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THIRD CRUSADE.

A.D. 1148-1188.

We cannot help being convinced, whilst reading this history, that the religion of Mahomet, thoroughly warlike as it is in principle, does not endue its disciples with that obstinate bravery, that boundless devotedness, of which the Crusaders presented so many examples. The fanaticism of the Mussulmans required victory to keep up its power or its violence. Bred in a conviction of blind fatalism, they were accustomed to consider successes or reverses as simple decrees of Heaven; victorious, they were full of ardour and confidence; conquered, they were depressed, and without shame succumbed to an enemy, whom they believed to be the instrument of destiny. An ambition for renown seldom excited their courage, and even in the excesses of their warlike fervour, the fear of chastisements and punishments kept their faces towards the enemy more frequently than any generous love of glory. A chief, whom they themselves dreaded, was the only captain that could lead them to victory; and thus despotism became necessary to their valour.

After the conquest of the Christians, the dynasties of the Saracens and the Turks were dispersed and almost annihilated; the Seljoucides themselves had fallen back to the very extremities of Persia, and the people of Syria scarcely knew the names of those princes whose ancestors had reigned over Asia. Everything, even despotism, was destroyed in the East. The ambition of the emirs took advantage of the general disorder: slaves shared the spoils of their masters; provinces and cities became so many principalities, the uncertain and transient possession of which was a constant subject of dispute. The necessity for defending the Mussulman religion, whilst threatened by the Christians, had alone preserved the credit of the caliphs of Bagdad. They were still the chiefs of Islamism; their approbation seemed necessary for the preservation of the power of usurpers or conquerors; but their authority, which was nothing but a sacred phantom, commanded nothing but prayers and vain ceremonies, and inspired not the least fear. In this state of degradation their only employment seemed to be to consecrate the fruit of treachery and violence. It was not sufficient to bestow cities and employments which they had no power to refuse; all whom victory and license had favoured came to prostrate themselves before the vicars of the prophet; and crowds of emirs, viziers, and sultans, to borrow an Eastern expression, appeared to rise from the dust of their feet.

The Christians were not sufficiently aware of the state of Asia, which they might have conquered; and agreed so ill among themselves that they could never take advantage of the divisions which prevailed among their enemies. They seldom had, either in attack or defence, a well-sustained plan, and their impetuous bravery, directed generally by chance or passion, could only be compared to the tempest, whose fury rages or abates at the pleasure of the winds which reign over the horizon. Fortune, which had offered them such a brilliant opportunity for extending their empire, became, at last, adverse to them, and from the bosom of the chaos in which the East was plunged, arose a formidable power, which was destined to conquer and destroy them.

Noureddin, son of Zengui, who had obtained possession of Edessa before the second crusade, had inherited the conquests of his father, and added to them by his valour. He was bred among warriors who had sworn to shed their blood in the cause of the Prophet, and when he mounted the throne he revived the austere simplicity of the early caliphs. Noureddin, says an Arabian poet, united the most noble heroism with the profoundest humility. When he prayed in the temple, his subjects believed they saw a sanctuary in another sanctuary. He encouraged the sciences, cultivated letters, and, above all, applied himself to the maintenance of justice throughout his states. His people admired his clemency and moderation; and the Christians even were forced to praise his courage and his profane heroism. After the example of his father Zengui, he made himself the idol of his soldiers by his liberality; by taking charge of their families, he prevented their desire for the possession of lands, and thus accustomed them to consider the camp as their home and their country. In the midst of armies which he had himself formed, and which respected in him the avenger of the Prophet, he restrained the ambition of the emirs, and directed their efforts and their zeal towards one sole object, the triumph of Islamism. His victories, his fortune, his religious and political virtues drew upon him the attention of the entire East, and made the Mussulmans believe that the period of their deliverance had arrived.

Baldwin III., who undertook to stop the career of Noureddin, displayed great valour in several battles. The most important and the most fortunate of his expeditions was the taking of Ascalon, in which the Mussulmans always kept up a formidable garrison. This city, which is situated in a fertile plain, and which the Mussulmans call the Spouse of Syria, was succoured by an Egyptian fleet, and for a long time resisted all the efforts of the Christians. Rivers of blood flowed before its walls during several months; both Mussulmans and Christians fighting with fury, and neither giving nor receiving quarter. During the siege the knights of the Temple particularly distinguished themselves by their valour; the thirst for booty, far more than the love of glory, making them brave the greatest perils. The garrison and the inhabitants, exhausted by fatigue and pinched by famine, at length opened the gates of the city. Baldwin granted them a capitulation, permitted them to retire into Egypt with their families, and caused a Te Deum to be sung in the great mosque, which he consecrated to St. Paul.

After this victory the king of Jerusalem marched to encounter Noureddin, and compelled him to raise the sieges of both Paneas and Sidon. Baldwin was engaged in assisting the principality of Antioch, always disturbed by factions, always threatened by the Mussulmans, when he was poisoned by a Syrian physician. As soon as he became sensible of his danger, he set out for Jerusalem, and died in the city of Berouth. His remains were transported to the holy city, the clergy coming out to meet the funeral train. The people descended from the mountains to join the procession, and through the country and in the cities nothing was heard but lamentations. Noureddin himself, if we are to believe a Christian historian,[294] was affected by the sorrow of the Franks. Some of his emirs advising him to take advantage of this melancholy occasion to enter Palestine, “God forbid,” replied he, “that I should disturb the proper grief of a people who are weeping for the loss of so good a king, or fix upon such an opportunity to attack a kingdom which I have no reason to fear.” Remarkable words, which at once denote two great men, and which further show what a serious loss the Christians had sustained.

As soon as the funeral ceremonies of Baldwin III. were over, warm debates arose upon the choice of a successor. The greater part of the barons and knights attached to the memory of Baldwin proposed to call to the throne his brother Amaury, count of Jaffa and Ascalon. This party was the most reasonable and the most conformable to the laws and interests of the kingdom; but the brother of Baldwin, by the haughtiness of his deportment, had made himself many enemies among the people, the clergy, and the army. He was reproached with an ambition and an avarice fatal to the interests of the Christians; and he was accused of not being restrained by honour, justice, or even the precepts of religion,[295] in the execution of his projects. His partisans extolled his active and enterprising character, his bravery so often proved, and his great skill in war. Among the nobles of the kingdom who opposed his succession, and attributed to him ambitious views much to be dreaded, were several who themselves nourished aspiring projects, and allowed themselves to be seduced by the hope of ascending the throne. The conflicting parties were on the point of taking up arms to sustain their pretensions or their hopes, when the grand master of the Hospitallers exhorted the barons and knights to preserve the peace and the laws of the kingdom by crowning young Amaury. “The crown,” said he to them, “which you refuse to place upon the head of a Christian prince will soon be upon that of Noureddin or of the caliph of Egypt. If this misfortune should happen, you will become the slaves of the infidels, and the world will accuse you of having opened the gates of the holy city to the Saracens, as the traitor Judas gave up the Saviour of the world into the hands of his enemies.” This speech, and the sight of the troops which Amaury had already collected to defend his rights, disarmed the factions which disturbed the kingdom. The brother of Baldwin was crowned in the Holy Sepulchre, and received the oaths of allegiance of those even who had openly declared themselves opposed to his claims.

As soon as Amaury had ascended the throne, he directed all his energies towards Egypt, now weakened by the victories of the Christians. The caliph of Cairo having refused to pay the tribute due to the conquerors of Ascalon, the new king of Jerusalem placed himself at the head of his army, traversed the desert, carried the terror of his arms to the banks of the Nile, and only returned to his kingdom when he had forced the Egyptians to purchase peace. The state in which Egypt was then placed was likely soon to recall the Christians thither; and happy would it have been for them if they had known how to profit by their advantages; and if their fruitless attempts had not served to favour the progress of a rival power.

Egypt was at that time the theatre of a civil war, occasioned by the ambition of two leaders who disputed the empire of it. For a length of time the caliphs of Cairo, like those of Bagdad, shut up in their seraglio, had borne no resemblance to the warrior from whom they derived their origin, who had said, whilst pointing to his soldiers and his sword, “These are my family and my race.” Enervated by effeminacy and pleasures, they had abandoned the government to their slaves, who adored them on their knees, and imposed laws upon them. They no longer exercised any real authority but in the mosques, and only preserved the disgraceful privilege of confirming the usurped power of the viziers, who corrupted the armies, disturbed the provinces, and in the field of battle quarrelled with each other for the right of reigning over both people and prince.

Each of the viziers, to secure the triumph of his cause, called in by turns the arms of the neighbouring powers. On the arrival of these dangerous auxiliaries, all was in confusion on the banks of the Nile. Blood flowed in all the provinces, sometimes shed by the executioners, sometimes by the soldiers; Egypt was at once desolated by its enemies, its allies, and its inhabitants.

Chaver, who, amidst these revolutions, had raised himself from the humble condition of a slave to the post of vizier, had been conquered and displaced by Dargan, one of the principal officers of the Egyptian militia. Obliged to fly and abandon Egypt, where his rival reigned, he went to seek an asylum at Damascus, imploring the assistance of Noureddin, and promising a considerable tribute if that prince would furnish him with troops to protect his return into Egypt. The sultan of Damascus yielded to the prayers of Chaver. To command the army which he resolved to send into Egypt, he selected Chirkou, the most skilful of his emirs, who having always shown himself cruel and implacable in his military expeditions, was likely to be without pity for the vanquished, and to take all advantage of the miseries of a civil war, for the benefit of his master. The vizier Dargan was not long in being warned of the projects of Chaver and the preparations of Noureddin. To resist the storm about to burst upon him, he implored the aid of the Christians of Palestine, and promised to give up his treasures to them if they succeeded in preserving his power.

Whilst the king of Jerusalem, seduced by this promise, was collecting an army, Chaver, accompanied by the troops of Noureddin, crossed the desert, and approached the banks of the Nile. Dargan, who came out to meet him with the Egyptian army, was conquered by the Syrians, and lost his life in the battle. The city of Cairo soon opened its gates to the conqueror. Chaver,[296] whom the victory had delivered from his enemy, shed torrents of blood in the capital to insure his triumph, received amid the general consternation the congratulations of the caliph, and resumed the reins of government.

It was not long, however, before divisions arose between the general of Noureddin, who daily placed a more excessive price on his services, and the vizier, whom Chirkou accused of perfidy and ingratitude. Chaver desired in vain to send the Mussulmans back into Syria; they replied to him only by threats, and he was on the point of being besieged in Cairo by his own deliverers. All the Egyptians, particularly the people of the capital, were seized with trouble and consternation.

In the midst of so pressing a danger, the vizier Chaver placed his only hope in the Christian warriors, whose approach he had not long since so much dreaded. He made the king of Jerusalem the same promises that he had offered to Noureddin; and Amaury, who only wanted to enter Egypt, whatever might be the party that prevailed there, set out upon his march to defend Chaver with the very same army he had collected to fight against him. When arrived on the banks of the Nile, he united his troops with those of the vizier, and they sat down before the city of Bilbeis, into which Chirkou had retired. Noureddin’s general resisted during three months all the attacks of the Christians and Egyptians; and when the king of Jerusalem proposed peace to him, he demanded payment of the expenses of the war. After some negotiations, in which he displayed great haughtiness, he marched out of Bilbeis still threatening the Christians, and led back his army to Damascus, loaded with the spoils of his enemies.

Chirkou had beheld the riches of Egypt, and become acquainted with the weakness of its government; the first advice he offered to Noureddin, after his arrival, therefore, was to endeavour to unite this rich country to his own empire. The sultan of Syria sent ambassadors to the caliph of Bagdad, not to ask aid of him, but to give a religious colour to his enterprise. During several centuries, the caliphs of Bagdad and Cairo had been divided by an implacable hatred; each of them boasting of being the vicar of the Prophet, and considering his rival as the enemy of God. In the mosques of Bagdad, they cursed the caliphs of Egypt and their sectarians; in those of Cairo, they devoted to the infernal powers, the Abassides and their partisans.

The caliph of Bagdad did not hesitate to comply with the wishes of Noureddin. Whilst the sultan of Syria was solely occupied by his endeavours to extend his empire, the vicar of the Prophet was only ambitious to preside alone over the Mussulman religion. He commanded the Imans to preach a war against the Fatimites, and promised the delights of Paradise to all who should take up arms in the holy expedition. At the call of the caliph, a great number of faithful Mussulmans flocked to the standard of Noureddin, and Chirkou, by the order of the sultan, prepared to return into Egypt, at the head of a powerful army.

The fame of these preparations spread throughout the East, particularly in Egypt, where it created the most serious alarms. Amaury, who had returned to his own states, received ambassadors from Chaver, soliciting his help and alliance against the enterprise of Noureddin. The states of the kingdom of Jerusalem were assembled at Naplouse, and the king there exposed to them the advantages of another expedition into Egypt. An impost was levied to carry on a war from which the greatest hopes were entertained, and the Christian army soon set out from Gaza to fight with the troops of Noureddin on the banks of the Nile.

In the mean time Chirkou was crossing the desert, where he encountered the greatest dangers. A violent tempest surprised him on his march; all at once the heavens were darkened, and the earth, which was strewed with the prostrate Syrians, became like a stormy sea. Immense waves of sand were lifted by the winds, and rising into whirlwinds or forming moving mountains, scattered, bore away, or swallowed up men and horses. In this tempest the Syrian army abandoned its baggage and lost its provisions and arms, and when Chirkou arrived on the banks of the Nile, he had no means of defence left except the remembrance of his former victories. He took great care to conceal the losses he had experienced, and the wreck of an army dispersed by a fearful tempest proved sufficient to throw all the cities of Egypt into consternation.

The vizier Chaver, frightened at the approach of the Syrians, sent ambassadors to the Christians, to promise them immense riches, and press them to hasten their march. On his side, the king of Jerusalem deputed to the caliph of Egypt, Hugh of CÆsarea, and Foulcher, a knight of the Temple, to obtain the ratification of the treaty of alliance with the Egyptians. Amaury’s deputies were introduced into a palace in which no Christian had ever before been admitted. After having traversed several corridors filled with Moorish guards, and a vast number of apartments and courts in which glittered all the splendour of the East, they arrived in a hall, or rather a sanctuary, where the caliph awaited them, seated on a throne shining with gold and precious stones. Chaver, who conducted them, prostrated himself at the feet of his master, and supplicated him to accept the treaty of alliance with the king of Jerusalem. The prayer of the vizier was an imperious order, and the commander of the faithful, always docile to the will of the lowest of his slaves, made a sign of approbation, and stretched his uncovered hand out to the Christian deputies in presence of the officers of his court, whom so strange a spectacle filled with grief and surprise.

The army of the Franks was close to Cairo; but as the policy of Amaury was to lengthen the war, in order to prolong his stay in Egypt, he neglected opportunities of attacking the Syrians with advantage, and gave them time to recruit their strength. After having left them a long time in repose, he gave them battle in the isle of Maalle, and forced their intrenchments, but did not follow up his victory. Chirkou, in his retreat, endeavoured to reanimate the depressed courage of the soldiers of Noureddin, the latter not having yet forgotten the evils they had encountered in the passage over the desert. This calamity, still recent, together with the first victory of the Christians, destroyed the confidence they had in their arms and the protection of the Prophet. One of the lieutenants of Chirkou, upon witnessing their gloomy rage, cried out in the midst of the Mussulman army: “You who fear death or slavery, return into Syria; go and tell Noureddin that to repay him for the benefits with which he has loaded you, you abandon Egypt to the infidels, in order to shut yourselves up in your seraglios with women and children.”

These words reanimated the zeal and fanaticism of the Syrian warriors. The Franks and the Egyptians who pursued the army of Chirkou, were conquered in a battle, and forced to abandon in disorder the hills of Baben,[297] where they had pitched their tents. The general of Noureddin took all possible advantage of his victory; he passed as a conqueror along the fertile banks of the Nile; penetrated, without encountering an obstacle, into lower Egypt; placed a garrison in Alexandria; and returned to lay siege to the city of Koutz, the capital of the Thebais. The ability with which Chirkou had disciplined his army, and planned the last battle he had fought with his enemies; his marches and his counter-marches in the plains and valleys of Egypt, from the tropic to the sea, announced the progress of the Mussulmans in military tactics, and warned the Christians beforehand of the enemy that was destined to put an end to their victories and conquests.

The Turks defended themselves during several months in Alexandria, against the seditions of the inhabitants and the numerous assaults of the Christians. They at length obtained an honourable capitulation, and as their army was becoming weaker every day by famine and fatigue, they retired a second time to Damascus, after exacting very dear payment for the transient tranquillity in which they left the people of Egypt.

After the retreat of the Syrians, the vizier Chaver hastened to send back the Christians, whose presence made him very uneasy. He engaged to pay the king of Jerusalem an annual tribute of a hundred thousand crowns in gold, and consented to receive a garrison in Cairo. He loaded the barons and knights with rich presents, and the soldiers even had a share in his bounties, proportionate to the fear the Franks inspired him with. The Christian warriors returned to Jerusalem, bearing with them riches which dazzled both people and nobles, and inspired them with other thoughts than that of defending the heritage of Christ.

As Amaury returned to his capital, the sight of his mountainous and sterile provinces, the poverty of his subjects, and the narrow limits of his kingdom, made him deeply regret having missed the opportunity of conquering a great empire. Soon after his return he married a niece of the emperor Manuel; but whilst the people and his court gave themselves up to joy, and put up vows for the prosperity of his family and his kingdom, one single thought occupied him night and day, and haunted him even amongst the most sumptuous and brilliant festivities. The riches of the caliph of Cairo, the populousness and fertility of Egypt, its numerous fleets, and the commodiousness of its ports, presented themselves constantly to the mind of Amaury. His first endeavour was to make the marriage he had just contracted subservient to his projects, and he sent ambassadors to Constantinople, with instructions to induce Manuel to assist him in the conquest of Egypt. Manuel approved of the plans of the king of Jerusalem, and promised to send him fleets and share with him the glory and perils of a conquest which must so deeply interest the Christian world. Then Amaury hesitated no longer to declare his designs, and called together the barons and principal people of his kingdom. In this assembly, in which it was proposed to invade Egypt, the wisest among whom was the grand master of the Templars, declared loudly and decidedly that the undertaking was unjust. “The Christians,” said they, “ought not to set the Mussulmans the example of violating treaties. It perhaps would not be a difficult matter to obtain possession of Egypt, but it would not be so easy to keep it as to conquer it. Noureddin was the most formidable enemy of the Christians; it was against him they should bring all the united forces of the kingdom to bear. Egypt must belong to the power that should remain ruler of Syria, and it was not prudent or wise to endeavour to anticipate the favours of fortune, and send armies into a country of which they should only open the gates to the son of Zengui, as they had done in the instance of Damascus. They would sacrifice Christian cities, Jerusalem itself, to the hope of conquering a kingdom. Noureddin had already taken advantage of the king of Jerusalem’s being engaged on the banks of the Nile, to get possession of several places which belonged to the Christians. Bohemond prince of Antioch, and Raymond count of Tripoli, had been made prisoners of war, and groaned in the chains of the Mussulmans, as victims of an ambition which had seduced the king of Jerusalem far from his kingdom and the Christian colonies of which he ought to be the support and defender.”

The knights and barons who expressed themselves thus, added that the sight alone of Egypt would not fail to corrupt the Christian warriors, and enervate the courage and subdue the patriotism of the inhabitants and defenders of Palestine. These opinions, however prudent and just, had no effect upon the king of Jerusalem and the partisans of the war, among whom was conspicuous the grand master of the Hospitallers, who had exhausted the riches of his order by extravagant expenses, and had raised troops for whose pay he had assigned the treasures of Egypt. The greater part of the lords and knights, to whom fortune seemed to be waiting on the banks of the Nile in order to bestow upon them her favours, suffered themselves to be easily persuaded to the war, and found it very convenient to consider as an enemy the sovereign of a country which held out so rich a booty to them.

Whilst these preparations for the conquest of Egypt were in agitation in Jerusalem, the same projects occupied the emirs and the council of Noureddin. On his return from the banks of the Nile, Chirkou had announced to the sultan of Damascus, “that the government of Cairo wanted both officers and soldiers; and that revolutions, the cupidity of the Franks, and the presence of the Syrians, had weakened and ruined the empire of the Fatimites. The Egyptian people,” added he, “accustomed to change masters, were neither attached to the caliph, whom they did not know, nor to the vizier, who brought upon them all sorts of calamities. They were ready to submit to the domination of a prince who should be powerful enough to protect them against both their enemies and the scourge of civil wars. The Christians were likewise aware how feeble this empire was, and it was to be dreaded that they would be the first. Such a favourable opportunity should not be neglected, or a conquest despised which fortune appeared to offer to the first power that should make its appearance in Egypt.”

Thus the king of Jerusalem and the sultan of Damascus entertained the same views, and both made preparations for the same conquest. In the churches of the Christians, as in the mosques of the Mussulmans, prayers were put up for the success of a war about to be carried on on the banks of the Nile. As each of the two parties sought to give the best colour to their projects and proceedings, at Damascus it was asserted that the caliph of Egypt had made an impious alliance with the disciples of Christ, whilst at Jerusalem it was asserted that the vizier Chaver, in defiance of treaties, kept up a perfidious correspondence with Noureddin.

The Christians were the first to violate their treaties. Amaury set out at the head of a numerous army, and appeared in the character of an enemy before Belbeis, which place he had promised to the knights of St. John, as a reward for the ardour and zeal they had shown for his expedition. This city, situated on the right bank of the Nile, was besieged, taken by assault, and after being pillaged, consigned to the flames.

The misfortunes of Belbeis spread consternation throughout Egypt, and the people, irritated at the account of the cruelties practised by the Franks, took up arms and drove the Christian garrison out of Cairo. Chaver assembled troops in the provinces, fortified the capital, and set fire to the ancient city of Fostat, which burnt for more than six weeks. The caliph of Cairo again implored the assistance of Noureddin, and to excite his pity and prove his distress, he sent him in a letter the hair of the women of his seraglio. The sultan of Damascus attended with joy to the prayers of the caliph of Egypt, and as an army was ready to march, he gave orders to Chirkou to cross the desert and hasten to the banks of the Nile.

Whilst the Syrians were coming to the aid of Egypt, threatened by the Christians, Chaver employed every means in his power to stop the king of Jerusalem in his march, and suspend in his hands the thunderbolt ready to fall upon Egypt. Ambassadors were sent to implore the pity of Amaury, and to give some weight to their prayers, offered him two millions of crowns of gold. The offer of so enormous a sum, which Egypt, for so long a time devastated, could not possibly have furnished, seduced the king of the Christians, who was as much influenced by a love of gold as an ambition for conquests. He allowed himself to be thus deceived by the Mussulmans, to whom he himself had been wanting in faith; and whilst he was waiting for the treasures they had promised him, the Egyptians restored the fortifications of their cities, and assembled everywhere in arms. The Christians looked in vain for the fleets promised by Manuel, and soon, instead of welcoming auxiliaries, they learnt that Chirkou had arrived for the third time in Egypt at the head of a formidable army. Then Amaury opened his eyes, and set about repairing his error. He flew to meet the Syrians, and offer them battle; but their general avoided the encounter, and united his forces with those of the Egyptians. The evil was irreparable; the king of Jerusalem could not resist the two united armies, and ashamed of being deceived by those whom he had himself sought to deceive, he returned to his kingdom, and was pursued to the verge of the desert by the troops of Noureddin.

Before the enterprise, hopes of success had dazzled the minds of all; but when it had failed, they, as generally, perceived the injustice of it. The Christians all became aware of the evils with which Jerusalem was menaced, and reproached Amaury with not being able to preserve peace, or knowing how to make war. In the mean time Noureddin’s general entered the capital of Egypt in triumph.

Chirkou hoisted his standard on the towers of Cairo, and Egypt, which thought it had received a liberator into its bosom, soon found that he was a master. Chaver paid with his life the evils he had inflicted upon his country; he was killed in the camp of Chirkou, and his authority became the reward of the conqueror. The caliph, who, in order to save himself, had demanded the head of his first minister appointed the general of Noureddin as his successor, styling him in his letters, the victorious prince. It was thus that the degraded monarch of Egypt jested with his own favours by flattering a man he did not know, and for whose death he was, most likely, desirous; an image of blind fortune, who scatters at hazard good and evil, and views her favourites and her victims with equal indifference.

Some time after, the caliph of Cairo, always invisible in his palace, was deposed by the orders of Noureddin, and died peaceably without knowing that he had lost his empire. His treasures served to appease the murmurs of the people and the soldiery; the black flag of the Abassides displaced the green standard of the children of Ali, and the name of the caliph of Bagdad was heard of only in the mosques. The dynasty of the Fatimites, which reigned more than two centuries, and for which so much blood had been shed, was extinguished in a single day, and found not even one defender. From that time the Mussulmans had only one religion and one cause to defend; Egypt and Syria obeyed the same chief, and the richest provinces of the East were united under the powerful hand of Noureddin.

The sultan of Aleppo and Damascus had spread the terror of his arms from the banks of the Euphrates and the Tigris to the sources of the Nile; he had everywhere governors and armies; and posts of pigeons, which he had established, carried at the same time his orders into the principal cities of Egypt, Syria, and Mesopotamia. The justice of his laws and his victories over the Christians had created for him such a reputation for sanctity among the Mussulmans, that a shower of rain which fell in the midst of a drought, was considered by them as a miracle granted to his prayers. During the war of Egypt he had taken several fortresses belonging to the Franks; and the destruction of the Christian colonies was still the aim of all his labours and all his exploits. Full of confidence in the protection of Mahomet, the devout Noureddin employed his leisure in constructing, with his own hands, a pulpit, which he meant himself to place in the principal mosque of Jerusalem.

The sultan of Damascus was preparing to commence what the Mussulmans called a sacred war, and for the success of which public prayers had been offered up, but this glory was reserved for a young warrior brought up in armies, whose name was yet unknown in the East.

Saladin,[298] this young warrior, was sprung from the people who inhabit the mountains situated beyond the Tigris. His father Ayoub, and his uncle Chirkou, after the example of the warriors of their nation, who fight for pay under Mussulman powers, had left Curdistan to serve in the troops of the sultan of Bagdad. They had both attained high military employments; but Chirkou, a violent and brutal man, having run through the body with his sword an officer of justice, the two brothers were obliged to take to flight, and came to offer their services to the Attabeks of Syria, whom they assisted in their wars against the Christians. The young Saladin, although he was brought up at the court of Damascus, under the eye of an ambitious father, did not at first appear to be eager for either fortune or glory. In his youth he was fond of dissipation and pleasures, and remained a long time a stranger to the cares of politics or the dangers and labours of war. Having followed his uncle Chirkou in his first expeditions to Egypt, he had distinguished himself by the defence of Alexandria; but he suffered so much, that when Noureddin commanded him to return to the banks of the Nile, he sought pretexts to avoid obedience. When the sultan repeated his orders, Saladin set out, as he himself said afterwards, with the despair of a man who is led to death. “Thus it is,” says the historian Hamad Eddin, who was for a long time his secretary, “that men know not what they refuse or what they desire; but God, who knows all things, sports with their designs, which always terminate according to the views of Providence.”

At the death of Chirkou, the caliph of Egypt, who trembled for his power, named Saladin to the post of vizier, because he thought him the least capable, by his talents or reputation, of usurping the supreme authority. The son of Ayoub deceived both the king and the army, who saw in him nothing but a young dissipated soldier, without ambition. But he changed his conduct and reformed his manners; hitherto he had appeared fit only for the idleness and the obscurity of a seraglio; but, all at once, he came forth a new man, like one born for empire. His gravity inspired the respect of the emirs; his liberality secured him the suffrages of the army; and the austerity of his devotion rendered him dear to all true believers. A religious revolution which he brought about without trouble or the effusion of blood, made known his prudence and humanity, and showed that fortune destined him for extraordinary things. The caliph of Bagdad felicitated him publicly with having annihilated the sect of the Fatimites, and made him a present of a vest of honour. His name was celebrated by the poets, and mixed with those of Mahomet and Noureddin in the public prayers.

Saladin, master of Egypt, sent for his father Ayoub, and wished to associate him with himself in the government. When Ayoub arrived at Cairo with all his family, he was compared to Jacob, and Saladin to the patriarch Joseph, whose name he bore. Aided by the counsels of his father, Saladin stifled all plots devised against him, and restrained the ambition and jealousy of the emirs.

In a council in which his son had spoken too openly of his projects, Ayoub, brought up among the intrigues of the courts of Asia, exclaimed with vehemence against all traitors, and swore he would cut off the head of even Saladin himself, if he received orders from the sultan of Damascus to do so. When left alone with his son, he reproached him with his indiscretion and imprudence. “I have spoken against you,” added he, “before your rivals and enemies; but know that if Noureddin should come to attack you, I would be the first to take arms; if he required only the tribute of a sugar-cane from us, he should not obtain it of me.” According to the advice of Ayoub, Saladin spoke only of his perfect submission to the commands of his master, and took honour to himself as being the lowest of the slaves of Noureddin, to whom he sent deputies and presents; but he could not destroy all his suspicions. Noureddin had determined upon going into Egypt himself, when death surprised him, and delivered Saladin from the uneasiness which a jealous and vindictive master naturally inspired.

At the death of Noureddin, the empire founded by the Attabeks declined towards its ruin. The sultan of the Attabeks only left a child to succeed him, the emirs already began to quarrel for the divisions of his power, and Syria was about to return to the chaos into which the fall of the Seljoucides had plunged it. The Mussulman nations, terrified at the evils before them, eagerly sought the yoke of Saladin, and recognised with joy for their master a warrior who was the only person capable of defending their religion or their dominions. Saladin inherited not only the power of Noureddin, but was anxious to follow up the projects of his predecessor, and nothing pleased his ambition more than the idea of pursuing the war against the Christians.

Amaury, instead of taking advantage of the troubles of Syria, was desirous of resuming his projects against Egypt; and requesting the aid of the emperor of Constantinople, the latter sent him a fleet and some troops. The Christians laid siege to Damietta; but the eternal divisions between the Greeks and Latins prevented the success of the enterprise. Amaury, entertaining still the hope of succeeding in his designs, sent ambassadors into Europe, thinking that the prospect of the conquest of Egypt would arm the knights of the West. As the deputies of Amaury returned without obtaining aid, he himself repaired to Constantinople to solicit fresh succours. He was received with magnificence; and great promises were made him; but he died without seeing them realized. Thus King Amaury, during the whole of his reign, had but one single thought, for which he exhausted all the resources of his kingdom. The obstinacy which he evinced for the execution of an unfortunate project, advanced the progress of the Mussulmans, and must have recalled to the Christians of the West the words which the prophets repeated to the Hebrews, “Children of Israel, direct neither your looks nor your steps towards Egypt.”

Amaury, at his death, left a distressed kingdom, and as the governor of its states a son, thirteen years of age, sick and covered with leprosy. Raymond, count of Tripoli, and Milo de Plansy, lord of Carac and Montroyal, disputed the regency during the minority of young Baldwin. Milo, by his intrigues, obtained the suffrages of the barons, but was found, a short time after, pierced with several wounds inflicted by a sword, in one of the streets of PtolemaÏs: Raymond succeeded his rival, with whose death all Palestine accused him.

The father of the count of Tripoli had been killed by the IsmaËlians, and he himself had remained eight years in the chains of the infidels. The fourth in descent from the famous count de St. Gilles, he possessed the bravery, the activity, and the ambition of the hero from whom he drew his origin; but with them, that obstinacy of character, which, in difficult times, irritates the passions and provokes implacable hatreds. More impatient to reign over the Christians than to conquer the infidels, Raymond considered the right of commanding men as the only reward of the evils he had suffered; he demanded with haughtiness the recompense of his services and his long toils, and conceived that justice would triumph, and the safety of the kingdom be preserved, solely by his elevation.

If, amidst the disorders which continually agitated the Christian states, the new regent had had sufficient authority to direct the policy of the Franks, and make peace or war at his will, history might justly accuse him of having favoured the power of Saladin, and of having prepared the downfall of the kingdom of Jerusalem. After the death of Noureddin, the son of Ayoub had had to contend with the family of his old master, the emirs faithful to the dynasty of the Attabeks, and all who wished to profit by the troubles of Syria, and erect independent states for themselves. Prudence commanded the Christians to foment the discord which prevailed among the Saracens, and to ally themselves with every party which was opposed to Saladin. Instead of following this wholesome policy, and stirring up war in Syria, they determined upon renewing Amaury’s unfortunate attempts upon Egypt. A Sicilian fleet having arrived in Palestine, aided by the Sicilians, the Christians laid siege to Alexandria, where all sorts of miseries combined to destroy their army. Frequently-repeated reverses conveyed no instruction to the Franks of the proper manner to make war with Saladin. As they were returning from their imprudent and unfortunate expedition, the Mussulman governor of the city of Emessa, then besieged by the new sultan of Damascus, solicited their alliance and support. The Christian warriors, after having placed a price upon their services which it was impossible the governor could pay, entered upon a campaign without an object, threatening those they pretended to defend, and ravaging at the same time the territories of their allies and their enemies. Nevertheless, their presence in Syria, and their transient alliance with the Mussulman princes, alarmed Saladin, who was making war against the son of Noureddin, shut up in the city of Aleppo. The sultan, resolving to keep them at a distance from the theatre of his conquests, made their leaders brilliant promises and rich presents, and soon succeeded in obtaining a truce, of which he took advantage to strengthen his power and extend the limits of his empire.

The Franks returned to Jerusalem, satisfied with having compelled Saladin to ask for peace. After having imprudently consented to a truce, they committed a second fault, which was to violate the treaty they had just signed, and that not to undertake an important enterprise, but to make an incursion into the territories of Damascus. They ravaged the country, and pillaged the towns and villages that they found without defence, whilst Saladin continued making useful conquests in Syria, and rendering himself sufficiently powerful to punish them for the infraction of their engagements.

The sultan of Cairo and Damascus soon assembled a formidable army and advanced towards Palestine. The whole country was in flames through which the Saracens passed; at their approach the Christians abandoned the cities and towns to take refuge in mountains and caverns. Baldwin IV., who had recently assumed the reins of government, placed himself at the head of the Franks; but fearing to measure himself with Saladin, he shut himself up in Ascalon, whence he contemplated with consternation his desolated provinces.

Everything appeared to presage the approaching fall of the kingdom, and Saladin was already distributing its cities among his emirs, when Providence, which at length took pity on the situation of the Christians, offered them an opportunity of repairing their misfortunes. The menaces of Saladin and the sight of the ravages he was committing exasperated the Christian soldiers. Baldwin led forth his army from Ascalon, and surprised the Mussulmans in the very same plains whereon Godfrey and the leaders of the first crusade gained their celebrated victory over the Egyptians. Saladin could not resist the impetuosity of their attack, and lost the battle after having defended himself valiantly in the midst of his Mamelukes, a new military force, which he had himself formed, and by which he was always surrounded in time of danger. Saladin saw all his army perish in this disastrous battle, which was never effaced from his memory, and which, as he said in a letter, “made the star of the family of Ayoub to pale.” Mounted on a camel, and followed by a few officers, Saladin experienced the greatest dangers in his flight across the desert, and returned almost alone to Egypt, whence he had so recently set out at the head of a formidable army.

And yet the Christians did not reap much advantage from their victory; they laid siege in vain to the cities of Hemessa and Harem, whilst Saladin soon got together fresh troops in Egypt, and returned to threaten the kingdom of Jerusalem. The victory of Ascalon elated the Christians, and made them rash; Saladin, on the contrary, rendered more cautious by defeat, took advantage of every false step of his enemies, planned ambuscades, employed all the stratagems of war, and several times surprised and beat them on the banks of the Jordan, and in the vicinity of Paneas. Baldwin, who was very near falling into the hands of the Saracens, collected all the forces that were left in his dominions; but he could obtain no advantage over Saladin, and was obliged to sue for peace, which the state of his kingdom and his own infirmities rendered every day more necessary.

The leprosy by which he was attacked made alarming progress; he lost his sight, and was no longer able to undertake the cares of government. As he mistrusted most of the barons and leading men of his kingdom, he offered the government to Philip, count of Flanders, who was come into Asia to combat the infidels; but Philip preferred making war upon the Mussulmans to governing the Christians of Palestine.

The count of Tripoli was pointed out by the opinion of both the people and the nobles, as the only person capable of governing; but the suffrages of the people only augmented the suspicions of Baldwin, who had long dreaded the ambition of Raymond. Obliged to abandon a throne, the weak monarch trembled at the idea of placing on it a man who might soon make him forgotten; and he chose in preference a knight without name or glory, whose only title arose from his having espoused Sibylla, daughter of King Amaury, and widow of the marquis of Montferrat, surnamed Long Sword. Guy of Lusignan did not justify the choice of Baldwin by his conduct, and disgusted every one by the excess of his pride. In this state of things, the interests of the Christian colonies required that the truce made with the Mussulmans should be strictly observed; but such was then the destiny of the kingdom of Jerusalem, that nobody had sufficient power or ascendancy to maintain peace, whilst the meanest of the barons or knights could, at his will, provoke war. The rashness and imprudence of one man again brought down upon Palestine the whole force of Saladin.

Old chronicles have related the romantic adventures and extraordinary fortune of Renaud de Chatillon. Born at Chatillon-sur-Indre, of obscure parents, he followed the army of Louis the Young into Asia, and enrolled himself in the troops of Raymond of Poictiers, prince of Antioch. Raymond having lost his life in battle, his widow Constance was solicited to select a new husband, who might be associated with her in the government. This princess passed by the most illustrious nobles and knights, for she had remarked the personal beauty and chivalric bravery of Renaud de Chatillon, and would accept of no other husband. By this marriage, which, according to William of Tyre, filled the Christian barons with surprise, she all at once raised a young obscure man to the throne of Antioch.

Although Renaud de Chatillon had obtained the love of Constance, he could not conciliate the confidence and esteem of his new subjects. A formidable party was formed against him, at the head of which was the patriarch Amaury. Renaud, full of vexation and anger, cast into prison all who were opposed to him. By his orders the patriarch was led to the top of one of the towers of the citadel, and, with his bare head rubbed with honey, left, in the heat of summer, during a whole day exposed to flies and insects.[299] Renaud de Chatillon, after having filled the city of Ascalon with terror and mourning, was desirous of signalizing his reign by some warlike enterprise. Become the leader of an army in which he had been a soldier, he began by making war against the emperor of Constantinople, and armed several vessels, with which he ravaged the isle of Cyprus. The Greek emperor hastened to avenge the insult, and was soon with an army encamped within sight of Ascalon. Renaud not being master of a sufficient force with which to defend himself, had recourse to baseness to disarm the anger of his enemy, and came, with a cord round his neck, and torn vestments, to lay his sword at the feet of the emperor, who granted him peace. When the Greeks had resumed their way to Constantinople, Renaud turned his arms against the Saracens. He at once put to flight the army of Noureddin, who had advanced towards the territory of Antioch; but, led away by thirst for booty, he fell into an ambuscade, was made prisoner and conducted to Aleppo, where the Mussulmans detained him many years. At last some of his ancient companions succeeded in breaking his chains, and what is not unworthy of remark, the produce of the booty made in an incursion on the territories of Damascus was the price of his liberty.

When Renaud de Chatillon issued from his captivity, his wife Constance was no longer living, and the son of Raymond, arrived at the age of maturity, governed the principality of Antioch. Renaud repaired to Jerusalem, where the remembrance of his exploits and misfortunes, suffered in the cause of the Christians, secured him a welcome from the king and the barons. Having, in a second marriage, espoused the widow of Homfrey de Thourou, he became lord of Carac, and some castles situated on the confines of Arabia and Palestine. Renaud led into these cities and fortresses a great number of Templars, whom he associated with his fortunes. He had just established himself there, and had already begun to ravage the frontiers of Arabia, when the truce was concluded with Saladin. Nothing could induce Renaud de Chatillon to lay down his arms; every day he made fresh forays in the neighbourhood of Carac, and plundered the caravans of the Mussulman pilgrims on their way to Mecca. Heedless of the rights of nations or humanity, he imprisoned women and children, and massacred unarmed men.

Saladin complained to Baldwin of these infractions of treaties; but it was not in the power of the king of Jerusalem to give him the satisfaction he demanded. The sultan, irritated by the conduct of the Franks, seized fifteen hundred pilgrims, who were cast upon the shores of Egypt by a tempest, and threatened to detain them unless the Mussulman prisoners were promptly set at liberty. Neither the demands of Saladin, nor the prayers of Baldwin, nor even the fate of the Christian captives, had the least effect upon Renaud de Chatillon and the Templars, so long accustomed to sport with all treaties made with the Mussulmans.

Thereupon Saladin again determined upon war, and set out a third time from the banks of the Nile, to enter Palestine at the head of an army. At the approach of danger, the Christians united their efforts to stop the progress of the Saracens. An assembly, formed of all classes of citizens, ordered a general contribution to be levied, the produce of which was employed in repairing the fortifications of the castles and cities, whilst all the barons and knights flew to arms. But the time was not yet come in which Saladin should invade the kingdom of Jerusalem. In each of his expeditions he appeared to try the strength of the Christians, and when he met with strong resistance, waited patiently for a more favourable moment. After having ravaged Galilee by his lieutenants, and commenced the siege of Berouth, he suddenly drew off his forces to go and make war upon the Attabeks, who were masters of Mossoul and several cities of Mesopotamia.

The Christians took no other advantage of his absence but to renew their incursions upon the territory of Damascus. Renaud de Chatillon made several expeditions to the shores of the Red Sea, and even conceived the daring project of going to the cities of Mecca and Medina, and plundering the Kaaba and the tomb of the Prophet. A troop of intrepid warriors set forward on their march under his orders; they surprised the Egyptian merchants who were bearing back the treasures of India, by way of the Red Sea; and, preceded by terror, advanced in triumph, into a country which had never before seen the Christians. Renaud and his companions had already reached the valley of Rabid, situated ten leagues from Medina, when they were surprised and attacked by a Mussulman army, which had been hastily despatched from Syria. After an obstinate and sanguinary combat, victory favoured the Saracens. Renaud escaped the pursuit of the conquerors as if by a miracle, and returned with a small number of his troops to the castle of Carac. Some of the prisoners were led into Egypt, where the sentence of the cadis condemned them to the death of the lowest criminals. Others were conveyed to Mecca, where their blood was shed with that of the victims immolated at the ceremony of the great Bayram.[300]

These horrible executions did not satisfy the vengeance of Saladin. When he heard of the expedition of the Christians, which he considered a frightful sacrilege, his anger knew no bounds, and he swore upon the Koran to revenge the insult offered to the Mussulman religion. The sultan, whom the Christians already styled the scourge of God, re-entered Galilee with sword and flame, and advanced towards the castle of Carac, constantly repeating the oath he had taken of slaying Renaud with his own hand. The Mussulmans would have rendered themselves masters of the castle, but for the bravery of one knight, who alone maintained the drawbridge, and by a glorious death deprived Saladin of this conquest. A Christian army was soon upon the march to repel this attack of the Saracens. Saladin, despairing for the present of wreaking his revenge upon Renaud, laid waste the lands on the banks of the Jordan, in the very face of the Christian army, which did not dare to attack him. After having several times renewed his attempts upon the fortress of Carac, and given up to the flames Naplouse, Sebosto, and several other cities, he at length consented to a truce, and led back his army into Mesopotamia.

Saladin availed himself of the peace made with the Christians, to dissipate the troubles which had arisen in his states, and to pursue his conquests in Syria. At each truce he got possession of a city or a province; he extended his dominions, and thus placed under his control countries which became so many the more enemies for the Christians. The Franks, on the contrary, when war was suspended, gave themselves madly up to their internal divisions; peace with them gave birth to a thousand new factions, and the kingdom then found in its own bosom enemies much more dangerous than those against whom they had been at war.

The knights and barons, on their return to Jerusalem, accused Guy de Lusignan of having neglected the opportunity for conquering Saladin, and reproached him with having permitted the ravages exercised by the Mussulmans in the richest provinces of Palestine. Baldwin, who had yielded up the royal authority with great regret, listened to the complaints of the barons, and hastened to reascend a tottering throne. He undertook to dissolve the marriage with Sibylla, and cited Guy de Lusignan before the patriarch of Jerusalem and the nobles of the kingdom, in order to deprive him of the counties of Ascalon and Jaffa. As Guy did not appear on the day named, Baldwin, although infirm and blind, repaired to Antioch, and finding the gates shut, struck them several times with his hand without causing them to be opened.[301] This unfortunate prince called upon Heaven to witness this insult, and returned to Jerusalem, swearing to revenge himself upon Guy de Lusignan. On his side, Guy no longer observed any measures, but took up arms to sustain his revolt. In this emergency, Baldwin could find no better means of punishing Guy than to oppose to him a regent and a new king. By his orders, Baldwin V., who was five years of age, and born of the first marriage of Sibylla with the son of the marquis de Montferrat, was crowned in the church of the Holy Sepulchre, in the presence of the nobles and the clergy. Raymond, count of Tripoli, less odious to Baldwin than Guy, obtained the regency and assumed the reins of government.

The kingdom of Jerusalem, which had proceeded rapidly to decay since the reign of Baldwin III., became now an object worthy of pity. The stormy passions, almost always inseparable from a feudal government, had long since weakened all the springs of authority. The royalty, for whose remains they were quarrelling, was nothing but a vain name; in the midst of the factions by which he was surrounded, a king of Jerusalem could neither revenge his own injuries, nor those of the Church or of Christ. Want of courage was the only crime he could punish without exciting the murmurs of the barons, because with them cowards found no defenders. Amaury had ignominiously hung twelve Templars, accused of having neglected the defence of a fortress; but he had not the power to receive an ambassador sent by the Old Man of the Mountain, in whom the hope of freeing himself from a tribute paid to the grand master of the Templars, had awakened a desire to become a Christian. When the ambassador was assassinated in Jerusalem by a Templar, Amaury had no authority to bring the murderer to judgment; deplorable weakness of a king who possesses not the first prerogative of royalty, that of maintaining justice and causing the rights of nations to be respected!

The kingdom was covered with strong castles, the commanders of which barely recognised the authority of the king. On the summit of every mountain upon which appeared threatening towers, in caverns even, which had been transformed into fortresses, barons commanded as masters, and made peace or war at their pleasure. The military orders, the only support of the state, were divided among themselves, and sometimes shed their blood in quarrels fatal to the cause of the Christians.

Discord reigned between the clergy and the knights of the Temple and St. John; the military orders were not subject to the jurisdiction of ecclesiastics, and the clergy, accustomed to dictate laws to princes, could not endure the haughty independence of a few warriors. Led away by the spirit of discord, the Hospitallers raised edifices in front of the church of the Resurrection, and often drowned the voices of the priests who celebrated the praises of God at the foot of his altars. Some of them even went so far as to pursue priests with arrow-shots into the very church of the Holy Sepulchre. As the only vengeance, the priests gathered together in bundles the arrows that had been shot at them, and placed them on an elevated spot on the Mount of Olives, that every one might be acquainted with the sacrilege.

These quarrels, which were every day renewed, were carried before the tribunal of the Holy See, whose decisions frequently only inflamed the minds of the disputants the more. The Church of Rome, very far from restoring peace to the Christians of the East, often cast amongst them fresh coals of discord. The schisms which troubled the West, more than once kindled war in the holy places, even upon the tomb of Christ.

Concord seldom prevailed long between the inhabitants of Palestine and the European warriors who came into Asia to combat the infidels. The Syrian barons employed the forces of their auxiliaries to carry out their own ambitious views; and the latter, by their pride and disdain, laid a high price upon their services. Almost always on the arrival of fresh pilgrims, a treaty was violated or a truce broken, in order to make incursions upon the territories of the Saracens; and not unfrequently, the Crusaders, without even seeing the enemy, abandoned Palestine to the perils of a war they had themselves provoked.

In the cities, particularly the maritime cities, several nations dwelt together, and disputed precedence and sovereignty, sword in hand. All who came to establish themselves in the Holy Land, brought with them and preserved the remembrances and prejudices of their native country. In the cities of Ascalon, Tyre, or PtolemaÏs, the inhabitants were much more interested in the glory and prosperity of Pisa, Genoa, and Venice, than in the safety of the kingdom of Jerusalem.

The greater part of the barons and knights displayed none of the heroic resignation of the early soldiers of the cross, in supporting fatigues or braving difficulties. Since the conquest of Egypt had been contemplated, war was only considered as a means of acquiring wealth; and the thirst for booty destroyed the principle of honour, the love of glory, and even all anxiety for the cause of Christ. The question was no longer what enemy was to be attacked, what ally was to be defended, but what city or province was to be delivered up to pillage. Discipline degenerated in the camp; the Christian warriors still displayed their natural bravery, but they neither knew how to obey nor to command, and anarchy reigned as completely in the army as throughout the kingdom. Many of the leaders abandoned their colours under the most perilous circumstances, and sold their inaction or their neutrality. Some, like the Templar Meslier and his companions, forgetful of their vows, ravaged the Christian provinces; whilst others, urged on by ambition or vengeance, allied themselves with the Saracens, and received in the service of the infidels the reward of their disgraceful apostasy.

Religion, which ought to have been the connecting tie between the Christians established in the Holy Land, and which alone could preserve among them sentiments of patriotism,—religion had lost all empire over their minds. War was still made in its name, but its laws were unpractised and unacknowledged. The conversion of the Maronites of Libanus, who rejoined the Church of Rome in the reign of Baldwin IV., was celebrated at Jerusalem as a victory gained over heresy, but it had not the effect of bringing back the Christians to the spirit of the Scriptures. Pious men who lived in a corrupted age, groaned under the depravity of manners which every day made such frightful progress.[302] The respectable archbishop of Tyre trembles as he traces the history of this unhappy period, and fears lest truth should give to his recitals the colour of satire. “There is,” says he, “scarcely one chaste woman to be found in the city of Jerusalem.” The leaders of the Christian colonies, equally with the heads of the Church, themselves set the example of licentiousness. The Christians beheld a queen of Jerusalem, the widow of Baldwin III., keep up a criminal intercourse with Andronicus, and seek an abode among the Saracens with the companion of her debaucheries.[303] Bohemond, prince of Antioch, repudiated his wife Erina, to espouse a courtesan. The patriarch, disgusted with such a scandal, excommunicated young Bohemond, and placed an interdict upon his states; and thus the guilty amours of a Christian prince produced trouble and desolation throughout a whole nation. The sight even of the tomb of Christ was unable to inspire more holy thoughts. The patriarch Heraclius, who only owed his elevation to mundane and profane qualities, lavished the treasures due to pilgrims and the poor, upon infamous prostitutes, and the Christian people were often astonished to see the notorious PÂque de Rivery display, even in the sanctuary, ornaments purchased with the alms of the faithful.

A people thus degenerated could not possibly preserve the kingdom of Christ. The eyes of all were turned towards the West, and Heraclius, attended by the two grand masters of the Temple and St. John, was sent into Europe to solicit the prompt assistance of kings and their warriors. The king of France, Philip Augustus, received the Christian deputies with great honours; but as he had but recently ascended the throne, the interests of his kingdom would not permit him to go in person to the defence of Jerusalem. Henry II., king of England, appeared to be the last hope of the Christians; he had promised the pope to make the pilgrimage to the Holy Land, as an expiation of the murder of the archbishop of Canterbury, and Heraclius repaired to his court, presenting him with the keys and standard of the Holy Sepulchre, and pressing him to perform his promise. The bad reputation of the patriarch had preceded him into Europe, and very much weakened the effect of his words; he displayed, likewise, neither the meekness nor the charity of the Scriptures, and only irritated those whom he sought to persuade or convince. As the English monarch hesitated to fulfil his promises, alleging his advanced age and the welfare of his dominions, Heraclius loaded him with the most outrageous reproaches, threatening him with the anger of Heaven. The aged Henry appearing irritated by this language, the patriarch redoubled his insolence and pride. “You may,” said he, on terminating his discourse, “treat me as you treated my brother Thomas, for it is quite indifferent to me whether I die in Syria by the hands of infidels, or perish here by the orders of you who are more wicked than a Saracen.” Henry endeavoured to conceal his anger, and did not dare to punish the envoy of the Christians; he even treated him with great magnificence, but yet did not leave England. He contented himself with sending the Christians of Jerusalem a large sum of money, and exhorting his subjects to arm themselves for the defence of the Holy Land.

The zeal for crusades began at this time to abate, and several ambassadors returned to Jerusalem without having been able to arouse the enthusiasm of the western Christians. Nations, to be excited to active ardour for holy wars, required the example of princes or kings. The warriors of Europe paid little attention to the exhortations of the pope and Heraclius. The deputies returned into Palestine without having obtained the assistance they demanded; and their appearance produced discouragement and despair among all the Christians of the East.

The unfortunate king, Baldwin, had entirely lost the faculties of both mind and body; and, tormented by his sufferings, he every day drew nearer to the tomb, presenting but too faithful an image of the weakness and decline of his kingdom. Whilst the approach of death filled his palace with mourning, parties contended for a throne which tottered to its fall, and for a crown which the most wise compared to the crown of thorns of Christ. When he closed his eyes, the evils increased, and discord submitted to no restraint. The count of Tripoli wished to retain the reins of government as regent; whilst Sibylla was desirous of bestowing the sceptre upon her husband. In the midst of these dissensions Baldwin V., the weak and fragile hope of the kingdom, died suddenly. All who had aspired to his authority were accused of his death: unhappy period, in which such accusations could possibly be well founded, and in which a whole people could think of reproaching a queen with the murder of her own son!

Scarcely was Baldwin dead than his mother desired to reign in his place; and in order to satisfy the ambition of herself and Guy de Lusignan, she disdained no artifice and spared no perfidious promises. Whilst the count of Tripoli was gathering together at Naplouse the barons and principal men of the kingdom, the daughter of Amaury, by the advice of the patriarch and the grand master of the Templars, announced her intention of separating herself from her husband, and choosing a warrior able to defend the kingdom. When this report had circulated through Jerusalem, Sibylla ordered the gates of the city to be shut, and repaired to the church of the Holy Sepulchre. In the presence of the tomb of Christ, Heraclius took the oath of allegiance to her in the name of the clergy and the people, pronounced her divorce with a loud voice, and commanded her in the name of Heaven to bestow her hand and sceptre upon him she deemed most worthy of them. At these words Sibylla placed the crown upon the head of her husband, who was on his knees before her, saying it was not in the power of man to separate those whom God had united.

Whilst a part of the people and some of the barons, seduced by vain promises, applauded the choice of Sibylla, the partisans of Raymond were highly indignant at having been deceived by a woman. The coronation of Guy de Lusignan naturally alarmed all who thought that Jerusalem stood in less need of a king than of a defender. Baldwin of Ramla, one of the most skilful captains of his times, despaired of the safety of the kingdom, and retired into the principality of Antioch, repeating the threats of the prophets against Jerusalem. Geoffrey de Lusignan, when he heard of the elevation of his brother, could not forbear exclaiming: “Well, if they have made a king of him, they would have made a god of me if they had known me.”

When that which had taken place at Jerusalem was announced to the barons assembled at Naplouse, most of them resolved to abandon Palestine; but the count of Tripoli detained them, advising them to name a new king, and bestow the crown upon Homfrey de Thorou, who had recently married Isabella, the second daughter of Amaury. He even promised to gain the support of Saladin for this election, and succeeded in persuading the assembly. Whilst they were yet deliberating, young Homfrey, terrified at the burden they wished to impose upon him, fled away secretly by night, and hastened to the capital to ask pardon of Queen Sibylla, protesting that he preferred ease and life to the throne of Jerusalem. This flight disconcerted all measures and changed all projects. Several barons, not knowing to what party it would be best to ally themselves, went and took the oath to Guy de Lusignan; whilst others, returning to their castles, awaited coming events. Raymond retired to his county of Tiberias, of which he had obtained the sovereignty.

The retreat and the murmurs of the enemies of Guy only increased his pride. The more he stood in need of mildness and moderation, the more haughtiness and severity he displayed. His disdainful manners drove from him the barons who had remained faithful to him. Stimulated by the grand master of the Templars, who was the declared enemy of the count of Tripoli, he made preparations to besiege the city of Tiberias; whilst Raymond, who was determined to defend himself, carried away by the excess of his anger, implored the aid of Saladin against the king of Jerusalem.

At the approach of the evils about to fall upon the kingdom, nothing was heard but complaints and seditious clamours; but neither the dangers of the Christian colonies, nor the aspect of the threatened holy places, could silence ambition or check revolt. The historian of the kingdom of Jerusalem here feels the pen fall from his hand, and stops, terrified at the events which are left for him to describe.

Amidst the general disorder and agitation, the superstitious minds of the Christians beheld nothing in the future but great calamities, and everything seemed to present sinister presages to their eyes. “The signs which were displayed in the heavens,” says a contemporary chronicle, “allowed it to be plainly perceived that God held in abomination that which was going on. Impetuous winds, tempests, and storms arose on all sides; the light of the sun was obscured during several days, and hailstones as large as the eggs of a goose fell from heaven. The earth, equally agitated by frequent and horrible earthquakes, gave notice of coming ruin and destruction, with disasters and defeats in war which were soon to visit the kingdom. Neither could the sea confine itself within its bounds and limits, but announced to us, by its horrible floods or its unusually impetuous waves, the anger of God ready to fall upon us. Fire was seen blazing in the air like a house in flames; you would have sworn that all the elements and architecture of God were angry, and abhorred the excesses, wickednesses, dissoluteness, and offences of the human race.”

Such were the presages that struck the greater number of the Christians; but thinking men could perceive much more certain signs of the approaching fall of the kingdom of Jerusalem. Mossoul, Aleppo, and all the Mussulman cities of Syria and Mesopotamia, had submitted to the power of Saladin. The son of Ayoub had triumphed over the emirs and the scattered family of Noureddin. All the treasures of Egypt, all the forces of Asia, were in his hands; there remained only one conquest for him to make, and fortune, which had levelled all obstacles before him, soon furnished him with a pretext and an opportunity of giving the last blow to the power of the Christians.