to which religion had for a moment given birth in the hearts of its defenders. The governor of Bulgaria not having been able to furnish provisions, they spread themselves about over the country, carried off the flocks, burnt the houses, and massacred several of the inhabitants who opposed their violences. The irritated Bulgarians ran to arms, and fell upon the soldiers of Walter loaded with their booty. A hundred and forty Crusaders perished in the midst of flames, in a church in which they had taken refuge; the rest sought safety in flight. After this defeat, which he did not endeavour to repair, Walter continued his march through the forests of Bulgaria, pursued by famine, and dragging along the wreck of his army. He presented himself as a supplicant before the governor of Nissa, who was touched with the misery of the Crusaders, and gave them provisions, arms, and clothing.

The soldiers of Walter, tried by merited reverses, conducted by a chief who was wanting in neither skill nor courage, became again attentive to the voice of religion, and passed through Thrace without committing any disorders. After two months of fatigue and misery, they arrived under the walls of Constantinople, where the emperor Alexis permitted them to wait for the army of Peter the Hermit.

This army, which was then passing through Germany, was about to be treated worse than its vanguard had been. The cenobite Peter, more enthusiastic than his soldiers, was more skilful in exciting their zeal than in directing it. He showed neither the moderation nor the prudence of his lieutenant, and had no idea how to avoid the dangers which awaited him on his route. On arriving on the frontiers of Hungary, he learnt the ill-fortune that his companions had met with,[52] and the projects of hostilities formed, as he was told, against the army of the pilgrims. The bodies of several of the Crusaders hung at the gates of Semlin, which the historians of the crusades call Malleville,[53] attracted his regard and drew forth his indignation. At this sight, he gave the signal for vengeance and war. The trumpets sounded, the soldiers seized their arms, and hastened to the carnage. Terror preceded them into the city. On their first attack the people took to flight, and sought refuge upon a hill, one side of which was defended by woods and rocks, and the other by the Danube. They were pursued and forced into this last asylum by the furious multitude of the Crusaders. More than four thousand of the inhabitants of Semlin fell under the swords of the conquerors. The bodies carried down by the river bore the tidings of this horrible victory as far as Belgrade.

At this intelligence the Bulgarians and Hungarians were seized with grief and indignation, and in all parts flew to arms. The Crusaders still remained in Semlin, and were glorifying themselves upon their triumph, when all at once an army, assembled in haste by Coloman, king of Hungary, presented itself to their view. Peter had nothing to oppose to his enemies but the soldiers whose blind fury he had himself excited, and with whom it was impossible to make any military disposition. He did not dare to wait for the army of Coloman, and hastened to cross the Morava.

On gaining the territories of the Bulgarians, the Crusaders found the villages and cities abandoned; even Belgrade, the capital, was without inhabitants; they had fled into the forests and mountains. Peter’s soldiers, after a painful march, in want of provisions, and with difficulty finding guides to conduct them, arrived at last at the gates of Nissa, a place sufficiently well fortified to be secure from a first attack. The Bulgarians showing themselves upon their ramparts, and the Crusaders leaning on their arms, inspired each other with a mutual fear. This fear at first prevented hostilities; but harmony could not last long between an army without discipline and a people that had been irritated by violence.

The pilgrims, after having obtained provisions, had just set forward on their march, when a quarrel between the inhabitants and some of the soldiers caused war to break forth with inveteracy.[54] A hundred German Crusaders, whom William of Tyre styles children of Belial, and who fancied they had cause of complaint against some merchants, wishing to avenge themselves, set fire to seven mills placed upon the Nissava. At the sight of this fire, the inhabitants of Nissa rushed from their ramparts, and falling upon Peter’s rear-guard, massacred all who fell in their way, bore off two thousand carriages, and made a great number of prisoners. Peter, who had already quitted the territory of Nissa, warned of the disaster of his companions, returned immediately with the bulk of his army. The eyes of the Crusaders on approaching the city, were shocked everywhere by beholding the most sorrowful spectacle. They recognized among the dead friends and brothers, and burned to revenge them.

The cenobite, however, who feared fresh reverses, had recourse to negotiations and prayers. Deputies were sent into Nissa, to demand the prisoners and the baggage of his army, which had been taken by the Bulgarians. These deputies reminded the governor that they had taken up the cross, and that they were going to fight in the East for the cause of Jesus Christ. They appealed to the religion and humanity of the inhabitants of Nissa, whom they called their brethren.

The governor, who saw nothing in these peaceful words but the language of fear, showed himself inflexible to their prayers. He sternly sent them back to their general, telling them that the Crusaders had themselves given the signal for the war, and that he could see in them nothing but enemies. When this answer was reported to the army of Peter, every soldier was fired with indignation. In vain the cenobite endeavoured to calm their spirits and attempt fresh negotiations; they accused his fidelity, they suspected his courage. The most ardent flew to arms; nothing was heard but complaints and menaces; and no Crusader would submit to any directions but those of his own angry will. Whilst Peter was conferring with the governor of Nissa, two thousand soldiers approached the ramparts, and endeavoured to scale them. They were repulsed by the Bulgarians, and supported by a great number of their companions. The fight became general, and the fire of carnage blazed on all parts around the chiefs, who were still speaking of conditions of peace. In vain the hermit had recourse to supplications, to stop the mad progress of his soldiers, in vain he placed himself between the combatants; his voice, so well known to the Crusaders, was lost in the din of arms. They braved his authority; they despised his prayers. His army, which fought without order and without leaders, was routed and cut to pieces. The women, the children, who followed the Crusaders, their horses, their camp equipages, the chest of the army, which contained the numerous offerings of the faithful, all became the prey of an enemy whose fury and vengeance nothing could stop.

The hermit Peter, with the wreck of his troop, took refuge on a hill in the neighbourhood of the city. He passed the night in alarms, deploring his defeat, and the sad effects of the violences of which he had himself given the signal and the example among the Hungarians. He had around him no more than five hundred men. The trumpets and the clarions were sounded without ceasing, to recall those who had escaped the carnage, and had lost themselves in their flight.

Whether it was that the Crusaders could find no safety but under their own standards, or whether they were still mindful of their oath, none turned back from the crusade. On the day following their defeat, seven thousand fugitives came to rejoin their general. A few days after, Peter mustered beneath his command thirty thousand combatants. All the rest had perished in the battle fought under the walls of Nissa. The army of the Crusaders, reduced to a deplorable condition, sought no opportunity of avenging their defeat, but marched with melancholy steps towards the frontiers of Thrace. They were without the means either of subsisting or fighting. They had to fear a fresh defeat if they encountered the Bulgarians, and all the horrors of famine if they came to a desert country. Misfortune rendered them more docile, and inspired them with sentiments of moderation. The pity which their misery excited was more serviceable to them than the terror which they had wished to create. When they ceased to be an object of dread, assistance was afforded them. When they entered the territories of Thrace, the Greek emperor sent deputies to complain of their disorders, but at the same time to announce his clemency. Peter, who dreaded new disasters, wept with joy when he learnt that he had found favour with Alexis. Full of confidence and hope, he pursued his march, and the Crusaders, carrying palms in their hands, arrived without further obstacles under the walls of Constantinople.

The Greeks, who entertained no love for the Latins, were more prodigal and kind in the assistance they afforded them from finding them less formidable. They secretly applauded the courage of the Bulgarians, and contemplated with complacency the warriors of the West covered with the rags of indigence. The emperor was desirous of seeing the extraordinary man who had roused the western world by his eloquence, and Peter was admitted to an audience of Alexis. In the presence of all his court, the emperor extolled the zeal of the preacher of the crusade; and as he had nothing to fear from the ambition of a hermit, he loaded him with presents, caused arms, money, and provisions to be distributed among his army, and advised him to defer the commencement of the war to the arrival of the princes and illustrious captains who had assumed the cross.

This advice was salutary, but the most renowned heroes of the crusade were not yet ready to leave Europe; they were to be preceded by fresh troops of Crusaders, who, marching without forethought and without discipline in the steps of the army of Peter, should commit the same excesses, and be exposed to the same reverses. A priest of the Palatinate had preached the crusade in several provinces of Germany. At his voice fifteen or twenty thousand men had taken the oath to fight the infidels, and had assembled in an armed body. As the preachers of the holy war passed for men inspired by God, the people believed they were obeying the will of heaven in taking them for chiefs of the crusade. Gotschalk obtained the same honour that had been conferred on Peter the Hermit, and was elected general by the men he had prevailed upon to take arms. This army arrived in Hungary towards the end of summer. The harvest, which was abundant, furnished the Germans with a ready opportunity of giving themselves up to intemperance. In the enjoyment of tumultuous scenes of debauchery, they forgot Constantinople, Jerusalem, and Christ himself, whose worship and laws they were marching to defend. Pillage, violation, and murder were everywhere left as the traces of their passage. Coloman assembled troops to chastise their license, and to recall them to a sense of the maxims of justice and the laws of hospitality. The soldiers of Gotschalk were full of courage, and, at first, defended themselves with advantage. Their resistance even inspired serious alarm among the Hungarians, who resolved to employ stratagem to reduce them. The general of Coloman feigned to be desirous of peace. The chiefs of the Hungarians presented themselves in the camp of the Crusaders, no longer as enemies, but as brothers. By dint of protestations and caresses, they persuaded them to allow themselves to be disarmed. The Germans, slaves of the most brutal passions, but simple and credulous, yielded to the promises of a Christian people, and abandoned themselves to a blind confidence, of which they very shortly became the victims. Scarcely had they laid down their arms when the chief of the Hungarians gave the signal for the carnage. The prayers, the tears of the Crusaders, the sacred sign which they bore upon their breasts, could not divert the blows of a perfidious and barbarous enemy. Their fate was worthy of pity, and history might have shed tears over it if they had themselves respected the laws of humanity.

We are doubtless the less astonished at the excesses of the first Crusaders, when we reflect that they belonged to the lowest class of the people, always blind, and always ready to abuse names and things the most holy, when not restrained by laws or leaders. The civil wars, which had so long disturbed Europe, had greatly increased the number of vagabonds and adventurers. Germany, more troubled than the other countries of the West, was filled with men trained in brigandage, and became the scourge of society. They almost all enrolled themselves under the banners of the cross, and carried with them into a new expedition the spirit of license and revolt with which they were animated.

There assembled on the banks of the Rhine and the Moselle a new troop of Crusaders, more seditious, more undisciplined, even, than those of Peter and Gotschalk. They had been told that the crusade procured the forgiveness of all sins; and in this persuasion they committed the greatest crimes with security. Animated by a fanatical pride, they believed themselves entitled to despise and ill-treat all who did not join in the holy expedition. The war they were about to wage appeared to them so agreeable to God, and they thought by it to render such a signal service to the Church, that all the wealth of the earth would be scarcely sufficient to pay them for their devotion. Everything which fell into their hands appeared a conquest over the infidels, and became the just reward of their labours.

No captain durst place himself at the head of this ferocious troop;[55] they wandered on in disorder, and obeyed none but those who partook their wild delirium. A priest named Volkmar, and a Count Emicio, who thought to expiate the wildness of his youth by the excess of his fanaticism, attracted, by their declamations, the attention and confidence of the new Crusaders. These two chiefs were astonished that people should go so far to make war upon the Mussulmans, who kept up under their own law the tomb of Jesus Christ, whilst they left in peace a nation which had crucified its God. To inflame men’s passions still more, they took care to make heaven speak, and to support their opinions by miraculous visions. The people, for whom the Jews were everywhere an object of hatred and horror, had already shown themselves but too ready to persecute them. Commerce, which they almost alone carried on, had placed in their hands a great part of the gold then circulating in Europe. The sight of their wealth necessarily irritated the Crusaders, who were, for the most part, reduced to implore charity of the faithful to procure the means for undertaking their voyage. It is probable, likewise, that the Jews, by their railleries, insulted the enthusiasm of the Christians for the crusade.

All these motives, joined to the thirst for pillage, lit up the fires of persecution. Emicio and Volkmar gave both the signal and the example. At their voice a furious multitude spread themselves through the cities of the Rhine and the Moselle, massacring pitilessly all the Jews that they met with in their passage. In their despair, a great number of these victims preferred being their own destroyers, to awaiting certain death at the hands of their enemies. Several shut themselves up in their houses, and perished amidst flames which they themselves had kindled; some fastened large stones to their garments, and precipitated themselves and their treasures into the Rhine or the Moselle. Mothers stifled their children at the breast, saying that they preferred sending them thus to the bosom of Abraham, to seeing them given up to the fury of the Christians. Women and old men implored pity to assist them to die; all these wretched creatures calling upon death as earnestly as other men ask for life. In the midst of these scenes of desolation, history takes pleasure in doing justice to the enlightened zeal of the bishops of Worms, TrÈves, Mayence, and Spiers, who raised the voice of religion and humanity, and opened their palaces as so many asylums for the Jews against the pursuit of murderers and villains.

The soldiers of Emicio prided themselves upon their exploits, and scenes of carnage filled them with exultation. As proud as if they had conquered the Saracens, they set out on their march, loaded with booty, invoking the heaven they had so cruelly outraged. They were slaves to the most brutal superstition, and caused themselves to be preceded by a goat and a goose, to which they attributed something divine.[56] These mean animals at the head of the battalions were as their chiefs, and shared the respect and confidence of the multitude, with all those who furnished examples of the most horrible excesses. All people fled at the approach of these dreaded champions of the cross. Christians who met them on their route were forced to applaud their zeal, whilst trembling for fear of becoming victims to it. This unrestrained multitude, without being acquainted with the people or the countries through which they had to pass, ignorant even of the disasters of those who had preceded them in this perilous career, advanced like a hurricane towards the plains of Hungary. Mersbourg shut its gates upon them, and refused them provisions. They were indignant that so little respect should be shown to the soldiers of Christ, and deemed it their duty to treat the Hungarians as they had treated the Jews. Mersbourg,[57] situated on the Leytha, a river which flows into the Danube, was defended by marshes. The Crusaders crossed the river, cut down a forest, and formed a causeway, which conducted them close under the walls of the place. After some preparation the signal was given, the ladders were raised against the ramparts, and the general assault was begun. The besieged opposed a spirited resistance, and showered upon their enemies a tempest of darts and arrows, with torrents of boiling oil. The besiegers, encouraging each other, redoubled their efforts. Victory appeared to be about to declare for them, when suddenly several ladders yielded to the weight of the assailants, and dragged down with them in their fall the parapets and the fragments of the towers that the rams had shaken. The cries of the wounded, and the rattling of the falling ruins, spread a panic among the Crusaders. They abandoned the half-destroyed ramparts, behind which their enemies trembled, and retired in the greatest disorder.

“God himself,” says William of Tyre, “spread terror through their ranks, to punish their crimes, and to accomplish that word of the wise man: ‘The impious man flies without being pursued.’” The inhabitants of Mersbourg, astonished at their victory, at length quitted the shelter of their ramparts, and found the plain covered with the fliers, who had cast away their arms. A vast number of these furious beings, whom, recently, nothing could resist, allowed themselves to be slaughtered without resistance. Many perished, swallowed up in the marshes. The waters of the Danube and the Leytha were reddened with their blood, and covered with their bodies.

The vanguard of this army met with the same fate among the Bulgarians, whose territories they had gained. In the cities and the plains, those unworthy Crusaders found everywhere men as ferocious and implacable as themselves, who appeared—to employ the words of the historians of the times—to have been placed upon the passage of the pilgrims as instruments of divine wrath. A very small number escaped the carnage. Among the few who found safety in flight, some returned into their own country, where they were welcomed by the scorn and jeers of their compatriots; the rest arrived at Constantinople, where the Greeks learnt the new disasters of the Latins, with so much the more joy, from having suffered greatly from the excesses committed by the army of Peter the Hermit.

This army, united to that of Walter, had received under its standard an accession of Pisans, Venetians, and Genoese, and might amount to about a hundred thousand combatants. The remembrance of their misery caused them for a time to respect the commands of the emperor and the laws of hospitality; but abundance, idleness, and the sight of the riches of Constantinople, brought back to their camp, license, insubordination, and a thirst for plunder. Impatient to receive the signal for war, they pillaged the houses, the palaces, and even the churches, of the suburbs of Byzantium. To deliver his capital from these destructive guests, Alexis furnished them with vessels, and transported them to the other side of the Bosphorus.

Nothing could be expected from a band composed of a confused mixture of all nations, and the wrecks of several undisciplined armies. A great number of the Crusaders, on quitting their country, had thought of nothing but accomplishing their vow, and only sighed for the happiness of beholding Jerusalem; but these pious dispositions had all vanished on their route. Whatever may be the motive that brings them together, when men are not confined by any restraint, the most corrupted gain the ascendancy, and bad examples constitute the law. As soon as the soldiers of Peter had passed the straits, they considered all they met their enemies, and the subjects of the Greek emperor suffered much more than the Turks from their first exploits. In their blindness, they allied superstition with license, and under the banners of the cross, committed crimes which make nature shudder.[58] But discord soon broke out amongst them, and retaliated upon them all the evils they had inflicted upon Christians.

They had established their camp in the fertile plains which border the Gulf of Nicomedia. Every day parties strayed into the neighbourhood, and returned loaded with booty. The partition of the spoil excited frequent quarrels among them. The French, of an assuming and bantering character, attributed to themselves all the success of this commencement of the war, and treated the Italians and Germans with contempt. The latter separated themselves from the army, and under the conduct of a chief named Rinaldo,[59] advanced towards the mountains which border upon Nicea. There they rendered themselves masters of a fort, whose garrison they massacred, and although their troop was not numerous, and stood in great want of provisions, they were bold enough to await the army which was approaching to besiege them. They were not able to resist even the first attacks of the Turks, and were almost all put to the sword; their general, and some few of his soldiers, only saved their lives by embracing the faith of Mahomet, and by taking a disgraceful oath to fight against the Christians.

When the news of this disaster reached the camp of the Crusaders, it brought with it agitation and trouble. The French, who, a few days before, could not endure the Germans and the Italians, wept over their tragical fate, and were eager to march to avenge them. In vain Walter, who commanded them, represented to them that the Crusaders whose loss they deplored had fallen victims to their own imprudence, and that their principal duty was to avoid their example; nothing could restrain the impatience and the blind ardour of his soldiers. The latter believed that they already saw the Turks flying before them, and feared they should not be able to overtake them. Murmurs arose in the Christian army against a general whom they accused of want of courage, because he foresaw reverses. From murmurs they passed to revolt, and the order for departure and attack was forced from him by violence. Walter, groaning, followed a headstrong multitude, who marched in disorder towards Nicea, and whom the Turks would soon punish for the contempt with which they had treated the advice of their leaders.

The sultan of Nicea, foreseeing their imprudence, had concealed a part of his army in a forest, and waited for them with the rest of his troops in a plain at the foot of the mountain. After a march of some hours, in a country which was unknown to them, the Christians were unexpectedly attacked by the Turks, whom they believed to be in flight. They formed in haste, and at first defended themselves valiantly. But the enemy had the advantages of position and numbers, and they were soon surrounded on all sides, and completely routed. The carnage was horrible: Walter, who was worthy of commanding better soldiers, fell pierced by seven arrows. With the exception of three thousand men, who took refuge in a castle close to the sea, the whole army perished in a single battle, and there soon remained no more of them than a confused heap of bones, piled up in the plains of Nicea, as a deplorable monument to point out to other Crusaders the road to the Holy Land.

Such was the fate of that multitude of pilgrims who threatened Asia, and yet never beheld the places they went to conquer. By their excesses they had prejudiced the whole of Greece against the enterprize of the crusades, and by their manner of fighting had taught the Turks to despise the arms of the Christians of the West.

Peter, who had returned to Constantinople before the battle, and who had long lost all authority among the Crusaders, declaimed against their indocility and their pride, and beheld in them nothing but brigands,[60] whom God had deemed unworthy to contemplate or adore the tomb of his Son. From that time it was quite evident that the apostle of the holy war possessed no quality to enable him to act as its chief. Coolness, prudence, inflexible firmness, alone could conduct a multitude whom so many passions impelled, and who listened to nothing but enthusiasm. The cenobite Peter, after having prepared the great events of the crusade by his eloquence, lost in the crowd of pilgrims, played nothing but an ordinary part, and was in the end scarcely to be perceived in a war that was his work.

Europe, without doubt, learnt with terror and astonishment the unhappy end of three hundred thousand Crusaders, whom she had seen depart; but they who were to follow were not at all discouraged, and resolved to profit by the lessons which the disasters of their companions had given them. The West soon saw on foot armies more regular and more formidable than those which had been destroyed on the banks of the Danube, and in the plains of Bithynia.

When describing their march and their exploits, we are about to trace much nobler pictures. Here the heroic spirit of chivalry will display itself in all its splendour, and the brilliant period of the holy war will commence.

The leaders of the Christian armies which now quitted the West were already celebrated by their valour and their deeds. At the head of the great captains who commanded in this crusade, history, as well as poetry, must place Godfrey de Bouillon,[61] duke of the Lower Lorraine. He was of the illustrious race of the counts of Boulogne, and descended on the female side from Charlemagne. From his earliest youth he had distinguished himself in the open war carried on between the Holy See and the emperor of Germany. On the field of battle he had killed Rodolphe de Rhenfield, duke of Suabia, to whom Gregory had sent the imperial crown. When the war broke out in Italy for the cause of the anti-pope Anaclet, Godfrey was the first to enter the city of Rome, besieged and taken by the troops of Henry. He afterwards repented of having embraced a party which victory itself could not make triumphant, and which the greater part of Christendom considered sacrilegious. To expiate exploits condemned as useless by the spirit of his age, he made a vow to go to Jerusalem, not as a simple pilgrim, but as a liberator.

Contemporary history, which has transmitted his portrait to us, informs us that he joined the bravery and virtues of a hero to the simplicity of a cenobite.[62] His prowess in fight and his extraordinary strength of body made him the pride of camps. Prudence and moderation tempered his valour; his devotion was sincere and disinterested; and in no instance during the holy war did he employ his courage or inflict his vengeance but upon the enemies of Christ. Faithful to his word, liberal, affable, full of humanity, the princes and knights looked upon him as their model, the soldiers as their father—all were eager to fight under his standard. If he was not the leader of the crusade, as some writers pretend, he at least obtained that empire which virtue bestows. Amidst their quarrels and divisions, the princes and barons constantly appealed to the wisdom of Godfrey, and in the dangers of war, his counsels became absolute orders.

At the signal of the duke of Lorraine, the nobility of France and the borders of the Rhine were prodigal of their treasures in preparing for the crusades. All things serviceable in war mounted to so exorbitant a price, that the produce of an estate was scarcely sufficient to defray the equipment of a single knight. The women despoiled themselves of their most precious ornaments to furnish forth their sons and their husbands for the expedition. Men even, say the historians, who in other times would have suffered a thousand deaths rather than give up their hereditary domains, either sold them for a low price or exchanged them for arms. Gold and steel appeared to be the only desirable objects in existence.

Now appeared the stores of riches which had been concealed by fear or avarice. Ingots of gold, coined pieces, says the AbbÉ Guibert, were to be seen in heaps in the tents of the principal Crusaders, like the most common fruits in the cottages of villagers.

Many barons, having neither lands nor castles to sell, implored the charity of the faithful who did not take up the cross, and might hope to participate in the merits of the holy war by assisting in the equipment of the Crusaders. Some ruined their vassals; others, like William, viscount de Melun,[63] pillaged the burghs and villages to place themselves in a condition to combat the infidels. Godfrey de Bouillon, guided by a more enlightened piety, was content with alienating his domains. We read in Robert Gaguin that he permitted the inhabitants of Metz to redeem their city, of which he was suzerain. He sold the principality of Stenai to the bishop of Verdun, and ceded his rights over the duchy of Bouillon to the bishop of LiÈge for the small sum of four thousand silver marks and a pound of gold, which makes an historian of the Crusaders say[64] that the secular princes ruined themselves for the cause of Jesus Christ, whilst the princes of the Church took advantage of the fervour of the Christians to enrich themselves.

The duke de Bouillon had gathered under his standard eighty thousand foot-soldiers and ten thousand horsemen. He began his march eight months after the council of Clermont, accompanied by a great number of German and French nobles. He took with him his brother Eustace de Boulogne, his other brother Baldwin, and his cousin Baldwin de Bourg. These two last, who were destined one day, like Godfrey de Bouillon, to become kings of Jerusalem, held then the rank of simple knights in the Christian army. They were all less animated by sincere piety than by the hope of achieving a great fortune in Asia, and quitted without regret the mean possessions that they held in Europe. Still further were to be remarked in the train of the duke de Lorraine, Baldwin, count de Hamaut; Garnier, count de Grai; Conon de Montaigu, Dudon de Contz, so celebrated in the “Jerusalem Delivered;” the two brothers Henri and Godfrey de Hache, GÉrard de Cherisi, Rinaldo and Peter de Toul, Hugh de St. Paul, and his son Engelran. These chiefs brought with them a crowd of other knights, less known, but not less formidable by their valour.

The army commanded by the duke of Lorraine, composed of soldiers formed by discipline and tried in battle, offered to the Germans a very different spectacle from the troop of Peter the Hermit, and re-established the honour of the Crusaders in all the countries they passed through. They met with assistance and allies where the first champions of the cross had found nothing but obstacles and enemies. Godfrey deplored the fate of those who had preceded him, without seeking to avenge their cause. The Hungarians and the Bulgarians, on their part, forgot the violences committed by the soldiers of Peter, Gotschalk, and Emicio; they admired the moderation of Godfrey, and offered up vows for the success of his arms.

Whilst the duke de Lorraine was advancing towards Constantinople, France was raising other armies for the holy war. A few months after the council of Clermont, the nobles of the kingdom assembled to deliberate upon the affairs of the crusade. In this assembly, held in the presence of Philip I., who had just been excommunicated, no one was opposed to the war preached under the auspices of the Holy See; no one even thought of invoking policy either to moderate or direct the passions which agitated Europe. The cabinets of princes were as much infatuated as the multitude, and it may be said that the fortune of France took charge alone of these great events, which, though unfortunate at first, afterwards concurred to raise the monarchy which had fallen into ruins under the feeble successors of Charlemagne.

Towards the middle of the tenth century, the chief of the third dynasty had consecrated the usurpation of the nobles, and to obtain the title of king, had almost abandoned the little that remained of the rights of the crown. Philip I., grandson of Hugh Capet, found that his dominions extended but little beyond Paris and Orleans; the rest of France was governed by the great vassals, of whom several surpassed monarch in power. Royalty, the only hope of the people against the oppressions of the nobles and the clergy, was so feeble, that we are at the present time astonished that it did not fall, so numerous were the difficulties and the enemies that surrounded it on all sides. As the monarch was exposed to the censures of the Church, it was an easy matter to lead his subjects to disobedience, and to legitimatize any sort of revolt, by giving it the colour of a sacred pretext.

The crusade removed far from Europe all who could have taken advantage of the unhappy situation in which the kingdom was placed; it saved the country from a civil war, and prevented such sanguinary discords as had broken out in Germany under the reign of Henry and the pontificate of Gregory.

Such were the considerations which might present themselves to the most enlightened men, and which must strike us more strongly than they would the contemporaries of Philip.[65] It would be difficult to believe that any one of the counsellors of the king of France perceived, in all their extent, these salutary results of the crusade, which were recognized long after, and which have only been properly appreciated in the age in which we live. On the other hand, they had no conception that a war in which all the most dangerous passions should be brought into action would be accompanied by great misfortunes and calamitous disorders. Ambition, license, the spirit of enthusiasm, all so much to be dreaded by the country, might also bring about the ruin of armies. Not one of the enemies of Philip, not one of those who remained at home, made this reflection. Everybody, as we have already said, they who were of the party of the Holy See and they who adhered to royalty, allowed themselves to be carried along by the current of events, without either perceiving the causes of them or foreseeing their consequences. The most wise blindly followed that invisible destiny which orders the world as it pleases, and makes use of the passions of men as of an instrument to accomplish its designs.

In a superstitious age the sight of a prodigy or of an extraordinary phenomenon had more influence over the minds of men than the oracles of wisdom or reason.[66] Historians inform us, that whilst the barons were assembled, the moon, which was in eclipse, appeared of the colour of blood. When the eclipse was over, its disc was surrounded by an unprecedented splendour. Some weeks after, says the AbbÉ Guibert, the northern horizon was seen to be all on fire, and the terrified people rushed from the houses and cities, believing that the enemy was advancing, fire and sword in hand. These phenomena, with several others, were regarded as signs of the will of God, and presages of the terrible war about to be made in his name. They everywhere redoubled the enthusiasm for the crusade. Men who had hitherto remained indifferent now partook of the general delirium. All Frenchmen called to the profession of arms, and who had not yet taken the oath to fight against the infidels, hastened now to take the cross.

The men of the Vermandois marched with the subjects of Philip under the colours of their count Hugh, a young prince whose brilliant qualities had been much admired by the court. Proud of being a brother of the king of France and the first of the French knights, he distinguished himself by his bravery and the ostentation of his manners. He displayed invincible courage in the field of battle, but allowed himself to be too easily overcome by flattery, and was wanting in perseverance in reverses. Although fortune was not too kind to him, not one of the heroes of the crusade exhibited more honourable and disinterested intentions. If he had not merited by his exploits the surname of Great which history has given him, he would have obtained it for having only listened to his zeal, and for having sought nothing but glory in a war which offered kingdoms to the ambition of princes and simple knights.

Robert, surnamed Courte-heuse, duke of Normandy, who led his vassals to the holy war, was the eldest son of William the Conqueror. He joined to noble qualities some of the faults the most reprehensible in a prince. He could not, even in his early youth, endure paternal authority; but, drawn away more by a desire for independence than by a real ambition, after having made war against his father for the sake of reigning in Normandy, he neglected the opportunity of ascending the throne of England on the death of William. His levity, his inconstancy, and his weakness, caused him to be despised both by his subjects and his enemies. His profusion ruined his people, and reduced him, if we may credit the monk Oderic Vital, to a condition bordering upon absolute poverty. The historian I have just quoted relates a trait, which, although difficult to be believed, at the same time describes both Robert and the age he lived in. “He was often compelled to remain in bed for want of clothes, and frequently was absent from mass because his nudity prevented him from assisting at it.” It was not an ambition for conquering kingdoms in Asia, but his inconstant, chivalric disposition, that made him assume the cross, and take up arms. The Normans, a wandering and warlike people, who had made themselves remarkable among all the nations of Europe for their devotion to pilgrimages, hastened in crowds to his banner. As Duke Robert had not the means of providing for the expenses of an army, he pledged Normandy with his brother William Rufus. William, whom his age accused of impiety, and who laughed at the knight errantry of the Crusaders, seized with joy the opportunity of governing a province which he hoped one day to unite to his kingdom. He levied taxes upon the clergy, whom he did not like, and caused the silver plate of the churches to be melted to pay the sum of ten thousand silver marks to Robert, who set out for the Holy Land, followed by almost all the nobility of his duchy.

Another Robert, count of Flanders, placed himself at the head of the Frisons and the Flemings. He was son of Robert, surnamed the Frison, who had usurped the principality of Flanders from his own nephews, and who, to expiate his victories, had performed, some time before the crusade, the pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The young Robert easily found soldiers for his enterprize in a country where everybody had borne arms during the civil wars, and where the people were animated by the tales of a great number of pilgrims returned from the Holy Land. He exhausted the treasures of his father, to embark in an expedition which procured him the reputation of a bold knight, together with the surname of “The Lance and Sword” of the Christians. Five hundred horsemen sent by Robert the Frison to the emperor Alexis had already preceded him to Constantinople.

Stephen, count of Blois and Chartres, had also taken up the cross. He passed for the richest noble of his times. The number of his castles was said to be equal to that of the days of the year. What might be really considered a phenomenon in the eleventh century, this prince loved and cultivated letters. He proved to be the soul of the councils by his eloquence and his intelligence; but he could not long together support the fatigues of war, and he sometimes was but timid in the field of battle.

These four chiefs were accompanied by a crowd of knights and nobles, among whom history names Robert of Paris, Evrard of PrusaiÈ, Achard de Montmerle, Isouard de Muson, Stephen, count d’Albermarle, Walter de St. Valery, Roger de Barneville, Fergant and Conan, two illustrious Bretons, Guis de Trusselle, Miles de BraiËs, Raoul de Baugency, Rotrou, son of the count de Perche; Odo, bishop of Bayeux, uncle of the duke of Normandy; Raoul de Gader, Yve and AlbÉric, sons of Hugh de GrandmÉnil. The greater part of the counts and barons took with them their wives and children, and all their war equipages. They crossed the Alps, and directed their march towards the cities of Italy, with the intention of embarking for Greece. They found in the neighbourhood of Lucca Pope Urban, who gave them his benediction, praised their zeal, and offered up prayers for the success of their enterprize. The count de Vermandois, after having received the standard of the Church from the hands of the sovereign pontiff, repaired to Rome, with the other princes, to visit the tombs of St. Peter and St. Paul. The capital of the Christian world was then the theatre of a civil war. The soldiers of Urban, and those of the anti-pope Guibert, disputed, arms in hand, for the church of St. Peter, and by turns carried off the offerings of the faithful. Whatever some modern historians may say, the Crusaders took no part in the troubles which divided the city of Rome; and what is still more astonishing, Urban did not call to the defence of his own cause one of the warriors whom his appeal had induced to take up arms. For the rest, the spectacle which presented itself in the city of St. Peter must have been a subject of scandal to the greater part of the French knights. Some, satisfied with having saluted the tomb of the apostles, and perhaps cured of their holy enthusiasm by the sight of the violences which profaned the sanctuary, abandoned the standard of the cross, and returned into their own country. Others pursued their march towards Apulia; but when they arrived at Bari, the winter beginning to render the navigation dangerous, they were forced to wait during several months for a favourable moment to embark.

The passage of the French Crusaders, however, had awakened the zeal of the Italians. BohÉmond, prince of Tarentum, was the first who resolved to associate himself with their fortunes, and to partake of the glory of the holy expedition. He was of the family of those knights who had founded the kingdom of Naples and Sicily. Fifty years before the crusade, his father, Robert Guiscard ’the subtle) had quitted the castle of Hauteville, in Normandy, with thirty foot-soldiers and five horsemen. Seconded by some of his relations and compatriots, who had preceded him into Italy, he fought with advantage against the Greeks, the Lombards, and the Saracens, who disputed Apulia and Calabria with him. He soon became sufficiently powerful to be by turns the enemy and the protector of the popes. He beat the armies of the emperors of the East and the West, and when he died he was engaged in the conquest of Greece.

BohÉmond had neither less cunning nor less talents than his father, Robert Guiscard. Contemporary authors, who never fail to describe the physical qualities of their heroes, inform us that his height was so great that it exceeded by a cubit that of the tallest man in his army; his eyes were blue, and appeared full of passion and haughty pride. His presence, says Anna Comnena, was as astonishing to the eyes as his reputation was to the mind. When he spoke, his hearers believed that eloquence had been his only study; when he appeared under arms, he might be supposed to have done nothing but wield the lance and the sword. Brought up in the school of the Norman heroes, he concealed the combinations of policy beneath an exterior of violence; and although of a proud and haughty character, he could put up with an injury when vengeance would not have been profitable to him. Everything that could contribute to the success of his designs appeared to him to be just. He had learnt from his father to consider every man whose wealth or states he coveted as his enemy; he was neither restrained by the fear of God, the opinion of men, nor his own oaths. He had followed Robert in the war against the emperor Alexis, and had distinguished himself in the battles of Durazzo and Larissa; but, disinherited by a will, he had nothing at his father’s death but the memory of his exploits, and the example of his family. He had declared war against his brother Roger, and had recently compelled him to cede to him the principality of Tarentum, when the expedition to the East began to be talked of in Europe. The deliverance of the tomb of Christ was not the object that kindled his zeal, or induced him to assume the cross. As he had sworn an eternal hatred to the Greek emperors, he smiled at the idea of traversing their empire at the head of an army; and, full of confidence in his own fortunes, he hoped to win a kingdom before he should arrive at Jerusalem.

The little principality of Tarentum could not supply him with an army; but in the name of religion, a leader had then the power of raising troops in all the states. Enthusiasm for the crusade soon seconded his projects, and brought a great number of warriors to his standard.

He had accompanied his brother and his uncle Roger to the siege of Amalfi, a flourishing city which refused with contempt the protection of the new masters of Apulia and Sicily. BohÉmond, who knew well how to speak in proper season the language of enthusiasm, and to conceal his ambition beneath the colours of religious fanaticism, preached himself the crusade in the army of the besiegers. He went among the soldiers, talking of the princes and the great captains who had taken the cross. He spoke to the most pious warriors of the religion which was to be defended, and exalted before others the glory and fortunes which would crown their exploits. The army was won over by his discourses, and the camp soon resounded with the cry of “It is the will of God! It is the will of God!” BohÉmond congratulated himself in secret on the success of his eloquence, and tore his coat of arms into strips, of which he made crosses, and ordered his officers to distribute them among the soldiers. There now only wanted a chief to command the holy expedition, and the new Crusaders came to solicit the prince of Tarentum to place himself at their head. BohÉmond appeared at first to hesitate; he refused that which he ardently desired; and the soldiers assembled around him redoubled their solicitations. At length he seemed to yield to their importunities, and obey their will. Instantly the eagerness and enthusiasm became more animated and more general. In an incredibly short space of time the whole army swore to follow him into Palestine. Roger was obliged to raise the siege of Amalfi, and the happy BohÉmond gave himself up entirely to the preparations for his voyage.

A short time after he embarked for the coasts of Greece with ten thousand horsemen and twenty thousand foot. Every illustrious knight of Apulia and Sicily followed the prince of Tarentum. With him marched Richard, prince of Salerno, and Randulf, his brother; Herman de Cani, Robert de Hanse, Robert de Sourdeval, Robert the son of Tristan, Boile de Chartres, and Humphrey de Montaigu. All these warriors were celebrated for their exploits, but no one amongst them was more worthy to attract the attention of posterity than the brave Tancred.[67] Although he belonged to a family in which ambition was hereditary, he was fired by no other passion than a desire to fight against the infidels. Piety, glory, and perhaps his friendship for BohÉmond alone, led him into Asia. His contemporaries admired his romantic pride and his haughty austerity. He yielded to no superiority but that of virtue, with the exception of occasional submission to the power of beauty. A stranger to all the motives and interests of policy, he acknowledged no other law but religion and honour, and was always ready to die in their cause. The annals of chivalry present no model more accomplished; poetry and history have united to celebrate him, and both have heaped upon him the same praises.

The Crusaders from the southern provinces of France had marched under the command of AdhÉmar de Monteil and Raymond, count de St. Gilles and Thoulouse. Bishop AdhÉmar acted as the spiritual chief of the crusade; his title of apostolic legate, and his personal qualities, earned for him in the holy war the confidence and respect of the pilgrims. His exhortations and his counsels contributed greatly to the maintaining of order and discipline. He consoled the Crusaders in their reverses, he animated them amidst dangers; clothed at the same time with the insignia of a pontiff and the armour of a knight, he exhibited in the tent a model of the Christian virtues, and in the field often gave proofs of undaunted valour.

Raymond, who marched with AdhÉmar, had had the glory of fighting in Spain by the side of the Cid; and of conquering several times the Moors under Alphonso the Great, who had bestowed his daughter Elvira upon him in marriage. His vast possessions on the banks of the Rhone and the Dordogne, and still more his exploits against the Saracens, rendered him one of the most remarkable among the great leaders of the crusade. Age had not extinguished in the count of Thoulouse either the ardour or the passions of youth. Hasty and impetuous, of a character haughty and inflexible, he had less ambition to conquer kingdoms than to make every will bend beneath his own. Both Greeks and Saracens have acknowledged his bravery. His subjects and his companions in arms hated him for his obstinacy and violence. Unhappy prince, he bade eternal farewell to his country, which was one day to be the theatre of a terrible crusade preached against his own family!

All the nobility of Gascony, Languedoc, Provence, the Limousin, and Auvergne, accompanied Raymond and AdhÉmar. Contemporary historians name among the knights and lords who had taken the cross, HÉracle, count de Polignac, Pons de Balazan, Guillaume de Sabran, ElÉazar de Castrie, ElÉazar de MontrÉdon, Pierre Bernard de Montagnac, Raymond de Lille, Pierre Raymond de Hautpool, Gouffier de Lastours, Guillaume V., lord of Montpellier, Roger, count de Foix, Raymond Pelet, Seigneur d’Alais, Isard, count de DiÈ, Raimbaud, count d’Orange, Guillaume, count de Ferez, Guillaume, count de Clermont, Gerard, son of Guillabert, count de Roussillon, Gaston, viscount de BÉarn, Guillaume Amanjeu d’Albret, Raymond, viscount de Turenne, Raymond, viscount de Castillon, Guillaume d’Urgal, and the count de Fortcalquier. After the example of AdhÉmar, the bishops of Apt, LodÈve, and Orange, and the archbishop of Toledo, had taken up the cross, and led a part of their vassals to the holy war.

Raymond, count of Thoulouse, followed by his wife Elvira and his sons, placed himself at the head of a hundred thousand Crusaders, advanced to Lyons, where he crossed the Rhone, traversed the Alps, Lombardy, and Frioul, and directed his march towards the territory of the Greek empire, over the savage mountains and through the equally savage nations of Dalmatia.[68]

Alexis, who had implored the assistance of the Latins, was terrified when he learnt the numbers of his liberators. The leaders of the crusade were only princes of the second order, but they drew with them all the forces of the West. Anna Comnena compares the multitude of the Crusaders to the sands of the sea or the stars of the heavens, and their innumerable bands to torrents which unite to form a great river.[69] Alexis had learnt to dread BohÉmond on the plains of Durazzo and Larissa. Although he was less acquainted with the courage and ability of the other Latin princes, he repented of having imparted to them the secret of his weakness by asking their aid. His alarms, which were increased by the predictions of astrologers and the opinions spread among his people, became more serious as the Crusaders advanced towards his capital.[70]

Seated on a throne from which he had hurled his master and benefactor, he could have no faith in virtue, and was better aware than another what ambition might dictate. He had displayed some courage in gaining the purple, but only governed by dissimulation,—the ordinary policy of the Greeks and all weak states. If Anna Comnena has made an accomplished prince of him, the Latins have represented him as a perfidious and cruel monarch. Impartial history, which alike rejects the exaggerations of eulogy or satire, can see nothing in Alexis but a weak ruler, of a superstitious character, led away much more by a love of vain splendour and display than by any passion for glory. He had it in his power to put himself at the head of the Crusaders, and reconquer Asia Minor, by marching with the Latins to Jerusalem. This great enterprize alarmed his weakness. His timid prudence made him believe that it would be sufficient to deceive the Crusaders to have nothing to fear from them, and to receive a vain homage from them in order to profit by their victories. Everything appeared good and just to him which would assist in extricating him from a position of which his policy increased the dangers, and which the unsteadiness of his projects made every day more embarrassing. The more earnestly he endeavoured to inspire confidence, the more suspicious he rendered his good faith. By seeking to inspire fear, he discovered all the alarms which he himself experienced. As soon as he had notice of the march of the princes of the crusade, he sent them ambassadors to compliment them, and to penetrate their intentions. In the meanwhile, he placed troops everywhere to harass them on their passage.

The count de Vermandois, cast by a tempest on the shores of Epirus, received the greatest honours from the governor of Durazzo, and was led a prisoner to Constantinople by the orders of Alexis. The Greek emperor hoped that the brother of the king of France would become, in his hands, a hostage that might protect him from the enterprizes of the Latins; but he only awakened suspicion, and provoked the hatred of the leaders of the crusade. Godfrey de Bouillon had arrived at Philippopoli, when he heard of the captivity of the count de Vermandois. He sent to the emperor to demand instant reparation for this outrage; and as the deputies reported but an unfavourable answer, he restrained neither his own indignation nor the fury of his army. The lands through which they passed were treated as an enemy’s country, and during eight days the fertile plains of Thrace became the theatre of war. The crowd of Greeks who fled towards the capital soon informed the emperor of the terrible vengeance of the Latins. Alexis, terrified at the fruits of his own policy, implored the pardon of his prisoner, and promised to restore him his liberty when the French should have arrived at the gates of Constantinople. This promise appeased Godfrey, who caused the war to cease, and resumed his march, treating the Greeks everywhere as friends and allies.

In the meanwhile, Alexis employed every effort to obtain from the count de Vermandois the oath of obedience and fidelity, hoping that his submission would lead to that of the other princes of the crusade, and that he should have less to fear from their ambition if he could reckon them in the number of his vassals. The brother of the king of France, who, on arriving in the territories of the empire, had written letters filled with pride and ostentation, could not resist the caresses and presents of the emperor, and took all the oaths that were required of him. On the arrival of Godfrey, he appeared in the camp of the Crusaders, who rejoiced at his deliverance, but could not pardon him for having yielded submission to a foreign monarch. Cries of indignation arose around him when he endeavoured to persuade Godfrey to follow his example. The more gentle and submissive he had shown himself in his captivity, the more strong became the opposition and resistance to the will of the emperor of his companions, who had drawn their swords to avenge the insult offered to him.

Alexis refused them provisions, and thought to reduce them by famine; but the Latins were accustomed to obtain all they wanted by violence and victory. At the signal of their leader, they dispersed themselves over the surrounding country, pillaged the villages and the palaces near the capital, and, by force, brought abundance to their camp. This disorder lasted several days; but the festival of Christmas was approaching, and the epoch of the birth of Christ revived generous sentiments in the breasts of the Christian soldiers and the pious Godfrey. Advantage was taken of these feelings to bring about peace. The emperor granted provisions, and the Crusaders sheathed their swords.

But it was impossible for harmony to subsist long between the Greeks and the Latins. The Latins haughtily boasted of having come to the rescue of the empire. On all occasions they spoke and acted as masters. The Greeks despised the barbarous courage of the Latins, and placing all their glory in the refinement of their manners, believed that they disgraced the language of Greece when pronouncing the names of the warriors of the West. The rupture which had for a long time subsisted between the churches of Rome and Constantinople, increased the antipathy which the difference of manners and customs had given birth to. On both sides anathemas were launched, and the theologians of Greece and Italy detested each other more than they detested the Saracens. The Greeks, who employed themselves in nothing but vain subtleties, had never been willing to place in the list of martyrs those who had died fighting against the infidels. They abhorred the martial character of the Latin clergy, boasted that they possessed in their capital all the relics of the East, and could not understand what they could be going to seek at Jerusalem. On their side, the Franks could not pardon the subjects of Alexis for not partaking in their enthusiasm for the crusade, and reproached them with a culpable indifference for the cause of God. All these motives of discord and hatred provoked frequent scenes of violence, in which the Greeks displayed more perfidy than courage, and the Latins more valour than moderation.

Throughout all these divisions Alexis constantly sought to obtain from Godfrey the oath of obedience and fidelity; sometimes he employed protestations of friendship, sometimes he threatened to exercise powers that he did not possess. Godfrey braved his menaces, and placed no faith in his promises. The imperial and the Latin troops were twice called to arms, and Constantinople, badly defended by its soldiers, had cause to fear beholding the standard of the Crusaders floating over its walls.

The report of these serious quarrels conveyed joy to the heart of BohÉmond, who had just landed at Durazzo. He believed the time was come to attack the Greek empire, and to divide the spoils. He sent envoys to Godfrey, to invite him to take possession of Byzantium, promising to join him with all his forces, for the prosecution of this great enterprize. But Godfrey did not forget that he had taken up arms for the defence of the holy sepulchre, and rejected the proposal of BohÉmond, reminding him of the oath he had taken to fight against the infidels.

This embassy to BohÉmond, the object of which could not be concealed, redoubled the alarm of Alexis, and made him employ every means to subdue the firmness of Godfrey de Bouillon. He sent his own son as a hostage to the army of the Crusaders. From that time all mistrust was dissipated. The princes of the West swore to respect the laws of hospitality, and repaired to the palace of Alexis. They found the emperor surrounded by a splendid court, and entirely occupied in endeavouring to conceal his weakness under an exterior of vain magnificence. The chief of the Crusaders, and the princes and knights who accompanied him, in an apparel on which shone the martial luxury of the West, bowed before the throne of the emperor, and bent the knee to a mute and motionless majesty. After this ceremony, during which the Greeks and the Latins must have afforded each other a strange spectacle, Alexis adopted Godfrey for his son, and placed the empire under the protection of his arms. The Crusaders engaged to replace the cities they had taken belonging to the empire in the hands of the emperor, and to pay him homage for the other conquests they might make. Alexis, on his part, promised to aid them by land and by sea, to furnish them with provisions, and to share the perils and the glory of their expedition.

Alexis considered this homage of the Latin princes as a victory. The leaders of the Crusaders returned beneath their tents, where his gratitude loaded them with presents. Whilst Godfrey caused it to be proclaimed in his army by sound of trumpet, that the most profound respect for the emperor and the laws of Constantinople should be preserved, Alexis ordered all his subjects to carry provisions to the Franks, and to observe the laws of hospitality. The alliance they had just made appeared to have been sworn to in good faith on both sides; but Alexis could not destroy the prejudices the Greeks entertained against the Latins, nor could Godfrey restrain the turbulent multitude of his soldiers. Besides, the emperor of Byzantium, although he might feel reassured as to the intentions of the duke of Lorraine, still dreaded the arrival of BohÉmond, and the union of several large armies in the neighbourhood of his capital. He engaged Godfrey to pass with his troops over to the Asiatic shore of the Bosphorus, and turned his attention to whatever means his policy could suggest to abate the pride, and even to diminish the powers of the other Latin princes who were marching towards Constantinople.

The prince of Tarentum was advancing through Macedonia, now listening to the harangues of the deputies from Alexis, and now contending with the troops which opposed his passage. Several provinces and several cities had been ravaged by the Italian and Norman Crusaders, when their chief received an invitation from the emperor to precede his army, and come to Constantinople. Alexis made BohÉmond protestations of friendship, in which the latter placed no faith, but from which he hoped to reap some advantage. He, on his part, declared his good feeling, and went to meet Alexis. The emperor received him with a magnificence proportionate to the fear he entertained of his arrival. These two princes were equally skilled in the arts of seducing and deceiving. The greater cause they had to complain of each other, the warmer were their protestations of friendship. They complimented each other publicly on their victories, and concealed their suspicions, and perhaps their contempt, under an exterior of reciprocal admiration. Both unscrupulous on the subject of oaths, Alexis promised vast domains to BohÉmond, and the Norman hero swore without hesitation to be the most faithful of the vassals of the emperor.

Robert, count of Flanders, the duke of Normandy, and Stephen, count of Chartres and Blois, as they arrived at Constantinople, rendered their homage, in their turn, to the Greek emperor, and received, as others had done, the reward of their submission. The count of Thoulouse, who arrived the last, at first answered the messengers of Alexis, that he was not come into the East to seek a master. The emperor, to bend the pride of Raymond and his ProvenÇals, was obliged to stoop to them.[71] He flattered by turns their avarice and their vanity, and took more pains to show them his treasures than his armies. In states in their decay it is not uncommon for wealth to be mistaken for power, and the prince believes he reigns over all hearts as long as he possesses the means of corrupting them. Ceremonial was, besides, at the court of Constantinople, the most serious and the most important of all things; but whatever value may be attached to vain formulÆ, we cannot but be astonished to see warriors so haughty, who went to conquer empires, on their knees before a prince who trembled with the fear of losing his own. They made him pay dearly for an uncertain and transient submission, and not unfrequently contempt was apparent through their outward marks of respect.

During a ceremony in which Alexis received the homage of several French princes, Count Robert of Paris advanced to seat himself by the side of the emperor. Baldwin of Hainaut pulled him by the arm, and said, “You should remember, when you are in a foreign country, you ought to respect its customs.” “Truly!” replied Robert, “this is a pleasant clown who is seated, whilst so many illustrious captains are standing!” Alexis was desirous of having his words explained to him, and when the counts were gone, he retained Robert, and asked him what were his birth and country. “I am a Frenchman,” replied Robert, “and of the most illustrious rank of nobles. I only know one thing, and that is, that in my country there is a place near a church to which all repair who burn with a desire to signalize their valour. I have often been there without anybody yet having dared to present himself before me.” The emperor took care not to accept this kind of challenge, and endeavoured to conceal his surprise and vexation by giving some useful advice to the daring warrior. “If you waited then,” said he, “without meeting enemies, you are now going where you will find enough to satisfy you. But do not put yourself either at the head or the tail of the army; remain in the centre. I have learnt how to fight with the Turks; and that is the best place you can choose.”